Hoped for/ideal cast:
Jean Connelly: Bryce Dallas Howard
Stanley Balto: Denzel Washington
Wolfram Smidgen: James McAvoy
Vera: Kate McKinnon
President Lang: Bryan Cranston
White House Press Room, the seats are filled, journalists, cameras, the podium stands alone on the platform. Wolfram steps into the frame and rests his hands on the podium, looking out over the crowded room.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’d like to give a brief statement in order to clarify to some extent the truth, regarding the allegations surrounding the President’s decision to pass laws restricting the sale and distribution of certain firearms. The notion that anyone in this administration has worked in conjunction with KESG (pronounced key-sig), accepted funding from any terrorist organization, or granted them any measure of influence in shaping our domestic or foreign policy, is outrageous. The Koreston shooting was the last straw, and while he has been quiet about this issue until now, President Lang intends to complete the work of implementing responsible gun regulations by the end of next year—in spite of the swarming cloud of unfounded theories obstructing that work right now. Whether or not members of KESG or other terror groups would benefit from such laws being passed in the United States is simply irrelevant. The questions we should be asking are, “Will this legislation be good for Americans?” “How likely is it that this legislation will contribute to a safer more peaceful homeland?” “What should we do to facilitate tranquility, prosperity, and wellness for future generations?”
Looks down at notes.
We need to focus on goals that align with the true values of this nation, and not on unsubstantiated conspiracy theories. Thank you for your time.
He walks off the platform and exits the room to an uproar of questions and flashing cameras.
Inside a gun/army surplus/survival store, the camera moves past a wall with hunting rifles, assault rifles, and shotguns mounted and leaning against it, then curves left and down, moving over a long glass counter and a row of dozens of handguns, then turns left and up, passing boxes of ammunition, kevlar vests, various targets, and other supplies, then curves left again, completing a spiral, and settling on Jean, a cameraman, and an employee who is speaking.
I take it shooting maybe two, three times a month. She’s a beautiful weapon, the ACR.
Do you ever use it for hunting?
Hunting with automatic weapons is illegal in the State of Alabama. No, I fire that gun at the rifle range, strictly at the rifle range.
How many guns do you have, total, if you don’t mind saying?
Thinks for a few seconds.
Twenty-five—no, there’s the five-shot Remington, the cross bow… Do cross bows count?
No, just firearms.
What would you say to people who want to make selling certain types of firearms illegal?
Looks silently at her for a moment.
I’d tell ‘em I’ve got a Constitutional right to keep and bear arms, and that’s a right our Forefathers guaranteed to protect us from tyrannous governments. It’s a right I hold near and dear.
Medium close-up on Jean nodding.
Jean and two crew members driving down a street in an SUV, through a residential area of Alabama, past houses and cars and people every so often, working in their yards or walking on the sidewalk. Silence inside the car. They pull up to a hotel in a fairly nice area of the town, and Jean gets out at the front entrance, while the other two drive off to park.
She enters her hotel room, sets her backpack on a chair by the door, and walks over to the mini-fridge. She takes a bar of chocolate and small bottle of brandy out, and sits in a chair by the glass door. Medium-close shot of her leaning back in her chair, tipping the front chair legs off the floor, eating the chocolate, and staring out the window.
Jean jogs along streets and paths in Tuscaloosa, while listening to Modest Mouse’s, “Missed the Boat,” on headphones. We see different scenic views of the town in the early evening. She returns to the hotel and meets her crew in the lobby.
You two look handsome. Where ya off to?
Remy wants to check out the karaoke bar up the street. You want to go?
No, I’m kind of tired.
Somewhere, beyond the sea… Somewhere, waiting for me… My lover stands—
Starts walking away.
Hate to miss that.
Television screen showing Adnan as a child, swinging a plastic bat as his dad pitches tennis balls to him in a small backyard. The video camera bounces and drifts slightly, and his mother says, “Good hit, Addie!” when he hits a ball, and starts to run the imaginary bases. Next on the screen, the camera approaches his mother in the kitchen of their home, as she prepares Chicken Shawarma Kabobs and rice, and we hear Adnan’s voice:
And here is my beautiful mother, making my favorite dinner, chicken shawarma.
He zooms in on the line of kabobs on the stovetop, then back out at his mom.
Pose for the camera, Mama.
Go away, Adnan, I am busy.
She pushes the camera away.
Next on the screen, an indoor skating rink where middle schoolers are playing roller hockey.
From behind the camera in the stands, as Adnan steals the puck and breaks away toward the goal.
Go, Son, go!
He takes a shot and misses wide, the fans jump in their seats and settle down again.
Mr. Mizreb pays for the stack of DVD’s at the front counter, takes his credit card and receipt, and leaves with the stack in his hands. It is morning. As he approaches the corner of a gray brick building, a man on the other side of the street starts crossing towards him. We see Mr. Mizreb walking down the sidewalk, beyond the shooter’s back, about forty feet away. He sees him and keeps walking, the shooter draws a black handgun, Mr. Mizreb sees it and drops the DVD’s and raises his hands. The shooter fires a bullet into his heart, but Mr. Mizreb manages to turn and start running. The shooter fires a bullet into his right shoulder blade, and he falls forward and sideways against the gray brick wall. He looks up, dazed, at the shooter. Close-up of the gun in profile as it fires one more bullet. Slow fade to black.
Jean and her crew load their bags into the SUV in front of the hotel. Her phone rings. She checks the name.
Hello, Ms. Connelly. Did you all leave yet?
Packing the car right now.
I need you back in D.C. Adnan’s father’s just been killed.
She closes the car door, looks up in disbelief.
* * *
Wolfram sits across the table from a beautiful woman in an elegant, dimly lit restaurant. As they silently finish eating their lunch entrées, he glances up at her and sips his wine. The door to his apartment opens and they enter, Wolfram first, then he closes and locks it behind her.
Would you like some more wine, I have—
The woman pushes him back against the door and kisses him. He lets her, but doesn’t reciprocate her enthusiasm.
Just a moment.
Stops kissing his neck.
Just… one second.
He places his keys and wallet in a bowl on the kitchen table, removes his jacket, and hangs it on the back of a chair.
Are you sure you don’t want another glass?
She walks slowly towards him, takes his tie in her hand, turns, and leads him through the living room and down the hall.
In his bedroom (still daytime), he sits propped up in bed with his laptop in front of him, while the woman sleeps naked beside him. On the screen is an article and photo of the corner where Mr. Mizreb was shot, a perimeter of yellow tape, crowded with police, journalists, and civilians.
In the Roosevelt Room, President Lang, Wolfram, two men in military uniforms, and a few others sit quietly at the table, while two Secret Service Agents stand beside the doors. Lang stands up and paces back and forth behind his chair, then stops and leans forward on the chair back, looking around at each person seated at the table. They continue waiting for a few seconds. A voice speaks from one of the laptops, which shows a mountain range in the desert.
The target has entered the red zone, sir.
Thank you, Captain.
He turns to look at the President.
Bows his head, closes his eyes for a moment, looks at the General, and nods.
Fire when ready, Captain.
A missile launches from a U.S. Military base in the desert, flies low through the air as the land rushes by below. The rocket accelerates over the low plain leading toward the mountain range several miles ahead, toward a cave-like opening at the foot of one of the mountains, a few vehicles and crates outside the entrance. The missile enters and detonates, fire erupts from the opening, followed by dust and falling boulders from above, sealing the cave shut. Silence, and the view of the mountain becomes the same image on the General’s laptop in the Roosevelt Room. He turns and nods to the President.
On his way out the door, Wolfram is accompanied by Lang, and they walk out through the White House together.
Thanks for your help today, Secretary Smidgen.
My pleasure, sir. I’ll have a statement drawn up for the evening report.
“Our battle is more full of names than yours,
Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
Then reason will our hearts should be as good.”
You think we should let Shakespeare handle our PR from now on?
I’m sure he’d refuse.
What should we do about Mosul?
Looks at him sternly for a second.
Tell the truth.
Jean and Vera on exercise bikes, sweating, in the back row of a crowded Spin class, and talking over the music (If possible, “You Shook Me All Night Long/Good Girl” Remix), with occasional interruptions from the instructor.
Two more months of this, my buns are gonna be rock hard.
You already have a great body. It’s me who needs to get in shape.
Okay, Ladies, let’s take it up out of the saddle.
She stands up on her bicycle, and the rest of the class does likewise.
Still on a flat road, we’re approaching our first hill.
Did you hear about Adnan Mizreb’s father?
Course. I haven’t isolated myself completely.
They’re saying it was a lone gunman, a guy who went crazy, and hates Muslims.
Well, his son was a terrorist.
Two, three, here we go. Find those glutes, wake ‘em up!
She dials up the resistance on her bike and starts pedaling faster.
I don’t think his dad had anything to do with the attack. I think it was all him, and his buddy, Jonathan.
That smokin’ little frat boy? They cleared him already.
Yes, they did.
Back in the saddle. We’re headin’ back to our jumps.
Sits down again.
Take it down, keep it here.
The rest of the class sits down and dials down the resistance on their bikes.
What about your big special report?
We have some more footage to get, but so far we’re on schedule.
Two, three, here we go. Up…
Stands up riding, class follows.
Sits down, class follows.
Stands up again, class follows.
* * *
Wolfram Smidgen in a park with the dome of the Capitol Building in the background. He’s talking on his cell phone.
Listening, composedly distressed.
Do you understand what’s happening? …The truth is coming to light. Lang’s accounts are being investigated by three different committees, as we speak… I hope to God they find no ties between them…
Listens, settling his eyes on the Capitol Building.
I’m telling you to wait.
Jean introduces the evening news from her desk in the studio.
Tonight on CDN Evening News, a bus carrying nineteen children and three adults, including the driver, overturned yesterday on a Maryland interstate, on its way to Washington D.C. for a field trip. Four students and one teacher have been hospitalized, and the teacher, Terry Isaacs, is in critical condition. Also, The Sound of Music heads to the Kennedy Center this week. Nathaniel Waterloo, who plays Captain Georg von Trapp stopped by CDN to talk about the upcoming production. But first…
Footage of a staggered line of brown and yellow ducklings waddling up a “duck ramp” at the Capitol Reflecting Pool.
Ducklings are in luck! Two new ramps have been installed at the U.S. Capitol Reflecting Pool to provide easier water access to families of ducks—and the ducklings have already figured out how to use the new amenity.
The ducklings turn and waddle toward the water, starting down the declined plank over the ledge. They slip and fall, sliding and splashing into the pool, as Jean talks.
Warmer weather has allowed for an increase in the pool’s duckling population, but its slanted edge was making it difficult for them to get back into the water.
Stanley approaches Jean as she’s removing her microphone after the broadcast.
Good show, lady.
Thank you, kind sir.
Cup of coffee, ten minutes?
They stand between two stone lions on the front steps of the CDN News studio.
Will the special be done in time to meet the new deadline?
Saturday’s the day.
Can Joe finish editing without you?
I trust him with it. Whether or not Smidgen’s people approve it is a different story.
Don’t worry about that. Listen, we need everything ready by the time that special airs. Mizreb’s death may be the start. We have to act before the earthquake gets worse.
You want me to go to Koreston?
Go, get what you need, and be back by Sunday. Who knows, your work might be what saved the world after all.
~ End of Part III ~