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                                  Written by

                                Stephen Gaghan

                      Based on the book "See No Evil" by

                                  Robert Baer

          Exile is not a material thing, it is a spiritual thing,
          all corners of the earth exactly the same. And anywhere
          one can dream is good, providing the place is obscure,
          and the horizon vast.

                         VICTOR HUGO
          If a triangle could speak it would say that God is
          eminently triangular.






                         FADE IN:

          1 EXT. TEHRAN, IRAN - MORNING 1

          The minarets of Shi'a mosques dot the skyline. The sun
          rises through the smog. Keening SIRENS call the faithful.
          A GROUP of bearded, turbanned MEN in white robes carrying
          Korans walk down an empty street.

          As the religious men pass a nondescript metal door, a
          THUMPING SOUND rises...

          The door cracks open and THREE MUSLIM WOMEN in full black
          sack emerge. The door shuts quickly behind them.
          Stay with the THREE MUSLIM WOMEN as they walk away. CLICK
          CLICK CLICK on the cobblestone. We hear GIGGLES.

          One of them reaches down and removes stiletto high-heels,
          which disappear under-the black cloth.


          Down two flights of crowded stairs, there's a bar, dance
          floor, low couches, minimal lighting, wasted PEOPLE.
          Wealthy young IRANIANS sit at a table littered with ice-
          buckets and bottles of Absolut and Johnnie Walker.
          And with them is BOB BAER, 40's, professionally
          nondescript, he could be anything, a salesman, a high-
          school teacher. His face is ever-changing and his eyes
          miss nothing. Bob is the only American in the place and
          still you almost wouldn't notice him.

          ARASH AMIRI, 20's, a confident young Iranian, yells over
          the music. Beside him is his BROTHER.

                         ARASH AMIRI
          Have you ever tried liquid MDMA?
          Bob's forehead is sweating and his hair is sticking to
          it, which he wipes away as he sips his scotch.

          Liquid MDMA? No, I never tried it.

          The music is louder. Arash proudly shouts over it --

                         ARASH AMIRI
          Tehran is the world capital!







                         2 CONTINUED: 2
          Bob doesn't respond. Arash shouts again --

          ABASH AMIRI (CONT'D)
          So, how's the kid?

          Great. He's great.
          Arash just stares. Bob sips his drink.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          Are we gonna do this?
          A girl begins to dance in front of Arash.

                         ABASH AMIRI
          After prayer --

          3 EXT. TEHRAN ROOFTOP - DAY 3

          DISTANT POV down to the street as TWO CARS pull up. Bob
          gets out of one, walks to the rear, opens the trunk --

          4 EXT. TEHRAN STREET - DAY 4

          The trunk SLAMS. Bob carries a worn ATTACHE CASE. The
          Amiris get out of their car, oblivious Shiite party boys.
          Bob walks, happy. Dour MEN at cafe tables miss nothing.

          5 INT. KEBAB SHOP - DAY 5

          Corrugated metal shutters CLOSE, sealing out the light.
          Arash ushers Bob through the gloom toward TWO MILITARY
          CASES. Bob expertly flips one over and opens it.
          Inside: A STINGER MISSILE, neatly disassembled. He finds
          the serial number: 3j16w4921.
          A SMILEY FACE is scratched into the metal of the Stinger.
          Bob tries to activate the Stinger. It's dead. Arash and
          his brother perspire. Bob is perspiring.
          Bob thinks he hears faint MOUTH BREATHING from behind the
          curtain closing off the rear of the shop.
          Bob opens HIS ATTACHE CASE. He removes a pouch. The pouch
          holds a battery. The battery has a serial number.
          Bob finds: 3j16w4921. A perfect match. He removes the
          dead battery and replaces it with the live battery. He
          activates the missile. It works. Everyone is relieved.







                         5 CONTINUED: 5
          Bob moves to THE NEXT MILITARY CASE. He replaces the next
          battery and activates the second missile.
          Arash and his brother share a celebratory glance. Arash
          suddenly takes ONE CASE and drags it through the curtain.
          Bob hears LOW VOICES. He turns questioningly to Arash's
          brother who just stares and smiles like an idiot.
          Then Arash reappears, passing by Bob.

          You said they were both for you.
          Arash tosses an envelope at Bob --

                         ARASH AMIRI
          What do you care?
          Bob glances in the envelope. Behind him, the Amiris are
          picking up the other case. Bob moves toward the curtain.
          IN THE BACK OF THE SHOP Bob's eyes adjust. Several robed
          shapes, ghosts in grey light, carry the case out a door.
          The BARREL OF A GUN touches the side of Bob's head. The
          Bob raises his hands. The barrel slides around to his
          forehead and Bob is staring into the blue eyes of
          MOHAMMED SHEIK AGIZA, 40's, bearded, and calm.

                          BOB (FARSI)
          I was looking for the bathroom.
          MSA seems remarkably serene, then he screams in Arabic.

          BOB (FARSI) (CONT'D)
          You don't speak Farsi, do you, you
          son of a goat?
          MSA screams again, tightening his finger on the trigger,
          then he backs out the door, never losing aim on Bob.

          6 EXT. TEHRAN ROOFTOP - DAY 6

          The HIGH POV down to the street. The Amiris exit the
          kebab shop carrying the REMAINING MILITARY CASE.
          CAMERA ADJUSTS to incorporate SOMEONE'S HAND on the
          rooftop. And next to it, a remote-control TRIGGER DEVICE.






          7 EXT. TEHRAN STREET - DAY 7

          As the Amiris carry the case toward their car, Bob
          appears in the doorway and heads up the street toward us.
          Behind Bob, in the distance, the Amiris get into the car.
          Bob glances up at the roof and NODS ONCE, continuing to
          walk toward camera as --
          The car EXPLODES. Bob walks on as if nothing happened.

          8 INT. TEHRAN CAFE - DAY 8

          Tight on the game of Asteroids. The version from the
          70's. Black and white triangle "spaceship" spinning,
          shooting white dots at drifting "rocks," breaking them
          up, only to create more rocks.
          A hand rapidly hits the firing button. ROBBY BAER, 16,
          concentrates, hits hyper space, smiles, remembers he has
          a retainer, hides his smile.
          He glances over at a cafe table where Bob and MARGARET
          BAER, 40's, frank and guarded in a way that is
          compelling, are having morning coffee. We realize that
          all around them are IRANIANS, that a crowd is massing in
          the street outside, and that Bob clearly doesn't want to
          have this conversation.

          If you go back you get promoted.
          Which could open doors later. For

          Those people back there don't know
          what's going on. They don't wanna

          Have you thought about college?
          Has that made it onto the radar

          And it's not like anybody else
          could roll in here. It's not like
          it's just reading reports.

          I took Pakistan because of the
          hardship pay. The private school

                         TUITION --







                         8 CONTINUED: 8
          Bob's expression, not unkind, but familiar to her, says
          he knows exactly why she took Pakistan.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          I believe in what I'm doing, too.
          They look at each other.

          Well, then here we are.

          Here we are.
          In the street it's turning into a full-blown protest.

          Let's say, somehow, I get a Branch
          or even a Group, then what? Will
          you come? Will you bring Robby?
          Now, Margaret looks away. A STUDENT-LEADER is up on a
          platform brandishing a Coke bottle, SHOUTING in Farsi
          into a bullhorn.

          What's he saying?

          He's against the ban on Coca-Cola.
          He says you have to fix your soul,
          which is not something you can put
          on a soft-drink.
          We see the faces of the protesters, silently staring,
          their mouths covered by black tape.

                         CUT TO:


          At a kitchen table, RILEY, almost 3, puts his hand in a
          bowl of dry Cheerios, squishes it around, then throws a
          handful on the floor.

          BRYAN (O.S.)
          You are a Cheerio dissemination
          device. Yes, you are --
          Pull back to find his father, BRYAN WOODMAN, American,
          late 20's, in a shirt and tie. Blonde and blue-eyed like
          a modern T.E. Lawrence, he's lost in the child, sharing
          his sense of wonder.







                         9 CONTINUED: 9

          JULIE (O.S.)
          Don't let him do that, please.
          His wife, JULIE WOODMAN, 28, sleepy American, very fit in
          sweats, cooks bacon at an older range. They have the
          worst house in the best neighborhood and have yet to
          properly furnish it.

          . An evolutionarily perfect
          machine for the spreading of
          imported Cheerios to all corners
          of the kitchen.
          The toddler smiles at him. Julie puts four plates down.
          They both notice the empty place setting. Just then, a
          golden boy, MAX, 6, enters the kitchen.

          Mommy, I want bacon.

          You have bacon.
          Max sits at the table.

          I want real bacon.

          You have real bacon, only it's
          made from soy beans.
          Max looks at his plate.

          I want pig bacon.

          10 EXT. GENEVA WATERFRONT - DAY 10

          Bryan drives a BMW wagon along Lake Geneva, the fountain
          spouting into the sky. A kite is wedged upside down in
          the foot well.

          On every building signs advertise watch companies.

          11 INT. MINI TV STUDIO - DAY 11

          A brightly-lit Bryan listens to an ear-piece in front of
          a Colombe Suisse de Banque banner.







                         11 CONTINUED: 11

          Our position is that there is at
          least twelve dollars of
          instability premium in the market.
          Protests in Iran. Threat of more
          strikes in Venezuela. The Turks
          still making noise about Russian
          crude through the Bosphorus.

                         (LISTENS AGAIN)
          You're welcome, Rebecca.


          Across the small trading floor, Bryan is sealed off in a
          mini TV studio, then the lights switch off and Bryan
          leaves the booth --
          TIGHTER ON Bryan as he walks past TRADERS staring into
          computers while talking into phones --

          TRADER (O.S.)
          Long and strong on demand numbers,
          protests in Iran and, what else is
          new, the Vens are threatening
          strike. Place is en fuego --

          TRADER #2 (O.S.)
          People want it warmer, colder,
          they leave their TV's on when they
          drive to the video store. Twelve
          bucks of premium --
          VINCENT, 30's, depressed, handsome French trader in a
          beautiful suit, working two phones, sees Bryan --


                         HEY --
          Bryan waves him off, keeps walking.

                         VINCENT (CONT'D)

                         (INTO PHONE)
          Market's on its way up. Just
          thought you should know.

                         (TAKES CALL)
          Done. Yep. Bring him in now. Tell
          him he's done and bring him in.
          (yelling to Bryan)
          Woodman, I need you --
          Vincent sees Bryan disappear into his office, door
          shutting behind him. A small sign reads: RESEARCH.






          13 INT. BRYAN'S OFFICE - DAY 13

          Soundproofed office. Peaceful. Diplomas. Three TVs play:
          CNN; a black and white image of a pinched OLD MAN; army
          tanks rolling through Iraq in night vision. Bryan is on
          the phone. We hear a THREE YEAR-OLD VOICE --

          RILEY (OVER PHONE)
          Hello, Daddy. I'm playing. That's
          my job. Playing.
          ON BRYAN'S DESK, mounds of research, books, reports,
          numbers. In the phone Bryan can hear Julie laughing.

          BRYAN (INTO PHONE)
          That's a very good job to have.

          JULIE (OVER PHONE)
          Tell Daddy you love him.
          An abrupt three year-old HANG-UP. Bryan looks up and sees

          The Emir's summer party. In
          Marbella. Any interest?

          (re: his piled desk)
          I can't. I've got all this --

          I'm not really asking.

          It's Max's birthday. We've got
          stuff all weekend.
          Vincent sticks his head in the door --

          September T-I ticked up fifteen
          cents and is rebounding. Where's
          the next resistance level?

          Read my report --

          (noticing the invite)
          The Emir's party; I'll take that.
          Vincent tries to snatch the invite.







                         13 CONTINUED: 13

          Through much finagling we have an
          audience with the Emir. He wrote
          the strategy and he's not slick.

                         (TO BRYAN)
          In fact, take your children with
          you - a birthday weekend for Max.
          The towelheads love children.
          ON TV: JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER in a safari hat leads a group
          in BAPTIST HYMNS on a croquet lawn while the tanks roll
          through Baghdad.

                         CUT TO:

          14 EXT. TUNDRA - KAZAKHSTAN - DAY 14

          Tundra seen from the air in the ex-Soviet republic.
          A giant ditch cuts the landscape. In the giant ditch is a
          giant pipe leading to a ramshackle oil "facility" of
          shipping containers scattered around a derrick.


           A herd of goats scamper out of the way of agiant
          BULLDOZER with wheels as big as a house.

          Marching music comes from a tin speaker on a wooden pole.
          Animal pieces roast on a grill made from oil drums.
          Oilmen cluster around makeshift wooden tables. BENNETT
          HOLIDAY, 35, African-American, a clean-cut lawyer, maybe
          horn rims, starting to grey, sits at a table with RUSSIAN
          OIL EXECS. The LEADER eats ribs with tiny teeth.

          Are you a director or executive of
          this company?
          The leader gnaws on a bone. Bennett points down to a mess
          of contracts and legal papers in front of him.

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          Is this your fax number?
          The leader speaks rapidly in RUSSIAN. Bennett is baffled.
          Finally, an UNDERLING translates.

          He says, we eat every part of the







                         16 CONTINUED: 16

          Ask him if he's been receiving
          faxes'at this number? Ask him if
          this is his phone number?
          (to the leader)
          Is this a number to reach you?
          Again, the leader speaks in rapid Russian.

          He says, the weather in Siberia is
          very cold!

          I'm asking you about this payment.
          Who is this person on the account?
          Bennett notices a Russian, OSKAR WERNER-TYPE, wearing
          THICK-FRAMED GLASSES, smoking and staring at him. Another
          RUSSIAN glances at the paperwork.

          Bank is no more.

          I know bank is no more. I'm trying
          to find out where the assets went.
          The Russians nod to the MUSIC coming from the poles. Now
          the leader speaks in surprisingly good English.

          This is marching music composed
          for Stalin. Inspiring for workers.
          The leader smiles at Bennett. It's a scary smile. The
          THICK-FRAMED GLASSES GUY is still staring.

                         LEADER (CONT'D)
          The investment dollar that matters
          is one that has army behind it. We
          are very good friend of United
          States. Who you want arguing for
          you in The Hague? Argentina?
          The leader spreads his arms expansively to take in the
          miles of empty tundra around them.

                         LEADER (CONT'D)

          From right here we light and heat
          Europe for next fifty years.
          Killeen and Kazakhstan - partners






                         16 CONTINUED: (2)
           A distant shot of the small cluster of humanity in the
           vast steppe, marching MUSIC drifting across it.

                          CUT TO:


           TOMMY (O.S.)
          You're not taking this seriously.
          You don't think this is a problem.
          One wall is a map of the world except where there should
          be jagged country boundaries are perfectly straight
          resource lines. It's color coded: the world divided into
          energy corporations: EXXON/MOBIL, BRITISH PETROLEUM,


          TOMMY (O.S.) (CONT'D)
          A U.S. Attorney is looking into
          your relationships in Kazakhstan
          and the U.S. Government is holding
          up approval of our merger...
          At one end of a long table in a corporate boardroom
          President TOMMY BARTON, 50's, a hatchet-man of Zen-like
          corporate efficiency, heads a group of EXECUTIVES. A
          small placard labels this faction - CONNEX.


                         TOMMY (CONT'D)
          The Board thinks it's a problem.
          Mr. Janus certainly thinks it's a

                         PROBLEM --
          JAMES "JIMMY" POPE, 50's, a powerful presence leavened by
          Connecticut minor chords, speaks from the far end where
          an opposing faction is labeled: KILLEEN.

          Is the Caspian a lake or a sea,

          That's an important legal point --

          Oh give me another lecture on
          subsurface rights, Thomas.
          Jimmy stands. He is imposing in a Lyndon Johnson visits
          Congress sort of way.







                         17 CONTINUED: 17

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          If the Caspian is a sea, you can
          make deals with the Stans, but if
          it's a lake, then the rights are
          shared equally by all countries,
          including Iran. And by an act of
          our Congress it is illegal to
          trade with Iran, so we can't be in
          business with any of those
          countries, even though they have
          oil and we sell it. This is our
          business, Tommy, selling oil, not
          finding it. Anyone can find it.
          It's everywhere.
          Jimmy motions out the window --

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          A monkey can stick a straw in the
          ground, slurp it out and boil it,
          right, Thomas? But you wanna make
          it commercial, you wanna turn it
          into a commodity, then you gotta
          be able to move it and to move it,
          you gotta have relationships.

          Take The Gulf --

          That's enough, Jimmy.

          No, I want to talk about The Gulf
          and how a goddamn E-mir, what is
          an E-mir anyway --

          King. It's a king --

          How some podunk King tossed you
          out on your ass.
          Jimmy pulls out a sharpie, walks to the Resource Map and
          defaces it, drawing the outline of an actual country,
          Kazakhstan, in Central Asia, home of the Tengiz Field.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          Every company in the world wanted
          into Kazakhstan, into the Tengiz,
          but Killeen got it and then Connex
          wanted Killeen and here we are. I
          made investments. Investments that
          will bear fruit for this company.








                         17 CONTINUED: ( 2) 17

                          JIMMY (CONT'D)
          Hell, Tommy, we've all got the
          Foreign Corrupt Practices Act
          committed to memory. I've got a
          little copy taped to the wall of
          my head... Up here.

          Thank you, Jimmy. You know how
          much we appreciate hearing your
          point of view; however, Mr. Janus
          and I have asked Connex's
          Washington counsel, Sydney Hewitt,
          to come down here and talk about
          strategy for the next thirty days.
          The eyes all shift to SYDNEY HEWITT,. 60's, Alabama smooth
          accent and ever-so-certain.

          In a way I feel like Switzerland
          and I'd like to remind everyone in
          this room that they've signed
          confidentiality agreements.
          Polite LAUGHTER.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          And allow me to introduce my
          associate, Bennett Holiday, who
          will be, how should I put it,
          building consensus day to day.
          Bennett, the only African-American in the room, takes in
          the faces now all staring at him. All the white faces.

          18 INT. PLANE - DAY 18

          Business Class cabin. Bennett looks out the window. His
          POV of clouds and farmland and the Mississippi River.
          Sydney emerges from First with a scotch and sits.

          You just visited what someday soon
          could be the most profitable
          corporation in America.

          Provided the government approves
          the merger --

          Provided we don't start running
          cars on water. Provided there's
          still chaos in the Middle-East.








                         18 CONTINUED: 18

                          SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          This ain't the SEC anymore, son,
          and maybe you got a couple scalps
          on your belt from your time over
          there - Enron, World Com - but now
          the job is find the problem, fix
          the problem. And if you don't find
          a problem, then there is no
          Bennett notices that Sydney wears a Mickey Mouse watch.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          And WHEN the government approves
          this merger it's gonna buy a lot
          of houses out on the Vineyard,
          maybe even yours, so, of course,
          it's delicate all around. Who's
          this U.S. Attorney, Donald Farish
          the 3rd? What's his agenda? Who's
          behind him? Is it a political
          force? Another corporation? Is he
          a glory boy making a name?

          I know him. He taught a class of
          mine at Georgetown Law.
          Sydney knew this, of course. Sydney looks Bennett over,
          then he chuckles, the effect of which is unsettling.

          Well, there you go, he taught a
          class of yours at Georgetown Law.
          Mr. .Whiting did say to me, I have
          a feeling about this young man. He
          said, he can position himself.
          Sydney stands.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          Hold these guys in a circle. Ask
          the careful questions. I don't
          need to tell you this is a hell of
          an opportunity for you to catch
          those peers who have spent, how
          should I put it, less time on the
          government dole.

          And get rid of that fancy watch,
          it makes you look like a Jew.
          Sydney disappears back up into first class, carefully
          pulling the curtain in place behind him.

                         CUT TO:







           Bright sunlight beside the Gulf. 200 foot tall loading
           tanks with portraits of the Emir. This facility is under
           construction by Pakistani and Filipino LABORERS.
           ANGLE ON: SALEEM AHMED KHAN, 40, heavy set, with glasses,
           and his son, WASIM, 17, tall, bright, wearing electric
          blue jumpsuits while painting a brown handrail green.
          A VAN stops beside their team and someone YELLS in Urdu.

          20 INT. VAN - DAY 20

          They drive with OTHER WORKERS across the refinery.

          21 EXT. REFINERY - DAY 21

          A huge sign in mandarin declares the project funded by
          CHINA GAS AND ELECTRIC - the Chinese oil conglomerate.

          Chinese ENGINEERS in white have rounded up a group of
          Pakistanis who stand together sweating in the extreme
          heat, an image not much changed since Colonialism.

          Your services are no longer needed
          here at the China Gas and Electric
          A PAKISTANI translates into Urdu for the-group. Find
          Saleem and Wasim in the crowd --

          SALEEM (IN URDU)
          What did they say? I can't hear.

          They're letting us go.

          The whole group?

          The whole group.
          In the distance, the engineer is droning on.







                         21 CONTINUED: 21

          We know you have worked hard and
          wish to thank you for that hard
          work with a small cash bonus which
          you may collect on your way out of
          the facility.

          What did he say? I can't hear. I
          can't hear.

          He's telling us to scram.

          Scram? What do you mean, scram?
          ANGLE ON: The engineer pointing toward the exit of the
          facility. He turns to another ENGINEER nearby.

                         CHINESE ENGINEER

          Look at them standing there. Like
          blue cows. Shit. Get them moving.


          Wasim and Saleem cross the desert near the LNG facility.

          The Chinese are smart people, but
          such bad drivers. They should not
          be allowed even to wash cars.
          Wasim doesn't say anything. They walk in silence. Then --

                         SALEEM (CONT'D)
          When I was your age, in Pakistan,
          there was always in the distance--

          Snow covered mountains.

          That's right. Three hours away,
          but right there, white across the
          sky, like you could reach out and
          touch them. Snow covered
          Ahead is transient worker housing. Wasim takes in
          plywood fencing surrounding identical huts.







                         22 CONTINUED: 22

                         SALEEM (CONT'D)
          As soon as we can, we'll get a
          real house and bring your mother
          here. I promise.
          Wasim just looks at his dad who puts his arm around him.
          The refinery and power lines shimmer behind them.


          Sterile, white trailers in neat rows with laundry hanging
          out of windows. MEN wash at a communal shower.
          Wasim begins stripping off his grimy uniform. Saleem
          shouts to a few MEN batting a cricket ball around.


          Massive POWER LINES drape from steel pyramid to steel
          pyramid. A GROUP of TEENAGERS, including Wasim and
          FAROOQ, 16, a self-styled leader, drink home-fermented
          alcohol from a Styrofoam cup. They wear jeans, T-shirts,
          caps. Ragged, unbathed, they're wasted.
          Farooq takes a gulp, makes a face, swallows, SHOUTS --

          Ow, ow, ow, ahhh --
          He throws up. The KIDS laugh. He comes up composed --

                         FAROOQ (CONT'D)
          An announcement. An announcement.
          If man is made in God's image,
          then God is deeply messed up.
          Farooq shoves the cup at Wasim. He tries to push it away.

                         FAROOQ (CONT'D)
          You afraid? Afraid of the buzz?

          I'm afraid of your breath.
          Wasim points at a silent kid hanging back from the group.

                         WASIM (CONT'D)
          Hakim hasn't had any. And Hakim
          wears jewelry.

          He thinks that little bracelet's
          gonna get him girls.







                         24 CONTINUED: 24
          They start chanting HAKIM, HAKIM, HAKIM in encouragement.
          Hakim, sphynx-like, just looks at them.

          (to another kid)
          What's wrong with your brother,
          Hakim looks to his brother, then lifts up his shirt.
          There is a recent scar where a kidney would be.

          You can drink with one. You don't
          need two.


          HAKIM, HAKIM, HAKIM.
          Hakim isn't sure.


                         (TO FAROOQ)
          I want to talk to your uncle about


          HAKIM, HAKIM, HAKIM.

          Farooq. You have to introduce me.

          There isn't any work. Quit
          pestering me. Hakim, Hakim --
          Finally, Hakim sips and holds his side. The boys' cheers
          are thin and vulnerable in the immense desert.
          In the distance a luxury car is parked. And U.S. Military
           officers snap a picture - "Native Boys in Desert."

          25 EXT. BELTWAY - DAY 25

          A line of commuter traffic from inside a car. Bob's eyes
          appear in the rearview. He sits in traffic.

          FRANKS (V.0.)
          Bob's freaking out about this
          other missile. Where's the
          missile? Who has the missile? He
          wrote a memo.

                         CUT TO:







          The DIVISION CHIEF, a woman in her 40's, patrician and
          smooth, stares out of the glass box office toward the
          trees. FRED FRANKS, 30's, a saltine dipped in milk,

                         CONTINUES --

          .I just finished convincing the.
          Brits and French Intel we had
          nothing to do with the Amiri job.
          Now what do we say: remember that
          thing we had nothing to do with,
          well, there's something missing.
          The Division Chief finishes listening patiently.

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Okay, here's something. Put him up
          for a promotion. Bob's a good guy.
          He saved our ass in Beirut in '85.


          Great. Terry likes him. We'll get
          him an audition downtown.

                         CUT TO:

          27 EXT. BELTWAY - DAY 27

           DIVISION CHIEF (V.0.)
          You'll get him an audition

                         DOWNTOWN --
          Bob exits into downtown D.C, the traffic lightening. He
          goes through a tunnel.

                         CUT TO:


          The idea of promoting Bob gains traction --

          Bob's a hero. They'll give him
          something good. He is an Iran

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Fred, Bob's never had a desk job,
          never done nine-to-five. Can he
          show up to work everyday? Can he
          stay on message?







                         28 CONTINUED: 28

          Yes, absolutely. I'll prep him.

                         CUT TO:


          Bob waits in a hard back chair. It's a spare, functional,
          highly polished place. Marines like statues stand guard.
          VOICES come from a partially open door across the hall.

          MARILYN (V.0.)
          Imagine gasoline ten dollars a
          gallon at the pump. Or heating oil
          that costs twenty-five hundred a
          month for a two-bedroom apartment.
          If oil goes to a hundred a barrel,
          the U.S. turns into a third-world
          country. That is a fact.

          TERRY GEORGE (V.0.)
          Do you have any analysis to back
          up that fact?


          In the next fifteen years, The
          North Sea and Alaska dry up. Two
          million barrels a day to the U.S.
          gone. That is a known fact.


          The Deputies Meeting. A small room with recessed lighting
          filled with the rung below the top-tier of Washington
          bureaucracy. Navy STENO GUYS record the conversation.

                         TERRY GEORGE
          I need data supporting known
          facts. Because what I know is that
          in the entire region when we even
          whisper our support, those people
          are delegitimized.
          TERRY GEORGE, 40's, Deputy CIA Chief, quite a good guy to
          those in power, speaks to a DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN,
          60's. Through the partially open door, one third of Bob
          is visible.

                         DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN
          Iraq had no established ethnic








                         30 CONTINUED: 30

          It's like trying to organize
          Louisiana. Iran, on the other
          hand, is Persian --
          The Deputy National Security Advisor, MARILYN RICHARDS,
          40's, sculpted hair, with the soul of a seventy year-old
          white, Republican male, is in charge --

          There has been some good news
          concerning Iran lately. Right,

                          TERRY GEORGE
          For Iran, yes --

          The President is very interested
          in Iran, Terry.
          Marilyn takes in the presence of the DISTINGUISHED
          GENTLEMEN sitting near her. Terry slides a file across
          the table to her.

                         TERRY GEORGE
          I know that, Marilyn. In fact, we
          just pulled one of our officers
          out and I took the initiative to
          ask him to come down here. He
          infiltrated Hezbollah in Beirut in
          the eighties, won himself some
          nice medals. We're thinking about
          giving him a station.

          Beirut in the eighties, is that a
          resume builder?
          Polite chuckles follow Terry George to the doorway.


           Terry George appears, crooks a finger. As Bob passes --

                          TERRY GEORGE
           Don't chomp down on any bait.
           He looms over Bob, pointedly taps Bob's files --

           TERRY GEORGE (CONT'D)
          We're fine. Iran is fine. Fine.


          Bob sweats slightly as he plows on, reading from notes.







                         32 CONTINUED: 32

          And our analysis seems to be
          on the mark... And we're getting
          good satellite coverage.
          Bob is clearly working from a script. Terry George is
          pleased and gives Bob the slightest of approving nods.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          And we're reprogramming resources
          into Iran. Our next review will
          show that ---

          Thank you for coming over, Mr.
          Baer. Welcome back and forgive me
          if I wade right in, but forgetting
          for a second your bureaucratic
          checklist, I'm trying to get
          undigested information, so if you
          could give me a reading of the
          temperature over there?
          Bob glances at Terry. Exasperated, Marilyn continues.

                         MARILYN (CONT'D)
          India is now our ally. Russia is
          our ally. Even China will be an
          ally. Everybody between Morocco
          and Pakistan is the problem.
          Failed states and failed
          economies, but Iran is a natural
          cultural ally of the U.S. The
          Persians do not want to roll back
          the clock to the 8th century. I
          see students marching in the
          streets. I hear Khatami making the
          right sounds. And what I'd like to
          know is if we keep embargoing them
          on energy, then someday soon are
          we going to get a nice, secular,
          pro-Western, pro-business
          The steno guys type away. A long beat on Bob.

          It's possible. It's complicated.

          Of course it is, Mr. Baer. Thank
          you for your time.
          Bob looks to Terry who nods. Bob starts to leave.







                         32 CONTINUED: ( 2) 32

                         MARILYN (CONT'D)
          (sotto, to the room)
          Intelligence is the misnomer of
          the century.
          Bob stops. He can't help himself --

          They let young people march in the
          street and then the next day shut
          down fifty newspapers. They have a
          few satellite dishes up on roofs,
          let 'em have My Two Dads, but that
          doesn't mean the Ayatollahs have
          relinquished one iota of control
          over that nation.
          The steno guys hands are frozen.

                         DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN
          Mr. Baer, the reform movement in
          Iran is one of the President's
          great hopes for the region and
          crucial to the petroleum security
          of the United States.

                         TERRY GEORGE

                         (A WARNING)
          These gentlemen are with the CLI.
          Bob has no idea what this is or whether he should answer.

                         DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN
          The Committee for the Liberation
          of Iran, Mr. Baer.

          We've had Iran in embargo for
          almost thirty years, we backed
          their neighbor, a neighbor we
          invaded twice, in a ten year war
          against them, we're hanging on by
          a thread with a massive occupation
          force, so I got news for you...
          Thomas Jefferson just ain't that
          popular over there right now.
          Silence except for the steno guys clicking away, then
          complete silence. Terry George stares at Bob a long beat.

                         TERRY GEORGE
          That will be all, Mr. Baer.

                         CUT TO:







          Bennett exits a cab, walks up the steps with an overnight
          bag. A MAN, 60's, tough and well-preserved, in a dark
          suit and tie, waits on the stoop with a folded paper.

          DANNY DALTON (V.0.)
          I hear phrases thrown around like
          "the corrupting influence of
          money" or "the evil influence of
          dollars in politics," when more
          money was spent on the syndication
          rights to Seinfeld than on the
          whole of the last presidential
          Bennett just walks past him to open the door.


          A nice three bedroom that is part of the quiet
          gentrification movement not yet reflected in the streets.
          Cable news plays silently in the living room. There's a
          goldfish in a small aquarium.
          Through a door, Bennett and the man are in the kitchen.

          35 INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS 35

          A SMALL TV: plays C-Span testimony on Campaign Finance
          Reform. DANNY DALTON, 40's, an "oilman," testifies.

                         DANNY DALTON
          Last election cycle I spent three
          hundred thousand. I got pictures
          of myself with the President that
          I use all over the world. People
          don't know Danny Dalton, but they
          know the President of the United
          States and they see that I know
          the President of the United
          Bennett has showered and changed. He makes coffee. The
          man sits at a dinette. He lights a cigarette.

          I'm not making this coffee for
          you. I'm making it for me. You I'm
          making oatmeal and then you sleep.

                         BENNETT SENIOR
          You look like shit.







                         35 CONTINUED: 35
          Bennett just stares for a moment. Bennett takes the
          oatmeal off the stove, sets a bowl in front of the man
          whose fingernails are black, whose dark suit is filthy.

          Are you working?

                         BENNETT SENIOR
          I had a little trouble at work.
          Bennett grabs his travel coffee and starts away --

          There's some beer in the fridge
          for after you wake up, so you
          don't die on my floor of the DT's.
          And no smoking in my house.
          Bennett leaves the kitchen. The man yells after him.

                         BENNETT SENIOR
          I don't need your goddamn
          The front door SLAMS. The man glances up at a photo of
          Bennett Jr. at his Howard University graduation. And next
          to it, the man, BENNETT SR., graduating 25 years earlier.
          ON TV: old, white senators listening judiciously.

          DANNY DALTON (ON TV)
          In our country we don't stuff
          dollars into ballot boxes. What we
          do is turn money into votes and
          what turns money into votes is
          free speech - the ability of a
          candidate to get his message out -
          and that takes money, real money,
          meaning, not so loosely
          translated: MONEY IS SPEECH! And
          last time I checked, speech in the
          USA is protected. You can't limit
          my advocacy just because it works.
          I have a sovereign, inalienable
          right to petition my government.
          Tilt up to find Bennett Senior, part of a six pack
          dangling from two fingers, staring at a wall covered with
          an intricate MATRIX of KILLEEN OIL's limited partnerships
          and strategic alliances all over the world.







                         35 CONTINUED: (2) 35

          The money I gave the President is
          the best investment I have ever
          made in my business. Next election
          cycle I plan to double it.

          And why is it some dirty little
          secret that it's in America's
          interest to do business overseas?
          Bennett Sr. stares up at the wall. He pops a beer.

                         CUT TO:

          36 EXT. EMIR'S ESTATE - MARBELLA - DAY 36

          Bryan and Julie and the kids arrive at the manicured
          entrance of a vast, impressive estate, their rental wagon
          anomalous among Bentleys and Rolls.
          An Arab valet opens Julie's door. The kids are excited.

          37 EXT. GARDEN - DAY 37

          A geometric sculpture garden. Giacomettis and Henry
          Moores. A TV monitor plays video of gardens and flowers.
          GUESTS cluster together. You could almost tag labels on
          them: arms dealer, Ambassador, Minister of Trees.
          Bryan and Julie and the kids wander into the party.

          .I'm probably the tenth guy this
          month to pitch something like
          this. It's like the Godfather.
          Emir, I come to you on this
          special day. Vincent is riding
          motorcycles through Cambodia,
          through land-mines. Some charity

          That's guilt not charity. He's
          Catholic and can't view himself as
          a shallow model f.u.c.k.e.r, which
          he is. And when war breaks out in
          some energy producing country,
          he's the first one into work.
          Bryan looks at her.

                         JULIE (CONT'D)
          Honey... you're a man who supports
          his family, not a boy.







                         37 CONTINUED: 37

          I thought you like him. Vincent.

          I do, honey. For you, I like him
          very much.
          She takes his hand as they walk.

          VOICE (O.S.)
          Please, attention please, your
          host, his majesty, the Emir...
          ON A TV MONITOR: the Emir, HAMAD AL-SUBAAI, 60's,
          bearded, overweight, sitting in front of greenery, his
          TWO SONS behind him, addresses his party guests.

          EMIR (ON TV)
          It is my pleasure to personally
          welcome each of you to the Casa De
          Las Palmas, our oasis of palms in
          the south of Spain.

          38 INT. EMIR'S PRIVATE OFFICE - DAY 38

          The EMIR, his two sons, PRINCE MESHAL, late 20's, weak-
          chinned, effeminate, with longish hair, and PRINCE NASIR,
          30's, handsome, with large expressive eyes, close-cropped
          hair, powerful and serious, are across a table from

          The Emir's PRERECORDED SPEECH drones on --

          EMIR (ON TV)
          And symbolic of the affection of
          my people for each of you. At nine
          o'clock, we will have wonderful
          music from the London
          Philharmonic. Please eat and
          socialize and enjoy.
          The Emir ignores himself on TV and turns to business. He
          recently had a stroke and was filmed from his good side.

                         EMIR (CONT'D)
          (a slight slurring)
          I am happy to welcome the Chinese
          to my country and optimistic you
          will not be nearly as greedy as
          the Americans.
          Assiduous nods from the CHINESE oil executives as the
          King's young Japanese SECRETARY slides contracts across.






          39 EXT. POOL PAVILION - DAY 39

          Bryan and Julie watch Max tentatively approach the pool.
          Nearby, Riley has introduced himself to an Arab family.

          Arabs are very family oriented, as
          a people. Is that racist?
          Max, a book-oriented, rather than water-oriented, child
          is afraid to jump in.


          Not if what you're saying is
          A bigger BOY fakes like he might push him in. Bryan
          starts to his feet --

          Don't. Let him work this out. It's
          important for his autonomy.
          Max finds his courage, jumps, and disappears beneath the
          surface, then bobs up happily. Julie smiles.

          Hedge strategies are tough for
          these guys. Oil goes up the people
          wonder why those extra billions
          aren't in the treasury. Prices go
          down, no one's thanking them for
          saving a few bucks.
          Julie looks at her husband to determine whether he's
          testing his "pitch" or in need of encouragement.

          Make a game of it. Pretend they're
          six year-olds and you have to get
          them to eat carrots and all they
          want is dessert. Make it about
          good parenting.


          The house is a Genius-Home. One of
          my sons had it wired by experts
          from the United States.







                         40 CONTINUED: 40
          The Emir sort of wilts, fading out. Prince Meshal foists
          a remote control on his father. The other son, Prince
          Nasir observes his father and brother.
          The Emir rouses. He presses a few buttons. The monitors
          show the estate: lawn; squash court; guard house.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          ON TV: the image of a rear guard house. Suddenly, the
          gate slides back, stops, slides the other way.

          Your Highness, that is incredible.
          (to Prince Nasir)
          Prince Nasir, isn't that amazing?

                         PRINCE NASIR

          The Emir presses the remote. ON TV: seven swimming pools.
          Meshal proudly shares the moment with his father.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          Oh, look, it's getting dark,
          better turn on the lights --
          ON SIX OF SEVEN MONITORS: pool lights turn on, shimmering
          turquoise. One pool remains dark.
          The Emir notices the dark pool. He presses the device.
          ON THE MONITOR: The lights go off. He presses again. Six
          pools light up, but one is still dark.
          The Emir ignores his son and speaks for the room.

          Send a fool on a fool's errand.
          Meshal frantically tries to make the pool light come on.


          41 EXT. POOL SIDE - DUSK 41

          CHILDREN SCREAM, shouting, playing tag in the crepuscular
          light beside the dark pool. Max is among the children.






          42 EXT. UNDER WATER - DARK POOL - DUSK 42

          The SOUND of ELECTRICITY. We push toward a darkened pool
          light. The cover is cracked and the light is filled with
          water. Closer. Blue light arcs inside the cover. The


          Pictures of the Emir with Nixon, Carter, Ronald Reagan,
          Poppy Bush, Clinton, Bush II.
          TWO GULF BUSINESSMEN, reps of the Emir, appear and
          address Bryan who is waiting.

                         GULF BUSINESSMAN
          We regret that His Highness will
          be unable to see you. However, we
          are authorized to hear your
          proposition on his behalf.

          They nod. Bryan looks around. It's awkward.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Well, okay... The real worry
          facing you guys is another year of
          record pricing. There are no more
          elephant fields. Not even in
          Natural Gas. As structural
          alternatives are more fully
          realized you'll need a new
          strategy to maximize every penny
          from your existing resources,
          particularly in a climate of
          falling prices.
          One businessman turns to the other --

          There are two kinds of people in
          the world: those who control
          subsurface mineral rights and
          those who want to steal from them.
          Bryan didn't understand a word.

          44 EXT. POOL - DUSK 44

          The kids are organizing a game of "shark and minnows." An
          OLDER KID explains to Max --







                         44 CONTINUED: 44

                         OLDER KID
          You're the shark and you try to
          tag us as we swim across.
          Max is uncertain, eyeing the dark water. From somewhere
          distant the LONDON PHILHARMONIC begins to play.

          OLDER KID (CONT'D)
          You jump in and count one, two,
          three, then we all try to get to
          the other side.
          Max stares at the dark water. It's not inviting. Finally,
          he jumps.
          He hits the water and goes rigid, almost skittering
          across the surface, flopping uncontrollably.

          45 EXT. ESTATE LAWN - NIGHT 45

          Bryan walks back across the lawn when SCREAMS come from
          the pool area ahead. Bryan hurries, then runs.

          46 EXT. POOL - NIGHT 46

          The VOLTAGE is audible as Max rolls onto his back,
          floating lifelessly. SECURITY prevent people from diving
          in. A bystander yells --

          Cut the power! Cut the power!
          Bryan enters the area. He sees Julie being restrained.
          And a body in the water.
          As the estate goes dark, Bryan dives and holds Max,
          wading to the side with the lifeless body.

                         CUT TO:

          47 EXT. DESOLATE OIL FIELD - DAY 47

          A DONKEY TRAIN passes a DERRICK under a gathering sky. On
          the back of ONE DONKEY the STINGER CRATE bounces along.
          The donkeys move through the Antaean field as lightning
          cuts the distant clouds.

                         CUT TO:







          Freight boats and water taxis plow up and down a river,
          back and forth, back and forth, as Wasim enters along a
          wall in the foreground. He wears his best clothes and
          looks freshly scrubbed as he picks his way along.
          He ducks down an alley, stops. Nervous, he catches his
          reflection in a shard of glass of a boarded-up window.


          Abu Khalifa, thank you for this
          opportunity. I am a hard worker. I
          will not let you down.


          A scraggly warehouse, the most basic of operations.
          WORKERS carry goods in and out.
          Wasim walks with ABU KHALIFA, 42, a gruff foreman.

          Two of my wife's kids got deported
          for not having work.


                         (HALTING ARABIC)
          You don't have to pay me. Let me
          show you how hard I work. And then
          decide whether to pay.
          For a moment it seems like this offer may win the day.

                         ABU KHALIFA
          I'm sorry. I already have a long
          list for that, too.

                         (GRUFF AGAIN)
          And if you want to work in this
          country, learn how to speak the
          Wasim tries and fails to hide his disappointment.

                         CUT TO€

          50 EXT. CEMETERY - DAY 50

          A mound of dirt under a blanket. A small mound. An
          Episcopal Minister saying something soundlessly.
          The mourners are Bryan and Julie's age which means they
          have small children. Mourners holding children.







                         50 CONTINUED: 50
          Bryan holds Riley and Julie stands beside them. Julie is
          weeping. she notices Bryan is completely stone-faced.
          Julie watches two BOYS chase each other through the
          crowd, playing tag, stifling their laughter.

                         CUT TO:


          Tight on JOHNNY and PONYBOY just before they run to catch
          the boxcar in THE OUTSIDERS.

          BOY (O.S.)
          Why are they running after him?

          WASIM (O.S.)
          Maybe he has a knife or committed
          a crime or something.
          Wasim, Farooq, other men and boys watch a small TV in a
          cheap trailer, housing for immigrant labor.

          wasim sits with Farooq watching the film. YUNUS, 6,
          watches Wasim, his older brother, with reverence.

          They gave us french fries at the
          Wasim's father, Saleem, enters with a few groceries.

          Papa, close the door.

                         ANOTHER FRIEND
          His sister has a thing for you.

          His sister has a big ass.

                         (TO FAROOQ)
          Of course, at the Madrassa you
          don't have to worry about that.

          And lamb. We got skewers of lamb.

          I like lamb.
          The children's faces are lit by the TV'S glowing light.






                         52 (OMIT) 52

          53 EXT. GOVERNMENT PLAZA - DAY 53

          Against a wall, YOUNG MEN are frisked by police who tap
          their legs apart with batons. Above them a watchful
          portrait of the Emir, in epic pose, astride a stallion.
          A line of Pakistani and Filipino MEN winds out of a
          building. People are paranoid. No jokes. Eyes darting.
          As more MEN arrive, POLICE in riot gear watch them,
          shouting in Arabic into a bullhorn.
          Yunus watches Wasim and Saleem. He mimics how his brother
          stands. An OLD MAN tries to talk to them.

                         OLD MAN
          Hot today. Can't remember the
          streets this hot.
          Saleem looks around, sees if anyone was listening, then
          takes the old man's arm.

          You don't want to talk here.
          Suddenly, a POLICEMAN shoves Saleem from behind. Saleem
          turns to the officer, already apologizing, but Wasim
          steps between them. The cop pushes Wasim with his baton.

          Tough guy? Is that right, tough
          guy? What's your name, tough guy?
          Wasim doesn't say anything. Yunus watches his father and
          brother. The cop pokes Wasim again with the stick --

                         POLICEMAN (CONT'D)
          What's your name?

          The policeman swiftly brings his club down on Wasim's
          head, dropping him to his knees. other POLICEMEN close.
          Saleem gets in the middle, but is beaten down. Wasim
          tries to reach for Yunus who is SCREAMING and hitting at
          the policeman's legs. A club comes down on Wasim's head --

                         CUT TO:







          Perfect calm at a beautiful, rural Ivy League campus with
          STUDENTS strolling between buildings.


          Tight on note cards of "conversational topics" and
          reminders to be "natural." A perfect MOTHER and FATHER
          coach their PERFECT NERVOUS DAUGHTER.

                         NERVOUS DAUGHTER
          I learned the value of diversity
          in my time at the Model U.N.
          And, across the rich leather and wood anteroom of a
          Princeton admissions office, Bob and Robby also wait.

          Maybe you'll get made Ambassador
          to somewhere cool, like France or
          Italy or Ghana. What's your dad
          do? He's Ambassador to Ghana.
          That's so cool. I know.
          Bob looks over at his son like he doesn't really know who
          this person is, which he doesn't.

          How's your mom?


                         (FORCED GAIETY)
          Great! She's great'.
          The Perfect Family glances over at them. After a beat --

                         ROBBY (CONT'D)
          Do you know what mom's job is?

          she's a secretary.

          What did she do when you met her?

          She was a secretary.

          Robby, are you nervous?
          Indignant Robby speaks loudly for The Perfect Family --







                         55 CONTINUED: 55

          I've been airlifted out of foreign
          countries and I speak three
          languages because I have to.
          They'll feel sorry for me.
          An ADMISSIONS OFFICER signals to Robby who disappears
          through the door.

          56 INT. KEBAB RESTAURANT - DAY 56

          A college dive restaurant. The workers are all Lebanese
          immigrants. Bob and Robby eat at a small table.

          I know it's a year away but I'll
          have to have a car. A decent car.
          Nothing fancy, but it has to run.
          So I can get into Boston and New
          York. They have a great crew.
          That's what they told me. I said,
          crew of what? Ha, ha. They said,
          rowing. So...if I want to row...
          Bob quickly finishes a glass of cheap, white wine.

          Robby, you know, I live... Where
          do I live? Maryland. I live in
          Maryland. Meaning you have
          residency there. In Maryland. For
          the University. Of Maryland.
          Robby liberally uses the hot sauce. Two LEBANESE MEN at
          another table nod in approval. Robby fires off Arabic.

                         ROBBY (ARABIC)
          Lebanese is like Vanilla. You want
          hot, try Pakistan.
          The men can't believe this kid speaks Arabic. Robby turns
          back to Bob and says what's really on his mind.

                         ROBBY (CONT'D)
          I just want a normal senior year.
          I want to live in a normal house.
          I want Cinemax and prom. You know
          what prom is like in Pakistan?
          Prom sucks in Pakistan.
          Bob looks at his kid with love, the real thing.







                         56 CONTINUED: 56

          Robby, it's complicated. I may
          have really screwed up at work.


          I was supposed to keep my mouth
          shut and didn't.
          Robby is disappointed and angry.

          What does Mom do again that we
          have to live in Islamabad?

          She's a secretary.
          Robby turns back to the Arab men --

                          ROBBY (ARABIC)
           Both of my parents are
           professional liars.
           Bob and Robby are the only occidentals in the place.

                          CUT TO:

          57 EXT. U.S. ATTORNEY'S OFFICE - D.C. - DAY 57

           Bennett exits a cab in front of the Justice Department
           building. The FBI looms just down the street.


           DONALD FARISH III, 60's, longer hair than you would
          expect, talks on his cell phone, feet kicked up on the
          desk. Two Assistant U.S. ATTORNEYS stare at Bennett.

          Hey, how bad is it? Ouch. When a
          Volvo dealer says that. Okay,
          you're honorable decent guys.
          Farish clicks off the cell phone, turns to Bennett.

                         FARISH (CONT'D)
          My wife and our narrow driveway.

          How the hell are you?







                         58 CONTINUED: 58

          You know, can't complain.

          That's not good, kiddo. That's
          suffering quietly. Married? Kids?
          Bennett shakes his head. Farish looks him over like a
          good diagnostician inspecting a patient. Then --

                         FARISH (CONT'D)
          There is no way a company like
          Killeen pulled off a deal like
          this without paying somebody off.
          Bennett shrugs. Looks at the Assts. They don't smile.

          Why don't you tell me what you
          have so I can respond?
          Farish looks at his guys. They all choke back laughs.

          I used to think something was
          wrong here. Now, I know
          something's wrong here.
          He stands, tall, imperious. Walks around his desk.
          Perches on the edge, towering over Bennett.

                         FARISH (CONT'D)
          Either you don't find anything
          because you don't know how to
          look. Or you do and they carve you
          out and light you on fire.
          (to his guys)
          That's gotta be the play, right?
          Bennett doesn't say anything. Farish picks up a file,
          scans it: Bennett's particulars therein.

                         FARISH (CONT'D)
          You're so under-qualified it's
          laughable. Sydney Hewitt's new
          boy. How many of those have I
          seen? They're all gone; He's still
          Sydney Fucking Hewitt.

          I guess you guys really have a
          handle on the angles.
          The U.S. Attorney team shares a moment at his expense.







                         58 CONTINUED: ( 2) 58

          Let's talk about our old friend
          the Holder Memoranda. In charging
          a corporation or --

          Sentencing a company after a
          guilty plea, cooperation will be
          factored in, which includes waving
          the privileges afforded their


          Right... I remember you now.
          Strong A in Environmental Law.

          (to the Assistants)
          He was an easy grader.

          Not anymore.

          59 INT. SQUASH COURT - DAY 59

          The SHARP SOUNDS of SQUASH. Looking through the opaque
          square of Plexiglas in the door to a squash court, Sydney
          and Bennett grunt and lunge and sweat.

          I took a bit of a temperature
          reading. The other associates seem
          to like you. That's not really a
          good sign.

          I'm sorry, Sir.
          HIGH ANGLE - down to the fishbowl aspect of the court.
          Sydney has a very good serve. As they talk he wins three
          points in a row, Bennett lunging at the spinning ball.

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          Sir, I don't want to get ahead of
          myself, but Kazakhstan... You got
          capitalists with a K --

          Six apiece.







                         59 CONTINUED: 59

          You got banker gangsters,
          gangster bankers. The Federal
          prosecutor is a good man. Smart.

                         HONEST --

          Inherited a ton of dough --

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          Seven.- Six. Already got his mind
          made up. Got his teeth in it like
          a little terrier.
          As Sydney is talking, he wins the point.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          Eight - Six. Match point.

          I think they've got someone inside
          the deal. Somebody they can

          Like an informant?

          Yes, Sir. Like an informant. Just
          my feeling based on their
          Sydney aces Bennett.

          He turns and holds out his hand.

          60 INT. CLUB ROOM - DAY 60

          The casual bar of a fancy, D.C. Men's Club. Very old
          money. Lots of power. Membership includes one woman, one
          Jew, and Vernon Jordan. Bennett and Sydney eat lunch.

          If people in oil deals talked to
          U.S. Attorneys, there'd be no oil
          DEAN WHITING, 60's, congenial, but powerful in build, an
          ex-marine, an insider for forty years, wanders over.







                         60 CONTINUED: 60

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          Dean, you know Bennett Holiday.

          Good to see you again, Sir.

          We've been discussing the Connex-
          Killeen merger situation.

          Will they get approval? Helluva
          large company if they do. I mean,

          I don't know, Sir. The Tengiz
          field, Killeen's largest asset, is
          being looked at pretty heavily by
          the U.S. Attorney's office.
          Sydney Hewitt nods to another club member. Bennett turns
          to see DONALD FARISH III joining a far table.

          Well, Bennett, as they say in the
          bible, there are many, many ways
          to light Europe.

                         CUT TO:


          A light SWITCHES ON.
          Bryan and Julie are both awake listening to Riley CRYING
          down the hall. It's unnerving, but neither one moves
          right away, perhaps hoping he'll fall back asleep.

          I wish I could just believe he's
          floating around on a cloud or in
          the corner watching us.
          Julie wants Bryan to comfort her, but he doesn't.

          That minister eulogizing our child
          made me sick. How do you eulogize
          a child? He was great at playing.
          He loved popsicles.
          She rolls into him and he holds her, but he's staring at
          the ceiling as the child's cries echo down the hallway.






          62 INT. RILEY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 62

          Bryan opens the door to his son's bedroom. Riley is
          standing in his crib, crying inconsolably.

          (his voice catching)
          I want to look out the window.
          He holds up his arms for his father who lifts him. They
          walk to the window. Riley stops crying instantly, as
          children will, and shimmies out of his dad's arms.
          At the window, they stand together, silhouetted against
          the dark night and distant street light.

                         CUT TO:

          63 INT. CORRIDOR - DAY 63

          Bob and Fred Franks walk down an institutional white

          Nothing like the straight poop to
          wake 'em up on the 7th floor. And
          the Amiri brothers. Darn nice
          work. Darn nice. How're you
          finding everything? Must be a
          little slow-paced, a little dull?

          Intelligence work isn't training
          seminars and little gold stars for

          What do you think intelligence
          work is, Bob?
          They turn a corner which gives way to another
          institutional white corridor.

          It's two people in a room and one
          of them is asking a favor that's a
          capital crime in every country on
          earth. A hanging crime.
          Another corner. Another white hallway.







                         63 CONTINUED: 63

          No, Bob. It's assessing the
          information gathered from that
          favor and balancing it against all
          the other information gathered
          from all the other favors.
          Franks smiles. Opens a door to a white, windowless room.


          It's so white it's hard to see the lines of anything.
          PEOPLE around a conference table. DIVISION CHIEF, a woman
          in her 40's, patrician and smooth, at the head. Easels
          with pictures: Prince Nasir, MSA - the Egyptian With Blue
          Eyes. The EGYPT CHIEF is talking. Bob sits.

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Welcome, Bob. Good news. We have
          something for you, something we
          think you'll like, that makes use
          of your specific skill set.

          . In the past he had been
          harbored as a guest of the royal
          A photo of the dedication of a new Water Ministry
          Administration Building. See Nasir and Meshal and, in the
          background, the Egyptian with blue eyes.

                         DIVISION CHIEF

                         (ADDRESSING BOB)
          You know this guy?
          The Division Chief points to Prince Nasir on a street.

          Prince Nasir Al-Subaai.

          His money's in a lot of dark
          corners, paying for weapons that
          could be used against the USA.
          Franks slides Bob a thick file on Prince Nasir Al-Subaai.

                         FRANKS (CONT'D)
          Paperwork on the polygraphs. Wire
          transfers to Qaeda fronts. Letters
          instructing his Water Ministry to
          employ Mohammed Sheik Agiza, the
          guy who has your missile.







                         64 CONTINUED: 64

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          He's traveling to Beirut. You have
          some experience in Beirut, don't
          you, Bob?

          It's a great city.
          Everybody chuckles.

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          This is a bad guy and we need him
          off the table. Who knows, maybe
          you'll even find your blue-eyed

          I gotta get going a little early,
          my daughter's soccer tournament.
          The Division chief passes behind Bob's chair --

          Did you see my report on the
          missile? I reset guidance to blow
          ten feet off the ground --

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Bob, you just don't get it. Nobody
          wants to hear about a missing
          missile, not right now. Besides,
          the ragheads'll never be able to
          figure out how it works.
          She leans down, taps the Nasir file, whispers.

          This is top of The Director's
          list. Hit a walk-off home run and
          you'll get any desk you want.

          65 INT. T.J. O'TOOLE'S - DAY 65

          Happy hour at a mall pub. Bob and STANLEY "STAN" GOFF,
          50's, moustache, glasses, windbreaker, ex-number three in
          CIA, smarter than he looks, drink beer and watch TV.

          How's Margaret? Divorced yet?

          We're not getting divorced.
          Stan looks at him like he's kidding himself.







                         65 CONTINUED: 65

          I'm telling you, Bobby my boy,
          number three is the charm.

          What about this C.L.Z. - Committee
          to Liberate Iran?

          Patriotic men donating their time,
          whose only goals are the full
          employment-and personal safety of
          every American.
          Bob glances sideways at him.

                         STAN (CONT'D)
          In that order.

          My goal was always to own a bar in
          Macau, before Macau got ruined
          like everywhere else.

          There's nowhere left in the world
          to own a real bar, Bobby my boy,
          but I'll tell you one thing, you
          could quit right now, I'll get you
          hired back tomorrow as a. private
          consultant. You'll be doing the
          exact same job, sitting in the
          exact same office, only at double
          the salary.

          I'm not doing anything sitting in
          that office. That's the problem.
          (to the Bartender)
          Bourbon rocks --
          Bob glances up at the TV. ON TV: financial news, BRYAN
          WOODMAN in front of the trading floor at his company.

          BRYAN (ON TV)
          If on Monday Khatami refuses the
          I.A.E.A. inspectors, look for
          crude prices to spike yet again.
          Push into the television --

                          CUT TO:






          66 INT. MINI-STUDIO - DAY 66

          Bryan under the lights, listening. on closer inspection
          he looks tired and his tie is loosened.

          It's not like it's any secret Iran
          will refuse the snap inspections.
          (after a pause)
          okay. Thank you, Rebecca.
          Bryan nods and the lights go off on Bryan. He stares --

          BOSS (O.S.)
          Go home.

          It was a stupid question, Henry.

          VINCENT (O.S.)
          The Prince's man called again.

          I'm just telling him.

                         CUT TO:

          67 EXT. MALL PARKING LOT - NIGHT 67

          Bob and Stan drunkenly exit T.J. O'Toole's into the
          standard suburban mall parking lot. There is a bright
          multiplex sign. FAMILIES and TEENAGERS stroll.

          I like consulting. No, I love it.
          Love it. And I'll say this for it,
          private business is efficient.
          There I said it. Fucking cliche.
          And the CIA is like what, a thirty
          billion a year business. so
          anybody wants to sell anything, a
          pencil, a computer, they gotta
          interface through a security
          clearance -- don't give me shit --
          I got two kids in college and
          we're doing our kitchen.

          Stan, I got a chance to go back. I
          want to go back. Is it safe for







                         67 CONTINUED: 67

          You talking about with your wife
          or the wackos?
          Bob doesn't say anything. He looks away.

                         STAN (CONT'D)
          Clear it with Hezbollah... shit,
          I'm late to pick up Sue.
          Stan hits his remote lock and leaves Bob standing there.
          Wide shot of Bob alone in the mall lot gently sloping to
          IKEA cobalt blue in the distance.

                         CUT TO:

          68 EXT. CAMPFIRE - NIGHT 68

          The bolt action of a gleaming hunting rifle. Danny D.,
          the "oilman" whose Congressional testimony was broadcast
          on CSPAN, sights a weapon.

          DANNY D.
          Is the Caspian a lake or a sea?

          Sea. Caspian Sea. Like seashore.

          DANNY D.
          Looks like Lake Michigan. Size of
          Lake Michigan. The Red Sea opens
          into the Indian Ocean --
          Jimmy Pope and OTHER HUNTERS drink and clean thirty ought
          sixes, their faces lit by firelight.

          Caspian's surrounded. Like a pond.
          Caspian pond.

          DANNY D.
          France and Russia want it to be a
          pond, that's for damn sure. The
          Caspian, I mean. In some court
          somewhere right now.

          Moot point, hopefully.
          An animal carcass rotates on a spit over the fire.







                         68 CONTINUED: 68


                         (TO BENNETT)
          Mr. Janus, Chairman of Connex, and
          Dean Whiting, founding partner of
          your firm, are proud members of
          the Committee to Liberate Iran.
          Danny D. here is, too.

          DANNY D.
          D. is for Dalton. I was on the
          other side of the Tengiz deal.

          The other side?

          El Presidente Nazerbayev's best
          pal in the whole world.

          DANNY D.
          It's a beautiful field. Goddamn,
          is it a beautiful field.
          Danny hands a clean, checked rifle to Bennett.

          DANNY D. (CONT'D)
          I guarantee we'll let the air out
          of some tomorrow.

          69 EXT. 777 RANCH - HONDO, TEXAS - DAY 69

          A herd of zebra trots across a field and distant GUNSHOTS
          crack through the pine forest. This is a private game
          preserve, 10,000 acres of "conservation."
          A large sign shows a buck in cross-hairs and `777 Ranch -
          Experience Wildlife from Four Continents in Texas."

          DANNY D. (O.S.)
          I believe in getting inside their
          personal space. So it's you and
          him and nothing else. That's
          eighteen yards for a tiger or
          Bennett and Jimmy ride in the back of a "wagon," a
          modified shooting platform pulled behind a Jeep.

                         € JIMMY
          Six billion barrels of oil, a
          billion of natural gas liquid,
          fourteen trillion cubic feet of

                         GAS --







                         69 CONTINUED: 69
          Danny D.'s conversation floats up from a lower platform.

          DANNY D. (O.S.)
          Man, I mean to tell you, by the
          end, you got blood of lions,
          baboons, rhinos on your dungarees.
          Bennett, wearing an orange vest over his casual clothes,
          seems uneasy. Jimmy yells down to his friend.

          That's Kenya, Danny, not one of
          these turkey shoots.

          DANNY D.
          Bred animals kill, too, Jimmy.
          Jimmy continues his thought to Bennett.

          Fuck Connex. Fucking slant-
          drillers. Don't know why I ever
          sold 'em my company in the first
          place. Here, take your pick.
          He hands Bennett a thick catalogue.
          ANGLE ON CATALOGUE: Pages of animals you can shoot with
          pictures and description.
          ADDAX -- "this large African antelope is white with a
          gray masked face. It's horns corkscrew up making multiple
          twists in both sexes. Large males can weigh 275 lbs. Both
          males and females make handsome trophies.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          The Tengiz is the Holy Grail. You
          get into that stream, nobody in
          your family will ever have to
          clean a toilet again.

          I have a feeling this U.S.
          Attorney has a source.

          Like somebody who didn't get into
          Tengiz and is pissed off about it.

          Any idea who that might be?
          Jimmy looks at Bennett like he was just born.







                         69 CONTINUED: (2) 69

          How 'bout every other oil company
          in the world.
          (re: the catalogue)
          What's your fancy?
          Bennett randomly picks an animal from the list.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          The Kudu. Good choice.
          (calling to driver)
          Floyd. Kudu.
          Bennett sees in the distance "Beater Boys," Mexican men
          in orange jackets, flushing quail for a party of hunters.

                         70 (OMIT) 70

                         71 ANGLE LATER 71
          IN THE DISTANCE a massive Kudu, tame as a house cat,
          unafraid of guns or people, stands near a feeder.

          DANNY (O.S.)

          Kudu. Big bull.
          Bennett hesitates. Jimmy looks at him.

          I'm not sure --

          Jesus H. Christ. Kudu is rare. Get
          that gun up.
          Bennett lifts the rifle. THROUGH THE CROSS-HAIRS the Kudu
          is gigantic and unaware of the hunters.

           DANNY D. (O.S.)
          He's got 52 inch horns. Maybe 54.
          The Kudu looks at Bennett. An uncomfortable beat --

          JIMMY (O.S.)
          Come on, son. He won't wait all
          Finally Bennett PULLS THE TRIGGER. The gun is LOUD. He
          stares, then slowly pulls back from the scope.

          DANNY D. (O.S.)
          Lung shot. He's gonna run a bit.






          72 EXT. THICKET - 777 RANCH - DAY 72

          The sound of their feet - tromp, tromp, tromp - as Jimmy
          and Bennett move through dense thicket looking for the
          wounded animal.

          My granddaddy was a wildcatter.
          Same with my daddy. That's how I
          got my start. Luck and hard work.
          Nobody handed me shit. Now, I got
          libraries and parks named after
          me. And I'll probably ruin the
          grand-kids. You wearing a wire,


          Mind if I pat you down?
          Jimmy checks for a recording device. He's clean.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          We all tell ourselves little
          stories, Bennett. Sometimes I'm
          the flame burning in the Jefferson
          Memorial. Other times I'm a guy
          with his nose pressed up against
          the windows of a whorehouse --
          Suddenly there's a RUSTLING as a large animal passes
          somewhere close. Bennett freezes. Jimmy looks at him.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)

          This deal snapped the lights on in
          the kitchen and the rodents all
          scurried. Now you're standing
          there under the lights trying to
          point to where they all went.

          Don't be the one caught out in the
          Jimmy unslings his rifle and motions to where, obscured
          in the thicket, a pair of intense dying eyes stares back.

                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
          What'd your daddy do, Bennett?







                         72 CONTINUED: 72

           I don't know who my father is.
           On Bennett as Jimmy FIRES --

                          CUT TO:

          73 INT. TAXI - BEIRUT - DAY 73

          Bob rides in a taxi through the streets of Beirut, a city
          that was once the Paris of the Middle-East: dust, noise,
          construction cranes, and knock-off designer clothes.

          They turn off the wide airport road into a warren of
          narrow streets. The cab stops and the driver turns --

          Southern Suburbs.
          Bob happily waves him on. Streets narrow. People stare.

          How can you tell if you're talking
          to a Shiite or a Sunni Muslim.

          If you feel like Shee-iteing your
          pants you know.
          The driver glances at Bob in the rearview.
          OUTSIDE a MAN has a gun stuck in his waistband. Another
          MAN on a roof has a rifle. A paranoid, guarded place.
          They turn and suddenly a metal gate is across the road.
          MEN pour out around the car. Flannel shirts, olive drab
          army shirts, beards, no beards, guns in waistbands.
          Bob's door is opened and he is yanked from the cab.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          I'm here to see Said Hashimi.
          They roughly frisk Bob.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          Hashimi. Said Hashimi.
          They take his pen, remove his belt, check his passport:
          it's Canadian. Bob's picture. The name is SEYMOUR RISEN.
          They check his license: the name is SEYMOUR RISEN.







                         73 CONTINUED: 73
          Bob is pushed into another vehicle. Someone pulls bills
          from Bob's wallet and flips them to the cabbie.
          The gate rises. The car pulls away. The gate drops. The
          cabbie is left standing there holding the bills.


          1970's Arab architecture. Large room. Wide doorway. Wide
          hallway. Wide stairs. No direct sunlight or sight-lines.
          LOCAL FARMERS, WORKERS wait. Flannel crosses to Olive
          Drab. Both have guns in their waistbands. They talk
          quietly, then laugh.
          Bob sits on a low couch. Opaque glass separates two rooms
          and shadows move behind it. SOMEONE offers Bob hot tea.
          A door opens and a man signals for Bob, who gets up,
          holding his pants.

          75 INT. HASHIMI'S ROOM - DAY 75

          Dim light. An air-conditioner hums in the wall. SAID
          HOSSEIN HASHIMI, 80's, Tolstoyan grey beard, turban,
          rheumy eyes, the spiritual leader of the Hezbollah, sits
          in a high-back chair in a corner.
          Bob sits in a high-back chair near Hashimi. The young men
          revere Hashimi and guard him carefully.

                         SAID HASHIMI
          I have a good feeling about
          American people, Bob. A good
          people. A welcoming people. There
           are ten million Muslims in the
          U.S. I have over 300,000 followers
          in Detroit alone.

          Thank you for this audience. I
          have a business proposal for
          Mussawi. One that benefits
          Hashimi nods magisterially.

                         SAID HASHIMI
          Mussawi is an energetic young man.

          Your Arabic is very good.







                         75 CONTINUED: 75
          The power CUTS OUT. The air-conditioner SLOWLY DIES OUT.
          It's near dark in the room. The guards move nervously
          toward Bob and Said Hashimi.

          I thought it would also be prudent
          to say, I have no interest in
          Hezbollah. This is business and it
          doesn't concern Hezbollah.
          In the distance a dog barks and chickens cluck. After a
          beat, Hashimi turns his rheumy eyes on Bob.

          If what you say is true, consider
          yourself welcome in Lebanon.
          The generator comes on with a distant WHIR. The lights
          come on. A man crosses to the air-conditioner, reaches up
          and trips the circuit breaker, bringing it back to life.

                         CUT TO:

          76 INT. GROTTO - BEIRUT - DAY 76

          An ancient grotto where the early Christians used to
          hide, be discovered, and executed. A tourist attraction,
          it's a cool, vast, dimly lit, subterranean space.
          Bob reads a description of a stalactite formation. He is
          alone, waiting for someone. The grotto ECHOES.
          In the distance, TWO ARAB SCHOOL CHILDREN, playing with
          the echoes, do a little dance step and rap out, in broken
          English, a well-known American SONG.

          I gotta ask you one question. Amin
          Shehab... car accident?
          Bob turns to look at MUSSAWI, 30's, closely-shaved bullet
          head, seemingly good-natured, a businessman, he speaks
          English with a New Jersey accent.

          Yeah, sure. Only one of them was
          propelled by gas and the other by


          The papers said heart attack.
          Bob nods pleasantly.







                         76 CONTINUED: 76

          He saw an engine coming at him at
          27,000 feet per second and his
          heart stopped.
          This settles a beat.

          Rumors of Bob, but never Bob. It
          is Bob, right? What is it you tell
          people you do these days, Bob?

          I'm between State Department and
          Bob surreptitiously looks around to see if Mussawi is
          alone. It's clear Bob makes him nervous as well.

          Just me, buddy, as requested.
          Bob reaches inside his jacket. Mussawi reaches in his.

          I'm getting some information,

          My name is Mussawi.
          Bob hands a picture to Mussawi.

          Okay, Jimmy.
          Mussawi glances down at the picture. It surprises him.
          ANGLE on the picture of PRINCE NASIR crossing a street.
          Bob has a small pad on which he scribbles a dollar
          figure. Mussawi glances at the number. He's impressed.

          He's traveling to Beirut. It's
          dangerous to travel. He'll

          I want you to drug him, put him in
          the front of a car and run a truck
          into it at fifty miles an hour.

          It's good to have you back in
          town, Bob.







                         76 CONTINUED: ( 2) 76
          Mussawi turns and walks away, singing some familiar song.

                         CUT TO:

          77 EXT. CITY - PERSIAN GULF - DAY 77

          Drifting above tall glass buildings. Construction cranes

          78 INT. SHANGRI-LA HOTEL ROOM - DAY 78

          Tall glass buildings rise out of the white desert. Pan
          and find Bryan Woodman staring out the window. He's on
          his cell phone.

          BRYAN (INTO PHONE)
          There's an arrow on the ceiling
          pointing the direction of Mecca.

          The Bin Laden group air-
          conditioned Mecca. One of their
          big projects. They made billions
          and billions.
          No response on the phone.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Women are covered head-to-foot
          walking five feet behind the men.

          It's humid. 125 degrees and humid.
          I walked out of the airport and it
          was like a wall fell on me. All
          the Arabs in white sheets. It
          says, it's hot and I don't have to
          work. I'd like to see them play
          baseball dressed like this.
          He dwindles away. silence on the other end of the phone.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Fine. I'm fine.

          No, I'm fine.

          How are you?
          More silence. He looks down at the swimming pool of the
          luxury hotel, a peaceful blue aberration in the
          desiccated landscape.






          79 INT. LOBBY - SHANGRI-LA HOTEL - DAY 79

           Bryan stands alone under a vaulted atrium. An ARAB MAN in
          white separates from a group and ushers him outside.

          80 EXT. DESERT DRIVE - DAY 80

          Tapioca dunes drift away for miles. An Oryx nests with
          two of its young. A Range Rover splits the dunes.

          81 EXT. NASIR'S DESERT HOUSE - DAY 81

          On the deck of an elegant desert house composed mainly of
          tents and sails a SUPPLICANT beseeches a favor from
          Prince Nasir who reads a newspaper and watches TV.

          Your generosity is bigger than a
          mountain that shades us from the
          burning sun. I humbly ask for my
          citizenship expiry date to be
          The Prince nods his assent. Across the deck Bryan sits
          with the PRINCESS AL-SUBAAI, 30, a Westernized young
          woman with dignity beyond her years.
          They watch as Nasir is served coffee by SERVANTS who make
          sure not to block his view of the financial news. The
          supplicants stare at the Princess.

                         PRINCESS AL-SUBAAI
          They hate me being here, dressed
          like this. My husband tells them,
          she's a medical doctor, she'll
          examine your children, but only
          without a veil.
          A SECRETARY checks a list and ushers another supplicant

                         SUPPLICANT #2
          The money given for my children's
          education was spent on farming and
          camels, but your benevolence is
          like the shade of palm trees in an
          Nasir nods then makes his way over. Bryan watches the
          princess smile. Her husband kisses her cheek. Nasir sits.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          My father has ordered the Marbella
          estate to be razed.








                         81 CONTINUED: 81

           PRINCE NASIR (CONT'D)
          There will be a park. To lose a
          first born son...
          Nasir doesn't know what to say.

                         PRINCESS AL-SUBAAI
          We're very sorry for your loss.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          A house main was run in the wrong
          place. The covering for the wiring
          had deteriorated.
          Bryan just stares at him.

          You're very angry. I understand.

          You can't possibly understand.

          82 EXT. DESERT RUINS - DAY 82

          Tight on a falcon's face. Heat ripples across flat, white
          desert. It's hallucinogenic.

          An ancestor of mine owned this
          bird's ancestor before Christ was
          The falcon catches an updraft and rises effortlessly.

                         NASIR (CONT'D)
          Six more North Field blocks will
          be available for development. We
          would like to offer your firm the
          right to represent them.

          Six blocks. Which phase?

          Phase three.


          Twenty-seven, twenty-eight million
          cubic meters per day. We'll be in
          the stream for what, ten one
          hundredths of a cent, which is,
          roughly... Seventy-five million
          Nasir nods.







                         82 CONTINUED: 82

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Great. That's great. Seventy-five
          million dollars...

          How much for my other kid?
          Prince Nasir stares at Bryan.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          If I were your economic advisor
          I'd tell you it's not the dumbest
          thing you've ever done, but it'll
          probably be the dumbest thing you
          do today. Probably.

          But why would you need an economic
          advisor? Twenty years ago you had
          the highest GNP in the world and
          now you're tied with Paraguay.
          Your second biggest export is
          second-hand goods. Followed by
          dates on which you lose five cents
          a pound.

          You want to know what the business
          world thinks of you. They think a
          hundred years ago you were
          chopping each other's heads off in
          the desert and that's exactly
          where you'll be in another
          hundred. So, yes, on behalf of my
          firm, I accept your money...

          Okay, fine. I'll have the money
          forwarded to your firm

          And I'll give you another hundred
          million for the other kid.
          They look at each other.

                         NASIR (CONT'D)
          OK. So now that you're my economic
          advisor; tell me something I
          haven't heard.
          Bryan stares a beat, thinking.

          Okay. You want an idea, here's an







                         82 CONTINUED: (2) 82
          He draws in the sand: he draws Nasir's kingdom, the
          Persian Gulf, Iran. Turkey. And Europe.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Your kingdom is here. The North
          Field is here. Europe is here.
          Because of trade restrictions and
          outdated alliances, you've been
          selling your gas for peanuts,
          loading it on ships, and waving as
          it sails away.
          (re: the stick)
          But, pretend for a second this is
          excess Iranian pipeline capacity.
          He lays the stick across the circles in the sand like an
          overland pipe running to Europe.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Here is your route. Overland.
          Through Iran. You commoditize it,
          you control it, you take it right
          to the front door of every home in
          Europe. Your profit just went up
          by a factor of three, possibly
          four. I think that's a pretty good
          Overhead the falcons spiral higher and higher, chasing.
          each other in the sky. The rising MURMUR of AMENS --

                         CUT TO:


          A cavernous mega church, a religious Wal-Mart with 8500
          worshippers in stadium seating. REVERAND STEWART, 30's,
          intelligent and sincere, wears a headset --

                         REVERAND STEWART
          And when Jesus had been Baptized,
          just as he came up from the water,
          suddenly the heavens were opened
          and he saw the Spirit of God
          descending like a dove and
          alighting on him. And a voice from
          heaven said, "This is my Son, the
          Beloved, with whom I am well
          pleased." Let us pray: 0 God, open
          our hearts to your word and open
          your word to our hearts. Amen.
          AMENS. Danny Dalton, his WIFE and CHILDREN sit in good
          seats up front. Danny has a flag pin on his lapel.







                         83 CONTINUED: 83

          This is the third in our four week
          series on Luke 2:52. And Jesus
          continued to grow in wisdom,
          stature, and in the love of God
          and those who knew him. The task
          is NOT getting more of God, but
          letting God get MORE of us.
          High above the pulpit, dead center of the auditorium is a
          giant American flag waving under the cross.
           Slowly the MURMURING RISE of different PRAYERS.

                          CUT TO:

          84 INT. MOSQUE - PERSIAN GULF - DAY 84

          A long narrow mosque packed with men kneeling shoulder to
          shoulder CHANTING PRAYERS. Most of them are under thirty.
          Their movements are unified and ecstatic.

          THE CLERIC (V.0.)
          They will try to disguise the
          difference, to make Muslims who
          speak about religion appear to be
          fanatics or backward people.

          85 INT. MADRASSA - DAY 85

           Boys study at small desks. Boys chanting. Boys lined up.
          Even smaller boys at smaller desks.

          86 INT. SMALL ROOM - MADRASSA - DAY 86

          A circle of TEENAGERS, round-shouldered, melancholy,
          including Farooq and Wasim, sit at a table eating lamb
          and french fries.

          THE CLERIC (V.0.)
          They will tell us the dispute is
          over economic resources or
          military domination and if we
          believe that we play right into
          their hands, with only ourselves
          to blame.
          There is a remarkable contrast between the setting at the
          government barracks (sterile, poor) and the Mosque (warm,
          rich). The teenagers wear serious expressions and
          try/fail to be respectful as they gorge.







                         86 CONTINUED: 86

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          No. The divide between human
          nature and modern life cannot be
          bridged by free trade. No. It
          cannot be cured with deregulation,
          privatization, openness or lower
          taxes. No.
          THE CLERIC, 40, is a serene man whose beard and glasses
          make him appear older than his age. Wasim watches as he
          talks in hypnotic cadence, making eye contact with each
          boy in turn.

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          The pain of living in the modern
          world will never be solved by a
          liberal society.
          The Cleric's sympathetic gaze falls on Wasim who is
          bruised with black eyes from his beating.

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          Liberal societies have failed.
          Christian theology has failed. The
          West has failed.
          He serves more lamb and vegetables to Wasim's plate.
          Wasim begins hungrily eating again.


          Boys pull a plow in the fields. The sound of BEES.

          THE CLERIC (V.0.)
          The divine and the worldly are but
          a single concept and that concept
          is Koran.
          They walk past bee hives spaced across the desert. Farooq
          and Wasim and two OTHERS are with him.

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          No separation of religion and
          state - Koran. Instead of Kings
          legislating and slaves obeying -
          They stand in a corn field growing in the desert. The
          boys are impressed with themselves as only young,
          uneducated men can be when discussing philosophy and
          politics with a learned man.







                         87 CONTINUED: 87

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          The true confrontation is over
          Islam. They must eradicate Islam
          in order to rescue their own
          doctrine from extinction. True
          Islam will end up partial Islam.
          And partial Islam cannot exist.
          The cleric bends down to pull a weed.

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          Do you believe me when I tell you
          Wasim watches Farooq nod emphatically. They are full and
          The Cleric seems to know everything in the world.
          The Cleric surveys the boys with quiet exaltation, his
          tenderness and compassion begins to affect Wasim.

          THE CLERIC (CONT'D)
          Now, who would like sweets before

                         88 (OMIT) 88

                         CUT TO:


          A banner reads: UNION OF ARAB NATIONS - BEIRUT, LEBANON
          Wide steps in a wide plaza. A CROWD watches as IMPORTANT
          MEN, including Prince Nasir, sweep down the marble stairs
          to microphones. The PRESS snaps photos.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          We begin the process of empowering
          a new generation of Arabs with the
          skills and training necessary to
          succeed globally...
          Bryan claps dutifully. But he's on the phone, the cord
          dangling from ear to Blackberry which reads "work."

          BRYAN (INTO PHONE)
          He invited me to come with him. I
          think he thinks he's somekindof
          reformer. He's got a nice jet.
          Okay, very nice. Hold on a sec --
          He glances at the Blackberry screen. Another call -- JULIE
          HOME. He hits "IGNORE CALL."







                         89 CONTINUED: 89

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          Julie's fine with it.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          our 13 point document is an
          agreement on principles calling
          for greater political freedom,
          good governance and transparency,
          advanced civil liberties and human
          rights, women's rights, and
          judicial reforms.
          Bryan's phone vibrates again - JULIE HOME. He turns the
          phone off.

          However, unlike Washington's
          Greater Middle East Initiative, we
          respect each country's right to
          move at its own pace.
          APPLAUSE. One leader after another solemnly shake hands
          with Nasir as a photographer records the moment.

          In the crowd with a student's backpack at his feet.
          PRINCE NASIR moves down the steps. Bryan and the rest of
          his entourage join him heading toward black limousines.
          WEATHERED MAN picks up his pack, moves around the crowd,
          slips past a barrier.

           (to Prince Nasir)
           You are a good man. I want to
          shake your hand.
           The bodyguards and police start shouting in Arabic.

                          GUARDS (ARABIC)
          Stop. Don't move --
          WEATHERED MAN wears a serious expression heading straight
          for Nasir who turns and sees him --

          You are good man. Like Sadat, you
          will shake my hand. Good man.
          The guards are SCREAMING. People start scattering --
          The weathered man is reaching in his backpack --







                         89 CONTINUED: (2) 89
          BODYGUARDS grab Nasir, hustling him toward a limo. Bryan
          lunging after them --
          The weathered man is tackled and pummeled.
          The limos race away, sirens blaring, flags flying.
          The weathered man is held and searched. They find pens
          and pads. His spilled bag held books.

          90 INT. LIMOUSINE - DAY 90

          Nasir and Bryan in a stretch with bodyguards as they race
          away with sirens blaring and flags flying.
          Bryan is pale. He watches Prince Nasir settle back into
          his seat. An AIDE fires Arabic at him.

                         AIDE (ARABIC)
          Your highness, do you still want
          to meet and greet?

          Everything as scheduled.
          Nasir looks out the window. He switches to English for
          Bryan but is speaking more to himself.

          Respect the right to move at their
          own pace. Respect the right to do
          nothing is more like it. Except
          condemn Israel and strengthen the
          conservative religious movements.

          91 INT. ALBERGO LOBBY - DAY 91

           Prince Nasir and his party enter the hotel and sweep
           through the lobby. They approach the elevators. Bryan and
           Prince Nasir and one bodyguard enter an elevator.

          92 INT. ELEVATOR - ALBERGO - DAY .92

          The elevator TONES at another floor. The elevator stops,
          the door opens and BOB stands there.

                         PRINCE NASIR

          Nasir motions for them to squeeze together for Bob. The
          gate closes. The lift creaks and begins to rise.







                         92 CONTINUED: 92
          Nasir is looking at Bob.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Don't see many Occidentals these
          Bob doesn't say anything.

          It's too bad.
          Bob nods again. As the elevator moves higher more light
          floods in through the wire mesh. Bob's eyes meet Nasir's.


          Prince Nasir, Bryan, and bodyguards sit with a larger
          party across the rooftop garden.
          Bob sits by himself eating a sandwich. From below there
          is the distant THUMPING of a car stereo.
          A little bird dances along the railing watching for
          crumbs. All of Beirut is spread out below.
          PUSH past the bird over the railing where seven floors
          below a Toyota Land Cruiser pulls around the hotel.

          94 INT. ALBERGO LOBBY - DAY 94

          An EMPLOYEE approaches another EMPLOYEE at the desk and
          furtively pulls her away.
          ANGLE THROUGH A DOOR to the front of the hotel, which is
          now completely empty, except for the Toyota Land Cruiser
          with dark tinted windows and five antennae. The stereo is
          thumping some odd AMERICAN SONG.

          95 EXT. ROOFTOP GARDEN - DAY 95

          Bob puts down bills for his check. The waiter is nowhere
          to be seen. There's no one behind the bar. No one at the
          waiter's station.
          Bob glances over at Prince Nasir who is laughing at
          something in the Wall Street Journal.

          96 INT. ALBERGO LOBBY - DAY 96

          Shots of the empty lobby, someone DINGING the bell.
          Everyone has disappeared.






          97 INT. ALBERGO HALLWAY - DAY 97

          Bob outside his hotel room door. The hallway is empty.

          98 INT. BOB'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY 98

          Bob enters his room, chaining the door. He turns and
          THREE MEN with guns are standing there.
          He's slammed against the door. Duct tape around his
          mouth, his arms taped back, his legs wrapped. A black
          duffel bag goes over him, swallowing the light.

          99 EXT. LAND CRUISER - DAY 99

          The duffle is heaved into the back of the Land Cruiser
          with a THUD. The trunk gate is slammed --

          MATCH CUT TO:

          100 EXT. SMALL WAREHOUSE - DAY 100

          The doors of a UPS truck open. Boxes loaded on a dolly.
          Follow the dolly into --

          101 INT. SMALL WAREHOUSE - DAY 101

          A small warehouse. Roll past a few desks, some lamps. The
          dolly stops. Tilt up to find --
          Bennett finishing a file and starting another.
          And beyond, a DOZEN PARALEGALS and the mountain of boxes
          holding 1.3 million pages of documents.
          Bennett's phone VIBRATES loudly. He checks the number.

          102 INT. BAR - DAY 102

          Tight on a hand written "business" card that says, "If
          you find me, call my son, Bennett Jr., at this number."
          Bennett takes the card from a bartender and finds his
          father slumped in the corner of a seedy bar.

                         CUT TO:

          103 INT. BARE BULB APARTMENT - DAY 103

          A rundown kitchen. The windows are sealed. In another
          room three MEN eat lunch, sharing a two liter bottle of
          Mecca Cola, gossiping in Arabic.







                         103 CONTINUED: 103
          On a wooden table is a generator, a homemade shocking
          device the size of masonry brick with a long wire to the
          generator, and a thick pair of rubber gloves.
          Bob is duct-taped tightly to a chair. His face is
          battered. His mouth is cracked. He's severely dehydrated.
          His hands and feet are dark purple and swollen.
          A door opens. FOOTSTEPS. Mussawi's VOICE --

          MUSSAWI (O.S.)
          Bob, what do you know about
          torture methods used by the
          Chinese on the Falun Gong? Number
          one method? What's your guess?
          Water dungeon? Did-you guess water
          dungeon? Impractical here.
          Bob's POV of Mussawi crossing to the generator. He uses
          the hand crank, which makes a grinding SOUND.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          Number two method? Number two:
          twisting arm, putting face in
          feces. Not interested in two.
          Number three? Number three they
          call pulling nails from fingers.
          What do you think, Bob? Does
          Number three sound good to you?
          He lets go of the generator and picks up an evil-looking
          pair of pliers the size of bolt-cutters. Bob's POV over
          his own hands as Mussawi approaches.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          The purpose is to get them to
          recant their beliefs.
          Mussawi circles behind Bob who tries to speak but his
          throat is too dry. Other MEN hold the chair steady.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          What if I had to get you to'
          recant? That would be difficult,
          right? Because if you have no
          beliefs to recant, then what?
          Bob wiggles his hands as if they could escape. SOMEONE
          mashes Bob's right hand flat, splaying the fingers.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          You're fucked is what.
          The pliers fix on the nail of his pinkie.







                         103 CONTINUED: ( 2) 103

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          Bob, you're gonna give me the name
          of every person who has taken
          money from you.
          Bob stares at him. Says nothing.
          Slowly Mussawi pulls with the pliers. Bob's eyes half-
          close. Mussawi jerks away. There's a fingernail in the
          pliers. Mussawi retches.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          Ugh. That's disgusting.
          Bob is dazed. They throw water in his face.

                         MUSSAWI (CONT'D)
          Come on, Bob. Help me out here.
          As water drips down Bob's face he holds his tongue out
          and drinks. His voice returns.


                         (RE: MSA)
          Jimmy, you're not one of these
          Koran thumpers.
          The pliers attach to another nail.

          The name is Mussawi.
          TIGHT ON the pliers and nail as, ever so slowly, it is
          ripped from Bob's hand.

          104 ANGLE - LATER 104
           BOB'S'POV - as his eyes open, water in them again, his
          hands in the foreground -- ALL THE NAILS ARE GONE.
          Mussawi leans in tight, furious.

          You fucking fuck, fucking fuck
          stupid fuck, what the fuck. This
          is war you fuck. You're a
          P.O.fuckingW. Give me the fucking
          From Bob's POV Mussawi loses his shit. He starts
          battering Bob, blood flying in ropes, the chair sliding
          across the floor. The men watch without expression.







                         104 CONTINUED: 104
          The force of a blow knocks the chair over and Bob's POV
          is tilted against the floor. He hears his HEART and
          ragged BREATH.
          From this angle, he sees Mussawi cross to the table where
          he picks up a handsaw.

          I'm cutting his fucking head off.
          His feet approaching Bob. Then a door slamming open. And
          more feet, sandaled, in jalabas.
          Bob's POV of HASHIMI'S MEN entering the room. They SHOUT.

          The said is very angry with you,
          Mussawi. The Said keeps his word.
          You're our guest, too, Mussawi.

          105 ANGLE -- LATER 105
          An empty Mecca Cola plastic bottles and other refuse,
          then Bob, freed from the tape, appearing to be dead.
          His eye-lids flutter ever so slightly. He twitches. Jerks
          into consciousness. His eyes fix on a postcard leaning
          against a cola bottle.
          His POV of the picture on the card: an orphanage with
          Said Hashimi's picture inlaid. And, written on the card:


                         CUT TO:

          106 EXT. RIVERFRONT - PERSIAN GULF - DAY 106

          is passed from one ancient vessel to another as we slowly
          pull back to reveal hundreds of boats in a beehive of
          unregulated trade.

                         CUT TO:

          107 A FUEL TRUCK 107
          rolls up next to a private jet. The fuel begins to tick,
          thousands of dollars spinning by on the pump.
          Bryan and Prince Nasir and others pass by and climb the
          steps to the plane -

                         CUT TO:






          108 A HOSPITAL ROOM 108
          Bob in a six bed room. Nobody visiting. No cards or
          flowers. His hands are bandaged.

                         CUT TO:

          109 A MASS OF BODIES 109
          filling a street and intersection, thousands of Muslims
          praying, genuflecting, as far as the eye can see.
          Farooq and Wasim among the praying men. They genuflect --

          MATCH CUT TO:

          110 INT. SMALL WAREHOUSE - NIGHT 110

          Bennett sprawled over his desk, asleep. It's night.
          There's no telling how long these guys have been here.
          A paralegal, holding a piece of paper, wakes him.

          I found this. wire transfer.
          Bennett snaps awake. He looks at the document.

          Russian. I don't read Russian. Get
          it translated.

          Man, I was dreaming about
          something good, too.

          111 ANGLE - LATER 111
          Bennett wanders over to the desk of another PARALEGAL. On
          one side there's a big stack of a papers he's moving to
          another stack. In the corner of the desk is a tiny stack.

          What are these?

                         PARALEGAL #2
          Orphans. Stuff that doesn't make
          any sense.
          Bennett idly fingers a piece of paper - a receipt.

                         PARALEGAL #2 (CONT'D)
          Oh, that one's kind of
          interesting. The Lily School.








                         111 CONTINUED: 111

                          PARALEGAL #2 (CONT'D)
          A boarding school in Switzerland.
          Paid by wire transfer.
          Bennett scans the paper, then turns to the room.

          Everybody stop what you're doing.
          They look up, bleary.

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          We're starting again. I want you
          to ignore any document that
          doesn't pertain to VIDAK LIMITED.

          Everyone groans. Someone tosses a file in the air.
          Bennett goes to his desk, looks up a number, dials the
          number. A voice answers in RUSSIAN.

          Hello... Hello. English?
          (to the room)
          Does anyone here speak Russian?
          The paralegals just stare. Someone in the back shouts --

          Yeah... Fuck you.

                         CUT TO:

          112 EXT. THE SONG OF ROLAND - NIGHT 112

          The fantail of Prince Meshal's yacht, SONG OF ROLAND, one
          of many beautiful boats, anchored off Juan Les Pins.
          A dinner party in progress. The tinkle of crystal and
          music. Candles flicker. Glowing people.

          113 INT. PRIVATE SALON - NIGHT 113

          Cognac swirls. A gold cigar cutter slices off the tip.
          Dean Whiting, Meshal, and REZA BARHANI, a middle-man,
          light expensive cigars in a book-lined study on the boat.

                         REZA BARHANI
          Capitalism cannot exist without
          On the walls pictures of Meshal as a child with Reagan,
          Qaddafi. As a teenager with Clinton, King Fahd,
          Mitterrand, Chernomyrdin.







                         113 CONTINUED: 113

          We should write thank you notes to
          Mr. Whiting and. the USA for
          producing one quarter of the
          world's garbage and one quarter of
          the demand.

          You're certainly welcome. Ha, ha.
          Our pleasure, really.
          Bonhomie galore. But Meshal is either wary or stupid or
          both. Reza points to a glass case where a huge leather-
          bound book is displayed.

                         REZA BARHANI
          Prince, that is a rare treasure.

                         (TO WHITING)
          The First Arab edition of Dr.
          Johnson's dictionary.
          Meshal stares. It's his, but means nothing to him.

          Prince, is there anything we can
          do for you?
          The Prince thinks about this for a beat.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          Americans are very happy to drill
          holes in other people's countries.

                         (TO WHITING)
          I've heard of you. The cat's paw
          of the Saudi Princes.
          Whiting and Reza exchange a quick glance, but this is
          what Dean Whiting lives for.

          I know your brother, the foreign
          minister. Very bright. I know your
          father, too. He threw the second
          creepiest party I've ever been to
          in Washington. And from what I can
          tell you could probably use a bit
          of a cat's paw yourself. Second
          born son so beaten down by his
          family he can't even tell me what
          he wants when he's asked straight
          out, a grown-up baby who hates his
          brother and maybe wants to be
          king, maybe.








                         113 CONTINUED: ( 2) 113

                          WHITING (CONT'D)
          Well, Prince, are you a king? Can
          you tell me what you want?
          The Prince is at first taken aback, but then takes a beat
          to consider the offer. Whiting and the Middle-man wait.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          I do have one small dream, a
          selfless dream. At my house I have
          a perfect one-third replica of
          Hyde Park. I have ducks and deck
          chairs from the real Hyde Park.

          I wish for a monument to the
          success of the moors in Europe in
          the 8th century.

                         REZA BARHANI
          That already exists. It is called
          the Alhambra.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          A replica in my country to inspire
          the people and a new Cordoba
          Valley from which to view it. It
          took the masters a hundred years,
          but I believe we can do it in ten.

          By the way, do you know that my
          brother does not believe in God?
          Whiting sips his cognac and, considering the Prince, does
          indeed look like a cat digesting a canary.

                         CUT TO:

          114 EXT. MADRASSA CORNFIELD - DAY 114

          Wind ripples across the leaves of corn. Wasim's hand
          pulls weed grass. Farooq smiles mischievously.

          115 EXT. MADRASSA "YARD" - DAY 115

          Wasim, Farooq play soccer. Farooq is a natural athlete.

          The spider is a symbol of the sin
          of man. He bites the finger of
          Peter Parker who is now half dark
          and half light.







                         115 CONTINUED: 115

          A real spider captures, then
          stings and immobilizes, then
          watches as the prey takes days to

          They'd never show that.
          Suddenly they stop. MOHAMMED SHEIK AGIZA, the blue-eyed
          Egyptian, has been watching them. They are embarrassed.

          Are we in trouble?
          MSA smiles a patient, charismatic, spooky smile. They
          already know each other.

          Look around you at your family...
          In an OPEN AIR CLASSROOM the Cleric leads young children
          in recitation of the Koran. Boys walk to class. Boys plow
          a field.

          Look around you at your brothers
          united by faith in God Almighty
          and submission to his law.
          A bull sleeps in the shade.

          Wasim is still a virgin.
          Wasim lightly shoves Farooq.

          That is good because fornication
          is a serious crime.

          I'm a virgin, too.

                         (BY ROTE)
          It is an attack on honor and shows
          contempt for sanctity and
          encourages profligacy in society.
          The call to prayer SOUNDS across the Madrassa. They wash
          before prayer.







                         115 CONTINUED: (2) 115

          When God Almighty has chosen us
          for important work, we have no
          choice but complete submission.
          Spreading prayer mats on the ground where they stand,
          they begin to pray. In the field, the boys pulling the
          plows have begun to pray.

                         CUT TO:

          116 EXT. CIA - SMOKING AREA - DAY 116

          The Division chief enjoys a cigarette in a leafy
          courtyard of the CIA office park.
          Fred Franks hurries toward her. He stays upwind of the

          We just received a dispatch from
          Damascus, eight minutes old.
          Mussawi's shopping a story that we
          sent Bob to Beirut to assassinate
          Prince Nasir.
          The Division Chief drops her cigarette in a coffee can.

          117 INT. HIGH CORNER OFFICE CIA - DAY 117

          Terry George looks up from papers on his desk. He's got
          his hand over the phone, and he isn't happy.

                         TERRY GEORGE
          Can we get this guy? I mean now -
          real time now.


                         TERRY GEORGE
          Yes. Mussawi.

                         (INTO PHONE)
          I'll call you back.
          Terry hangs up the phone. The Division Chief and Franks
          exchange a glance.

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Practical answer is no. Not before
          he goes into another mosque or
          newspaper and this story gains







                         117 CONTINUED: 117

                         TERRY GEORGE
          He's got Bob's name?

                         DIVISION CHIEF
          Not his real name. But he's
          shopping photos of them doing the
          deal, long lens. Photos of Bob
          being held. He's lucky he's alive.

          The whole contact was a set-up.
          Mussawi apparently now works for
          Iran. First, he tortures our guy,
          then peddles the CIA connection.
          This is not good at all. After a moment to think, he
          spits this out, quickly:

                         TERRY GEORGE
          Put some air between us and Bob.
          Bob has a long history of
          entrepreneurial operations. We
          haven't really had a handle on Bob
          for years. After nine one one,
          some people got too much leeway,
          let their emotions get the best of
          them. These are complex times.
          There's already an active
          investigation into Bob's actions
          in, help me out here --
          They begin to spin the line together.

          Tehran? The Amiri brothers job?

                         TERRY GEORGE
          .We're trying to find out who,
          might have hired Bob for the Amiri
          brothers job. Could the same
          people be behind the Nasir job? A
          lot of people seem to want this
          Prince Nasir dead and Bob knows a
          lot of people.

          Fill in the rest, send me
          everything. Is that it?
          Fred is impressed. You don't get to be Terry George
          without some skills.

                         CUT TO:







          At the end of a depressing hallway, Bob sits in a chair,
          his bandaged hands in front of him.

          You first established contact with
          the Amiri brothers in 1998?


          You met them at a party in the
          South of France?

          Bob is framed by two, not-bright CIA SECURITY OFFICERS.

          Party given by Reza Barhani?


                         CIA OFFICER #2
          Were you aware they were involved
          in the illegal arms trade?

          Of course I was aware. It's why I
          went after them.

          Were you aware these two men were
          Iranian Intelligence Officers?
          Bob can't believe the question.

          what do you think?

          Mr. Baer. This is a diplomatic
          incident. Two men were murdered.
          We've been tasked with the Damage

          We'll need you to turn your
          passport over to us.







                         118 CONTINUED: 118


          119 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - WALTER REED - DAY 119

          Bob in his bed. He stares out the window at a red brick
          wall, a fragment of sky. He sees MARGARET in the doorway.

          In their helpful way they told me
          you were at one of six places but
          since you were a number and not a
          name did I happen to have that
          number. No. No is the answer to
          whether I have your number.
          She rests her hand on the railing of the bed. On the
          verge, she looks away, then back again.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          They wouldn't give me any
          information. I didn't know how to
          find you, what I'd find...
          He pulls her close, careful of his bandaged hands.

          I'm okay. I'm fine. Hey --

          (into his chest)
          They wouldn't tell me a thing. Not
          one thing.
          He holds her. As she becomes aware of the bandages on his
          hands, as her worry has been abating, anger has
          ineluctably filled in behind.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          Where were you, Bob?
          He looks at her; he can't tell her the truth.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          Were you back in Beirut?
          He just stares. This is infuriating.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          Bob, please tell me where you were
          and tell me what happened. Please.
          Bob motions for her to come closer.







                         119 CONTINUED: 119

          I saw these Shiites selling an
          Egyptian a missile. In Iran. I had
          a feeling about this guy, a Sunni
          nut-job, but I'm back here where I
          got on the wrong side of Terry,
          then an opportunity just happened
          to come up involving someone I
          worked with before, not a radical,
          I mean, he went to Rutgers, only
          now he flips, wants to cut my
          goddamn head off. And now they got
          me isolated away in here and they
          send these suits around asking me
          nonsense questions about bad
          people who are no longer with us,
          no longer with us on their goddamn
          orders. So you tell me what
          happened. You tell me, Margaret.
          Margaret doesn't know what to say so she says nothing.


          120 INT./EXT. GENEVA - DAY 120

          Arabs strolling along the street. Nasir and hisfamily
          shop in an expensive jewelry store.


          Arabs stare out windows at the rain. Doors are open.
          People mingle. Smoke is in the air.
          A young WOMAN walks by, holding the hand of a much older
          MAN, laughing at something he's saying.

          122 INT. HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT 122

          Bryan plays Monopoly with a group of young Arab MEN. They
          are using real money. The "bank" is stacks of hundreds
          and fifties and twenties. They smoke and drink. An Arab
          youth moves the silver top hat.

                         ARAB YOUTH
          Shit. Park Place. Shit --
          Park Place with hotels. Bryan holds Park Place. The Arab
          Youth takes off his diamond encrusted Rolex and tosses it
          toward the bank.

          ARAB YOUTH (CONT'D)
          Where are you from in the States?







                         122 CONTINUED: 122

          El Segundo.
          No one has heard of it.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          It's near Los Angeles.

                         ARAB YOUTH
          Movie stars, convertibles?

          El Segundo is like Saudi Arabia
          with a surf break.
          They hoot and protest. They don't believe him.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          It's a desert town on an ocean
          controlled by an oil company.
          Tankers lined up offshore. There's
          this smell in the air. They pass
          out flyers to families moving in.
          This town is a quiet town where
          everyone works and our families
          are happy. If you have a problem
          with it or if you don't like the
          smell, you can leave.

                         ARAB YOUTH
          If anyone works, it can't be Saudi
          They all LAUGH LOUDLY, then the laughter fades as they
          realize Julie and Riley are in the hotel room.
          Julie eyes the money and the Asian girl in the corner.

          He wanted to say good night to his
          Riley goes over and stiffly gives Bryan a hug.

                         CUT TO:

          123 INT. VENDING AREA - CIA - DAY 123

          A vending machine HISSES filling a cup. Bob presses the
          extra dark button, bandages on the tips of his fingers.
          Bob looks over and sees people staring. They look away.







          Bob stands in front of an ASSISTANT'S desk.

          she's in a meeting.

          What about Fred?

          He's in a meeting.

          125 INT. BOB'S OFFICE - DAY 125

          Bob behind his desk. He turns to his computer.
          ON THE SCREEN: CIA proprietary software. He brings up a
          search for PRINCE NASIR AL-SUBAAI. He hesitates. Finally,
          he hits return.


          ACCESS DENIED.
          Bob carefully types with his damaged fingers.



          ACCESS DENIED.
          Bob takes a sip of coffee. The wall clock reads: 10:10.


          ACCESS DENIED.

          ANGLE - LATER
          Bob at'his desk. The clock reads: 10:40. He hears a
          distant TONE. TONE, TONE, TONE. It's a computer POP-UP
          TONE. And it's getting closer.
          ANGLE - Through the glass boxes at distant offices.
          WORKERS turn, check their computers, one after another.
          TONE, TONE, TONE. Bob's computer TONES. He turns.
          ON THE SCREEN: a pop-up box reading - THIS COMPUTER IS



          A middle-class suburban neighborhood so new the
          landscaping is still tied to stakes. Half-built houses at
          the ends of streets. Kids playing Wiffle-ball.






          127 INT./EXT. DODGE K-CAR - DAY 127

          Bob pulls up on the quiet street. He checks the rear-view
          where a car with two MEN are following him. Bob pops a
          book on tape in and waits. It's Anna Karenina in Farsi.
          Fred Franks pulls into his driveway and gets out of the
          car. His WIFE appears at the front door and his kids
          gambol around -- exactly the tableau Bob has never had.
          Fred doesn't see Bob until Bob is right on him.

          Fred turns and sees Bob, looks around uncomfortably.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          What's going on, Fred?

                         FRED FRANKS
          (to his wife)
          Honey, take the kids inside, would
          you? I'll be in in a sec.
          Bob and Fred watch the family go up the walk.

          FRED FRANKS (CONT'D)
          Bob, FBI's got it. Nothing I can
          do about it. You know that. It's a
          criminal investigation. Two men
          were killed.
          This bureaucratic defense sends Bob over the edge --

          I was almost killed, Fred. My
          hands were mutilated. And they're
          asking me about the Amiri
          brothers? About Tehran?

                         FRED FRANKS
          You gotta understand. This wrecks
          careers. I shouldn't even be
          talking to you.

          I typed in Prince Nasir Al-Subai
          and my computer gets seized.

                         FRED FRANKS
          I'm advising you to drop it.







                         127 CONTINUED: 127

          Where did this Prince Nasir job
          come from? Why was I tortured. Why
          am I being investigated? Why was I
          NEIGHBORS stare. Fred's kids look out the window.

                         FRED FRANKS
          Goodbye, Bob.
          Lifting up to see Bob isolated in the grid of identical,
          treeless houses.

                         CUT TO:

          128 INT. MANDARIN HOTEL - BALLROOM C - DAY 128

          The SECRETARY OF DEFENSE projected onto a giant screen.

          In whatever lies ahead, the United
          States will remain a friend to the
          Iranian people...
          A large ballroom at a Washington hotel. It's a lunch
          meeting of the COMMITTEE TO LIBERATE IRAN packed with
          Washington hawks - middle-aged white men in gray suits.

          They have suffered years of brutal
          repression, years of domestic
          terror from their own rulers.
          At the head table: Reza Barhani; Tommy Barton of CONNEX;
          Reps of Halliburton, Bechtel, Danny Dalton, Dean Whiting.

          A new regime would bring
          deliverance for Iran. Iranian
          resources are abundant, its
          culture is rich, its citizens are
          talented. And given a chance,
          there is no limit to what the
          Iranian people can achieve.

          129 INT. MANDARIN HALLWAY - DAY 129

          On the other side of the doors, Bennett stands with THREE
          HOTEL SECURITY GUARDS. The Secretary of Defense's VOICE
          travels through the doors, muffled.







                         129 CONTINUED: 129

          You're not on the list. You don't
          have a badge and you don't have a
          Bennett looks at the three guards. He pulls out a card
          and scribbles ONE WORD on the back.

          Take this to Sydney Hewitt. Now.

          INSIDE THE ROOM the guard makes his way to Sydney Hewitt
          and hands him the card.

          Their hopes are the same as all
          people in every land: to lead
          lives of dignity in a nation at
          peace. And America will help them.
          APPLAUSE as Sydney looks up sharply. At the head table:
          Dean Crutcher, Reza, and Tommy clap along heartily.

          MATCH CUT TO:

          130 INT. CONNEX BOARDROOM - DAY 130

           Tommy, his PERSONAL LAWYER at his ear, --

          Not to my recollection --
          Bennett and Sydney square off against Tommy, Jimmy, their
          personal lawyers, one apiece.

          Killeen Oil through Daniel Dalton
          and PetroKa Energy Consultants
          created assetless shell companies
          owned by the heirs of President
          Nazerbayev. This was. discussed...
          (checks his notes)
          At the Upstream Division Meeting
          held in January of 2003 in Sun
          Valley, Idaho?

          I was at the meeting, but I don't
          focus on those kinds of details.







                         130 CONTINUED: 130

          Wherein it was described that
          Killeen bore all financial risk,
          but President Nazerbayev's
          children, while attending The Lily
          School in Switzerland, were
          entitled to all of the profits -
          seventy million dollars.
          Tommy's personal lawyer leans in and whispers in his ear.

          I attended the meeting but, as I
          said, I don't focus on those kinds
          of details.

          Daniel Dalton Jr. and PetroKa
          Energy Consultants --

                         TOMMY'S LAWYER
          A firm retained by Killeen well
          prior to Connex's involvement --

          Oh, fer Chrissakes, Tommy, we both
          got letters from the Grand Jury,
          it's not your own private little
          pity party --

          A good faith purchaser is in good
          faith only if they didn't know
          about the problems at the time of
          the purchase --

          This is the oil business we're
          talking about, right?

          The lowliest little shareholder
          knows we deal with some of the
          most stank places on earth --

          It is illegal to offer gifts,
          money or the promise of money or
          anything of value to influence
          foreign officials --







                         130 CONTINUED: ( 2) 130

          Oh, is it? I have personally seen
          a bill from this law firm to the
          government of Saudi Arabia for 36
          million dollars. A one line bill
          for services rendered.

          The business of Whiting, Sloan is
          not under discussion at this time.

          Well, it oughta be. Danny's a good
          man. He's a friend of mine.

                         CUT TO:

          131 EXT. LAKE FRONT - GENEVA - DAY 131

          The ARAB YOUTH exits the hotel and runs across the wide
          waterfront square. He cuts for a lone figure sitting on
          wall. He runs up to Bryan.

                         ARAB YOUTH
          They've sued the Emir on the Isle
          of Jersey and frozen his money. He
          was in Bulgari and his credit card
          stopped working.

          132 INT. NASIR'S SUITE - DAY 132

          Prince Nasir tosses a newspaper at Bryan --

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Some people, cousins of mine
          actually, sued my father in The
          Commonwealth alleging that he
          broke agreements to repay funds
          transferred from the State.
          Bryan follows Nasir. He glances at a photo of AGGRIEVED
          ARABS leaving court with DEAN WHITING looking protective.

          A Mareva injunction?

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Aggrieved Royals. Aggrieved about
          what? That he tried to cut their
          allowances from one hundred
          thousand a month to eighty.
          They pass wife, children, hangers-on. Room after room.







                         132 CONTINUED: 132

          There are 300 years of corrupt
          layers in the middle-east and you
          have to break the ice. There must
          be structural changes. I tell
          them, with just one of your boats
          you could revolutionize Yemen,
          build desalinization plants. The
          man with the 200 foot boat needs a
          250 foot boat. The man with 250.
          now needs 300.
          They dead-end in a small office. The Emir's JAPANESE
          SECRETARY half-rises.

          I want to see my father.
          The secretary shakes his head. Nasir is furious.

          My cousins aren't bright enough to
          be anything but finger-puppets. My
          brother has faith only in his own
          cunning. Then again, what should I
          expect, his mother was a whore.
          And he's hired American lawyers.

                         (TO BRYAN)
          What do you suppose they are
          thinking, my brother and these
          American lawyers?
          Bryan takes in the hangers-on in expensive suits peeking
          from the doorway, the view to Lake Geneva. It's surreal.

          What are they thinking? They're
          thinking we're running out. We're
          running out and ninety percent of
          what's left is in the Middle East.
          So if you look at the whole
          progression from Versailles,
          through Suez, 1973, Gulf War One,
          Gulf War II, it's really shaping
          up as a fight to the death.








                         132 CONTINUED: (2) 132

                          BRYAN (CONT'D)
          so what they're thinking is keep
          playing, keep buying your toys,
          keep spending fifty thousand
          dollars a night for your hotel
          room, but don't invest in your
          infrastructure, don't build a real
          economy, so when you finally wake
          up, they will have sucked you dry
          and you will have squandered the
          greatest natural resource in
          The Prince remains impassive. After a beat --

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Come with me, please.

          133 INT. A QUIET ROOM - HOTEL SUITE - DAY 133

          Nasir speaks privately with Bryan.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          I studied at Oxford. I have a PHD
          from Georgetown. I want to create
          a parliament. I want to give women
          the right to vote. I want an
          independent Judiciary. I want, to
          start a new petroleum exchange in
          the Middle-east and cut the
          speculators out of the business.
          why are the major oil exchanges in
          New York and London anyway? I'll
          put all of our energy up for
          competitive bidding, I'll pipe
          through Iran to Europe like you
          proposed, I'll ship to China,
          anything that achieves efficiency
          and maximizes profits for my
          people, profits which I'll then
          use to rebuild my country.

          That's great, that's exactly what
          you should do.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Exactly, except your President
          calls my father, says, I've got
          unemployment in Texas, Kansas,
          Washington State. One phone call
          later we're stealing out of our
          social programs to buy overpriced
          airplanes. We owed the Americans,
          but we've repaid that debt.








                         133 CONTINUED: 133

           PRINCE NASIR (CONT'D)
          I accepted a Chinese bid, the
          highest bid. And suddenly I'm a
          terrorist. I'm a Godless
          Nasir hopes takes the newspaper out of Bryan's hand.

          Dean Whiting.
          Tight on: Dean Whiting with the aggrieved royals.

          Who represents not only these
          aggrieved royals but also Connex
          Oil. They're pressuring my father
          to invalidate the Chinese
          contracts. They underestimate him.
          This is about his legacy to his

                         CUT TO:

                         134 (OMIT) 134

          135 EXT. MADRASSA - DAY 135

          Wasim sis studying, slowly, sounding out the words. He
          writes crudely formed letters. He sees Farooq goofing
          around with friends.

          We are a small group, the ones who
          carry convictions and ambitions.
          And an even smaller group from
          this group, are the ones who flee
          from the worldly life in order to
          spread and act upon these
          Mohammed Sheik Agiza leads the boys through underbrush on
          the communal farm. They approach a small farm shed.

          And an even smaller group from
          this elite group are the ones who
          sacrifice their souls and their
          blood in order to bring victory to
          these ambitions and principles.

          136 INT. FARM SHED -- DAY 136

          MSA pulls mats aside revealing a hatch in the floor. He
          opens the hatch. A STINGER MISSILE case is hidden below.
          He drags out the case. They help him set it on a table.







                         136 CONTINUED: 136

          So you are the cream of the cream
          of the cream. It is possible for
          us to achieve glory only by
          traversing this path.
          MSA opens the case and, as he shows off the Stinger, we
          notice a SMILEY FACE scratched into the metal.

          American-made. Good quality, but
          nearly impossible to hit anything.
          MSA lifts out another device: a conical SHAPED CHARGE.

          By shaping the charge, this will
          send a blast of molten copper
          through thirty inches of steel.
          The boys are wide-eyed. This is the coolest pocket-knife
          they've ever seen.

                         CUT TO:

          137 INT. MULTIPLEX - MALL - DAY 137

          DEATH FIST III! BROSNAN IS BOND! Bob walks past posters
          in an air-conditioned theater lobby. A bored concession
          stand WORKER ignores him.

          BOB (V.0.)
          Stan, why did Mussawi double-cross
          me? Why does no one care that a
          Sunni radical named Mohammed Sheik
          Agiza has our missile? And why did
          they open a damage assessment on
          the Amiris? And on me. For doing
          my job?

          138 INT. THEATER - DAY 138

          An empty matinee. Bob sits next to Stan Goff.

          Questions two and three seem
          obvious to me. Missiles are
          everywhere. Christ, Casey gave 'em
          out like party favors. This damage
          assessment, well, let's just say
          Nasir wasn't a home run. They're
          worried. About fall-out.








                         138 CONTINUED: 138

                          STAN (CONT'D)
          They're worried you may want to
          talk about it. But if you're
          already under investigation?

          What about Mussawi?

          Mussawi's a soldier. He's just
          like you.
          Bob stares at Stan who continues.

                         STAN (CONT'D)
          Maybe he found God. Maybe he was
          having a bad day. Maybe Americans
          shouldn't travel these days.

          Did Prince Nasir hide Mohammed
          Sheik Agiza in the Water Ministry?
          Does he fund terrorist

          Tell people what they want to hear
          and they have a better chance of
          believing you. People were paid to
          lie, coached on their polygraphs.
          Single sources spread through
          different intelligence agencies
          that don't communicate with each
          other. You know how it's done.

          Who's worried about the Nasir job?
          Stan, who's worried about me
          On the screen: a LOUD, ACTION BEAT. Stan leans over and

                         WHISPERS --

                         CUT TO:

          139 EXT. ENERGY DEPARTMENT - DAY 139

          Hulking structures in concrete like Albert Speer's vision
          of heaven as Danny D. rants at Bennett --







                         139 CONTINUED: 139

          DANNY D.
          Some trust fund prosecutor, got
          off-message at Brown, thinks he's
          gonna run this up the flag pole,
          make a name for himself, maybe get
          elected some two-bit, no-name
          congressman from nowhere, with the
          result that Russia or China can
          suddenly start having, at our
          expense, all the advantages we
          enjoy here. No, I tell you. No.

          But, Danny, these are sovereign
          nations... Sovereign nations! What
          is a sovereign nation, but a
          collective of greed run by one
          individual. But, Danny, they're
          codified by the U.N. charter.
          Legitimized gangsterism on a
          global basis that has no more
          validity than an agreement between
          the Crips and the Bloods!
          Passing people shoot sidelong glances. A GROUP of men in
          suits are clearly waiting for Danny D.

          DANNY D. (CONT'D)
          Corruption charges. Corruption?
          Corruption ain't nothing more than
          government intrusion into market
          efficiencies in the form of
          regulation. That's Milton
          Friedman. He got a goddamn Nobel
          prize. We have laws against it
          precisely so we can get away with
          it. Corruption is our protection.
          Corruption is what keeps us safe
          and warm. Corruption is why you
          and I are here in the white-hot
          center of things instead of
          fighting each other for scraps of
          meat out there in the streets.

          Corruption... is how we win.
          Danny D. winds down. Finally --

          You broke the law, Mr. Dalton.

          DANNY D.
          Oh, who gives a shit!







                         139 CONTINUED: (2) 139

          You have 37 million dollars hidden
          away and the only question I can
          see of any relevance is whether
          you'll get to keep any of it.
          The two men are tiny against the architecture, the
          nation's capitol going on with it's day around them.

          140 EXT. CAPITOL HILL -- WASHINGTON, D.C. - DAY 140

          Sydney approaches Bennett who eats his lunch outside the
          law offices of whiting and Sloan.

          How'd it go? Think you'll get
          invited on any more hunting trips?

          He has kids. He's got a wife.

          He broke the law.
          Sydney holds out a golden envelope to Bennett.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)
          Mr. Janus himself wanted me to
          extend an invitation to oilman of
          the Year. He's being honored so it
          should be a nice weekend. Relax.
          Get a massage. Congratulations.
          Perhaps the slightest flicker of distaste crosses
          Bennett's face. On the reverse the Capitol Building is so
          close you could reach out and touch it.

                         CUT TO:

          141 INT. EMIR'S SUITE - GENEVA - DAY 141

          A vast hotel suite, SILENT until the Emir's electric
          wheelchair rolls into sight.
          He rolls across marble, through rooms, until he
          approaches Prince Nasir and Prince Meshal. A long beat
          before the Emir speaks in Arabic.

          I am tired.

                         PRINCE NASIR

                         FATHER --







                         141 CONTINUED: 141
          The Emir raises his hand. Nasir gets control of himself.

          Who will be Emir?
          The Emir looks away, then back at Prince Nasir.

          Your brother.
          Prince Nasir looks from his father to brother and back.

                         PRINCE MESHAL
          I would ask you to remain as
          Foreign Minister.
          Prince Meshal sticks out his hand. Nasir ignores it and
          speaks to his father.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          You cannot do this. He is barely
          qualified to run a brothel much
          less a country.


          I like Europe, the precipitation.
          I will be happy to stay here. My
          decision is final and I ask you to
          support your brother.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          I cannot do that.

          142 EXT. GENEVA LAKE FRONT - DAY 142

          The ROAR of water as the fountain cascades down. Riley
          plays along the low wall beside it. Bryan and Julie hover
          nearby. Around them people speak German and French.

          Sure, it looks like just hanging
          around in a hotel but that's how
          these people do business. It's
          world historical stage time. With
          the delivery deals we can make in
          Europe, transport through Iran,
          this guy might be able to
          revolutionize not just his
          country, but the whole region.








                         142 CONTINUED: 142

                          BRYAN (CONT'D)
          His dad's about to keel over and
          Prince Nasir could be like
          Mossadegh in Iran in 1952, with a
          real democracy springing up
          organically. I mean if we could
          just be a part of one of these
          countries getting a Parliament,
          helping them find efficiency,
          showing them how real incentivized
          capitalism can do its job --

          Stop it! Look at me.
          The fountain shoots up and cascades down. Riley leans
          toward the water and for a second his feet lift up. Bryan
          starts up, but then Riley is playing again.

          Julie, the little trading company
          I work for is now the chief
          economic advisor to Prince Nasir.
          Do you know what this means? It's
          like someone put a giant ATM on
          our front lawn.

          Here's a question: how do you
          think it looks to profit off the
          death of your six year-old?
          This gets through, but then --

          Fuck you. I changed the diapers
          and put cream on rashes and gave
          bottles in the night and went to
          doctor's check-ups and worried
          about percentiles... I did
          everything right. I did everything
          They look at each other and, for a second, it seems he
          may melt and hold her, but he doesn't and it's cruel.

          Bryan, we're going back to








                         142 CONTINUED: ( 2) 142
          She heads for Riley who lets go of a balloon. It floats
          up past the watch signs plastered on the buildings.

                         CUT TO:


          A phone RINGS a muted electronic BEEP. Dean Whiting
          answers the phone.


                         (SLEEPY VOICE)

                         ALARM COMPANY
          Hello, is this Mr. Why-Teeng? This
          is HomeTech Security.
          He reaches for the bedside light and snaps it on. Mrs.
          Whiting is a lump on the far side of the bed.

          This is Mr. Whiting.

                         ALARM COMPANY
          We're showing a motion sensor
          failure in your downstairs study.

          Whiting glances at the wall readout on his alarm --
          DOWNSTAIRS STUDY flashing.

                         ALARM COMPANY
          Like I said we're getting a
          failure message. You want me to
          stay on the phone with you while
          you walk around or send a car?
          Whiting reaches under his bed and pulls a gun box. He
          flips the combination. Three pistols. He selects the
          largest and switches off the light.

          I'll walk around.

          144 INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT 144

          Whiting closes the bedroom door and switches on the hall
          light. Lots of closed doors. He walks down the stairs.






          145 INT. DOWNSTAIRS - NIGHT 145

          He reaches around a wall and hits the living room lights.
          He crosses the living room and library, hitting lights as
          he goes. Then a kitchen. The house is quiet.


                         (INTO PHONE)
          Everything's fine.

          146 INT. DOWNSTAIRS STUDY - NIGHT 146

          Whiting's study, unlike the standard, upper-crust,
          decorating of the rest of the home, has a specific Middle-
          Eastern flair. Persian antiques. Pictures of Whiting on a
          camel, with Persian friends at oxford in the sixties.
          Whiting is an Arabist.
          The motion sensor light is on. Whiting tries a window.

                         ALARM COMPANY
          How're we doing, Mr. Why-Teeng?
          It's secure. He tries another one. It's secure.


                         (INTO PHONE)
          Everything's fine.
          There's a sliding glass door that leads to a patio and
          pool. Whiting tries it and it slides open.

                         WHITING (CONT'D)

                         (INTO PHONE)
          The sliding door is unlocked.
          He turns slowly. The room looks different. There is an
          alcove with a wet-bar and walk-in closets.

                         ALARM COMPANY
          Did you leave it unlocked?

          Send a car, you imbecile.
          He looks at the alcove and closet. Just then, the desk
          phone RINGS, startling him. The phone rings and rings.
          on the wall behind Whiting's head are beautifully framed
          photos with Kissinger, Clinton, King Fahd. Rack focus off
          Whiting and slowly ZOOM to...

          AN OLD PHOTO







                         146 CONTINUED: 146
           Of Dean Whiting and the old EMIR, NASIR'S FATHER.

                          WHITING (CONT'D)

                          (FINALLY ANSWERING)

          147 INT. DENNY'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT 147

          It's early morning. A couple of drunks at the counter.
          Bob is at a booth with a mug of coffee. Dean Whiting
          appears outside the window, enters the restaurant, sits.

          You were in Beirut in '84.

          I lost friends there as I'm sure
          you did.

          I got a peek at your file. You're
          a good man, one whose experience
          is narrow and deep. Your entire
          career you've been used and
          probably never even known what

          I didn't used to need to know.
          A Grand Slam Breakfast is set in front of Bob.

          In this town, you're innocent
          until you're investigated.
          Bob looks up and squints at the waitress' name-tag.

          Bacon looks perfect, Deborah.
          Bob puts syrup on the pancakes. Eats a piece of bacon.

                         BOB (CONT'D)
          Innocent until investigated.
          That's nice. It has a nice ring to
          it. I bet you've worn some miles
          on little sayings like that. Very
          wise, gives the listener the sense
          of law being written as it's









                         147 CONTINUED: 147

                          BOB (CONT'D)
          If anything happens to me or my
          family, an accident, an
          accusation, anything, then first
          your son will disappear, his body
          will never be found. Then your
          wife. Her body will never be found
          either. This is guaranteed. Then,
          whatever is the most dangerous
          thing you do in your life, it
          might be flying in a small plane,
          it might be walking to the bank,
          you will be killed.

          Do you understand what I'm saying?
          I want you to acknowledge that you
          do understand so that we're clear
          and there won't be any mistakes.
          After a beat, Whiting nods.

          Beirut rules, Mr. Baer?
          Whiting loves the game. Bob looks tired, maybe a little

          I've made decisions that resulted
          in deaths, but I never lost a
          nights sleep. Never. I killed
          people, but I always had about 500
          pages of U.S. law behind me, law
          that I believed in, and that was
          good enough.

          You still do, Mr. Baer. You still
          Bob stares at him.

          I want my passports back.

                         CUT TO:

          148 EXT. D.C. - DAY 148

          Tight on Bennett as he runs through a downtrodden
          neighborhood. Sweat dripping, breathing heavily, he runs
          faster and faster. People on stoops watch him go.
          He's oblivious to the UNMARKED CAR following him. Finally
          the car races up beside him. The window rolls down and
          Donald Parish III's face appears.







                         148 CONTINUED: 148

          Bennett, hey. Come on. Take a ride
          with me.
          Bennett keeps jogging.

                         FARISH (CONT'D)
          Bennett, I know you know about the
          crime fraud exception to attorney
          client privilege?

          I do, Don. Very well.

          Then, you also know your client is
          into some shady stuff and it's
          starting to look like you could be
          involved in hiding the true nature
          of the transactions.
          Bennett stops. Farish's car stops. Bennett is panting.

          That's quite a statement, Don.

          149 INT. UNMARKED CRUISER - DAY 149

          Bennett rides with Farish. A long beat. Finally --

          One word. Dalton.

          Danny Dalton?

          Defrauded the Government of
          Kazakhstan of funds to which it
          was entitled, defrauded the people
          of Kazakhstan of the right to the
          honest services of their elected
          and appointed officials. Seven
          years, does three, maybe two point
          seven, on your recommendation.
          out the window the bad neighborhood is giving way back to
          the developing neighborhood where Bennett lives.

          And let me guess: this was a solo
          act, without the knowledge of
          Connex or Killeen Oil, of Mr. Lee
          Janus or Jimmy Pope.







                         149 CONTINUED: 149

          Dalton's a bit of a rogue, it's

          And he'll have a nice little trust
          fund waiting when he gets out.

          Not so little, I imagine.

          Don, we can spend the next five
          years in court to get back to this
          very place we are right now. They
          will fight tough. They will fight
          dirty. They will pressure your
          boss. They will pressure the
          people who appointed your boss.
          They will pressure the wives of
          the people who appointed your
          boss. You won't ever hit 'em any
          harder than this. And you know it.
          Bennett waits. After a beat Farish shakes his head.

          I'm sorry, Bennett. I don't think
          Dalton's enough.

                         CUT TO:

          150 INT. BENNETT'S LIVING ROOM - DAY 150

          Bennett uses the claw end of a hammer to pry the front
          off a large wooden crate. His father sits across the room
          reading the paper. The side of the box comes down.
          Bennett stares --

          Bennett Sr. stares, then lights a cigarette.

          (re: the cigarette)
          What are you doing?

          BENNETT SR.
          The question is what are you







                         150 CONTINUED: 150

          Really. Well, I'll tell you what
          I'm not doing: I'm not running a
          shelter. You going back to work?
          No answer.

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          What happened at your job anyway?
          Another jerk? Another white
          asshole? What? You think you get
          where I've gotten and there are
          less of them? You think I don't
          want a fucking drink? You have no
          idea what I'm doing, what is
          actually going on with me. The
          only way you can change this shit,
          all this shit, is from the inside.
          I'm trying to get inside. Which a
          fucking loser like you will never
          Bennett Sr. puts down, his paper, stubs out his cigarette
          and starts for the door.

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          The door shuts behind his dad --

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)
          (yelling after him)
          I love this country. It's a great
          country, if you're not a quitter.

          AND DON'T COME BACK!
          Slowly Bennett calms. He turns, looks at the Kudu. He
          thinks and the sound of a GRILL SIZZLING begins to RISE

                         CUT TO:


          Ribs on a fancy BBQ grill. A wide expanse of lawn. No
          other houses in sight. TEENAGERS splash in a pool.

          Dalton's not enough. So they will
          sit on him until he explains the
          how and why and the who, and they
          will be forced to unravel this
          Jimmy turns from the grill.







                         151 CONTINUED: 151

                         JIMMY POPE
          I'd be real careful. You dig a
          three foot hole, you'll find one
          body, but you dig a six foot hole
          and you might find twenty.

          Dalton's not enough.

                         JIMMY POPE
          We use one quarter of the oil in
          the world, Bennett. Your house is
          light and warm and my house is
          light and warm, but what if it was
          that way half the week, or none of
          the week. Hell, China's economy
          ain't growing as fast as it could
          because they can't get all the oil
          they need. I'm damn proud of that
          Bennett gives him nothing. A beat.

          JIMMY POPE (CONT'D)
          What if it involved someone at
          your firm? Someone way the hell
          above you. We'd have to have an

          If he's as big as you say then
          when he goes down the merger will
          be approved.
          Despite himself, Jimmy is impressed --

                         JIMMY POPE
          Just like that.

          We're looking for the illusion of
          due-diligence. Two criminal acts
          successfully prosecuted gives us
          that illusion.
          Jimmy hands Bennett a plate of ribs and smiles.

                         JIMMY POPE
          Call me Jimmy.

                         CUT TO:






          152 INT. SHED - DAY 152

          ON TELEVISION: grainy video of a suicide bomber's
          videotaped "will." THE BOMBER, 19, stands in a field of
          dry rubble and flowers, is both nervous and confident, a
          backpack anything but innocuous at his feet.

          I wish for everyone who hears
          this to fear God and to follow God
          and his prophets. When I die I
          want the people who inherit my
          possessions to do the following:
          A group of twenty or thirty BOYS, including Wasim and
          Farooq, watch the video in a makeshift shed.

          One: the people who prepare my
          body should be good Muslims so
          this will remind me of God and his
          forgiveness. Two: I don't want
          anyone to rip their clothes or
          slap their faces because this is
          an ignorant thing to do.
          Mohammed Sheik Agiza watches the boys watch the video.

          His influence on those left behind
          grows. There is no sense of loss,
          since he continues to live and
          inspire, his fame spreading.
          Wasim impassively stares at the video.

                         SUICIDE BOMBER
          Three: I don't want a pregnant
          woman to come and say good bye to
          me because I don't approve it.

          153 EXT. THE BEES - DAY 153

          Golden honey flares in sunlight dripping off a comb into
          a collection jug. Wasim replaces the comb into a hive.
          In a line of square wooden hives, Farooq removes a comb
          and begins draining the honey.
          Wasim pulls out another comb.


                         OW --







                         153 CONTINUED: 153
          Wasim looks down. A bee is on his arm. He brushes it off.
          Wasim and Farooq look at the bee on the ground as it
          drags'itself around in a circle.

                         WASIM (CONT'D)

          If I truly lack faith, then I am
          not the right person.
          He looks to Farooq who seems very young at this moment.

          The questioning means that you
          have faith and makes it stronger

          That's a lot of shit, I think.
          Farooq looks around to see if anyone is listening.

          We'll get to intervene in the
          affairs of family members. We'll
          be able to help them with whatever
          they need.

          You'll be able to get your mother
          Wasim looks at his friend then looks away. On the ground,
          the worker bee stops struggling and dies.

                         CUT TO:

          154 EXT. DESERT - DAY 154

          Pan across the desert to find Nasir staring into space.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          Twenty seven tribes in my country
          and we all hate each other. My
          father arrested the malcontents.
          He crushed the religious zealots.
          Try reasoning with people who have
          one foot in the afterlife, he
          said, as he leveled village after
          Another angle and Bryan is approaching. Behind him is the
          desert house made mainly of tents and sails. DIGNITARIES
          wait on the deck and watch Nasir.







                         154 CONTINUED: 154

          You know what place my children
          love most on earth? My children
          love Colorado. I could easily live
          in Colorado while my brother
          presides over a civil war. I could
          be very comfortable.
          Bryan watches Nasir.

          I don't see you moving to

          155 INT. BEDOUIN TENT - DAY 155

          The tent is crowded with tribal and military leaders.
          Worried and suspicious, they.sit on rugs and recline
          against pillows. Nasir enters and takes his seat.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          For centuries Islam has been ruled
          by people with no respect for law,
          monopolies handed out for the
          things that people want, commerce
          stifled, young people unable to
          find jobs, critics jailed or put
          to death, women are second-class

                         CITIZENS --
           He is interrupted by a BEDOUIN LEADER.

                          BEDOUIN LEADER
           Tomorrow is the coronation. Your
           brother has the support of the
           United States. And 10,000 of their
           troops are stationed in our

                         PRINCE NASIR
          This is true. My father is ill and
          weak and unwilling to fight the
          Americans. But others are willing.
          And when a country has five
          percent of the world's population
          but does fifty percent of its
          military spending, then the
          persuasive powers of that country
          are on the decline.
          The crowd is unmoved. Rallying the men will not be easy.

                         CUT TO:






          156 INT. ZURICH AIRPORT - MORNING 156

          Bob rides up an escalator, changing planes in the early
          morning. He sees his wife watching him.


          Bob and Margaret sit in uncomfortable, connected chairs.

          If I told you I knew of something
          that was going to happen to
          someone and that I felt I had to
          try and stop it even though it
          will probably cost me my job, what
          would you say?
          She really looks at him.

          You can't tell me any more? No, of
          course not.
          She looks away. Outside the window a huge plane is
          pulling away from the gate.

                         MARGARET (CONT'D)
          I want you to do what you think is

          And maybe for you to want the same
          for me.
          After a beat, she reaches over and takes his hand.
          A wide shot of Bob and Margaret holding hands in the
          lounge, the plane lifting off behind them --

                         CUT TO:

          158 INT. PALACE - PERSIAN GULF - DAY 158

          Tight on medals on a military uniform. Hands reach down
          to pin another row. Prince Meshal Al-Subaai is looking
          into a mirror as he buckles his ceremonial sword.

          If I liberalize, the generals
          would overthrow me. If I relax my
          authority, the mob would tear me
          limb from limb. But, of course,
          I'm aware that democracy and human
          rights are good ideas.







                         158 CONTINUED: 158
          He stares long into his own royal reflection.

          159 INT. PALACE GREAT HALL - DAY 159

          Prince Meshal and ADVISORS walk toward brightly-lit
          double doors. The sound of a LARGE CROWD cheering comes
          toward him as he disappears into silhouette.

                         CUT TO:


          It's a holiday as an AM radio blares Prince Meshal's
          CORONATION CELEBRATION. Saleem and other workers play
          cricket on a makeshift pitch just outside the gate.

          I wanted to be on a bobsled in the
          Olympics. I wanted to drive. That
          was my dream.
          The men have no idea what he's talking about. He sees
          Wasim walking toward him.

                         SALEEM (CONT'D)
          Wasim! Bobsled!
          (to the men)
          Wasim knows what a bobsled is.

          Can I borrow bus fare, papa?

          Wasim, tell them about the

          It's a little car that goes down a
          track of ice and snow.
          Saleem pulls some change from his pocket and hands it to
          his son.

          Oh, how snow sparkles, the crunch
          of it under your feet, the quiet
          and calm it brings --
          Wasim suddenly hugs his father who is surprised but hugs
          him back. Then Wasim walks away.







                         160 CONTINUED: 160
          Wasim glances back. Saleem waves... and Wasim waves back.
          Then Saleem turns back to the cricket.

                         CUT TO:

          161 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 161

          On the edge of the city, Bob sits in a traffic jam in the
          glaring sun, heat waves flickering. His POV of a white
          bus full of migrant workers in blue jumpsuits.

                         CUT TO:

          162 INT. CIA - NIGHT 162

          Fred Franks stares at the window of a vending machine
          trying to decide between Doritos or Fritos. He presses E8
          and Doritos drop.


                         (TO HIMSELF)
          Man down. I'm going in.
          He snatches the Doritos.

          163 INT. CIA TASK FORCE ROOM -- NIGHT 163

          This room is now crowded, filled with audio-visual
          surveillance equipment. Palpable excitement in the air.
          Franks returns with his coffee and chips.
          WILLY, 24, a technician, buzz cut, recent 5th year Senior
          at Hamilton College, fills him in.

          Just heard from Tampa, the J-STARS
          are tracking and we should have an
          image from the Predator in a few

          He eats some chips, offers some to another guy.

                         FRANKS (CONT'D)
          Is it night there still?


                         CUT TO:






          164 EXT. BEDOUIN TENT - MORNING 164

          The tribal leaders have bargained through the night.
          Outside the tents EVERYONE ELSE is waiting, including
          Bryan whose ear piece dangles to his Blackberry.

          BRYAN (INTO PHONE)

                         (NOT EXCITED)
          We have a contract to establish a
          new petroleum exchange. No firm
          our size has pulled off anything
          like this.
          Bryan crosses to the CHINESE OIL EXECUTIVES.

                         BRYAN (CONT'D)
          He's a visionary, like Faisal or
          Attaturk, and the people love him.
          By Monday, he'll be running the
          The Chinese seem unconvinced. Finally, the tent opens and
          the leaders file out. Prince Nasir addresses the crowd.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          The Middle-East and the Arab
          people have seen empires come and
          go in six millennia. The Pax
          Romana, the Pax Ottomanica, the
          Pax Brittanica, were nothing more
          than invasions and occupations
          that ended... The Pax Americana
          will end, too.
          His wife and daughters proudly watch.

          We have endless patience for
          history, but a man starving to
          death while sitting on a chair
          made of gold can no longer afford
          to be patient. The time for
          democratic, Arab self-
          determination has arrived.
          The crowd CHEERS. And as Prince Nasir, his family and
          supporters move toward the vehicles, find Nasir's
          BODYGUARD whispering into a cell phone --

          Silver Hummer --







                         164 CONTINUED: 164
           As Nasir and Bryan enter a SILVER HUMMER.

                          CUT TO:


          The Liquefied Natural Gas facility has changed hands. The
          signage. The Chinese engineers are now American
          Native MUSICIANS entertain a small crowd of HARD HATS,
          local OFFICIALS and visiting DIGNITARIES.
          Someone BREAKS A BOTTLE across a huge colored pipe. The
          CHIEF ENGINEER signals. He throws a huge lever --
          A POWERFUL WHISPER builds, hurtling through the pipes
          toward them and past them to the LNG CARRIER, a thousand-
          foot-long tanker, docked alongside.

                         CUT TO:

          166 INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT 166

          The doors open. Sydneyand Bennettenter, wearing
          tuxedos. Sydney insertsa plasticcard allowing accessto
          the upper floors.

          His wife'll be there. Pat. Butter
          wouldn't melt in her mouth.
          The elevator TONES on every floor.

                          SYDNEY (CONT'D)
           This is good. You done good.
           The watch the floors light up.


           The door opens and PAT JANUS, 50's, Nancy Reagan suit and
          coif, opens the door. She takes in the men, smiling --

          MRS. JANUS
          Sydney, how are you? And you must
          be Mr. Holiday?
          she shakes his hand. Gives Sydney both cheeks. They cross
          the large suite, one wall of which is floor-to-ceiling
          windows giving a dazzling view of mid-town Manhattan.







                         167 CONTINUED: 167
          In a sitting area, LELAND "LEE" JANUS, 60's, a vigorous
          pit-bull in tux shirt and bow-tie, turns from the TV --

          MR. JANUS
          Syd! Bennett! Lee Janus! How're we
          Janus is standing with his hand out --

          MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          Those number crunchers can get a
          little over-zealous, can't they,
          but Christ, when we write the GAAP
          rules like some kind of abstract
          painting. Stare at that liability
          hard enough and before long it'll
          turn into an asset.

                         CUT TO:

          168 INT. CIA - TASK FORCE ROOM - NIGHT 168

          A small black and white image of a room full of GENERALS
          and SUPPORT STAFF moving silently around.
          PULLING back to reveal they're on a small monitor,
          The Division Chief, Franks, other Group Chiefs huddle
          over another, blank, MONITOR.
          ANGLE: ON THE BLANK MONITOR, suddenly, an image pops on --
          desert seen from seven miles up. A wide shot of sand and
          more sand.
          The room lets out soft YEAHS as the image shifts, finding
          a distant highway cutting through it.

          WILLY (V.0.)
          Image from Predator. Seven miles
          up. Let's go in. God, I love the

           FRED FRANKS (V.0.)

          Unmanned Aerial Vehicles. I love

                         FRED FRANKS
          And it's quiet, right?







                         168 CONTINUED: 168

          Baby cruises at eighty knots,
          about as audible as the clouds.

                         CUT TO:

          169 INT. HUMMER - DAY 169

          Bryan watches the desert fly outside the window. Nasir
          stares ahead. The Hummer slows.
          Bryan sees a vast FLOCK OF SHEEP moving diagonally across
          the desert in front of them, blocking the road.

          170 EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY 170

          In the middle of thousands of sheep, shepherds on camels,
          and SPRINKLER TRUCKS misting water over the flock moving
          with ancient slowness across the road.

                         CUT TO:


          Mr. Janus in the comfy chair. Bennett perches on the edge
          of the couch. Sydney is next to him.

          The lawyers are saying, hey,
          if you can't trust a Big Five
          accounting firm. And the
          accountants are saying, hey, we're
          not lawyers. Legal didn't
          understand. Accounting didn't
          understand. Nobody understood
          anything. The regulatory bodies
          had to scratch their heads for a
          minute that nobody at Connex or
          Killeen was at fault, but this
          merger is so balance-positive for
          American consumers that ultimately
          Justice wants it, the Federal
          court wants it. Everybody wants
          it. Our real client is US, the
          American people, and we're
          building our presence in
          Kazakhstan, so we had to give them
          a little something meaningful and
          they got out of our way.
          Mr. Janus glances at the TV where a pro golfer sinks a
          long, undulating putt.







                         171 CONTINUED: 171
          He looks back at Bennett, just a glance, but it's clear
          he recognizes in Bennett someone who understands the way
          the world works and the pressures that he, Mr. Janus, is

          MR. JANUS
          Something besides Dalton?

          Unfortunately, yes. And the best
          option seemed to be a secret deal
          for excess Iranian pipeline
          capacity that I uncovered during
          the diligence, a side deal
          benefiting the lead lawyer
          involved in the Connex-Killeen
          merger approval process.
          A slow dawning on Sydney's face --

          What do you think you're doing?

          Of course, it's illegal for an
          American to control these rights --

          Stop. Right. Now.
          Bennett and Mr. Janus look at Sydney.

          MR. JANUS
          Is there something you want to
          tell me, Syd?

                         CUT TO:

          172 INT. CIA TASK FORCE ROOM - NIGHT 172

          ON A MONITOR: the image of the distant desert slowly
          swings around.

          FRANKS (V.0.)
          What are we looking at, folks?

          WILLY (V.0.)
          We'll get there.
          They find a lone car traveling like an ant in the road.

          WILLY (V.0.) (CONT'D)
          I gotta do some traveling. I've
          never even gotten out of the USA.








                         172 CONTINUED: 172

           WILLY (V.0.) (CONT'D)
           Before grad school, I am
           definitely getting down to Mexico.
           The image tightens. It's an SUV seen from heaven.

                          CUT TO:

          173 INT./EXT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 173

          Bob is driving fast now. The modern city is behind him.
          Lift up to see the Mitsubishi heading into the desert, an
          eight lane highway heading to nowhere.

                         CUT TO:

          174 EXT. LNG TANKER - PERSIAN GULF - DAY 174

          The needle disengages from a container with a swoosh.

          The latest vacuum seal
          protection and workers trained in
          the Taiwan and the United States
          of America.
          MEN in blue jumpsuits watch the needle lift in the sky.

          175 INT. LNG BRIDGE - DAY 175

          A FUNCTIONARY talks into the microphone. People pass this
          way and that sipping champagne. The view down the length
          of the boat past the containment bubbles is striking.

           Each container holds over 20
           million U.S. dollars of fuel,
          that's 100 million in total, quite
          a haul...
          A wide of the beautiful harbor. Fire boats spray water.
          And far away, a FLOTILLA of native fishing boats, dhows
          and sambuks and boums, makes its way out to sea.

          176 EXT. FISHING BOAT - DAY 176

          FISHER-FOLK perform tasks they've been performing since
          time began. A FISHERMAN looks up --
          Following his view to another dhow as WASIM and then
          FAROOQ drift into view.
          MUSIC swells across the water from the terminal. More of
          the flotilla of fishing boats is revealed.







                         176 CONTINUED: 176
          And behind them the shoreline is dotted with oil storage
          tanks still painted with images of the old Emir.

                         CUT TO:


          Sydney on his feet, standing aggressively over Bennett.

          In our line of work, the guy with
          the documents is usually the guy
          who stole the documents.

          Finesse. Strategize. Advise. But
          don't own. Your words.

          You aren't going to hurt me,
          Bennett. You'll wash out of the
          private sector. Fact, you're
          already gone. You'll end up
          working public defender cases.
          You'll make 1/50th the money. You
          could have been on the boards of
          Fortune Five Hundred companies.
          You could have been an advisor to
          Presidents. You could have helped
          us win like Romans instead of
          sitting on the sidelines hoping we
          don't turn into Visigoths.

          You jumped that turnstile, sir,
          but don't worry, we'll get you off
          at trial --
          Sydney takes the documents out of Bennett's hands.

                         SYDNEY (CONT'D)

          We expect you kids to try and kill
          the father. We encourage it. Just
          maybe not so soon.
          Sydney senses something and sees DONALD FARISH III and
          FBI AGENTS have entered the room. Sydney turns back to
          Bennett, a flash of true venom --

          SYDNEY (CONT'D)'
          You ungrateful, pissant, nobody.
          FBI restrains Sydney. Pat looks up from her needlepoint.







                         177 CONTINUED: 177

          A piece of advice Syd, one
          attorney to another...
          Bennett leans close --

                         BENNETT (CONT'D)

          Get rid of that watch. It makes
          you look like a nigger.
          ANGLE - on Sydney's wrist is the Mickey Mouse watch. And
          then a handcuff is slipped over it and clicked tight.
           Sydney now appears completely relaxed again. He looks at
          Donald Farish III and nods --

          Don. Not the perp walk, Don --
          Farish nods as if to acknowledge they're barely out of
          round one. And they begin leading Sydney out.
          Across the room, silhouetted by the windows, Mrs. Janus
          helps Mr. Janus slip on his tux jacket.
          They see Bennett standing awkwardly in the middle of the
          room. Pat extends her hand for him to join them.


          The three are silhouetted against the skyline. Mr. Janus
          looks out at the valleys of Manhattan.

          MR. JANUS
          I'm a straight shooter, Bennett. I
          think it was Trollope who said the
          best capitalist is someone who's
          greedy and honest. We can't forget
          that second part.

          MRS. JANUS
          It was Trollope, honey.

          MR. JANUS
          We're creating a lot of jobs this
          quarter, Bennett, a lot of jobs.
          We're building a business and
          that's what America's all about.

                         CUT TO:






          179 INT. CIA - TASK FORCE ROOM - NIGHT 179

          ON THE MONITOR the convoy is in the smudge of sheep.

          WILLY (O.S.)
          Silver Hummer, silver Hummer where
          are you silver Hummer?
          ON THE MONITOR the image tightens, zooming in on the
          silver roof of Nasir's Hummer. It locks --
          Relief on the faces of Bureau Chiefs and technicians.

                         WILLY (CONT'D)
          There's a phrase. You know what I
          mean. What's the phrase? Target

                         SOMETHING --

                         SOMEONE ELSE
          Target acquisition.
          ON THE MONITOR the silver roof unmoving in the desert.

          Right. Target acquisition. That's
          what we got here.

                         CUT TO:

          180 EXT. CONVOY - DAY 180

          Nasir's children are laughing as sheep pass. The parents
          are laughing, too. PAN and find Bryan watching them.
          Nasir's wife smiles kindly. Bryan opens the door for her.

          You guys should ride together.
          Nasir and Bryan exchange a glance then Nasir helps his
          wife into the vehicle. Bryan hands the baby up to them.

          181 INT. BRYAN'S VEHICLE - DAY 181

          Bryan looks out and sees a SHEPHERD showing his SON how
          to use the staff, tapping the sheep, guiding them.
          The convoy moves out, sheep like parted waters on either
          side of the highway, sheep closing behind as they pass.

                         CUT TO:






          182 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 182

          Bob speeds toward the sheep who are again blocking the
          road. He pulls up to them and honks. Nothing happens.
          SHEPHERDS on camels stare.
          He inches the car forward. Bob's SUV is steadily engulfed
          by sheep. Then he can't go any further. He forces the
          door open and gets out.

          183 EXT. SHEEP CROSSING - DAY 183

          Cacophonous sheep BELLS and sheep SOUNDS, hooves in sand.
          The sun is brutal. Bob climbs onto the hood.
          HIS POV ahead in the desert, beyond the sheep, of Prince
          Nasir's convoy is rapidly disappearing. And THE HIGHWAY
          CURVING to the right.

          184 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 184

          Bob slams the car into reverse and begins backing out of
          the sheep. It's slow going. Sheep getting bumped, BAAING
          loudly, as Bob reverses.

                         CUT TO:


          A metal plane, like a giant, grey insect, drifts silently
          above the earth. The horizon is bright and curved.
          The Predator has no pilots. The controls adjust on their
          own with robotic smoothness.

          186 INT./EXT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 186

          Bob gets free of the sheep. He turns off the highway and
          drives out into the desert, going around the giant flock,
          so that he can cut the convoy off at an angle.
          A wizened SHEPHERD on a camel watches the SUV go. The
          watering trucks continue SWISH, SWISH, SWISHING.

                         CUT TO:

          187 INT. HELLFIRE BAY - DAY 187

          The bay where two Hellfire missiles wait. The hatch
          begins opening.







                         187 CONTINUED: 187
          The desert floor appears far below, just a blank canvas,
          the details out of reach of human eyes.

                         CUT TO:

          188 INT. PRINCE NASIR'S HUMMER - DAY 188

          The baby is SCREAMING and a child can't get its juice box
          to fit in the Hummer cup holder. The square corner hits
          the circular opening. And again. And again.
          Nasir's wife readies a bottle.
          The child slams the juice box. Nasir reaches and fits the
          juice box in the holder. The baby keeps screaming.

                         CUT TO:


          Laughter fills the room at a sumptuous awards dinner. SIR
          DAVID has white hair and a black bow tie.

                         SIR DAVID
          I would like to say, in making our
          selection of the recipient of this
          award, John Brown can't win every
          year. It would be like Formula One
          with Schumacher and Ferrari
          winning over and over. And I don't
          need to tell you whose fuel
          they're using.
          Faces in the crowd, eating and laughing --

          SIR DAVID (CONT'D)
          This is not to crown a career.
          You're a young man and, unlike me,
          have many years of toil ahead of
          you. This year's oilman of the
          Year, Mr. Leland Janus of Connex-
          The crowd gives LELAND "LEE" JANUS a standing ovation as
          he walks to the podium. All the big oil companies have
          tables. Bennett Holiday is next to Dean Whiting.
          Mr. Janus shakes hands with Sir David and accepts an
          engraved crystal oil derrick.

          MR. JANUS
          Thank you, Sir David. Thank you.









                         189 CONTINUED: 189

           MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          It's not a secret vote, so we can
          see who is voting for themselves.
          It's all right to vote for
          yourself. I did not vote for
          The rapt faces of oil men listening to an oil man.

          MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          I voted this year, as I do every
          year, for Ali Naimi, the Saudi Oil
          Minister, who has done more for
          shareholder value than all of us
          Laughter as a smiling SAUDI accepts a round of applause.

          MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          And that is certainly not a
          criticism of any of us in this
          room. My father told me when I was
          young, never criticize a man until
          you have walked a mile in his
          shoes. This is something I've
          tried to live by, because, if you
          do criticize, you're already a
          mile away and you've got his
          LAUGHTER, people glancing... who knew he was so funny?

                         CUT TO:

          190 INT. HELLFIRE BAY - DAY 190

          A missile shifts, rolling sideways, a slow mechanical
          movement of impersonal machinery...
          And then one of the HELLFIRE MISSILES silently drops and
          falls rapidly away from the plane.

                         CUT TO:

          191 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 191

          Bob races across the white desert.
          Ahead, through the windshield, the convoy angles along
          the highway.

                         CUT TO:






          192 EXT. FISHING BOAT - DAY 192

          Fire boats shoot water in the distance. As Wasim makes
          his way to the prow of the boat, slowly. the huge LNG
          tanker slides into frame, filling the sky.
          The name -- THE CONDOLEEZA RICE -- appears.
          Wasim pushes fishing nets aside, revealing a stinger
          missile fashioned into a shaped charge and fitted to the
          prow of the boat.

          A SMILEY FACE
          scratched into the surface of the Stinger, the same
          missile Bob intended to explode in the beginning.

                         CUT TO:

          193 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 193

          Bob is closing on the front of the convoy, maybe a
          hundred yards off. He can see Prince Nasir. He pulls a
          WHITE SHIRT from the backseat and starts waving it out
          the window.

                         CUT TO:

          194 INT. CIA TASK FORCE BUNKER - NIGHT 194

          People stare at the monitors, tense and restless.

          ANGLE - MONITOR
          The toy-like convoy snakes across the desert.

          FRANKS (O.S.)
          Somebody tell me what the hell is
          going on.

          WILLY (O.S.)
          The plane is just really high. And
          there's delay on the video

                         TRANSMISSION --

          How long?

          I don't know. I can find out. I
          think from Yemen to here was like
          four or five seconds.

                         CUT TO:






          195 INT. BRYAN'S VEHICLE - DAY 195

          Bryan stares ahead. His POV up the length of the convoy.
          The HUM of the highway. He turns and sees, out the
          window, the Mitsubishi SUV cutting toward them.

                         CUT TO:

          196 INT. CIA TASK FORCE BUNKER - NIGHT 196

          ANGLE - MONITOR
          The toy-like convoy snakes across the desert. Another car
          enters the frame, angling toward the convoy.

          FRANKS (O.S.)
          What's that other car?

                         CUT TO:

          197 INT. PRINCE NASIR'S HUMMER - DAY 197

          The SCREAMING baby takes the bottle and quiets. Prince
          Nasir makes eye contact with his wife and smiles.
          A bodyguard in the front hears something over the radio
          and points out to the desert --
          Nasir turns and looks at Bob's car fast approaching --

                         CUT TO:

          198 INT. MITSUBISHI SUV - DAY 198

          Bob angles the car in tighter, waving the white flag.
          Nasir's bodyguards point their weapons.

                         CUT TO:

          199 INT. PRINCE NASIR'S HUMMER - DAY 199

          Prince Nasir sees him. They make eye contact --
          A bodyguard begins shouting into a walkie-talkie. Other
          vehicles race forward and surround Bob's car, forcing it
          to stop.

          200 EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - DAY 200

          Soldiers with their weapons on Bob. He steps from his car
          holding the white shirt in front of him.







                         200 CONTINUED: 200

          It's okay. It's okay.
          Bob slowly. approaches Prince Nasir's vehicle. They stare
          at one another. Nasir lowers his window.

                         PRINCE NASIR
          I remember you. You're the
          Tight on Bob. He starts to speak --

          A WHITE FLASH

          MATCH CUT TO:

          201 INT. CIA TASK FORCE BUNKER - NIGHT 201

          ANGLE - MONITOR
          A TINY POOF of white smoke. And vehicles scatter in crazy
          directions. Then a rush of black smoke.

          ANGLE - THE ROOM
          The crowd of Chiefs and Technicians erupts into
          celebration, handshakes and high-fives.

          ANGLE - MONITOR
          The tendril of black smoke is spreading into a black
          cloud. The vehicles are stopped.

                         CUT TO:


          The room is silent. Mr. Janus stares into the crowd.

          MR. JANUS
          I accept this award on behalf of
          the employees of Connex-Killeen,
          our people, the finest in the

          Guys, could I get you to stand up
          for a moment?
          At the CONNEX table, Tommy and Jimmy and the others get
          to their feet. The crowd APPLAUDS. Bennett applauds Jimmy
          who sees him clapping and applauds him right back --

                         CUT TO:






          203 EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - DAY 203

          The Prince Nasir convoy is scattered like toys. People
          broken with shock and awe.
          Debris is still falling. Find Bryan moving forward
          through smoke and overturned vehicles, the only sound the
          BUZZING/RINGING in his ears.
          Bryan's POV of a burning crater in the road. Nasir's car
          and family are completely incinerated. And nearby Bob's
          car is a massive ball of flame.

                         CUT TO:


          Mr. Janus'holds out his hands to still APPLAUSE.

          MR. JANUS
          I want to thank our strategic
          friends from around the globe who
          are here tonight.
          More APPLAUSE. Emir Meshal Al-Subaai gives a little wave
          to both sides of the room.

          MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          I hope I'm not giving away trade
          secrets when I say Liquefied
          Natural Gas truly is the fuel of
          the future.
          Mr. Janus raises his crystal derrick in a toast.

          MR. JANUS (CONT'D)
          And to everyone else who helps
          make this the most exciting and
          important and profitable industry
          on earth.
          The crowd again begins CLAPPING for itself. Light catches
          the crystal oil derrick and refracts --

                         CUT TO:

          205 EXT. DESERT - DAY 205

          Bryan staggers away. We're ON HIS BACK as he slogs, then

          WE COME AROUND...
          Bryan's face is TIGHT in half the frame while behind him
          the wreckage and people and smoke trail away.







                         205 CONTINUED: 205
          Bryan wipes at a tear, and another. Then suddenly, he's
          weeping, losing it completely. He stumbles blindly on.
          Bryan wanders through the desert, a hazy form merging
          with the heat shimmering horizon.

                         CUT TO:

          206 EXT. FISHING BOAT - DAY 206

          Tight on Farooq's eyes. Farooq is terrified. He stares at
          Wasim who is watching the tanker where workers and
          touring dignitaries pay no attention.
          On another boat a father and son fishermen going about
          their business. The father smiles briefly at Wasim.
          Wasim sees that Farooq is frozen. Wasim shouts at him in
          Urdu. Farooq hesitates a moment longer, then his hand
          pushes the throttle forward.
          The dhow accelerates, breaking free of the flotilla,
          heading straight for the CONDOLEEZA RICE (LNG CARRIER).
          At the bowsprit, Wasim has the wind and sunlight and
          spray in his face.
          WASIM'S POV of the CONTAINMENT BUBBLES which have a
          covering of frozen, sparkling condensate and look exactly
          On Wasim's face a slow, almost beatific smile begins to
          spread. He seems completely at peace as he passes into
          the shadow of the tanker.
          On the CONDOLEEZA RICE sailors become alarmed, running in
          different directions, but it's too late
          The little boat speeds for the side of the tanker and
          just as it makes impact --

          CUT TO WHITE:

                         FADE IN:

          207 EXT. MADRASSA - DAY 207

          Sprinklers water a green field in the middle of a desert.

          208 EXT. WASIM'S VIDEOTAPED "WILL" - DAY 208

          Wasim appears against a plain background. He looks very
          young. He addresses the camera.







                         208 CONTINUED: 208

          During the funeral I want everyone
          to be quiet. And I should be lying
          on my right side.

          209 INT. WOODMAN HOUSE - USA - DAY 209

          Riley plays with a Thomas Train set. Julie reads in a
          comfortable chair. Packing boxes are still unopened.

          WASIM (V.0.)

          You should throw dust on my body
          three times while saying, from the
          dust we created you and to dust
          you will return.
          Riley sees his mother looking past him. He turns, sees
          his father, and runs toward him. Bryan gathers his son up
          in his arms.

          WASIM (V.0.) (CONT'D)
          From the dust a new person will be
          Bryan looks through the rooms at his wife who has taken a
          few steps toward him. She hesitates --

                         CUT TO:

          210 INT. BOB'S OFFICE - CIA - DAY 210

          A MAN cleans out Bob's office, putting files into boxes.
          Another MAN puts photos into a box.

          ANGLE - PHOTO
          BOB WITH A FRIEND, smiling. Another photo of BOB WITH
          COWORKERS is placed on top.
          Tighter on this picture of Bob --

          WASIM (V.0.)

          Everyone should mention that I
          died pure of heart and that the
          next world is the true life...

                         CUT TO:

          211 EXT. BENNETT'S CONDO - D.C. - NIGHT 211

          Bennett gets out of a cab. His father is slumped over on
          the front stoop.







                         211 CONTINUED: 211

          WASIM (V.0.)
          .The next world is the true
          Bennett walks up the steps and pauses beside his father.


          Come on, man. Come on... Leave the
          His father rouses. Bennett helps him inside and the door
          shuts behind them.

          CUT TO BLACK:

                         THE END


Writers :   Stephen Gaghan  Robert Baer
Genres :   Drama  Thriller

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