Thirteen Days Page #20

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

Very well. Load your guns.

That starts McNamara from his fatigued reverie. He goes to

the railing, looks down on Anderson.

MCNAMARA:

What was that, Admiral?

Anderson turns, gazes up from his tier below, distracted.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

We've been hailing the Groznyy for the

last hour, Mr. Secretary. The Groznyy

refuses to stop.

MCNAMARA:

What are you doing?

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

Carrying out our mission, Mr. Secretary.

If you don't mind, we're very busy right

now. We need to be able to do our jobs.

MCNAMARA:

Admiral, I asked you a question.

Anderson holds the phone aside, turns around again, looks up

at him, impatient. His answer is hard, cold, dangerous.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

We're going to follow the Rules of

Engagement. The Rules of Engagement

which the President has approved and

signed in his order of October 23rd.

Anderson listens again to the phone.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON (CONT'D)

Yes, Captain, you may proceed. Clear

your guns.

MCNAMARA:

What --

EXT. OCEAN, PUERTO RICO TRENCH - CONTINUOUS

The Destroyer's forward 5-inch twin guns swivel, train on the

Groznyy. A beat. They OPEN FIRE with an ear-splitting

BAMBAM, ripping the air in front of the muzzles, the Groznyy

so close a miss isn't possible.

INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS

McNamara SHOUTS at Anderson, dropping down the steps to

Anderson's level.

MCNAMARA:

GODDAMNIT, STOP THAT FIRING!

Watch Officers scramble to comply, chaos and shouting in the

war room as a chorus if "Cease fire cease fire cease fire,"

goes up. McNamara turns on Anderson, is in his face.

MCNAMARA (CONT'D)

Jesus Christ, God help us.

Anderson smashes the phone down, wheels on McNamara, furious.

EXT. OCEAN, PUERTO RICO TRENCH - CONTINUOUS

The Destroyer's guns hammer away at the Groznyy, at point

blank range... but the Groznyy IS UNHARMED.

Suddenly, in the air above it appear BRILLIANT FLARES. They

light up the ship, brighter than the sun. The destroyer

isn't firing deadly rounds... it's firing harmless

starshells.

INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS

Anderson gets in McNamara's face.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

That ship was firing starshells.

Starshells. Flares, Mr. Secretary.

Everyone's eyes are on the two men. Only the chatter of

teletype breaks the paralyzing silence. McNamara blinks,

looks down at the plot on the floor. Anderson's voice drops

to a deadly sotto.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON (CONT'D)

Goddammitt, I've got a job to do.

You've been camped out up there since

Monday night. You're exhausted and

you're making mistakes. Interfere with

me, you will get some of killed. I will

not allow that.

McNamara looks away at the faces of the men in the room.

MCNAMARA:

Starshells.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

Get out of our way, Mr. Secretary. The

navy has been running blockades since

the days of John Paul Jones.

McNamara turns back. And all trepidation, embarrassment,

hesitation are gone. He coldly appraises Anderson.

MCNAMARA:

I believe the President made it clear

that there would be no firing on ships

without his express permission.

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

With all due respect, Mr. Secretary, we

were not firing on the ship. Firing on

a ship means attacking the ship. We

were not attacking the ship. We were

firing over it.

MCNAMARA:

This was not the President's intention

when he gave that order. What if the

Soviets don't see the distention? What

if they make the same mistake I just

did?

(beat)

There will be no firing anything near

ANY Soviet ships without my express

permission, is that understood, Admiral?

ADMIRAL ANDERSON

Yes, sir.

MCNAMARA:

And I will only issue such instructions

when ordered to by the President.

(beat)

John Paul Jones... you don't understand

a thing, do you, Admiral?

He passes his hand over the enormous plot below.

MCNAMARA (CONT'D)

This isn't a blockade.

McNamara, trembling with anger, awe, whirls to Anderson. And

his burgeoning insight is born - clear, hard and cold.

MCNAMARA (CONT'D)

This, all this, is language, a new

vocabulary the likes of which the world

has never seen.

This is President Kennedy communicating

with Secretary Khruschev.

McNamara JABS HIS FINGER OUT AT the plot, and --

-- the CAMERA RACES DOWN, TRACKING OVER IT, across the vast

ebb and flow of information, the delicate ballet of symbols

and numerology, this language of steel and human life.

INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY

SUPER:
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26TH. DAY 11.

On Kenny's T.V. Walter Cronkite reads the news to footage of

a BOARDING PARTY going up a ladder to the freighter MARCULA.

WALTER CRONKITE (V.O.)

At 7:
29 this morning, the U.S.S. Joseph

Kennedy stopped and boarded the Soviet

charter vessel Marcula.

The Boarding Party wears dress whites and is UNARMED.

WALTER CRONKITE (V.O.) (CONT'D)

After a 3-hour inspection, the Kennedy

signaled no contraband found. Cleared

to continue. Pentagon spokesmen expect

the next encounter.

Kenny, who turns from the T.V. as the door to his office

opens. Rusk walks in.

RUSK:

Kenny, we need to see the President.

Something's happened.

Kenny reacts to Rusk's enigmatic expression. And out from

behind Rusk steps JOHN SCALI, the ABC News Correspondent.

INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY

OFF THEIR REACTIONS, the CAMERA FINDS an under-strength, ad

hoc EXCOM - Kenny, Bobby, Taylor, Bundy, Sorensen, McCone,

Ball and the President. Guarded hope all around. The short,

balding, pugnacious Scali looks discomfited.

SCALI:

I have lunch with him maybe once a

month. Way he talks, he acts like he

knows Khruschev personally, but he's

never elaborated. I've used him as a

source in a couple of stories.

Kenny paces behind the gathered men around the President's

desk, listening, mind going a million miles an hour.

RUSK:

The FBI has identified this Alexander

Fomin as the Soviet Resident, the KGB

equivalent of one of our station chiefs.

He's their highest ranking spy in this

country. And he knows John's a friend

of mine.

BUNDY:

All the trademarks of a back-channel

overture.

Kenny eyes Bundy, makes him uncomfortable. The President

sizes Scali up.

THE PRESIDENT:

So they'll remove the missiles, and

we'll pledge not to invade Cuba,

destabilize Castro or assist anyone who

plans in doing so...

Nobody dares speak. It's as if the possibility of a

settlement will vanish into thin air if anyone moves.

BOBBY:

I think... this may be our first real

message from Khruschev.

MCCONE:

The alternative, Mr. President, is that

this could be a trap.

KENNY:

Dangle a settlement, tie us down in

negotiations, we come up short...

MCCONE:

Why else would they approach us in this

way? It's deniable. The Soviets have

done nothing but lie to us. This could

be more of the same.

KENNY:

That may be why Khruschev's introducing

this guy. We've been burned by his

usual players in the formal channels, so

he brings in an honest broker.

MCCONE:

That may be what they want us to think.

RUSK:

The truth is, Mr. President, we don't

even really know whom Fomin speaks for.

It could be Khruschev. It could be some

faction in the Politburo or the KGB

itself. We just don't know.

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