Thirteen Days

DARKNESS. As the MAIN TITLES BEGIN, the theater thrums with

a subsonic HISS which mounts in all the rattling power of

THX, and we...

BURN IN, BRIGHT LIVING COLOR:

EXT. STRATOSPHERE - DAY

The glory of stratospheric dawn. The engines of a silver

Lockheed U-2F rasp upon the trace oxygen here at 72,500 feet.

Scattered cloud formations hang over the blue brilliance of

sea far, far below. In the haze, the looming edge of land.

SUPER:
FLIGHT G-3101. OCTOBER 14TH, 1962. OVER CUBA.

The spy plane's CAMERA DOORS whine open. The glassy eye of

the 36-inch camera focuses. And then with a

BANGBANGBANGBANG, its high-speed motor kicks in, shutter

flying.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. O'DONNELL BEDROOM - DAY

A simple CAMERA, snapping away furiously in the hands of a

giggling MARK O'DONNELL, 4. He's straddling and in the face

of his dad, KENNY O'DONNELL, 30's, tough, Boston-Irish, with

a prodigious case of morning hair. Kenny awakens, red-eyed.

HELEN (O.S.)

Mark, get off your father!

Kenny sits up to the morning bedlam of the O'Donnell house.

KIDS screech, doors bang all over. Kenny pushes Mark over,

rolls out of bed, snatches up the corners of the blanket and

hoists Mark over his shoulder in a screaming, kicking bundle.

INT. O'DONNELL HALLWAY - DAY

Kenny, with Mark in the bundle on his shoulder, meets his

wife HELEN going the other way in the hall with LITTLE HELEN,

1, in her arms.

KENNY:

Hi, hon.

They kiss in passing. Daughter KATHY, 12, races by in angry

pursuit of her twin, KEVIN, 12.

HELEN:

Don't forget, Mrs. Higgins wants to talk

to you this afternoon about Kevin. You

need to do something about this.

KENNY:

Kids are supposed to get detention.

Kenny dumps the bundle with Mark in a big pile of dirty

laundry.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. MCCOY AIR FORCE BASE - FLORIDA - DAY

A pair of massive FILM CANISTERS unlock and drop from the

belly of the U-2. TECHNICIANS secure them in orange carrying

cases, lock them under key, fast and proficient. They whisk

them out from under the spy plane.

The Technicians run for an idling Jeep. They sling the cases

into the rear of the vehicle which in turn accelerates away

hard, curving across the runway for another waiting plane.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. O'DONNELL KITCHEN - DAY

A kitchen out of the late 1950's. Kenny drinks coffee, ties

a tie, rifles through a briefcase at the kitchen table. The

horde of kids, ages 2-14, breakfast on an array of period

food. Kenny grills the kids while he goes over papers.

KENNY:

Secretary of Defense...

KEVIN:

Dean Rusk!

KENNY:

Wrong, and you get to wax my car.

KENNY JR. smirk at Kevin.

KENNY JR.

Rusk is State, moron. Robert McNamara.

HELEN:

Got time for pancakes?

KENNY:

Nope. Attorney General?

A PHONE RINGS as the kids cry out en masse.

KIDS:

(chorus)

Too easy! Bobby, Bobby Kennedy!

Kenny glances up at the wall. There are two phones, side by

side. One RED, one BLACK. It's the black one ringing.

Helen answers. Kenny goes back to his papers.

KENNY:

All right, wise guys, Assistant

Secretary of State for Latin America...

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. STEUART BUILDING - DAY

A U.S. Navy truck lurches to a stop in front of the run-down,

brick-faced seven-story Steuart Building on 5th and K. Rear

doors BANG open, and out hop two MARINE GUARDS, side arms

drawn, film canisters in a carrying case between them.

SUPER:
NATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHIC INTERPRETATION CENTER

(NPIC), WASHINGTON D.C.

As the Marines approach the building, front doors SLAM open.

INT. OPERATIONS OFFICE, NPIC - DAY

A bespectacled OPERATIONS MANAGER hands a clipboard to one of

the big Marine Guards who in turn hands him a set of keys.

The Manager unlocks the film cases. PHOTO INTERPRETERS swoop

in, whisk away the contents: SPOOLS OF FILM.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. O'DONNELL RESIDENCE - DAY

A black Lincoln pulls away from the modest white house on a

tidy Washington D.C. residential street.

EXT. WASHINGTON D.C., AERIAL - DAY

The car threads its way through the Washington traffic, past

the big administrative buildings, down tree-lined avenues,

takes a turn into a gate. As the car stops at the gate, the

CAMERA flies past, revealing it's the gate to the WHITE

HOUSE.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. NPIC - DAY

CLOSE ON the five-thousand rolls of film spewing through

processing equipment, its streaking passage leading us

straight through the development machinery to:

A SERIES OF VARIOUS SHOTS:

Photo Interpreters power up light tables, stereoscopic

viewers, zip across the floor in wheeled chairs.

Flying switches, flickering lights, humming motors. It's an

eerie dance of technological black magic.

Another pair of Interpreters loom out of the darkness, side

by side, ghostly looking, their glasses reflecting the glare

of the light table, like magicians staring into a crystal

ball.

IMAGES FILL THE SCREEN

Aerial shots, flashing by. Cuban countryside from 72,500

feet. A MAGNIFYING GLASS swings down on its arm in front of

us, magnifying the carpet of trees... and a row of six canvas

covered OBJECTS among them.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. WHITE HOUSE - WEST WING - DAY

Kenny, in business suit and tie, trots up the steps, and a

MARINE GUARD snaps the door open for him.

INT. WEST WING - CONTINUOUS

Kenny, briefcase in hand, weaves his way through the empty,

ornate hallways of the West Wing. Past magnificent doorways,

early American furniture, paintings. He finally reaches a

doorway, goes through into:

INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

A long, narrow affair, window at the back looking out into

the Rose Garden. Kenny dumps his briefcase on the desk,

shucks off his coat, removes a folder from his briefcase,

turns and heads back out...

INT. WEST WING HALLS - CONTINUOUS

And into the warren of offices and halls that is the working

White House. He takes a right, passes the doors to the Oval

Office right next to his office, goes down a long, straight

hall, into...

INT. MANSION - CONTINUOUS

The formal main building, the executive mansion. He passes

the busts of Presidents past, turns left into an elevator.

The doors close.

INT. 3RD FLOOR - FAMILY QUARTERS - DAY

The doors open. Kenny strides out onto a DIFFERENT FLOOR,

the third. He heads down the long, posh hall of the family

quarters. Fine furnishings, art. The living White House.

He approaches the double doors at the end of the hall guarded

by a cluster of SECRET SERVICE AGENTS. An agent opens one of

the doors.

KENNY:

Morning, Floyd.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT

Good morning, Mr. O'Donnell.

INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Kenny enters the elegant bedroom. The figure alone at a side

table by the window, drinks coffee, breakfast still spread

out before him, Washington Post obscuring his face.

KENNY:

Top o' the morning, Mr. President.

The figure lowers the paper.

It is PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY. He's wearing boxers and a

tank top. Unshaven. Bed-head.

Kenny O'Donnell, former ward-pol and long-time Kennedy man,

is his Chief of Staff...

THE PRESIDENT:

Morning, Kenny. You see this goddamn

Capehart stuff?

The President rattles the paper. Kenny collapses in the

chair opposite the President, sprawls, comfortable.

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