Scorpio Page #5

because ii has no imagination,

it can't take it from me either.

I am still a communist.

You're still an idiot.

You still serve that dull, gray stupidity.

And when they pull the wire on me,

I'll deliver you to them, Cross.

FILCHOCK:
Yesterday at 1620,

Sarah Cross received a local phone call,

the same message as the one monitored

in Vienna to someone here in Washington.

We have no trace on that someone.

She left the house at 1705.

Notice the handbag.

It's big enough to carry a package,

say, the size of a book, without it showing.

She went to this storage house.

Cross kept some Middle Eastern

furniture and artifacts there

from the time he sent

his wife home from Cairo.

She signed in, got the keys

and went upstairs.

She was inside six minutes.

She told the inventory clerk

she had to measure a cabinet.

She signed nothing out.

She left and drove to

the Library of Congress building.

We got no film inside that building,

but one of our operatives followed her.

The place was crowded with tourists

and it was nearly closing time.

Now, she spoke to no one,

deposited nothing,

simply wandered through the exhibit halls.

However, on her way out she had to pass

through a group on a conducted tour.

No way to check persons on tour.

She exited the building at 1749.

Could be a drop.

But did she make her connection?

Probably someone in that tour group.

Or she could have picked something up

just as easily.

Passport, ticket, escape details.

She's due to run.

I want her place searched.

Get Heck Thomas, he lives behind her,

to invite her for drinks, dinner, anything.

Then get a contract thief

to get one of our men in there.

Brief him on what

he might be expected to find.

Make it look like a routine housebreaking.

The thief s gotta leave prints.

We'll give him shelter.

(HUMS)

(HUMMING CONTINUES)

(SHOUTING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

DOR:
Where is Cross?

Nothing. He had this in his pocket, though.

The phone message.

Cross's handwriting. I'll talk to Lang.

He's dead. He wouldn't talk.

(GROANING)

(FOOTSTEPS RUNNING)

The car! Box him in!

You stay up here.

(cum FIRES)

Cross!

(ALL CLAMORING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING HAPPILY)

I'm tired, Helen,

and I've been very bad company,

so thank you and say good night

to Heck for me, all right'?

Come over for coffee in the morning.

Okay. '!-

I know about music...

Hey, honey, we're out of booze again.

There's a couple more

in the kitchen, darling.

No, that's gone too.

Uh, where'd Sarah get to?

She's gone home. She's got the dumps.

- Jesus, no!

- Heck!

She's gone back to her house.

Should I go after her?

No, don't get involved. Call him. Warn him.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

(GUNSHOTS)

(WOMAN SCREAMS)

I'm going over there.

Jesus Christ! What happened in there?

Now.

- (HORN HONKS)

- (GUN FIRES)

More of your litter, Mr. Mitchell.

Always with access to my superiors.

I don't like your type in my streets.

I've lost another man

and that bastard thinks it's funny.

You've lost more

than another man, Mitchell.

You've lost Zharkov.

That means we've lost Cross.

It might just be that Cross

would be more valuable, more cooperative,

if we helped him without conditions.

We don't think so.

Alex, you don't think. You take orders.

And so do you, Zharkov.

Your orders are the same as mine,

put Cross on tomorrow's flight to Moscow.

Your apparent intimacy with this man

could be interpreted...

You know, Alex, you remind me

of someone I used to know.

Who?

Funny, he never told me his name.

Like you, he was building his career

on a passionate belief in obedience.

He took his revolution from books,

his Marxism from easy-to-swallow,

predigested pap.

He was building socialism in one country

with the bones from a charnel house.

There were a lot of them around in 1939.

(DOOR SLAMS)

I can't give you any more time, Cross.

Two days.

My head on a tray.

Malkin?

Another keen son of a b*tch.

Better get dressed.

You know, Sergei...

I might be better than you in a closed room.

Don't even think about it.

For you.

Do me one favor, Cross.

Run, as fast and as far as you can.

You've nothing but enemies now.

Both sides.

Don't catalog

the excuses through the alphabet.

You got it cleaned up?

Morrison's in the hospital,

with our own medical people in attendance.

- It's a bad wound.

- The thief?

He ran. Untraceable so far.

No one's untraceable.

Damp down the police search.

We don't have the means.

Over their heads, we do.

If Milne's found dead,

that'll make for more questions.

More questions make for deeper probes.

All right.

All right, but get Morrison

out of Washington. Fly him to Panama.

It is a bad wound.

I won't cry if the goof dies.

Change your mind, my friend?

I've bad news, Cross.

Our sister Sarah has gone to her rest

in the peace of Christ.

With faith and hope of eternal life,

let us commend Sarah

to the loving mercy of our Father.

The hunter home from the hill.

I'd buy a plot here soon, Mr. McLeod.

It's a nice cemetery.

You think I'm responsible for this?

Cross will.

And you think he'll come back?

Don't you?

We have evidence that he's in Moscow.

Then burn incense in front of it, McLeod.

And pray.

From our end, the contract is still open.

(MAN SPEAKING ON PA)

Why the Bahnhof?

All faces are anonymous in railway stations.

You're sure there will be no trouble?

He's there, packed and ready

to make the trip.

(CAMERA CLICKING)

The negatives and prints

are on their way to Moscow.

There is a limited interpretation possible,

but an accompanying report

clarifies the more shadowed areas.

And you are seeing Cross off.

You might try denial, but ii is a weak plea,

and at best would leave you

open to charges of incompetence.

I suggest you defect.

Cross, Zharkov getting off

a Soviet Ilyushin aircraft

This photo's reported to have been taken

from the observation roof

of the Moscow airport.

Lab says could be but no hard evidence.

Cross here shaking hands with three VIPS.

Zharkov in the background.

That indicates the three are high-ranking.

No telling who these two are,

but this one in profile could be Stolypin,

head of the Arab section in Moscow.

Notice this maintenance vehicle.

The lab blew it up

and it definitely has the markings

and plate numbers of Moscow.

Now, that's the first hard evidence.

All the rest are blow-ups

to examine everything in detail.

We've combed it out tight,

the results say it probably is Moscow.

But could be Prague or Budapest.

Okay, Torn.

Where's Zharkov now?

Cairo.

Flew directly there from Moscow.

The opposition is chortling

about some coup.

Cross has gone over.

Scorpio still expects him.

The Frenchman's a loser.

(CATS MEOWING)

(LAUGHING)

You could have had that beautiful

Abyssinian in the pet shop. He was lovely.

I like street cats.

I'm going to call you Sun Tzu.

Who on earth is Sun Tzu?

A great scholar of war. Wasn't he, cat?

I bet he has fleas.

It's a sign of his independence.

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