The Bionic Woman

---

ACT ONE:

BLACKNESS.

Darkness, impenetrable. For a moment we hear nothing but

BREATHING, harsh, labored -- someone in PAIN, fighting for

every gasping breath. For life.

WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

(curious, pleasant)

Who are you?

The sound of WHIPPING WIND rises to blend with the harsh

BREATHING, as we -

FADE UP ON:

EXT. ROOFTOP -- DAY

TIGHT ON A WOMAN'S FACE -- bloody, bruised, lip cut and

bleeding, breath RASPING painfully.

She's twenty-four, beautiful, and currently getting the sh*t

beaten out of her.

This is JAIME SOMMERS.

WIDEN to see we're on a ROOFTOP, WIND gusting and eddying

through a forest of CITY BUILDINGS.

A WOMAN (we heard her VOICE over black) stands over Jaime,

back to us -- she continues TALKING in the same calm,

CONVERSATIONAL tone.

WOMAN:

Or maybe I should be asking... what

are you?

-- and she KICKS Jaime in the stomach, almost casually.

Jaime CURLS in on herself, biting off the urge to SCREAM.

She rolls painfully onto her hands and knees, wind whipping

her hair across her face -- then LOOKS UP, eyes fixing on

the Woman, not in pain or fear, but DEFIANCE.

JAIME:

(gasping for breath)

Shouldn't I -- be asking --you?

REVERSE ON THE WOMAN, giving us our first good look at her:

strikingly beautiful, sleekly muscled, maybe 30 -

-- and with brutal, indifferent strength, she GRABS Jaime by

the hair and JERKS her to her feet.

Later we'll know her name: SARAH.

2.

She STARES Jaime in the eye, inches apart, an edge of WEIRD

INTIMACY between these two people who are obviously STRANGERS.

SARAH:

(like a dare)

So ask.

Jaime STARES right back at her, bruised and beaten, like

someone taking a CHALLENGE -

JAIME:

Who the hell are you?

Sarah's answer is a GHOST OF A SMILE -- and she raises her

arm to BACKHAND Jaime. Her bladed hand comes WHISTLING down -and

the INSTANT before impact, we -

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO STREET ALONG THE BAY -- DAWN

The sun is barely rising over SAN FRANCISCO -- hilly streets,

Victorian houses butting up against sweeping modern buildings,

quaint and cosmopolitan at once.

SUPERIMPOSE:
TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Follow a FIGURE JOGGING on a road overlooking the water, a

SILHOUETTE against the brightening sun-streaked sky -- it's

JAIME, running alone along the water in JOGGING SWEATS. She

SPRINTS through the streets, turns INLAND, heading home.

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING -- TENDERLOIN -- MORNING

Jaime picks up the speed, RACING the last few yards through

the dingy neighborhood, reaching a CRUMBLING EDWARDIAN

BUILDING, once an elegant hotel, now LOW RENT APARTMENTS.

INT. JAIME'S APARTMENT -- DAY

A wreck of an apartment, a tiny two-bedroom. A dirty window

shows a view of a BRICK WALL. Dishes are piled in the sink,

clothes strewn over the furniture.

A TEENAGE GIRL, BECCA, sleeps soundly on the couch in what

looks like yesterday's clothes. She'd be pretty if she

weren't so relentlessly determined not to be. Everything in

her wardrobe is shades of BLACK, including her dyed hair.

JAIME comes hurrying in, hastily stripping off her running

clothes as she heads for the shower, grabbing up DIRTY CLOTHES

as she goes -

JAIME:

You're going to be late.

3.

Becca rolls over grouchily, burrowing under the blanket.

BECCA:

I'll catch a ride with Jason.

JAIME:

(unimpressed)

You'll catch a disease from Jason,

more likely. You are not getting in

a car with that kid.

Jaime STRIPS the blanket off Becca as she passes.

JAIME (CONT'D)

Breakfast after I shower, then we're

leaving in ten.

Becca slithers off the couch, looks after Jaime resentfully.

INT. KITCHENETTE -- DAY

The cramped kitchenette. Jaime's at the sink, dishes are

everywhere, but BECCA'S BREAKFAST is laid neatly on the tiny

table:
eggs, bacon, fruit, toast, milk, like an ad for the

perfect BALANCED BREAKFAST.

Becca ignores it, grabs a POPTART and BLACK COFFEE.

Jaime is tossing the cooking pan in the sink as she hastily

shrugs on a STARBUCK'S UNIFORM -

JAIME:

(eyes the poptart)

That's not food.

BECCA:

Thank you, Rachael Ray.

Becca belts back the coffee like a shot.

INT. HALLWAY -- DAY

Jaime carries the bulging laundry bag as she and Becca clatter

down the stairs, the door of one of the apartments opens -

-- and they almost COLLIDE with MRS. ARAKELIAN, their

DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOR, a hardy-looking older EASTERN EUROPEAN,

early 60's, wearing a NURSE'S UNIFORM.

MRS. ARAKELIAN

(Armenian accent)

You're going to be late again.

(as they hurry past)

Your stomach flu is better, no?

4.

JAIME:

I'm fine, thanks. That tea really

helped.

MRS. ARAKELIAN

Come by later, I have something for

you!

JAIME:

No problem. See you!

BECCA:

(under her breath)

Whatever it is this time, I'm not

reading it, wearing it, applying it,

or eating it, ok?

Jaime gives up, pulls the door open, herding Becca through.

EXT. CAR ON ROAD -- DAY

A truly tragic Ford Pinto hatchback, circa 1974, makes its

way through the crowded, steep city streets.

INT. CAR ON ROAD -- DAY

Jaime drives, weaving through the narrow streets during rush

hour as she talks on wireless earpiece, Becca beside her -

JAIME:

(into earpiece)

I won't be late -- I mean, not very

late. Well, maybe a couple of

minutes. Five minutes. But

absolutely not more than ten -

(gratefully)

Thanks, Maggie. I owe you.

As Jaime clicks off the phone -

BECCA:

You know you look like a homeless

person talking to aliens when you

use that thing.

JAIME:

(refusing to be baited)

It's better than wrapping the car

around a tree.

BECCA:

Depends. Do we have insurance?

Jaime glances over to answer, and suddenly notices a BANDAGE

peeking out from under the collar of Becca's shirt.

5.

JAIME:

(sudden suspicion)

What's that?

Becca SCRUNCHES down in her seat a little. BUSTED.

JAIME (CONT'D)

Oh my god. You got another one,

didn't you?

(off Becca's sullen

silence)

We talked about this -

BECCA:

No. You talked, and I ignored you.

JAIME:

You're fifteen. It's not even legal

for you to get a tattoo, and now you

have two -

BECCA:

(quietly)

Three.

JAIME:

-- and has it ever occurred to you

that someone who'll take a fake i.d.

to put permanent ink in your skin

might not necessarily -

(doubletakes)

Three? You have three?

(sudden dread)

Where's the third one?

BECCA:

Don't worry. You'll never see it.

EXT. PUBLIC SCHOOL -- DAY -- CONTINUOUS

The Pinto SCREECHES to an uneven halt outside Becca's school.

INT. CAR -- OUTSIDE SCHOOL -- DAY -- CONTINUOUS

JAIME:

Rebecca Amanda Sommers, you had

better not be telling me -

Becca JERKS her door open, then turns on Jaime with sudden,

intense EMOTION -

BECCA:

Don't do that, ok? Don't talk like

her. You're not Mom.

Jaime doesn't back down, though that had to hurt.

6.

JAIME:

No. I'm your sister, and I'm

responsible for you -

Becca gets out of the car, turns in the open door.

Rate this script:3.3 / 3 votes