Thirteen Days Page #23

LUNDAHL:

Mr. President...

Lundahl stands there at the end of the table, gray. He

almost can't say it, can't look the President in the face.

LUNDAHL (CONT'D)

This morning's photography is in. It

appears the Soviets have commenced a

crash program to ready the missiles.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. MISSILE SITE - CUBA - CONTINUOUS

The missiles site is now more than just dirt and clearing

equipment. It's an armed camp, with missiles, fuel trailers,

erectors spaced every few hundred yards. MISSILE TECHNICIANS

service the towering SS-4s.

LUNDAHL (V.O.)

The first missiles became operational

last night.

With a barrage of shouted orders in Russian, and a whine of

the ERECTOR's engines, THE MISSILE BEGINS TO RISE.

LUNDAHL (V.O.) (CONT'D)

We expect they'll all be operational in

36 hours:
Monday morning.

It stops, vertical.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. CABINET ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The news hits the room like a thunderbolt. Kenny looks to

Bobby and the President. The blood is gone from their faces.

MCNAMARA:

Then we're out of time. We have to go

in.

LUNDAHL:

That may not be as easy as we thought

either. We've gotten confirmation that

the Soviets have also deployed

battlefield nuclear weapons to Cuba.

A pall falls over the room as LeMay explains.

LEMAY:

FROGS, we call 'em. Short range

tactical nukes. It's possible they've

delegated release authority to their

local commanders for use against our

invasion troops. It'd be standard

doctrine.

(beat)

Our capability to get all the missiles

has eroded during our delay with the

quarantine. The good news is that for

the moment we know where the FROGS are,

and we can target them, too. But the

longer we wait, the hard it's going to

get.

They all look to the President. Kenny stares, in a private

hell, blacker and more complete than anyone should ever know.

In that shocked silence each man grapples with failure. The

Best and the Brightest could not prevent what must come next.

THE PRESIDENT:

Then we have no choice.

(to Taylor)

General, issue the warning orders to our

forces. They will be prepared to

execute the air strikes Monday morning

and the follow-on invasion according to

the schedule thereafter. I'll need the

official release orders on my desk

Sunday night.

GENERAL TAYLOR:

Understood, sir. We need to step up the

overflights, finalize our pilots' target

folders in order to be able to carry out

the strikes.

The President gives Kenny a meaningful look.

THE PRESIDENT:

Permission granted.

Taylor exits. Kenny rises, gives the President an almost

imperceptible nod, as he prepares to leave in Taylor's wake.

THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D)

Gentlemen, if anybody's got any great

ideas, now's the time...

INT. READY ROOM - MACDILL AFB - DAY

MAJOR RUDOLPH ANDERSON, 30, wearing the bulky high-altitude

pressure suit of a U-2 pilot, takes the phone from one of the

Air Force NCOs who are helping him suit up.

MAJOR ANDERSON:

This is Major Anderson.

INTERCUT CALL TO:

INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

Kenny, at the other end of the line, stares out the window at

the fall day. It seems so mild, so unlike war. And it takes

him a beat before he realizes Anderson's on the line.

MAJOR ANDERSON (O.S.)

Hello? Anyone there?

KENNY:

Major, my name is Kenneth O'Donnell.

Special Assistant to the President.

Kenny takes a breath, ready to start the shuck-and-jive...

but for some reason doesn't.

KENNY (CONT'D)

Major, a few days ago the President

ordered me to help him keep control of

what's going on out there. I've been

browbeating pilots, navy guys left and

right to make sure you don't get us here

in Washington into trouble. But you

know what? We're pretty damn good at

getting ourselves into trouble. So

instead of riding your ass, I'm just

going to tell you what's going on, and

let you figure out how best to help us

out up here.

INT. READY ROOM - MACDILL AFB - CONTINUOUS

Now mostly suited up, Major Anderson takes the phone out of

the NCO's hand. He nods, serious.

MAJOR ANDERSON:

Go ahead, sir.

INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

KENNY:

Last night, we looked like we were going

to cut a deal to get us all out of this

mess. Today, the Soviets are reneging.

We're going to try to salvage the

situation, but a lot of things are going

wrong today. It's making everyone

nervous, and it will be very hard to

avoid going to war. Don't get shot

down, Major. Beyond that, whatever else

you can do to help us, I'd really

appreciate it.

INT. READY ROOM - MACDILL AFB - CONTINUOUS

Major Anderson waves his NCOs away. They leave the room.

The Major sits on a bench in front of his locker, thinks.

MAJOR ANDERSON:

When you're up there at 72,000 feet,

there's a million things that can go

wrong. Is your oxygen mix right? Will

your cameras freeze up? Are you leaving

contrail...

(beat)

Those million things are beyond your

control, mostly... But you know, when

you realize that, there's a kind of

peace. You don't need to be in control.

You never were in control in the first

place. If you're a good man, and your

ground crew are good men, it's all you

can ask for. And with the grace of G-d,

it'll get you through.

The young Major smiles to himself, to the phone.

MAJOR ANDERSON (CONT'D)

You sound like a good man. You'll be

all right, Mr. O'Donnell. We believe in

you guys down here.

(beat)

Thanks for the call.

INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

Kenny nods to himself, deeply touched by the man's faith.

KENNY:

Thank you, Major.

INT. READY ROOM - MACDILL AFB - CONTINUOUS

With a click, the line goes dead and Anderson walks the phone

over to the receiver on the wall.

END INTERCUT:

EXT. RUNWAY - MACDILL AFB - MOMENTS LATER

A cart speeds down the tarmac, an NCO behind the wheel.

Beside him sits Major Anderson, his helmet on, visor up. He

adjusts the mix on the oxygen bottle he's carrying at his

feet, breathing in preparation for the high-altitude flight.

Up ahead, among a host of service vehicles, sits the U-2.

INT. U-2 - DAY

Anderson switches over to the U-2's oxygen supply as his NCOs

belt him in. They slap him on the helmet for good luck and

lower the canopy as he brings his engines up to power.

MAJOR ANDERSON:

This is flight G3132, requesting

permission for take-off.

TOWER VOICE (O.S.)

G3132, you've got runway one, you are

cleared to proceed to Angels 72.

MAJOR ANDERSON:

Roger that.

And he throws the throttle forward,

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. STRATOSPHERE - MOMENTS LATER

The twilight, in-between, world of the stratosphere. Far

below -- clouds, shining blue day. Above, stars and the

indigo depths of space. We hang in utter silence.

A silver glint appears in the center of the horizon. It

grows larger. Then larger still. It is the U-2. We barely

have time to register the rising hiss of its engines, when it

FILLS THE SCREEN and BOOMS PAST, leaving us standing still.

The CAMERA PANS to follow it, but it's already dwindled to a

speck, and we feel how fast 600 miles an hour really is.

INT. U-2 - CONTINUOUS

Anderson's gloved hand reaches for the CAMERA HEATER

switches.

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