Nixon Page #18

Mitchell puts his hand on Dick's shoulder.

MITCHELL:

Get off that. That leads nowhere.

You should offer condolences to the

families of those kids.

NIXON:

Sure, I'd like to offer condolences.

He shrugs off Mitchell's hand and walks down the deck into

the shadows.

NIXON (CONT'D)

But Nixon can't.

INT. LIMOUSINE - THE WHITE HOUSE - DAY

Leaving the WHITE HOUSE, NIXON looks out at ANGRY

DEMONSTRATORS giving him the finger, shaking placards --

"IMPEACH NIXON" (spelled with a swastika), "PEACE NOW."

With him are HALDEMAN and EHRLICHMAN.

HALDEMAN:

(with clipboard)

... and we've got the economic guys at

five. The Dow lost another 16 points.

They're going to want a decision on

the budget. Sir? ... Are we holding

the line on a balanced budget?

NIXON:

No ... a little deficit won't hurt.

Jesus, they're serious. Why're we

stopping?

HALDEMAN:

(to the driver)

Run 'em over.

The presidential limousine has a difficult time negotiating

its way through the BLOCKADING BUSES. A MAN with a NIXON

mask runs up to the window and peers in, before being

peeled off by SECRET SERVICE. It is an ugly, violent

scene, but Nixon seems to delight in the threat of action.

He's in an upbeat mood.

NIXON:

Get that little f***er! Great tackle!

Reminds me of my days at Whittier.

Most of these kids are useless.

HALDEMAN:

Probably flunking, nothing to do

except come down here and meet girls.

Henry's out there with them.

NIXON:

There's a poison in the upper classes,

Bob. They've had it too soft. Too

many cars, too many color TVs ...

HALDEMAN:

Don't forget the South, sir, the West.

Filled with the good football

colleges, straight kids. There's more

of 'em with you than against you. Not

like these mudmutts.

NIXON:

It's the parents' fault really.

EHRLICHMAN:

Let's not forget they're just kids,

they don't vote.

HALDEMAN:

It's the fall of the Roman Empire, are

you blind? And we're putting fig

leaves on the statues ...

PROTESTOR:

Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Minh is going to win!

HALDEMAN:

Get that f***er!

A glum moment. Haldeman stares at him. A PROTESTOR waves

a Vietcong flag in Nixon's face. He gets pulled off the

limo.

NIXON:

(exhilarated)

But, hell, this is nothing compared to

Venezuela. When I was Vice President,

Ike sent me down there like a blocking

back. They threw rocks, broke out our

windows, almost overturned the car.

Read Six Crises, Bob. Boy, Pat was

brave!

HALDEMAN:

Yeah, we've got to get our vice

president off the golf course and back

there on the college circuit. That's

top priority.

EHRLICHMAN:

He's in the dumps, sir. Agnew. Every

time you have him attack the press,

they give it back to him in spades.

He's become the most hated man in

America.

NIXON:

(chuckles)

Yeah, good old Spiro. Well, better

him than me. What the hell is he but

an insurance policy?

HALDEMAN:

We gotta keep reminding the media

pricks, if Nixon goes they end up with

Agnew.

They all laugh.

EHRLICHMAN:

He's begging for a meeting, chief. He

wants to go overseas for awhile.

NIXON:

Well, no place where they speak

English. That way he can always say

he was misquoted.

Nixon emits a high, manic laugh.

The PROTESTORS are frustrated as the limousine breaks

through.

INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS - LOBBY - DAY (1970)

The SEAL of the CIA: "You shall know the truth and the

truth shall make you free." We CRANE BACK, revealing that

the seal is on the floor of the LOBBY as NIXON strides in

with his ENTOURAGE.

LT. GENERAL ROBERT CUSHMAN hurries out, ruffled, to meet

NIXON.

CUSHMAN:

Mr. President, I don't know what to

say. As soon as we learned from the

Secret Service you were en route, the

Director was notified. He should be

here any minute.

NIXON:

Where the hell is he?

CUSHMAN:

Uh, he's rushing back from his tennis

game, sir ...

NIXON:

(impatient)

So ... let's go ...

CUSHMAN:

(walking with Nixon)

He told me to take you to his

conference room.

NIXON:

No. His office.

(aside)

I want a very private conversation. I

don't want to be bugged.

CUSHMAN:

Then his office will be fine.

INT. OPERATIONS CENTER & HELM'S OFFICE - DAY

They walk past ANALYSTS laboring in isolation behind

Plexiglass walls; the hum of computers, a dark austerity to

the place. They all glance up as NIXON strides past.

NIXON:

How's the job coming, Bob?

CUSHMAN:

Frankly, sir, it stinks. I have no

access. I'm lucky Helms lets me have

a staff.

NIXON:

(ominous)

We'll see about that ...

CUSHMAN:

(sensing change)

He's nervous, sir. He's heard you're

looking for a new director.

NIXON:

Well, he certainly isn't acting like

it.

CUSHMAN:

That's Helms. He's "sang froid," a

world-class poker player.

NIXON:

(under his breath)

Yeah? Well, I own the f***ing casino.

INT. HELMS OFFICE - DAY

A DUTY OFFICER opens the door of the director's office with

a flourish. NIXON catches RICHARD HELMS throwing his

trench coat and tennis racket on a chair, obviously

hurrying in from a secret door. Helms spots Nixon, extends

his hand with a reptilian smile.

HELMS:

I'm honored, Dick, that you've come

all this way out here to Virginia to

visit us at last.

NIXON:

My friends call me "Mister President."

HELMS:

And so shall I.

(to Cushman)

Arrange some coffee, would you General

Cushman?

Cushman stares back a beat, bitterly. Nixon signals to

Haldeman and Ehrlichman that he, too, wants to be alone.

The door closes.

NIXON:

Robert Cushman is a lieutenant general

in the Marine Corps, the Deputy

Director of the CIA ... and this is

what you use him for?

HELMS:

I didn't choose him as my deputy, Mr.

President. You did.

Nixon paces the office, which is festooned with photos,

awards and an abundance of flowers, particularly orchids.

A collector.

NIXON:

You live pretty well out here. Now I

understand why you want to keep your

budget classified.

Helms sits on a settee, a hard-to-read man.

HELMS:

I suppose, "Mister President," you're

unhappy that we have not implemented

your Domestic Intelligence plan, but

...

NIXON:

You're correct. I'm concerned these

students are being funded by foreign

interests, whether they know it or

not. The FBI is worthless in this

area. I want your full concentration

on this matter ...

HELMS:

Of course we've tried, but so far

we've come up with nothing that ...

NIXON:

(stern)

Then find something. And I want these

leaks stopped. Jack f***ing Anderson,

the New York Times, the State

Department -- I want to know who's

talking to them.

HELMS:

I'm sure you realize this is a very

tricky area, Mr. President, given our

charter and the congressional

oversight committees ...

NIXON:

Screw congressional oversight. I know

damn well, going back to the '50's,

this agency reports what it wants, and

buries what it doesn't want Congress

to know. Pay close attention to this.

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