The Saint Page #16

JILLIAN:

I'm so sorry!

As Jillian rises and hands the German Businessman his letters, we see that –

THE CELLULAR PHONE is back in the German Businessman's satchel briefcase. Templar and Jillian sit down.

CUT TO:

EXT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION, TRAIN PLATFORM - MORNING

The train pulls into the station.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - MORNING

The Porter comes down the aisle, calling out:

PORTER:

Moscow Station, Moscow Station!

Templar and Jillian move with the other passengers toward the exits. As they pass the ladies' room:

JILLIAN:

Give me a second, will you? I don't feel well.

TEMPLAR:

Make it quick.

Jillian goes in the bathroom.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - LADIES' ROOM

Jillian enters and stands on the toilet. Out comes the German Businessman's LETTER OPENER. She centers the opener in one of the screw heads, leans into it, and twists. She begins unscrewing it.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - AISLE OUTSIDE LADIES' ROOM

Templar is impatiently looking at the ladies' room door. The passengers are filing past him. He knocks on the door.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - LADIES' ROOM

Jillian's got one screw out. The other is coming. Templar KNOCKS again.

JILLIAN:

Just a second.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - AISLE OUTSIDE LADIES' ROOM

Templar knocks again, LOUDER. No response inside. The German Businessman passes by him...

GERMAN BUSINESSMAN

Porter, I seem to have lost my letter opener...

Templar stares at the guy.

INT. TRAIN TO MOSCOW - LADIES ROOM

The door SMASHES open, splintering the lock. Templar bursts in. Something instantly gets his attention. The fully opened window. And no Jillian... Templar bolts out.

CUT TO:

INT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION, MAIN CONCOURSE - MORNING

Jillian hurries up the escalator to the main concourse. A stupendous, vaulted interior. As impressive as Grand Central in New York or Victoria in London. She moves through the crowd. Eyes scanning everything and nothing. She bumps into A COMMUTER, who scowls. Jillian takes cover by one of the immense marble pillars. She pulls her collar up. Waits it out.

ACROSS THE CONCOURSE - A MAN studies her. He's tall, blonde, looks like he played linebacker for Ohio State. He approaches. She eyes him. Everyone is a potential enemy. But this guy is obviously American.

BLONDE MAN:

Ms. St. Thomas? Jillian?

JILLIAN:

Yes.

The Blonde Man opens his wallet, flipping out his EMBASSY BADGE and C. I. A. CREDENTIALS.

WHITEHEAD:

John Whitehead, Special Agent, Central Intelligence Agency. Was your trip all right?

JILLIAN:

Yes it was fine, oh who cares, I'm finally safe...

(squeezes his hand)

Do you have a car?

WHITEHEAD:

Yes, outside. First I'd like to ask you some questions. That was an interesting story you told the embassy.

JILLIAN:

Interesting? It's true.

WHITEHEAD:

Please understand: the United States Embassy receives fifty calls a day. My husband's been murdered, my daughter's been sold into white slavery, you get the idea. So before we waste a lot of people's time, Ms. St. Thomas, you say you have p.h.d.s in chemistry and nuclear physics. What's the atomic symbol for, say. ..gold?

Pause. Jillian stares at Whitehead.

JILLIAN:

You've gotta be kidding me...

CUT TO:

INT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION - TRAIN PLATFORM - MORNING

Templar dashes across the platform, looking everywhere. Jillian has vanished. Suddenly his cellular phone chirps. He unpockets it and clicks it on.

TEMPLAR:

Talk to me, Frankie.

INT. ST. PETERSBURG - FRANKIE'S HOTEL ROOM - MORNING

FRANKIE, red-eyed and drinking coffee, is staring at the video transmission from Tretiak's office. Tretiak and Ilya are talking. .

INTERCUT BETWEEN THE TWO (as deemed necessary)

FRANKIE:

She called the U.S. Embassy a half hour ago.

TEMPLAR:

What?

(considers this)

Does Tretiak know?

FRANKIE:

Simon, the U.S. Embassy has more leaks than a Polish submarine. Who do you think intercepted the call?

As FRANKIE says that, she doubletakes at the monitor showing Tretiak's office. Frankie's eyes widen.

ON THE VIDEO MONITOR - A THIRD MAN has entered the room. It is the crusading reformer, MICHAEL ROMANOV. Frankie stabs a button on a tape recorder next to her monitors. It begins taping the transmission from Tretiak's office.

TEMPLAR:

Thanks, Frankie.

FRANKIE:

Simon, wait. . . . CLICK.

Frankie turns some dials, bringing into ZOOM FOCUS Tretiak and Romanov. She ups the volume. We hear this:

TRETIAK:

Hail Michael Romanov, Czar of the Fatherland. How will that sound to the average Russian?

FRANKIE:

(a whisper)

I don't believe it...

CUT TO:

INT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION - ESCALATOR - DAY

TEMPLAR runs up the escalator, plowing through the disembarking passengers, taking two stairs at a time.

INT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION, MAIN CONCOURSE - MORNING

Templar comes off the escalator. The place is packed with COMMUTERS. He moves off, eyes darting in all directions for Jillian, while meanwhile –

ACROSS THE CONCOURSE, BY THE PILLAR - CONTINUOUS

JILLIAN:

. ..Cd, that's big "C" little "d," cadmium's valence is 2, its atomic number is 48 and its atomic weight is 112.411 or would you like that carried out five more decimal places? Good enough?

WHITEHEAD:

(smiles)

Good enough. Come this way, Ms. St. Thomas. He ushers her off.

As they move from behind the pillar, 50 yards away --

ACROSS THE CONCOURSE - TEMPLAR sees Jillian and Whitehead. He looks around, thinking. He sprints for the side exit.

EXT. MOSCOW - GORKY STATION - MAIN ENTRANCE/EXIT - DAY

The circular drive where travelers are picked up and deposited by taxis, buses, automobiles. Jillian and Whitehead exit the station. AHEAD - TWO MERCEDES SEDANS are waiting. Several darksuited MEN stand next to an open back door.

JILLIAN:

(shakes her head)

What a nightmare.. To think my work could just be taken from me...

WHITEHEAD:

You're safe now, Doctor St. Thomas. We'll have you back in New York in no time. They continue toward the parked Mercedes.

Suddenly Jillian blinks. She sees something. It's TEMPLAR, driving a Russian sedan. He rolls to a stop across the circular drive, staring a hole right through Jillian, grimly shaking his head at her, trying to warn her...

JILLIAN:

Agent Whitehead...

Whitehead looks at Jillian.

Pause. Jillian eyes Templar across the drive.

AGENT WHITEHEAD:

Yes?

Jillian looks at the men waiting by the Mercedes. She looks at two Moscow police officers standing to the side. Something's wrong. Something doesn't feel right.

AGENT WHITEHEAD:

Ms. St. Thomas? You had a question?

They're drawing closer to the waiting Mercedes...

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