Tomorrow Never Dies

FADE IN ON:

EXT. DESOLATE MOUNTAIN RANGE - HIGH ANGLE - DAWN

Super:
THE KHYBER PASS, AFGHANISTAN

We're looking down at what used to be called "The End of the Known

World." A landscape that is both beautiful, and forbidding.

In the center of this vista, there is a deep ravine.

Pushing in on the ravine, there appears to be a giant icicle hanging

over a cliff:

AN ICE FALL. A 600 foot waterfall whose face is frozen solid.

Pushing in still closer, there is a tiny black dot inching its way up

the ice. A human figure. This is:

JAMES BOND, BRITISH SECRET SERVICE AGENT, 007.

Bond is sweating and straining, four hundred feet in the air. He has

an ice-pick tethered to each hand, ice-cleats on his boots. A black

backpack. As he climbs, spider-like, pulling himself up, he goes to

JAM A CLEAT into the ice, but -

CRACK! A 50 foot stiletto of ice breaks off, CRASHING onto the rocks

below. Regaining his foothold, Bond looks down: Certain death. He

looks up:
So very, very, far to go. Bond shakes his head:

BOND:

There has to be an easier way to earn

a living.

Still, Bond climbs. Huffing, sweating, he goes up, and up, until -

ANOTHER ANGLE -

He's 25 feet from the top. He drives a first ice pick in. Gets a

toehold. But when he slams the second pick in -

THE ICE WALL SHATTERS, FALLING AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM. IN THE SHOCK -

BOND LOSES HIS GRIP ON THE FIRST ICE PICK -

And 007 is now dangling, 575 feet in the air, staring at a torrent of

water - hanging only by the leather thread around his wrist, attached

to the first ice-pick, still embedded in the wall.

Bond pauses. Thinks. And coolly begins to swing himself back and

forth, in widening arcs, like a clock's pendulum.

At the high point of his swing, Bond reaches back to smash his other

pick into the ice - BUT MISSES. He looks up at:

THE FIRST ICE PICK, STILL EMBEDDED IN THE WALL -

Beginning to work its way out. The tether, fraying.

RETURN ON BOND -

Cautiously, 007 begins to swing a second time. Once. Twice. And on

the third arc, he swings the ice-pick viciously - but MISSES AGAIN.

ANGLE ON THE FIRST ICE PICK, STILL EMBEDDED IN THE WALL -

Now jutting downward, barely holding. The tether is almost totally

frayed through.

RETURN ON BOND -

One last chance. Bond swings. Once. Twice. He reaches back, hurls

himself at the wall, lunging - AND SMASHES THE SECOND PICK INTO THE

ICE... Just as the tether finally snaps on the first one. Still,

he's all but home: He reaches over, grabs the first pick (barely

holding in the ice,) jabs it in, and continues upward.

EXT. THE TOP OF THE WATER FALL -

Exhausted, Bond reaches up, over the edge. He drives a pick down -

through the ice, into the hard, flat, ground beneath the waterbed.

As he pulls himself up, (his full weight on the first ice-pick,) he

smashes a second pick through the ice, into the waterbed, and -

THE ENTIRE ICE FALL GIVES WAY -

Breaking off with a groan, tumbling onto the rocks below.

IN THE WATERBED -

A torrent of water crashes over 007. Fighting the oncoming deluge,

he crawls - on his belly - through the water - 25 feet inland.

NEW ANGLE - (TOP OF THE WATER FALL, INLAND)

Bond stands, walks out of the riverbed. He looks back at the cliff:

BOND'S POV - THE WATER FALL -

On either side of the water, there are two small RADAR DISHES, angled

down, scanning every inch of the area, save for the waterfall itself.

In other words:
This was the only way in.

RETURN ON BOND -

007 shrugs. From his backpack, he takes out TWO CIGAR-SIZED BLACK

CANISTERS, and an ELONGATED BLACK BOX. He presses a button on the

side of the box, and - fwap, fwap, fwap - SNOW SKIS unfold.

He presses buttons on the canisters: TELESCOPIC SKI POLES. Bond

slaps on the skis, and takes off, through the snow.

EXT. SNOW-COVERED FOREST - BOND SKIS THROUGH THE PINES -

EXT. MOUNTAIN CLIFF -

Bond hurtles over the side, going airborne, landing 100 feet below,

amidst boulders. In perfect Olympic form, he skis out, and down.

EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE -

Bond slaloms down, in and out of trees, to avoid detection. At the

bottom, where the snow thins, he comes to:

A ROCK OUTCROPPING.

Hiding behind the rock, Bond takes off his skis, knapsack. He

unpacks (and unfolds) a HIGH TECH AUTOMATIC RIFLE. Puts on a

HEADSET. He creeps up on the rock, and looks out on:

A SECRET MILITARY BASE/AIR STRIP (BOND'S POV)

50 feet down, 200 yards away: 50 MEN are unloading CARGO from a dozen

MILITARY TRANSPORT TRUCKS; there are TWO NORTH KOREAN MiG-29s on the

ground (one partially obscured by a truck,) plus FLATBEDS carrying

HELICOPTERS and SCUD MISSILES.

Near a QUONSET HUT, a TRUCK-MOUNTED RADAR DISH scans the area, with

INFRARED GATLING GUNS mounted on either side.

BOND - AT THE ROCK OUTCROPPING -

Props his rife on the boulder, and peers through the GUN SIGHT.

THROUGH THE TELESCOPIC SIGHT -

He sees a closer (but still wide) telescopic view of men bargaining

over weapons, and forklifts loading/unloading crates of munitions.

THE SAME SCENE ON A VIDEO WALL - MI-6 SITUATION ROOM, LONDON.

BOND'S VOICE

(over a speaker)

Seven, in position.

TANNER'S VOICE

Roger, Seven.

Watching this display is M, TANNER, and a handful of MILITARY BRASS,

including a RUSSIAN GENERAL, BUKHARIN, and BRITISH ADMIRAL ROEBUCK,

an aging sea-lion with no love for M, or MI-6.

M deals with the humorless Admiral by, well, humoring him:

M:

... What were you saying, Admiral?

Something about this 'not being a job

for a wine-sniffing, skirt-chasing

playboy spy?'

ADMIRAL ROEBUCK:

- I'll be sure to acknowledge 007's

'assistance' in my report to the

Prime Minister. But this is, still,

a naval operation.

M:

What do they say in Russia, General

Bukharin?

(asks questions in

flawless Russian)

The general chuckles. Translates:

GENERAL BUKHARIN

'In a joint operation, someone's nose

always gets put out of joint.'

M turns to Admiral Roebuck:

M:

I'm interested in success, Admiral.

Not who gets credit.

(turning to:
)

Mr. Tanner:
What have we got?

Tanner points to the video wall with a RED LASER PEN.

TANNER:

(ironically)

A regular terrorist swap meet. Death

at discount:
Two Chinese Long March

Scuds, a pair of Soviet A-17 attack

helicopters -

BUKHARIN:

(interrupting)

Stolen -

TANNER:

And the crates look like American M-16

assault rifles, Chilean antipersonnel

mines, six French Exocet missiles, and

75 - no maybe a hundred - kilograms of

Czech made C-4 Semtech explosive.

(beat)

Something for everyone. Fun for the

whole family.

M:

(freezing him with a glance)

What about ID's?

TANNER:

(pushes a button on a console)

One to seven:
Deal the face cards.

THE ROCK OUTCROPPING -

Bond adjusts a knob on the scope.

MI-6 SITUATION ROOM -

On the video-screen, the picture zooms to a CLOSE UP of one of the

arms traders. Tanner presses a button, and - almost instantly - the

man's bio and vitals appear on another video screen.

TANNER:

Gustav Meinholtz. Neo-Nazi, former

East German STASI agent. Ties to the

Beider-Meinhoff gang.

(pressing a button)

Aces high, seven. Bid to the east.

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