Jennifer 8 Page #27

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A little young for you, Bro?

(Gets his eyes)

You think if she could see,

she'd be hanging around with

an old dog like you? You got

a stomach growing around to

meet itself behind your back.

BERLIN:

Bull sh*t .. I'm in my prime ..

ROSS:

Bits.

BERLIN:

What d'you mean, "bits."

A star-light on the windshield. Distant and nobody seen it yet.

ROSS:

Policemen's bodies age at diff-

erent rates. Look at me. Gut in

its fifties. Balls in their six-

ties. And feet in their eighties ..

BERLIN:

Hit those wipers, Ross.

Urgency snaps him into close-up. Big noise as wipers clear the

screen. "I thought I saw a light?" BERLIN stares at the instit-

ute through small binoculars. "There. Flashlight went right ac-

ross those windows!" Instant excitement as the adrenalin pumps

in. "Fourth floor. See it? He's fucken in there!" And suddenly

everything including super-sinister Music is happening at once.

105:
EXT. CHEVROLET. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Pines singing as the gale tears into them. Clutching his Winch-

ester ROSS opens the trunk. A dim light and a fluster of equip-

ment. BERLIN sorts out a pair of radios. Selects a channel and

ROSS whispers "What are you on?" ("local Tac.") Here come huge

12 cell flashlights and the intense whispers continue. "Local?"

ROSS:

What if we need a back up?

BERLIN:

We're not here. I don't

want the desk to hear us ..

O.K. it's channel 4 and copy? And they're already on their way.

106:
EXT. BACK OF BUILDING. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

The storm bullies its way around the building. Lights approach

quickly. But one of them is already fading. It belongs to ROSS.

This f***er's got about 5 minutes in it. And whatever the plan

was it just got changed. BERLIN looks around in apprehension -

going in there alone ain't no joy - his flashlight ascends the

fire escape. And there it is 2 floors up. A half opened window.

BERLIN:

Alright. I'll start at

the top, and work down.

ROSS:

You ain't going in alone?

BERLIN:

That's a liability, Ross. I

don't want you hanging on to

my shirt. Anyone but me comes

down these stairs, take em out

but try and keep him alive. I

want this bastard living ..

Takes off up the stairs. ROSS watches him vanish. (Waiting out

here ain't so tasty either.) The wind rages in nearby trees. A

door slams repeatedly somewhere a long way away. [Ross?] "10/2"

[I'm going in.] Big on ROSS and the radio. "You take care, Bro."

107:
INT. REAR STAIRWELL. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

BERLIN climbs through the window. Drops down and waits to orien-

tate himself. He's on a small landing midway between flights of

stairs. Different kinds of noises in here. One hundred per cent

more sinister. "Ross. Ross? You hearing me?" [10/2]. "I'm going

upstairs." Snaps the safety-catch on his Beretta. And it sounds

ominous. Every shadow in this place is animated with foreboding.

108:
INT. STAIRWELL/CORRIDOR. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Looking down the stairwell. The light comes up. BERLIN arrives

on another floor. Hard to sweat in here but he's doing it. His

progress is distinctly cautious. A harsh wind rockets down the

stairs flapping a pair of owing doors. BERLIN eases through in-

to the corridor. At its far end is the elevator. He travels to-

wards it in an eerie piston of light. [John? What's happening?]

109:
EXT. REAR OF INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

ROSS has moved into the shelter of a wall. Sleet passes almost

horizontally. His flashlight is over. The color of a tangerine.

ROSS [BERLIN]

[I'm on Helena's floor .. I'm

just gonna take a look at her

apartment .. You O.K.] Fucken

flashlight's kaput .. [Door's

locked .. sh*t] What's happen-

ing, Brother? [I can hear some-

thing? .. Something upstairs?]

110:
INT. CORRIDOR. INSTITUTE. NlGHT.

BERLIN stares up at the coiling "I can hear footsteps .. right

up above?" They disappear into the gale. Doors beat at the end

of the corridor. He moves towards them and pushes out onto the

stairway. Nothing but the wind. He's about to climb when an al-

arming voice shocks him rigid. "YOU ARE NOW ON THE THIRD FLOOR."

BERLIN is already running. Light swinging wildly as he sprints

back up the corridor. Fifteen yards to elevator/stairs. Breath-

less as hell he hits the radio. "F***er's in the elevator." Al-

most jumps stairs in haste. Bursts out onto the 3rd floor. Ham-

mer back on the Beretta. Just in time to see the doors closing.

"Get ready, Ross. He maybe coming down." But he isn't. He's go-

ing up. By the time he's recovered breath the Voice is back in

business. Whoever rides the elevator is now on the fifth floor.

111:
INT. STAIRWELL. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Totally breathless now. Eyes ascend faster than feet. Whine of

a swinging door. BERLIN rounds the stairwell. The door's still

busy. Top of the building here and the ceilings are closing in.

BERLIN'S P.O.V. as he heads for that door. Closer. Three steps

to go. Closer. Two steps more. One step. Reaches for it. Whamm!

The door smashes into him like it hates him. So fast it hardly

happened. He staggers back. His flashlight clatters downstairs.

Banisters capsize as the light passes. Every shadow goes crazy.

The flashlight arrives at a lower level. Rolls away and stops.

Wastes power into a corner. Can't see Berlin and can't see his

radio. But Ross cuts into the silence with increasing disquiet.

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