Nick of Time Page #12

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GENE, heading toward them, has to thread his way through a

large WEDDING PARTY - tuxedos and bridesmaid gowns. When he

clears them he has neared the impromptu press conference.

ANGLE ON BRENDAN GRANT - 12:3 9PM

He is now alone in front of a campaign poster, fielding

questions from a few remaining REPORTERS.

Farther on, ELEANOR GRANT and her entourage can be seen taking

the escalator up. GENE heads that way, passing BRENDAN GRANT.

BRENDAN GRANT:

My wife is not interested in negative

campaigning. She wants to accentuate

the positive. I don't know about you

but I find that refreshing.

A REPORTER:

Have you ever thought of running for

office yourself?

BRENDAN GRANT:

(smiles, charmingly)

Me?

A PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN walks by. The Governor's husband's eyes

follow her appreciatively as he says:

BRENDAN GRANT:

I'm just a business man.

ANGLE ON GENE - 12:40PM

He nears the escalator. It's crowded and GENE is pulled into

the midst of NEWS PEOPLE, TV, RADIO, PRESS. He joins the

flow and lets it pull him along.

GENE rides the escalator to the Second Floor and follows the

crowd up two flights of the circular stairs.

Down a short tunnel and out onto the Pool Deck.

EXT. BONAVENTURE HOTEL - POOL, DECK - HIGH ANGLE - 12:41PM

About an acre of grass on the Fourth Floor. Skyways connect

the Pool Deck to the office buildings across Flower and

Figueroa. A platform has been set up with chairs and

microphones in front of a podium.

EXT. POOL DECK - CLOSE ANGLE ON GENE - 12:41PM

GENE blinks in the sudden, bright sunshine. When his eyes

adjust, he finds himself in a line that is approaching A

SECURITY MAN with a hand-held metal detector. He panics,

turns, trying to escape, but finds himself bumped along,

trapped. The line shuffles forward. He turns, determined to

make a supreme effort to escape and finds himself facing a

2ND SECURITY MAN, who waves him to one side.

2ND SECURITY MAN Excuse me, sir, You don't have to wait. I

can take you over here.

GENE is dragged forward. He looks around; no way out. He

stands, expectant, as the detector slides down one side of

his body, is lifted over to the other. Down it slides, toward

the pocket concealing the gun. GENE waits for the alarm -

which doesn't come. The SECURITY MAN operating the gizmo

deftly switches it off as it passes the weapon. GENE is pushed

on, looking back, confused, alarmed, finds himself among:

PRESS by the dozens. Eleanor Samara Grant SUPPORTERS by the

hundreds. SECURITY MEN and COPS IN UNIFORM. GENE moves through

them, trying to figure out what just happened. He glances

back to the 2ND SECURITY MAN, and bumps into one particular

POLICE OFFICER, plain clothes, badge in pocket, who reacts

with a quick laugh.

POLICE OFFICER Easy, sir. Got to watch where you're going in

a crowd like this.

He is a handsome, solid-looking guy. You'd trust him. Call

him OFFICER TRUST. OFFICER TRUST seems to be in charge. He

moves off through the crowd, giving LOCAL POLICE orders in

an easy way.

GENE looks around. He can't see MR. SMITH. He edges his way

after OFFICER TRUST, who reaches the wall beyond which is

the drop to the street. He leans there comfortably, scanning

the crowd, GENE reaches the wall a few yards away from him.

He looks out at the city, getting his courage up. Just as he

turns to approach OFFICER TRUST:

MR. SMITH (O.S.)

I know what you're thinking.

GENE freezes! MR. SMITH appears from the crowd, joins him.

He smugly flips his walkie-talkie into the air, catches it.

GENE:

What would you do in my place?

MR. SMITH

Me?

He flips the walkie-talkie, catches it.

MR. SMITH

The b*tch would be dead. Course I

ain't sayin' which b*tch.

He flips the walkie-talkie. GENE lashes out, smacks the walkie-

talkie. It sails over the edge, falls and smashes onto the

sidewalk four stories below.

MR. SMITH goes ballistic.

GENE walks away from him - right up to OFFICER TRUST.

GENE:

There's a plot to kill the Governor.

If you don't believe me, check that

guy right there. He has a gun.

OFFICER TRUST looks at MR. SMITH and then at GENE.

OFFICER TRUST:

So do you, Mr. Watson.

And OFFICER TRUST reaches in his hip pocket for a spare Walkie-

Talkie that he tosses to MR. SMITH.

OFFICER TRUST:

You got this under control?

MR. SMITH

Yeah.

OFFICER TRUST:

It doesn't look like it.

MR. SMITH

It's under control.

OFFICER TRUST:

It better be.

OFFICER TRUST walks away.

MR. SMITH stares at a devastated GENE. He sticks the walkie-

talkie into his pocket, grabs GENE under the arm, drags him

to an isolated corner.

MR. SMITH

I oughta throw you after that walkie-

talkie but I'm going to give you a

break because you're an amateur.

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