Passenger 57 Page #10

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Ramsay, Cale and Webb can't believe their ears. Sly wishes he hadn't asked.

CALE:

(outraged)

He what?

WEBB:

He dumped the fuel.

SLY:

It was probably an accident...

RAMSAY:

He could've killed every passenger on that plane. Chief Biggs, this is Stuart Ramsay, President of Trans Pacific Operations. John Cutter does not work for this company. I am instructing you to lock him up until I can determine how many violations of civil air code to charge him with.

SLY:

You can't do that, Stuart. Cutter's the only person there who's trained to handle the situation.

RAMSAY:

Cutter is obviously out of his mind and I do not intend to stand by and allow him to further endanger those lives.

(turning to Cale)

Addison?

CALE:

It's your call, Stuart.

Biggs turns to two of his officers.

BIGGS:

Fellas, take Mister Cutter downstairs and introduce him to the dentention room.

CUTTER:

Sly, I'm beginning to feel real unpopular.

SLY:

There's nothing I can do, man. Just hang in there.

The two cops grab Cutter and take him away from the phone.

CUTTER:

(shouting)

Give Ramsay a message for me! Tell him I'm gonna reach out and touch him -- and it's not gonna be with a phone!

Cutter is hustled out the door.

118B BACK IN BOARDROOM 118B

Sly turns to Ramsay in a fury.

SLY:

That was a mistake.

RAMSAY:

(tough)

I'm doing your friend a favor. Now back off. Sly. I've got an airline to protect.

The two men stare daggers at each other.

CUT TO:

119 & 120 OMITTED

121 EXT. AIRFIELD 121

More police and emergency vehicles arrive. A staging area has been set up in front of the terminal with paramedics standing by. A fuel truck sits on the edge of the tarmac, waiting for a signal. All eyes are glued to the fortress-like 747.

122 INT. 747 - MAIN CABIN 122

Vincent, Fiona and the Indian guard the passengers from the front of the cabin. Wolfgang and Priest join them.

WOLFGANG:

Change of plans. Who's got the party favor?

Vincent opens his jacket to reveal the grenade hooked to the lining. Wolfgang offers it to the Indian.

WOLFGANG:

Mister Elk Horn, you know what to do.

The Indian nods solemnly. He puts the grenade in his pocket. Wolfgang turns and addresses the passengers.

WOLFGANG:

Good news. In just a minute, half of you will be released.

Excited reactions. Some faces, like Marti's, are wary.

WOLFGANG:

After we've been refueled, the rest of you will follow. Now... who'd like to be in the group that goes first?

As anticipated, every hand in the cabin shoots up. Wolfgang hides a smile.

WOLFGANG:

You can't all go first.

Clamoring and shouting as individuals plead for Wolfgang's attention. To him, their begging is better than an orgasm. Marti, who's seen enough, stands up.

MARTI:

(to passengers)

Stop it! Don't beg him! Can't you see he's getting off on this?

The cabin becomes silent. Wolfgang fixes Marti with his deadly look. He walks down the aisle to her. Marti defiantly stands her ground. Wolfgang stands very close to her.

WOLFGANG:

Our brave little stewardess.

(reading her name badge)

'Marti.' The whole plane's dying to know. What happened down there in the lower galley? You and the hero in that tight little place, two healthy young people facing death, wondering if you'd ever have another chance to -- tell us, Marti, did the hero get into your tight little place?

MARTI You're sick.

WOLFGANG:

Guess what? I knew that before you did. And you're right. I do get off on people's suffering. So... help me get off, Marti.

(a beat)

Beg me for your life.

MARTI:

Go to hell.

Wolfgang raises his gun and presses the barrel to Marti's forehead. Passengers gasp. Marti, jaw trembling, continues to stare defiantly at Wolfgang.

WOLFGANG:

(a sexy whisper)

Beg.

Marti refuses. Wolfgang considers, withdraws the gun --and points it at the nearest person -- a mother with a small child in an aisle seat. It's the kid with the teddy bear!

MARTI:

(crying out)

Please -- don't--

Wolfgang closes his eyes, feeling a rush of pleasure. He lowers the gun and opens his eyes. They gleam at Marti who feels like she's been raped.

WOLFGANG:

Thank you, Marti. You were very good... darling.

(announcing)

All right. I've decided who will go first. All passengers in rows ten through thirty --

Passengers in these rows brighten.

WOLFGANG:

-- will go last.

Wolfgang inhales their disappointment.

122A INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR 122A

TWO COPS escort Cutter down a long dark passageway, lit by dim overhead bulbs.

They journey from one pool of light to another, disappearing into darkness in between. Cutter is extremely agitated and getting more "street" by the second. He begins to struggle between the Two Cops who are overweight country boys.

CUTTER:

(ranting)

F*** this sh*t! No way! No f***in' way you're lockin' my ass in jail! You hear what I'm sayin', you sh*t-kickin', grits-eatin' motherfuckers? I ain't goin'!

COP #1

Cool it, suntan.

CUTTER:

F*** you, cottonball! I ain't afraid of your wimpy Barney Fife ass!

(to the Cop #2)

Yours either, corn pone.

COP #2

(losing it)

That's it! Let's cuff him!

CUTTER:

(defiant)

You try to cuff me and I will definitely f*** you up!

COP #1

(angry)

Get him under the light! Turn him around!

The Second Cop shoves Cutter up against the wall while the First Cop pulls out his handcuffs. Cutter struggles as they brace him and try to get the cuffs on.

COP #1

Hold still!

CUTTER:

Hold this!

COP #1

(fumbling with the handcuffs)

I can't see a goddamn thing! Get him back in the light!

Taking advantage of the situation and the bad light, Cutter suddenly whips around, catching the Cops off guard. A couple of lightning fast moves and -- snap! click! The two Cops are handcuffed to each other!

They're so amazed that Cutter is easily able to push them over. Floundering off-balance, the Two Cops tumble to the floor, tangled together, thrashing to get free.

As they struggle to get up, Cutter grabs one of their guns and aims it at them, COCKING back the TRIGGER. The Two Cops freeze in terror. The look on Cutter's face is murderous.

COP #1

(pleading)

Please don't kill us!

Cutter's "murderous look" vanishes, replaced by his regular look of cool, calculating intelligence.

CUTTER:

What? And waste perfectly good bullets?

The Two Cops realize the whole thing was an act to throw them off guard -- and it worked.

Keeping the gun trained on them, Cutter walks over to a door marked "Janitor." He opens it to reveal a small closet filled with mops and buckets and brooms.

CUTTER:

In.

CUT TO:

123 OMITTED 123

124 INT. CONTROL TOWER 124

The RADIO CRACKLES. Biggs and the others perk up.

WOLFGANG (V.O.)

This is Wolfgang. Is the fuel truck in position?

BIGGS:

(into the microphone)

Sure is.

WOLFGANG (V.O.)

If anyone else comes within a hundred feet of this plane during refueling, the remaining passengers will be executed. Do you read me?

BIGGS:

Loud and clear.

WOLFGANG (V.O.)

There will be no communication during the refueling process.

(a beat)

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