Tomorrow Never Dies Page #19

INSERT - DASHBOARD - DIGITAL DISPLAY PANEL -

Displayed on separate lines:, "INCOMING CALL." "ORIGIN: (the display

runs through numbers until it hits on) 763-4733." "NAME: (blinking)

UNKNOWN. "STATUS: (blinking) SECURE."

RETURN ON BOND -

Reacting - the information is curious. Bond picks up the phone.

BOND:

Bond.

HARMSWAY'S VOICE

Hello, Mister Bond.

BOND:

(with an edge)

Who is this?

INT. HARMSWAY'S OUTER OFFICE -

Harmsway is perched on a desk. In the background, THROUGH HIS OPEN

OFFICE DOOR, we can see Harmsway's EXECUTIVE SECRETARY serving

someone coffee from a SILVER TRAY - but we can't see who it is.

HARMSWAY:

Elliot Harmsway! I heard you were in

K.L. and thought we might get

together for a chat...

RETURN ON BOND - (INT. BOND'S CAR - MOVING) -

HARMSWAY (Cont'd, O.S.)

We seemed to get off on the wrong

foot back there in Venice.

BOND:

How did you get this number?

INTERCUT AS NECESSARY:

HARMSWAY:

Oh, please, Mr. Bond. We live in the

information age! Information is

currency - and with the right currency,

you can have any piece of information.

(Bond reacts, sourly)

Besides I own the phone company. What

do you say? Twenty minutes?

BOND:

I'm on my way.

Bond hangs up, and drives with renewed determination.

INT. HARMSWAY'S OUTER OFFICE -

Harmsway hangs up; STAMPER is standing nearby. Harmsway throws a

concerned glance at his office, then turns to Stamper:

HARMSWAY:

Let's find out exactly what he knows.

EXT. KUALA LUMPUR - ROADWAY -(BOND CAR) - LATE AFTERNOON -

Bond's car approaches the camera, passes it, and heads for HARMSWAY

TOWERS, looming over Kuala Lumpur in the distance.

EXT. HARMSWAY TOWERS - STREET LEVEL - LATE AFTERNOON -

Bond's car passes the front of the building, and drives down a ramp

into an underground car park.

INT. UNDERGROUND CAR PARK - (HARMSWAY TOWERS) -

Passing NEWSPAPER LOADING DOCKS (with trucks displaying both the

"TOMORROW" and "HNN" logos, and HUM-VEES used by building security,)

Bond pulls into the VALET AREA -

Where a cheerful YOUNG PR WOMAN and VALET wait. Both wear the

colorful BLAZER used by all Harmsway Building service personnel.

BOND:

(from inside the car)

James Bond to see Elliot Harmsway.

PR WOMAN:

Yes. I'm to bring you right up. The

valet will take your car -

BOND:

I'd prefer to park it myself.

(off her questioning look)

Temperamental. Practically has a

mind of its own.

PR WOMAN:

Don't they all?

She points to a spot near the loading docks. Bond drives off.

INT. BOND'S CAR -

Bond backs into the space, thinking about the (inevitable) quick get-

away. He looks through the windshield, surveying the area.

BOND'S POV - UNDERGROUND CAR PARK -

TWO BURLY SECURITY GUARDS (in Harmsway Blazers,) stand behind a

bulletproof security desk. There's a METAL DETECTOR by the door.

BACK TO SCENE (INT. BOND'S CAR) -

Reaching inside his jacket, Bond REMOVES HIS GUN, and HIDES IT in a

compartment under the dashboard.

INT. UNDERGROUND CAR PARK -

The PR WOMAN joins Bond as he locks the car with the REMOTE CONTROL.

PR WOMAN:

Right this way.

Following her through the metal detector, Bond scans the security

devices at the guard's desk: Lots of cameras, sensors, and alarms.

EXT. PRESSROOM OBSERVATION ARCADE -

Bond and the PR Woman step off an escalator onto an open arcade with

GLASS WINDOWS looking down into a mammoth NEWSPAPER PRINTING PLANT.

PR WOMAN:

(moving to a door)

Mr. Harmsway is checking the afternoon

editions. If you'll just follow me -

INT. PRESSROOM BALCONY -

The NOISE FROM THE PRINTING PRESSES is deafening. Bond and the PR

WOMAN walk down a METAL STAIRCASE to the pressroom floor, where -

Harmsway (wearing a printer's smock and newsprint cap,) is joking

with SEVERAL PRESSMEN - a fresh issue of "Tomorrow" outstretched in

his hands.

HARMSWAY:

(spotting Bond, yelling:)

Mr. Bond! Nice to see you.

BOND:

Sir Elliot.

HARMSWAY:

Come. Let's get out of the noise.

(escorting Bond off)

- I'll give you a tour of the

building, then we'll talk.

INT. DRESSING ALCOVE - OFF THE PRESSROOM -

Harmsway is hanging up his smock in the short hallway that leads from

the press room to an elevator. There's a SINK in the room.

HARMSWAY:

It's funny, Mr. Bond. Of all the

things I own, nothing gives me as

much enjoyment as my newspapers.

He moves to the sink to wash his hands. Turns on the faucets:

HARMSWAY (cont'd)

Ironic, isn't it? In the age of TV, I

still can't get the ink out of my veins.

Bond SMILES WRYLY, looking at Harmsway hunched over the sink:

BOND:

Yes... A man with ink in his veins,

and blood on his hands.

Harmsway smiles to himself, acknowledging the jibe... But decides to

ignore it. He turns off the faucet, dries his hands -

HARMSWAY:

We print 31 newspapers here; another

two-hundred-and-seventy at satellite

plants around the world.

He pulls on his £2000 Saville Row suit-jacket.

BOND:

... And how many of those newspapers

carried Paris Harmsway's obituary?

Harmsway turns, and presses the ELEVATOR BUTTON. The doors open,

instantly. HE SMILES:

HARMSWAY:

All of them, Mister Bond...

(motioning inside)

After you?

INT. ELEVATOR -

The doors close. Bond clocks the security camera in the ceiling.

Harmsway is about to take great delight in making Bond squirm:

HARMSWAY:

Before I became involved with Paris,

she was always involved with the most

inappropriate' men...

(beat)

Playboys. Thrill seekers. Middle

aged Peter Pans who only brought out

the worst in her.

BOND:

I see.

HARMSWAY:

I tried to save her. But she remained a

manic depressive: Fits, inappropriate

behavior... Delusions of grandeur.

BOND:

I wonder if it runs in the family.

HARMSWAY:

(bursts out in a laugh)

The only difference between a

psychopath and a genius, Mr. Bond, is

the degree of success.

He looks up at the digital readout, going from 40 to 50.

HARMSWAY:

Still, I do miss her. I only wish

she could have lived to see all this.

BOND:

I can feel your pain.

The doors open:

HARMSWAY:

By the way - what is it that brings

you to Kuala Lumpur, Mister Bond?

BOND:

Sightseeing.

Harmsway motions for Bond to exit. They step out into:

INT. ELEGANT HALLWAY ("ROGUES GALLERY") - LATE AFTERNOON

A short hallway lined with OIL PORTRAITS of Harmsway's ancestors.

Double doors at both ends. (People passing through.) As they walk -

HARMSWAY:

I call this the Rogue's gallery.

BOND:

Yes. I can see:
You've hung the

rest of your relatives.

HARMSWAY:

(pointing to the first portrait)

My third great Uncle - the Earl of

Aberdeen - negotiated the purchase of

Hong Kong from the Chinese.

(moving to)

His son-in-law - George Harmsway -

made the first family fortune,

running opium into Shanghai...

(moving to)

His son, Thomas, who lost it, smoking

the opium...

And my grandfather Henry, who opened the

first telegraph station, and published

the colony's first English newspaper.

(pausing, wistfully)

It was a city of unlimited possibility.

BOND:

So why did you leave?

HARMSWAY:

Because it's a dying city. Since the

Chinese take-over, who knows what can

happen tomorrow?

(moving to the last two portraits)

In any case, this is my father, Charles: A

royal bastard who started the first radio

and television stations. Said I'd never

amount to anything, but...

(passing his own portrait)

I turned it into this

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