The Saint Page #13

JILLIAN:

Who are you. Tell me who you are and what the hell is going on.

TEMPLAR:

I was hired to steal your research, but you know that by now. You left the critical data off the disk. Where is it? memorized, right?

(she doesn't answer)

That's a bad cut. Here.

He hands her his HANDKERCHIEF. She swats it away.

TEMPLAR:

Look, you're in big trouble. The guy who hired me will do anything to get your research. Once he has it, you're a corpse. Give me the missing data and I'll get you out of here. You can trust me.

She stares at him in disbelief.

JILLIAN:

Trust you?

(chews the word)

Trust you...?

She grabs the door handle and yanks it open. Templar grabs her arm, pulling her back. They wrestle back and forth...

TEMPLAR:

Damn it, don't be stupid...!

She picks up the CORPORAL'S STEAMING CUP OF COFFEE, sitting in a holder on the console between them, and throws it in Templar's face.

TEMPLAR:

ARGGH!

Templar recoils, blinded, releasing Jillian. He jerks the steering wheel to the side and stomps on the brakes. JILLIAN lunges out before the supply truck fully stops. She hits the pavement running. She hurries off, blending into the crowded sidewalk.

EXT. ST. PETERSBURG - STREETS

Templar gets out, cursing, wiping the hot liquid from his eyes. He looks around. Runs off in Jillian's direction, abandoning the supply truck.

CUT TO:

EXT. ST. PETERSBURG - LOMONOSOVA AVENUE

Templar, running, out of breath, rounds a corner onto Lomonosova Avenue, in the city's shopping district. It's jammed with PEDESTRIANS, SHOPPERS, MERCHANTS, etc. Templar moves through the crowd, eyes scanning left and right. There's no sign of Jillian. Then he sees her. Just a glimpse. 50 yards ahead. Moving through the crowded sidewalk toward the FONTANKA (the largest and most beautiful of the city's grand canals).

EXT. LOMONOSOVA AVENUE - FONTANKA CANAL BRIDGE - SUNSET

Templar runs over the Fontanka Canal Bridge. Nothing. He comes back the other way. Nothing. He stops in the middle of the bridge, exhausted, out of breath. Below him, passing under the bridge, all types of WATER CONVEYANCES (skiffs, barges, dinghies, etc) are navigating the canal.

And emerging from underneath the bridge, seated in the back of a WATER TAXI,...is Jillian. Templar races off the bridge.

EXT. FONTANKA CANAL - EMBANKMENT PROMENADE - SUNSET

Templar sprints down the sidewalk promenade next to the canal. The water taxi is 50 yards past the bridge. JILLIAN sees him coming. TEMPLAR closes the gap. 30 yards. 20 yards. Now 10. Now he's running alongside the taxi, staring at Jillian. And she stares back at him, stony, expressionless. The canal is wider now, and the water taxi accelerates, pulling away from the slower skiffs. Templar slows to a jog. He stops, lungs heaving. The sun is setting to the west. The water taxi speeds off into the setting sun, leaving Templar with this image of Jillian: eyes unblinking, staring at him with pure, unadulterated hatred.

CUT TO:

EXT. ST. PETERSBURG - NEVSKY PROSPECT - NIGHT

Night is falling. Down the street from Tretiak's headquarters, A FEDERAL EXPRESS VAN rolls up to a traffic light.

INT. FEDERAL EXPRESS VAN - NIGHT

FRANKIE has arrived in St. Petersburg. She sits at the wheel in a Federal Express uniform. She pulls out a charge of C-4 plastique with a timer. She opens the van door; tosses it into a sidewalk TRASH RECEPTACLE. She accelerates through the light, now green, and takes a left into TRETIAK' S HEADQUARTERS, parking behind a LIMOUSINE which has just entered. The limousine's doors open. Several dark-suited men get out. One of them is IVAN GRACHA (the Russian mafia figure shown on the C.N.N. broadcast).

INT. TRETIAK'S OFFICE - NIGHT

A MAP OF ST. PETERSBURG AND OUTLYING REGIONS is spread out on Tretiak's desk. Tretiak, Ilya, Zubov, and ten men are present.

ILYA:

There could be another solution. The woman is not-the only scientist working in this field. Is she?

Tretiak turns to Zubov, who nods.

ZUBOV:

No. There are others.

TRETIAK:

Get on a plane. Leave tonight.

The door opens. Zero, the huge bodyguard, enters.

ZERO:

Gracha is here.

Tretiak goes immediately to his desk, pressing the "RECORD" BUTTON on a v.c.r. within. The surveillance camera in Tretiak's office begins taping the meeting.

IVAN GRACHA and six bodyguards enter.

GRACHA:

This had better be important. It's my wife's birthday.

TRETIAK:

My apologies to your wife.

GRACHA:

An apology from Tretiak? An historic moment.

TRETIAK:

(placating)

Come now, Ivan, why must we feud.

GRACHA:

We feud because we hate each other.

TRETIAK:

It is true there have been harsh words between us. We are rivals. But rivalry is bad for business. Upon what conditions would you accept a partnership? Be reasonable.

GRACHA:

Fifty percent of the drug trade in St. Petersburg and Moscow. A third of prostitution and gambling.

TRETIAK:

Agreed.

(they shake hands)

I need the men in your areas, Ivan, for two days. Particularly Moscow and points South.

GRACHA:

Why?

Tretiak hands TWO PHOTOGRAPHS to Gracha. One is of JILLIAN, taken somewhere in Westchester, wearing her "atomic" jacket. The second is an Interpol photo taken of TEMPLAR in a cafe in Amsterdam.

TRETIAK:

To find this woman... and kill this man.

GRACHA:

(smiles)

This is a private matter, I take it.

(Tretiak smiles)

Then you'll have them.

TRETIAK:

Ilya - some wine for Ivan Gracha.

INT. TRETIAK' S HEADQUARTERS - NI GHT

TWO GUARDS man the guard station, eyeing the bank of six video monitors. Frankie enters with a big DELIVERY BOX.

FRANKIE (Russian)

Delivery.

Frankie hands Guard 1 the box and hands Guard 2 a clipboard for his signature. Frankie looks at the surveillance monitors and raises an eyebrow.

ON TRETIAK'S OFFICE MONITOR - we see Tretiak with Ivan Gracha raising a toast. In the screen's lower corner are the letters "REC." The meeting is being taped.

EXT. NEVSKY PROSPECT - NIGHT.

THE C-4 in the trash receptacle blows. It blows up TWO CARS and A TREE. A monstrously concussive explosion.

INT. TRETIAK' S OFFI CE

Gracha drops his wine glass; it shatters on the floor. Gracha and his men unholster their weapons. Tretiak's men go for theirs. A tense stand-off.

GRACHA:

What is this, Tretiak?

TRETIAK:

Put your guns down.

Tretiak goes to his desk; stabs an intercom button --

INT. TRETIAK'S HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT

The guards, save one, barge out the front door. The remaining guard answers the intercom, leaving FRANKIE unattended by the surveillance monitors. Her hand moves to THE CO-AXIAL CABLE behind the video monitors, yanking it. She plugs a TRANSMITTOR into the monitor, then replugs the co-axial cable into the transmitter. The guard turns to Frankie.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes