The Saint Page #15

TEMPLAR:

You can't get rid of me.

JILLIAN:

Like a bad flu.

TEMPLAR:

Pretty smart, selling the clothes and watch. You were going for the U.S. embassy, weren't you?

JILLIAN:

Present tense please – I am going. Before we discuss the present, let's discuss the past.

She stares hard, malevolently at him.

JILLIAN:

Who the hell are you. I want full name, address, profession, and don't - don't - say Michael Quinn of 112 Mason Street, shoemaker.

TEMPLAR:

My name is Simon Templar. I don't have an address because I live in hotels. I'm a professional thief.

JILLIAN:

Good. We're getting somewhere. I'd like to respond to that.

The German Businessman is looking at them. Jillian pulls the curtain shut. Then she SLAPS Templar, hard, across the face.

JILLIAN:

You wicked man.

(slaps him again.

You liar.

(slaps him again)

Thief.

She draws back to slap him again. He catches her arm. They freeze this way, faces inches apart. She's trembling, her face a mask of hatred.

JILLIAN:

I hope you rot in hell.

He lets go of her. She stands up.

TEMPLAR:

Where are you going?

JILLIAN:

As far away from you as I can.

Templar pulls out his 9mm pistol.

TEMPLAR:

Sit down.

Jillian stares at the gun.

JILLIAN:

You're joking.

TEMPLAR:

Michael Quinn jokes. I don't.

She glares at him. Slowly sits. Templar pulls out his cellular phone. Punches numbers.

TEMPLAR:

Remy. Be at Moscow Airport at eight a.m., fueled and ready to go.

Templar clicks off the phone and pockets it. Then he pockets the gun, its barrel pointing at Jillian through his jacket. With his free hand he grabs her arm and puts it under his arm, clamping it to his body.

TEMPLAR:

We're going to sit here and not make a scene. I'd get some rest. Templar leans back, shutting his eyes.

TEMPLAR:

I sleep light.

Jillian, out of the corner of her eye, notices something through the curtain... ACROSS THE AISLE - THE GERMAN BUSINESSMAN is folding up his cellular phone and stuffing it in his satchel briefcase on the floor. He leans back and closes his eyes. The satchel briefcase sticks into the aisle. Close enough for Jillian to touch...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. BENARES, INDIA - ESTABLISHING - MORNING

The exquisite, astonishing city on the Ganges River.

EXT. BENARES - UNIVERSITY OF BENARES

A courtyard in the traditional Indian style. Zubov and two of Tretiak's men approach a building. Zubov rings the doorbell. Seconds pass. The door opens. An Indian gentleman peers out. He's about 50, in a madras shirt and nehru jacket. This is DR. VIJAY SINGH, whose taped lecture we heard in Jillian's station wagon.

ZUBOV:

Dr. Singh? Dr. Vijay Singh?

VIJAY SINGH:

Who are you and what do you want?

ZUBOV:

My name is Vapin Zubov. I would like to discuss something with...

VIJAY SINGH:

(scowls)

Come back at a decent hour...

Dr. Singh begins to shut the door. Zubov puts his hand in the door, jamming it.

ZUBOV:

I would like to discuss cold fusion, Doctor. Dr. Singh's demeanor changes. Pushes open the door.

VIJAY SINGH:

Come in.

CUT TO:

INT. THE TRAIN TO MOSCOW - MORNING

PASSENGERS are yawning, pulling up their window blinds. Sunlight streams in. A PORTER passes by. .

PORTER:

Thirty minutes to Moscow, thirty minutes...

The Porter moves past the German Businessman; he's asleep and snoring. Across the aisle --

JILLIAN'S EYES are darting from the German Businessman, to TEMPLAR, who's looking out the window.

JILLIAN:

I need to use the ladies' room. I think you can trust me to...

TEMPLAR:

I don't trust anybody.

Jillian gives Templar a disgusted look. She rises and moves into the aisle. Ternplar follows.

JILLIAN:

Tell me something. How much were you paid?

TEMPLAR:

It's not your business. Move.

JILLIAN:

I think it is. C'mon. Tell me.

TEMPLAR:

Fifteen million dollars, but it didn't work out. Did it.

They pass a PORTER serving snacks (fruits and cheeses) from a cart. Jillian looks' at the cart.

JILLIAN:

Does it bother you? What you do?

TEMPLAR:

No.

JILLIAN:

You have no conscience? No sense of morality?

TEMPLAR:

Define morality.

JILLIAN:

It's a commonly used and generally understood word.

TEMPLAR:

Not by me. .

They've arrived outside the LADIES ROOM. Jillian opens the door, begins to enter.

TEMPLAR:

Wait.

JILLIAN:

You are not going in there with me.

Templar brushes past her, leaving the door open. He steps up on the toilet, examining the WINDOW above.

JILLIAN:

Okay, how about:
Do unto others as they would do unto you.

TEMPLAR:

How about:
Do unto others before they do unto you.

Templar pulls up the window. It opens only five inches; it's prevented from rising further by TWO SAFETY SCREWS drilled through the frame.

JILLIAN:

How about:
love thy neighbor.

TEMPLAR:

The man who said that was crucified by his.

Satisfied, Templar steps down and walks back to Jillian. She shakes her head, laughs mirthlessly.

JILLIAN:

Were you raised by wolves? Who were your parents, Lucretia Borgia and the Marquis de Sader

TEMPLAR:

The two people in question weren't as nice as that. I wouldn't know. I never met them. Are you through? It's all yours.

She gives him a look and shoves past him into --

THE LADIES ROOM Jillian enters, closes the door and locks it. She stands on the toilet and examines the window. Sees the safety screws. She steps down. She turns on the sink, then kneels and pulls up her pantleg, revealing THE GERMAN BUSINESSMAN'S CELLULAR PHONE stuffed in her sock. She pulls it out. She turns the sink on full blast, creating as much noise as she can, and punches numbers.

JILLIAN:

International operator please.

(pause)

The American Embassy in Moscow, please.

Jillian waits for the call to connect and CUT TO:

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - FRONT CAR - AISLES

Jillian exits the ladies' room.

JILLIAN:

You really will rot in hell, know that?

TEMPLAR:

Good, all my friends will be waiting for me. They move down the aisle, passing the SERVING PORTER, Jillian's hand dangles over the fruit and cheese cart. She plucks up a SERVING KNIFE with two fingers and slides it up her sleeve.

JILLIAN:

Friends? I thought you trusted no one.

TEMPLAR:

I don't. Give it to me.

JILLIAN:

(innocently)

What.

TEMPLAR:

The knife you just took.

Jillian sighs. Pulls the serving knife out of her sleeve and hands it over. When she turns back toward her berth, she doesn't like what she sees --

THE GERMAN BUSINESSMAN has woken up. He's yawning, opening up a stack of business correspondence sitting on the armrest of his chair with a LETTER OPENER. JILLIAN continues down the aisle, sweating it out. If the guy discovers that his phone is missing...

Each step is a mile. Finally Jillian and Templar come to their berth. The German Businessman is reading a letter. The letter opener is sitting on the stack of unopened letters. Jillian "accidentally" knocks the stack of letters and letter opener off the armrest. They fall to the floor next to the German Businessman's satchel briefcase. Jillian quickly drops to a kneeling position and begins gathering up all the letters.

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