The Saint Page #8

Templar hits a key and the old screen reappears:

******* WELCOME TO THE INTERNET *******

PLEASE WAIT:

RETRIEVAL CODE:
______________________

But now, in the space next to "Retrieval Code," Templar's data appears. word after word, like this:

-- "Massachusetts"

-- Computer:
ACCESS DENIED

-- "Boston" --

-- Computer:
ACCESS DENIED.

-- "Milton" --

-- Computer:
ACCESS DENIED

-- "Milton Academy"

-- Computer:
ACCESS DENIED

-- "Bulldogs"

-- Computer:
ACCESS DENIED

It's incredibly fast, a new word appearing every second, as the system tries to crack Jillian's code. But the computer denies access to each word. The HOMING DEVICE suddenly BEEPS. The pulsing light has stopped, indicating Jillian is at the liquor store. Templar grimly turns back to the computer.

CUT TO:

INT. WESTCHESTER LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

The clerk, WALTER, hands Jillian her change. She exits with a SCOTCH BOTTLE in a brown wrapper.

CLERK:

Goodnight Jillian.

JILLIAN:

‘Night, Walter.

INT. JILLIAN'S LABORATORY - NIGHT

Templar paces; he looks at the homing device. The PULSING LIGHT is moving back toward Jillian's house. Templar looks at the computer; his system continues entering words: "Hendrix." ACCESS DENIED. "Purple Haze." ACCESS DENIED. "Red Sox." ACCESS DENIED. "Celtics." ACCESS DENIED. On and on...each is met with

ACCESS DENIED.

INT. JILLIAN'S STATION WAGON - DRIVING - NIGHT

Jillian, driving, turns on the radio. She hums along.

INT. JILLIAN'S LABORATORY

Templar stares at the HOMING DEVICE; the pulse is getting closer; it's do or die now... Templar's system suddenly stops. It has run through every word. Each has met with failure. TEMPLAR frowns. He yanks the system disk from the disk drive. He begins pacing...

TEMPLAR:

Okay, think. Think.

Templar suddenly gets an idea. He sits and types: "Tokamak." ACCESS DENIED Templar stares at the screen in frustration.

He looks at the HOMING DEVICE; the pulsing light is getting really close. Templar concentrates with every brain cell. We can feel him think. He's remembering something.

MEMORY FLASHBACK

We're in Jillian's car again, when they first met.

JILLIAN:

Try room temperature, idiot. The Tokamak's got it all backwards.

BACK TO THE LABORATORY

Templar grabs a pencil and notepad and spells out: TOKAMAK. Under this he spells it backwards: KAMAKOT. He turns to the computer and types: "KAMAKOT" And instantly this flashes:

ACCESS GRANTED.

TEMPLAR:

Open sesame.

The retrieval begins: A DOCUMENT appears on the screen: THE GENERATION OF ENERGY FROM COLD NUCLEAR FUSION Submitted by: DR. JILLIAN ST. THOMAS

Templar scrolls through the document; we see a dizzying display of graphs, tables, plans, specifications, etc. Templar pulls out the disk containing Jillian's data and shoves a fresh disk into the disk drive. He begins copying Jillian's research from harddrive to disk. He looks at the HOMING DEVICE. Christ, she's almost back.. .and indeed --

EXT. JILLIAN'S HOUSE

-- Jillian's car comes wheeling into the driveway.

INT. JILLIAN' S LABORATORY - NIGHT

The document is copied. Templar grabs the copied disk from the disk drive and rips the slip of paper from the notepad. He flicks off the computer and sprints across the lab, then up the stairs.

EXT. JILLIAN'S HOUSE

Jillian reaches for the doorknob and enters --

INT. JILLIAN'S HOUSE

She comes in. TEMPLAR, relaxed, lounges on the couch, flipping through some magazines. He smiles:

TEMPLAR:

That was quick.

She walks past him to the bar alcove.

JILLIAN:

Now Mr. Michael Quinn, let's have that scotch. Hey, what happened to the fire?

TEMPLAR:

I thought we'd create our own.

JILLIAN:

(smiles)

Down boy.

He gets up; goes to the fireplace; grabs some logs and lays them across the andirons and we --

DISSOLVE TO:

THE LOGS, now gently burning. Cole Porter is playing. CAMERA PANS past Jillian's shoes on the carpet, past the Oban Scotch on the coffee table, now half empty, to --

-- the couch, where Jillian and Templar are locked in a heavy kiss. Jillian stops.

JILLIAN:

Whoah whoah whoah, time to put on the brakes. Those lips oughtta be licensed buddy...

TEMPLAR:

Sorry. I wasn't trying to...

JILLIAN:

I know you weren't but if we keep going I'm gonna be the one who gets us both in trouble. Whew!

(fans herself)

Haven't felt like that for awhile.

(she brushes a lock of hair from his eyes)

Am I going to see you again?

A pause. Perhaps, just perhaps, for the first time in his black life Templar's having a hard time lying...

JILLIAN:

Michael?

TEMPLAR:

(smiles at her)

How about breakfast?

JILLIAN:

It's a date. I'll walk you out, shoemaker.

EXT. JILLIAN'S HOUSE - NIGHT

In the threshold they kiss again.

TEMPLAR:

Good-night.

JILLIAN:

'Bye. Drive safe.

Templar walks off to his Rolls Royce parked in the driveway. He smiles at her and waves. He turns toward his car; his face goes hard and cold.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. ST. PETERSBURG - NEVSKY PROSPECT - CONTINUOUS LATE AFTERNOON

On the Nevsky Prospect, St. Petersburg's equivalent of the Champs-Elysees –

MICHAEL ROMANOV stands on a raised platform outside the gates of a PALATIAL MANSION taking up a whole city block. TEN THOUSAND SUPPORTERS surround him. Many carry large, slogan-filled banners. Four THUGGISH-LOOKING MEN stand guard inside the mansion's compound, giving Romanov the eye. One is ZERO (Tretiak's bodyguard on Blackfriars Bridge).

MICHAEL ROMANOV:

Where is Russia's capital? Moscow? The Kremlin? No, Russia's capital is...

(points at mansion)

THROUGH THOSE GATES!

(crowd CHEERS)

A den of thieves!

A LIMOUSINE pulls through the crowd, which reluctantly parts. The guards within the compound open the gates.

MICHAEL ROMANOV:

And here - the Prince of Thieves!

GREGOR TRETIAK sits in the back of the limousine, silently glaring at Romanov. The limousine rolls inside the compound, the gates CLANGING shut.

MICHAEL ROMANOV:

Every citizen in St. Petersburg knows what that man does, yet the police don't arrest him. They protect him! How can this be? Maybe we should ask our elected whores in Moscow!

The CROWD CHEERS WILDLY and starts hurling rocks, bottles, etc, through the gate at --

-- TRETIAK, emerging from the limousine. Tretiak's guards surround him; they move quickly up the mansion's marble steps, dodging the thrown debris.

SIRENS WAIL. Four large police vans roar up, the back doors flinging open. ST. PETERSBURG POLICE, in riot gear, deploy from the vans. The police push into the crowd, wielding riot shields and batons. A melee breaks out, Romanov supporters versus the police.

INT. TRETIAK' S HEADQUARTERS - EVENING

Tretiak and his men move past A GUARD STATION manned by TWO GUARDS watching six SURVEILLANCE MONITORS (showing, at all times, certain areas of. the compound).

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes