The Siege

FADE IN:

EXT. TYRE, LEBANON - DAY

A coast road. Date palms. Burnt-out hulks that once were

Russian T-54 TANKS have long ago been left to rust in the

sun. A 4-door MERCEDES hurtles down the ancient road.

DEVEREAUX (V.O.)

We're online for exactly two minutes.

A SATELLITE VIEW

Of the same scene. A grainy IMAGE of the car, and some

distance away, a moving cluster of animals. They are:

HERD OF SHEEP:

As seen at ground level. Two SHEPHERDS goad them forward. In

the distance, the MERCEDES approaches.

FLASH CUT -- NEWS FOOTAGE (STOCK)

U.S. Army medics and rescue workers frantically sift through

the rubble of a collapsed barracks.

CNN REPORTS (V.O.)

"...the single worst casualty in the

history of American military --"

BACK TO -- THE COAST ROAD

The Mercedes barrels down the road, doing at least 80 mph.

THE SATELLITE VIEW

Shows that the car is fast approaching the point where the

herd of sheep are about to cross the road.

FLASH CUT -- NEWS FOOTAGE (STOCK)

Amidst the rubble, the dead are zipped into body bags.

CNN REPORTS (V.O.)

"-- the truck, carrying high

explosives is believed to have hit

the barracks --

BACK TO -- THE COAST ROAD

The driver of the Mercedes hits his horn but doesn't slow

down. In addition to the driver and a bodyguard, an OLD MAN

WITH A HENNAED BEARD, a turban, and sunglasses sits in back.

THE SATELLITE VIEW

As the Mercedes closes with the sheep:

DEVEREAUX (V.O.)

Slow down.

BACK TO -- THE COAST ROAD

As if on command, the Mercedes finally slows as the sheep

move lazily across the road.

FLASH CUT -- NEWS FOOTAGE (STOCK)

President Clinton addresses reporters in the White House.

PRESIDENT CLINTON

"To any lengths, anywhere in the

world, to bring these people to

justice."

BACK TO -- THE COAST ROAD

Inside the Mercedes, they watch as the Shepherd urinates and

the sheep mill about in the middle of the road. The driver

rolls down his window to scream in Arabic at:

THE POOR SHEPHERD

Who hurries to button his fly. It is only as we look closer

that we see the silenced muzzle of:

COLT COMMANDO RIFLE

Protruding from the sleeve of his jhallabah. And then:

THE HERD OF SHEEP

Fill the frame, blocking our view of the Mercedes, and for a

moment, all we can HEAR is their gentle bleating. But as

they clear frame, we can see that:

THE MERCEDES:

Has been turned into an abattoir, its windshield shattered

and bloody. The driver slumps over the steering wheel, the

bodyguard is half out of the window. And in the distance:

WITH A MAGICIAN'S ALACRITY

One Shepherd pulls a BLACK HOOD over the Sheik's head while

the other injects him with a HYPODERMIC. The first Shepherd

activates a SATCHEL CHARGE and swings it into the Mercedes

while the second straps the Sheik into a HARNESS... A BALLOON

self-inflates and hurtles aloft, pulling a cable attached to

the Sheik's harness.

AN MC-130 COMBAT TALON AIRCRAFT

Its "Whiskers" in the nose of the aircraft snag the cable

without slowing and roars off, the Sheik dangling unconscious

beneath -- just as the satchel charges EXPLODE the Mercedes.

THE SATELLITE VIEW

Records impassively for a moment, then breaks up into static.

DEVEREAUX:

Gotcha.

IN A SAFE HOUSE -- SOMETIME LATER

A pale, diminished Sheik sits at a steelcase table. A STEEL

COT and a STEEL TOILET. Closed-circuit cameras in the corner.

Opposite him:
the man, whose voice we have only heard: GENERAL

WILLIAM DEVEREAUX -- and though he wears a civilian suit,

his bearing betrays his pedigree. His considerable charm and

habitual skepticism are as much a product of self-discipline

as his close-order drill.

DEVEREAUX:

Nobody knows you're here. Not your

people. Not even my President. You'll

die here alone and be buried unknown --

barring some miracle.

The SHEIK speaks a few words in Arabic.

DEVEREAUX:

-- God? GOD?

(looks at him)

What you eat. Whether you eat. Sleep.

Pain. Absence of pain. I decide. I

make the day and the night. Even the

way you got here -- a hand that

reached down from the sky?

(looks at him)

God? I am your new God.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MOSQUE - DAWN

A MUEZZIN climbs a spiral staircase, enters a turret-like

room, CLICKS ON a microphone and CHANTS the call to prayer.

MUEZZIN:

Allahuh Akbar...

HUNDREDS OF BELIEVERS prostrate themselves on prayer rugs.

At the door, hundreds of SHOES are lined up, work boots,

expensive loafers, a range of social classes represented.

ON THE STREET:

Shopkeepers pause to kneel and pray. In Arab homes, parents

and children do the same. And as we PULL BACK from:

THE MINARET:

Of the Mosque, we DISCOVER not an Arab city, but instead the

unmistakable skyline of:

DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN

The World Trade Ctr, Wall Street, The Federal building.

IN THE FBI SITUATION ROOM

Two AGENTS hurry through the bullpen. TINA OSU, 32, sharp,

and FRANK HADDAD, Lebanese with an insouciant grin.

TINA:

Brooklyn South issued a code blue

less than two minutes ago. They think

hostages are involved.

FRANK:

Black-and-whites on the scene?

TINA:

Setting up a perimeter now.

FRANK:

Residence or business?

TINA:

A bus.

Sequence omitted from original script.

THE 99 BUS -- SEEN FROM ABOVE

Surrounded by a phalanx of Black-and-Whites.

BACK TO -- THE SITUATION ROOM

They have been joined by Anthony Hubbard, the ASAC.

HUB:

SWAT?

FRANK:

On the way.

HUB:

Negotiator?

TINA:

Rolling.

HUB:

Bomb squad?

THE 99 BUS

The BOMB SQUAD approaches. We SEE terrified PASSENGERS inside.

BACK TO -- HUB AND FRANK, EXITING THE FEDERAL BUILDING

HUB:

How soon can we get there --?

FRANK:

In this traffic, maybe tomorrow.

BACK TO -- THE 99 BUS

As a police TECHIE inserts a dentist's mirror through a

drilled hole in the bus's door, the L.E.D. begins to BLINK

and the passengers SCREAM and dive for cover. An EXPLOSION.

BACK TO -- HUB AND FRANK, IN THE CAR

Frank is listening to a cell phone.

FRANK:

Oh, f***. It just blew.

BACK TO -- THE 99 BUS

The doors hang off their hinges. As the PASSENGERS tumble

off, we SEE they are covered in BLUE PAINT.

BACK TO -- HUB AND FRANK, IN THE CAR

HUB:

-- What?!

FRANK:

-- That's what they're telling me.

HUB:

-- And nobody's hurt?

Frank nods. Hubs closes his eyes in gratitude.

HUB:

Thank God.

CUT TO:

THE JOINT FBI/NYPD TERRORISM TASK FORCE - FEDERAL BLDG

They're listening to a tape-recording, altered by a VO-CORDER:

TAPED VOICE:

-- our first and last warning.

As the MESSAGE continues, we PAN the faces: MIKE JOHANNSON,

squad supervisor, and DANNY SUSSMAN, representing NYPD.

TAPED VOICE:

We expect our demand to be met. There

will be no negotiation. That is all.

TINA:

Demand for what? You hear any demand?

MIKE:

You sure this is all they got?

SUSSMAN:

That's it.

FRANK:

Maybe it's performance art.

Sussman shoots him a look. Clearly Haddad enjoys pushing his

buttons. Finally, Hub stands up.

HUB:

-- Okay. Blue paint. Voice-altering

technology --

FRANK:

-- available from The Sharper Image

catalogue.

SUSSMAN:

Last I looked they weren't offering

exploding paint bombs.

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