PRODIGAL SON FADE IN: EXT. APARTMENT (YEMEN) - DAY A squat apartment building on a bustling street in the coastal city of Al-Mukallah, Yemen. Overhead, what looks like a remote controlled airplane floats in the sky. From the bottom, a small camera seeks out its target. ZOOM Frame by frame - drapes open on an apartment window. A face appears - dark and bearded. INT. APARTMENT (YEMEN) - CONTINUOUS ALI HASSAN AL-SALAMEH, a dark skinned, heavy eyed, bearded fundamentalist, peers through the closed drapes out onto the streets. A small plume of smoke in the sky attracts his attention. His eyes widen as he realizes the RCA is actually a Hellfire drone - and the plume, the exhaust of a missile. His lips open to scream “Allah Akbar” - - but the missile beats him to the punch. CUT TO: INT. PENTAGON HALLWAY - EVENING A young MAJOR strides down a white tiled hallway, a thin file in one hand, and a very relieved look on his face. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - CONTINUOUS A PHOTOGRAPH Of ALI HASSAN AL-SALAMEH, captured in a moment of candor on some Arab street. AL-SALAMEH sits at the top of a pyramid of similar pictures that occupy the place of honor on one wall of an otherwise airless space somewhere deep in the bowels of the Pentagon. Dozens of the photos have been crossed out, X’d with a thick red marker. But AL-SALAMEH still lives. 2. And GENERAL TOM KITTLES, a hard-eyed Texan with 53 years on his body and one star on his collar, can’t take his eyes off his target. The rest of the office is not so much a personal space as it is an organized war room of computers and satellite imagery. The only eccentricity is an ornate, frilly, well used espresso machine on top of a small, bar refrigerator. No personal effects are anywhere to be found - no flags, no combat photographs, no pictures of men in uniform. No happy warriors. Just the dead, and those about to join them. MAJOR General Kittles. KITTLES (laconic drawl) Is he dead? The MAJOR takes a photograph out of the file. ALI HASSAN, amidst a pile of rubble, his body broken. MAJOR Confirmed, Sir. KITTLES takes a red Sharpie off his desk and crosses off the face of Ali Hassan Al-Salameh. KITTLES (to picture) May your 72 virgins all have syphilis, your murdering son of a bitch. KITTLES takes a step back, takes a breath. Takes in the rest of the pyramid. KITTLES (CONT’D) (pointed) Anyone pick up an Echo? MAJOR No, sir. KITTLES lips tense in frustration. KITTLES Keep listening. 3. EXT. FARM, RURAL MICHIGAN - EVENING The strong, wide back of Retired Colonel JOHN MARTIN (55) SINCLAIR, “Sink” to his friends. Imposing and martial, the kind of man you instinctively follow. He stands at attention in full dress uniform, laden with Unit patches, Special Forces Designations, medals and ribbons, speaking to his hastily assembled squad. SINK (lecturing) Gentleman. Six TEN-YEAR OLD BOYS in camouflage uniforms stand at attention. SINK (CONT’D) Like the great warriors of decades past, when the call to war was sounded, the brave stood forth to answer. You are the brave, gentlemen. You have answered that call. HAL LOWELL, mid-50’s, another ex-soldier in dress uniform with Sergeant’s bars, balances himself on crutches to keep a very heavily bandaged foot out off the mud. SINK (CONT’D) YOU, gentleman, are volunteers! You have CHOSEN to accept danger, CHOSEN to ignore risk... (points to HAL) ...CHOSEN to avenge this innocent, defenseless victim with the mighty hand of pre-pubescent terror. HAL rolls his eyes and spits. The BOYS stifle laughter. SINK (CONT’D) Now, this mission will not be without its perils, gentlemen. Your enemy is older than you. He is bigger than you. He is stronger than you. He has even been known to shave. And if you are captured, well...it is certain that his vengeance will be inflicted upon you before our vengeance can be returned upon him. 4. HAL Jesus fucking Christ, Sink, tell `em to go egg the fucker’s car already! The BOYS laugh. SINK jumps on them like a Drill Sergeant at Boot Camp. SINK Why are you laughing, Sergeant! SERGEANT Sir, there’s no excuse for my laughing, sir! SINK Did I say something funny? SERGEANT Sir, the Colonel said nothing funny, sir! SINK Is your squad prepared and ready for battle? SERGEANT Sir, the squad is prepared and ready for battle, sir! SINK Present arms, Sergeant. SERGEANT Sir, yes, sir! Squad! Present Arms! The BOYS immediately hold out their weapons. A carton of eggs, a box of rotten tomatoes, sugar and a funnel. One boy holds a box full of balloons. SINK catches a whiff. SINK And just what are you armed with, soldier? BOY Sir, these are bleach bombs, sir! My dad says they’ll wreak havoc on the primer coat. Sir! SINK That they will, son. That they will. SINK makes one last inspection of the line. 5. SINK (CONT’D) It’s time, Gentleman. May God be with you. And May God Bless the United States of America. SINK nods at HAL. HAL Sergeant, you are GO for Operation Just Fury. SERGEANT Sir, yes, sir! Squad - move out! The boys go running toward a station wagon idling by the road. HAL Shit, sir, you’d talked like that in the jungle, we’d never have gotten around to the war. SINK looks at HAL with a sly smile spreading across his face. SINK Flaming bag of shit on the porch? HAL (glares) I got first degree burns here, sir. Little prick must have mixed in some Sterno. SINK Country napalm. Inventive. HAL turns, starts hobbling toward SINK’s SUV. SINK (CONT’D) Did Lark actually ring your doorbell, or did you just smell the fumes and go running? HAL Kiss my ass, sir. HAL manages to light a cigarette with a match and tosses it into the field. It hits a cow-chip and bursts into flames. SINK lets loose a laugh. HAL (CONT’D) I hate that fucking kid. 6. I/E. KENT’S TRUCK, THE VETERAN’S BAR - NIGHT A hole in the wall bar off a dirt country road. A huge American flag flies overhead. The parking lot is full of rural, working class vehicles, Jeeps, Trucks and Vans, all boasting a motley collection of bumper stickers extolling God, gun-owners and veterans. CHARLES KENT (55), and his son TYLER (23), sit in the front cab of a pick-up truck, staring at the door of the bar, each preparing himself to go in. Both wear dress uniforms with sergeant’s bars, but from two different eras. A SILVER STAR is pinned to TYLER’s chest. A cane lies on the floor next to his seat. TYLER Not sure I belong in there. CHARLES squeezes his shoulder. CHARLES Second proudest moment of my life was the first time I walked you into that bar, son. This is the first. Both men open their doors. TYLER slowly lowers his legs to the ground, and uses the cane to help him walk on a mangled right leg. INT. VETERAN’S BAR - MOMENTS LATER CHARLES holds open the door for his son. TYLER limps in, sees all the men of the town waiting for him. Every one wears a dress uniform from the different services - Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines, all with their medals and honors displayed. SINK, the ranking officer, steps to the front. Nods at HAL, the ranking enlisted man. HAL Squad! Atten-hut! As one, SINK and the men of the town salute TYLER KENT. TYLER switches the cane to his left hand to return the salute. SINK steps forward and shakes the younger man’s hand. SINK Well done, Sergeant Kent. 7. One by one, each man shakes TYLER’s hand. SINK slides over to CHARLES, beaming with pride at his son. SINK (CONT’D) He doing all right? CHARLES Never better. But SINK knows different, can see something in TYLER’s eyes, something sad, something missing. Last in line, HAL hobbles up to shake TYLER’s hand. HAL Welcome home, son. TYLER Thank you, sir. What happened to your foot? HAL’s smile disappears. MAN 1 Fell for the flaming bag of shit on the porch trick again! The MEN laugh. TYLER stifles a chuckle. HAL I outrank you, Sergeant. TYLER Yes, sir. (serious) How bad’s the burn? HAL Second degree. SINK Was first degree an hour ago. HAL Hurts more now. TYLER You know, they probably mixed in some Sterno. The campfire gel? HAL throws SINK a look that says, “see?” TYLER (CONT’D) Old trick Jordie came up with. Makes it burn hotter, burn twice as long. 8. TYLER realizes he’s fallen into a black hole of silence - it dawns on him what he just said, who he just mentioned - and remembers how off limits the subject of SINK’s son remains. SINK Sergeant Kent. It’s time you do what you came here to do. MAN 1 Here, here! TYLER hobbles over to a far wall, where three collages of photographs depict men in uniform. The first, and smallest, are the men of the town who are IN the service. The second, and middle sized group, is of the men who DIED in the service. And the third group are the men who made it OUT of the service - alive. TYLER finds his picture from the first collage, and pulls it off the wall. He slides a few steps to his right, stopping in front of the dead. Takes a step back, stands and salutes. And the men salute with him. And finally, slides over to the final group, finds a place on the wall, and places himself with the survivors. SINK Raise your glasses, gentlemen. To all our boys serving our nation, praying at night to come home. To all our proud soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice and will never come home. But most of all, to Staff Sergeant Tyler Kent - Welcome Home! CROWD Welcome home! Everyone drinks. INT. VETERAN’S BAR - NIGHT The crowd has thinned some. TYLER sits at a table loaded with empty glasses and bottles, absently rubbing at his right leg, and telling his story. 9. TYLER Platoon Sergeant was riding lead when the IED nailed the first Humvee. Doubt the poor bastards ever knew what hit him, you know? It was just BOOM! - and then they weren’t there anymore. Second Humvee caught part of the blast, spun off the road. MAN 2 Where were you? TYLER Third Humvee, riding shotgun. So we stopped, formed our perimeter, tried to recover out wounded, pick up our dead and get the hell out of there, right? But then we start taking fire, and we realize, we’re stuck in a crossfire. HAL Classic ambush. TYLER stares into the faces of the older men - they know what he means, know the story even as he’s telling it. TYLER So we find cover best we can, return fire - then out of the blue our asshole Second Lieutenant starts yelling on the radio that we gotta pull back... (to himself) ...that dumb motherfucker. MAN 3 Officers. (to SINK) Present company excluded, sir. TYLER So I get on the radio and tell him, we got wounded ten feet in front of us that we can’t quite get to and he needs to send up a squad to give us a hand, and he says...he says...he says, “pull your men back, Sergeant. 10. TYLER(CONT'D) We’ll regroup and come back for the wounded.” And I’m watching PFC Little try to plug his own chest wound, PFC Rodriquez’s got shrapnel in his back and can’t move, and this - OFFICER - is telling me to leave my own guys and run back to Momma. MAN 4 Jesus fucking Christ. MAN 3 No balls, man. No wonder we’re losing. That’s a sore subject. MAN 1 We ain’t losing shit. MAN 3 I know, I’m just saying - MAN 1 - I’m just saying, we ain’t losing shit! SINK Gentlemen. His tone ends the argument. CHARLES Tyler. Tell the men what you said. TYLER smiles, shy with pride. TYLER I got on that radio, and I said, “LT, you pull back and go fuck yourself, I’ll stay here with my men. You go find your balls, then you come back and get us.” HAL Bet they didn’t put that down on your citation. The men all laugh. MAN 2 He ever come back? TYLER Four hours and six bullet wounds later. 11. TYLER pulls up his pants leg to show a mangled, scar laden, atrophied right calf. TYLER (CONT’D) Leg was exposed. Sniper chopped me down like a Christmas tree. TYLER shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. SINK Those other boys make it? TYLER Little bled out. Rodriquez, he made it. Paralyzed for life, but he made it. TYLER looks away, hiding tears, hiding guilt. SINK stands, waits for TYLER to meet his eyes. SINK Private Rodriquez has sixty more years cause of you. And you got that pretty little star on chest. I’d say that’s a pretty fair trade, wouldn’t you? The men murmur their agreement. TYLER He got a wheelchair, sir. I got a limp. You tell me, sir. How fair is that? EXT. VETERAN’S BAR - NIGHT TYLER leans against the brick wall of the bar, smoking a cigarette, trying to keep to himself. SINK walks outside, looking for him. TYLER (holds up smoke) Still hiding this from the old man. Crazy, huh? SINK You earned that smoke. SINK leans against the wall, watching the younger man, waiting him out. TYLER You ever think about going back in? 12. SINK smiles bitterly. SINK Some things just aren’t worth thinking about. TYLER Like being crippled? SINK Like being alone. You know why we love the Army? We always HAVE the army. When Helen found out about the cancer, I realized we’d been married for thirty years, and she’d been alone for twenty five of them. And in all that time, I’d never once been alone, Tyler, not even one day. Cause I always had the Army. And I always knew that when I died, the Army would be there for me. But Helen didn’t have the Army, Ty. She only had me. And her dying alone? That wasn’t gonna happen. So I left the Army. And I was there for her when she died. And now I’m alone. And that’s just the way things are. And its just not worth thinking about. TYLER pulls on his cigarette, thinking about that. TYLER One more good shot, sir, they’d have taken my leg. SINK You were lucky. TYLER The Army’ll take you back with one leg, sir. They’ll take you back with a prosthetic. But a cripple? (beat) This is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. This is the only thing I’m ever gonna be any good at. This is all that I’m ever gonna be, sir. A cripple in a uniform he can’t even wear anymore. (beat) One more bullet, sir, I’d still have my life. 13. SINK (angry) You want to feel sorry for yourself, you do it someplace else, cause in this town, you don’t have the right. You know how many of those men inside still carry metal around in their bodies? You ever take a good look at the faces of those boys on that middle wall?. You came with a limp. They came home in a box. TYLER looks away, almost ashamed. SINK (CONT’D) You are a soldier. Soldiers get hurt. Now you suck it up, and do them proud. SINK walks away. TYLER I’m not ready for this, Colonel. I won’t ever be. SINK Tyler. You got no choice. SINK walks back into the bar, leaving TYLER alone with the night. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MORNING Darkness outside the windows. An alarm clock rings. SINK immediately rises, turning it off. It reads - 5:30. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER SINK brushes his teeth, surrounded by the remnants of his wife - makeup and toiletries never discarded or moved, neatly organized around Sink’s razor and toothpaste. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER The dress uniform is folded neatly, the jacket draped over a chair. SINK pushes open a closet door - his one suit, and a half dozen uniforms occupy maybe two feet of space. The rest of the clothes belong to his wife. At the foot of a large canopied bed, SINK opens an old Army footlocker for a US ARMY T-shirt and shorts - the rest of his clothes sit inside, Army folded. 14. Its clear the rest of the furniture, closet space and drawers, aren’t for him, and never were. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER SINK stands in the kitchen drinking a glass of orange juice in continuous swallows. Refills the glass and downs that as well. And refills the glass one last time, downs that one, too. His wallet in his pocket, shoes on his feet, and SINK’s out the door, ready to run. EXT. SINK’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER SINK stretches out and warms up. His house is much larger than you’d expect, far larger than any of his neighbors. His lawn is mown to perfection and edged with exacting precision. The flower bed is blooming and weed free. EXT. TOWN - MOMENTS LATER SINK runs past the homes and shops of his still sleeping neighbors. Except for TYLER KENT. He’s awake, smoking, sitting on his father’s porch, rubbing the crippled leg stretched out in front of him. EXT. FARM ROAD, RURAL MICHIGAN - MORNING SINK runs at an easy pace, long, even strides, almost on cruise control, seeking distance, not speed. FARMERS wave and salute as he passes. The few commuters on the road that early honk in his honor. A rental car passes, slows, then keeps going. EXT. TOWN - MORNING SINK runs back into town, down Main Street, drawing salutes from his fellow vets and respectful nods from those who never served. Its clear that he’s a force in town, at the very top of the chain. 15. He passes a small house. BRIAN LARK, 16, sits on the porch with elbows on knees, staring in despair at the wreckage of the Mustang he’d spent the past six months restoring, now a hulking mass of rotten tomatoes, egg shells and stink bombs. The balloons did their work - the primer coat is blotted with bleached out circles. BRIAN’s eyes meet SINK’s. SINK offers a bitter, sarcastic salute and keeps running. INT. TOWN DINER - MOMENTS LATER A small town grease pit. Men in baseball caps and overalls sit down for their morning bacon and coffee, served by a waitress named IDA. SINK enters, bringing himself to a stop just inside the door. IDA Morning, Colonel. Like a ritual, IDA places a large glass of water on the counter. SINK drains it without stopping. SINK Thank you. IDA Usual? SINK Always. SINK walks the counter line, saying his “good mornings”, drawing a few salutes here and there, somehow missing the stranger in the Polo shirt sitting by the window. Who taunts SINK in a loud, clear voice. KITTLES Five miles in a buck 16? No wonder they kicked your sorry ass out of my Army. Instantly, all faces turn toward the stranger, SINK’s last, almost defiantly slow, knowing the voice and the face that goes with it. SINK Sorry to disappoint you - SIR - but its ten miles now. Five is for desk riding pussies. 16. KITTLES stands. They don’t know whether to salute, shake hands or embrace - so they do all three. KITTLES You look pretty good for a has been. SINK shares the old Army joke. SINK Well, I has to be something. What the hell are you doing here, sir? KITTLES I’m on official business. SINK’s heart skips a beat. SINK Meaning? KITTLES Meaning...I’m officially in the business of eating my breakfast. So why don’t you sit down and join me. SINK looks down - eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, hash browns, the whole deal. IDA brings over SINK’s breakfast - juice, sliced fruit and wheat toast. IDA You sitting here today, Colonel? SINK Yes, Ma’am. IDA pours more coffee for KITTLES. He adds cream and sugar. SINK (CONT’D) You ever meet an honest to God General before? IDA Can’t say as I have. SINK You ever wanted to? IDA Hell, you’re a Colonel. What more can a girl want? 17. IDA walks away. KITTLES watches her a moment, then takes in SINK’s food. KITTLES Whatever you have better not be contagious. SINK When are you expecting that heart attack, sir? My defibrillator needs batteries. HAL hobbles in, his face alight with joy. HAL You see what the boys did to that little shit’s Mustang? SINK Hal - HAL (talking over SINK) - take the prick a year to get the shit off the sides, be another year before the stink goes away... HAL finally sees KITTLES. And the look on SINK’s face that’s telling him to go away. HAL (CONT’D) ...I apologize, sir. I didn’t mean to intrude. KITTLES No bother. Tom Kittles. HAL Hal Lowell. I run the Colonel’s old business. KITTLES I run the Colonel’s old unit. Care for some breakfast? HAL throws a glance at SINK, sees the briefest shake of the head. HAL Thank you, sir, but I better be going. Nice meeting you. Sir. HAL hobbles out of the diner. KITTLES sees Hal’s foot, looks to SINK for explanation. 18. SINK Shit bomb. KITTLES Love you rural folks. SINK You’re from the Ozarks. KITTLES Yeah, but the high end. TYLER KENT enters with CHARLES. SINK nods. KITTLES follows his glance. SINK He’s one of ours. KITTLES gives him a look. SINK (CONT’D) Not ours ours, but ours. Just got home. KITTLES With a cane? SINK Took six bullets in the leg covering two buddies on a highway in Baghdad. Earned a Silver Star, a Purple Heart and a broken heart, all in the span of four hours. KITTLES leaves the booth. As SINK watches, KITTLES joins TYLER and leans in for a hushed conversation. At the end of it, TYLER pushes himself to his feet and salutes the man. KITTLES returns it. And SINK feels jealous. I/E. RENTAL CAR, TOWN - MORNING KITTLES and SINK drive back to Sink’s house. SINK What did you say to him? KITTLES Nothing you didn’t. 19. EXT. SINK’S HOUSE - MORNING KITTLES pulls in behind the SUV. They get out, KITTLES grabbing a thick manila envelope. KITTLES takes a look around. KITTLES (teasing) God Damn, Sink, Helen dies, and you let the place go to shit. Don’t know if I should call Better Homes and Gardens or Soldier of Fortune. SINK They’re perennials. Helen planted them. I just keep them going. KITTLES lights a cigarette, giving his friend the once over as they walk around to the back. KITTLES You still miss it, don’t you? SINK doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. SINK What’s your station now, sir? KITTLES Pentagon. One of those desk riding pussies you love so much. SINK Doing? KITTLES Technically - I report to JSOC. SINK Why aren’t you running JSOC? KITTLES shrugs. SINK (CONT’D) They passed you over? KITTLES We’re all on the same side, right? SINK’s disapproval stands out. 20. KITTLES (CONT’D) Shit, Sink, you had two years on me, but I had the star. Seniority ain’t everything. SINK stares a moment, challenging him. KITTLES (CONT’D) Let’s just say - I like what I’m doing. KITTLES draws on his smoke. SINK let’s it go. SINK I need a shower, sir. Make yourself comfortable. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MORNING KITTLES wanders around. The place is well furnished, impeccably clean. And very feminine, in the wall-paper and color schemes, designed for a woman who spends most of her time alone. But its the pictures that grab KITTLES’ attention. Frame after frame of Sink’s wife HELEN, dark haired and bright eyed, truly magnetic woman. Pictures of her alone, with SINK, through the years of their marriage, from bases all over the world, placed in every corner of the house. Almost like a shrine. INT. SINK’S HOUSE, BATHROOM - MORNING SINK wipes the steam off the mirror, stares at his own face like he’s putting himself up for inspection. Opens a small drawer under the sink. Pulls out a small chain, rolls it around in his hand. His dog tags. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MORNING SINK pours two cups of coffee, pours milk and sugar into one, leaves the other black, and carries them into the living room. KITTLES sips, frowns. KITTLES You need an espresso machine. 21. SINK (teasing) I’m not gonna ask, sir, and you’re not gonna tell. KITTLES (gestures at walls) I don’t see pictures of Jordie. SINK’s eyes go hard, flicker to the walls. They both stare. They both smile. They both strain. SINK You think about retirement? KITTLES I think about it. Think I’ll buy a twenty five footer, put her out on the Chesapeake and go fishing every day til I die. SINK Soon as the war’s over, right? KITTLES (serious) Sink, I think the last soldiers who’ll ever have known for sure they defeated their enemy will end up being our grandfathers. They had the Nazi’s, the Japs. Fucker’s surrendered, they got to go home. What’ve we had? Socialism. Communism. Now terrorism. I’m sick of fighting isms. How the hell do you know when you’ve beaten a suffix? SINK Well, you need another grammarian, you count me right in, cause I’ll blow those isms straight to hell for you, sir. KITTLES stares for a long, deflating minute. KITTLES Is that why you think that I’m here? Immediately, the excitement on SINK’s face deflates. KITTLES stands, goes toward the mantle, picks up a picture of HELEN and stares at it for a long minute. 22. KITTLES (CONT’D) I’m not here to ask you back in, Sink. SINK’s whole body feels the blow. KITTLES puts down the picture and turns. KITTLES (CONT’D) I’m here to tell you that Jordie is dead. KITTLES watches his friend closely, curious about his emotions, expecting, hoping, for sadness or grief. But SINK only feels frustration as he gets up and walks out of the house. EXT. SINK’S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS KITTLES follows him into the backyard. KITTLES Sink - SINK - We’re fighting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, sir. We’ve got men in Korea, and Kosovo, and Colombia, the Philippines, God knows where else. And you came all this way just to talk about Jordan? KITTLES I have to, Sink. It’s my duty. SINK We’re fighting a Special Ops war, sir. I’m a Special Ops vet. The Army needs guys like me. You need guys like me. KITTLES God damn it, Sink, listen to me. SINK Jordan is dead. I heard you the first time. So what? KITTLES (taken aback) You are one self centered son of a bitch, you know that? 23. SINK Self-centered? I retired cause my wife was dying - KITTLES - you want a fucking medal for that? SINK I want my life back, sir! I want...I... SINK’s voice fades off. KITTLES (beat) I can’t give your life back, Sink. But I can give you the truth about Jordie. SINK The truth? The truth is my son is a junkie. A useless, piece of shit junkie. Nothing you can say is more true than that. Sir. KITTLES can only shake his head. SINK (CONT’D) You came all this way to tell me he’s dead, you wasted your time. SINK starts back for the house. KITTLES snaps to attention. KITTLES Colonel John Martin Sinclair - retired. Sir! SINK turns around, slow, recognizing the formality as KITTLES steps toward him in martial gait. KITTLES (CONT’D) On behalf of the Secretary of Defense, I regret to inform you that your son, Captain Jordan Ellis Sinclair, was killed in action while on active duty. (sarcastic) The thoughts and prayers of a grateful nation are with you in your time of grief, you worthless son of a bitch. KITTLES turns and walks back into the house, leaving SINK in his wake. 24. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER SINK finds KITTLES in the living room. KITTLES tosses him the envelope. KITTLES Jordan Ellis Sinclair, 367569544. Born 6/12/73 to Helen Lincoln and 1st Lieutenant John Martin Sinclair, United States Army. GED, 1995. Bachelor’s Degree, University of South Carolina - Columbia, summa cum laude, political science and philosophy, 1999. Accepted ROTC, 1996. Commissioned 2nd Lieutenant, United States Army, May 1999. Advanced Infantry Training, 1999. Airborne Qualified, 2000. Ranger Qualified, 2001. KITTLES offers the file. SINK turns the pages - sees that many are blacked out. KITTLES (CONT’D) And after that, we start getting into places you’re not cleared to enter anymore. KITTLES lights up a cigarette, searches for something to use as an ashtray. KITTLES (CONT’D) That worthless, piece of shit junkie you turned your back on turned himself into a college graduate, a soldier, a patriot, an Officer in the United States Army, a husband, a father, and a better man than you or I will ever be. KITTLES finds a decorative vase on the mantle and ashes into it while staring at the photos on the mantle and wall. KITTLES (CONT’D) You think he’s worth a picture now? SINK reads a page with recognition. SINK We served two years together, and didn’t even know it. 25. KITTLES He knew it, Sink. Jordie knew. I knew, Helen knew. Helen knew all of it. It’s actually rather funny, Sink. You spent the better part of your life working intelligence in every third world shit hole on Earth, but couldn’t figure out your own son was serving a mile away from you on the other side of Fort Bragg. KITTLES pours two drinks, hands one to SINK. KITTLES (CONT’D) You kicked him out, he was what, 17? SINK He was a junkie. KITTLES He was a kid, Sink. He was your kid. And he was, even then, a very good soldier. You told him to leave your house and never come back. A superior officer issued a direct order and that junkie son of yours followed it to the letter. What does that tell you? SINK (reeling) Helen should have told me. KITTLES Bullshit. Helen was a good wife, Sink. A good soldier’s wife. And a very good mother. She found a way to respect both her husband and her son. The same way her son found a way to respect both his mother and his father. Shit, Sink, the only one didn’t show any respect in all this was you. SINK Did he know about the cancer? That gives KITTLES pause. KITTLES Yes. SINK Then why didn’t Jordan come home? 26. KITTLES He couldn’t come home. SINK I would have let him. KITTLES The Army wouldn’t let him. We were six months past 9-11, Sink. What he was doing was far too important, and the places he was doing it in didn’t exactly feature nonstop air service back to the states. But he wanted to be here, Sink. I know he did. SINK starts to pace, not knowing what else to do. KITTLES (CONT’D) I know this is hard, Sink. You want to know when, where and how. I understand that. But you know how this works, Sink. Better than anyone. The questions you have, you know I can’t answer. So please do not ask. We’ve known each other too long for that. SINK nods, knows its true. KITTLES drains his drink and gets to his feet. KITTLES (CONT’D) I have a flight to catch. You keep your head down. KITTLES turns for the door. SINK I’m proud of him, sir. For the first time in my life, I’m proud of my son. KITTLES stops, turns back, trying to head off the next question. KITTLES You don’t have the right to be proud, Sink. Only sorry. KITTLES walks out, gets into his car and drives off. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - DAY SINK wanders, drinking Scotch. He looks at the pictures of HELEN on the mantle, at the pictures of himself. 27. And knows that KITTLES is right. There are none of his son. INT. SINK’S HOUSE, BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER SINK walks into his bedroom, and starts opening closet doors. Helen’s clothes still rest where they were, occupying most all the space. SINK opens drawers, the night stands, looking. Finally looks under the bed, and he finds it. A large cardboard box. Full of pictures of his son, as a baby, as an adolescent, as a teenager, stoned and Gothic. And of JORDIE in cap and gown, graduating from college. JORDIE in his dress uniform. And finally, JORDIE with his WIFE and his BABY. JORDIE with HELEN. Confused, SINK rummages through the night stand on his wife’s side of the bed, and finds her address book. He flips through it, page after page... ...until he finds an address for his son, in Fayetteville, North Carolina. INT. HARDWARE STORE - DAY SINK sits at a little stool behind the counter of a small town hardware store and lumberyard. HAL watches him from behind a large inventory book, stunned by the story he’s just been told. HAL Jesus. I mean, Christ, Sink. Jesus. SINK If you’d asked me this morning where Jordan was, I’d have said some shithole in Topeka. HAL If I had asked you this morning, you’d have said you don’t give a shit. 28. SINK He had a wife, Hal. He had a wife, and a son, and this whole life I never knew about. What kind of son is that? You’d think he’d at least call to brag, to rub my nose in it. (beat) Was I wrong, Hal? To do what I did? HAL doesn’t answer immediately. SINK (CONT’D) You know what Jordan was like, Hal. You know how out of control he was. Hell, you convinced me how out of control he was. HAL nods, acknowledging his role. SINK (CONT’D) What the hell would you have done different? HAL If he was my son? I’d have pulled him into my arms, told him I loved him, and begged him to go into rehab. SINK He would have refused. HAL Then I’d have grabbed him by the balls, told him I loved him, and thrown his sorry ass into rehab. But the last thing I’d ever do is throw away my own son. A little bell over the door rings. BRIAN LARK walks in with his father, GEORGE, another vet with a hard look on his face. GEORGE Colonel. Hal. SINK nods, watching the sullen teenager closely. HAL walks around the counter. HAL You got something to say to me, Brian? 29. BRIAN stares at the tile floor. GEORGE smacks him hard on the back of the head. BRIAN I’m sorry I left the dog shit burning on your porch, Mr. Lowell. It was wrong. I was wrong. I’ll fix any damage. HAL You saying all this cause you mean it, or cause you’re afraid you’re old man’s gonna take a belt to your ass? BRIAN I’m not afraid of him. GEORGE glares. SINK moves around the counter, stands unbearably close to BRIAN, making the shorter teenager look up. SINK You afraid of me, Brian? BRIAN doesn’t answer. SINK steps in even closer. SINK (CONT’D) I asked you a question, son. BRIAN glances at his father. GEORGE I were you, I’d answer the man. BRIAN (defiant) I’m not afraid - SINK’s hand grabs BRIAN by the throat. SINK You afraid of me now, you little prick? BRIAN tries to speak, tries to nod, can’t move his head. SINK (CONT’D) I asked you a question. HAL (harsh) Sink. SINK glances back, lessens the grip just a tad. 30. SINK Speak. BRIAN It was just a dumb prank, okay? I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry! HAL Let him go, sir. SINK lets him down. HAL hobbles around the counter and offers BRIAN his hand. HAL (CONT’D) All right, then. Apology accepted. GEORGE nods at SINK as he and his son head for the door. Then BRIAN stops on his own. BRIAN Mr. Lowell. I really didn’t mean for you to get hurt. HAL I know you didn’t. GEORGE and BRIAN exit. HAL looks at SINK for a long moment. HAL (CONT’D) My sons call me every other day. We go fishing every spring, golfing every summer, hunting every fall and skiing every winter. Ten years from now, how often you think that boy’s gonna call his old man? SINK takes a slow breath, getting the message. HAL (CONT’D) You asked my opinion. No, sir. You weren’t wrong. You did what you thought was best at the time and hoped it worked out in the end. And my guess, sir? You go down to North Carolina and introduce yourself to that daughter in law and grandson of yours, you just might see that it did. 31. INT. VETERAN’S BAR - DAY SINK sits at a table, drinking a beer, staring at the pictures of the soldier’s on the wall. At where his son should be.. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - DAY SINK packs for his trip, throwing clothes into a suitcase. Downstairs in the living room, the pictures on the mantle catch his eyes. He walks over, stares them down, choosing in his mind - first one of Helen alone, then another of her and Sink together. He adds them to the suitcase, locks the door behind him and walks out of the house. INT. BANK - DAY SINK signs a receipt form at the desk of a BANK TELLER. BANK TELLER Vacation, Colonel? SINK No. The BANK TELLER catches the tone and hands him a sealed envelope. BANK TELLER You have a safe trip, sir. I/E. SINK’S SUV, RURAL MICHIGAN - DAY SINK drives out of town, passing the farmland, eyes wondering what route JORDIE might have taken out of town. Passes a sign that says, “Airport - 62 miles” - and takes the exit. INT. AIRPORT BOOKSTORE - DAY SINK passes the time browsing through the paperbacks and magazines. 32. PA ANNOUNCER All passengers, flight 162, non- stop service to Charlotte is now boarding at gate 62. SINK heads for the gate. TWO YOUNG MEN in Uniform walk towards him. Even in civvies, he’s too military not to be recognized. The TWO MEN salute him as they pass. SINK can’t help but smile. And feel sad at the same time. INT. AIRPLANE - EVENING SINK flies first class, next to a well dressed PASSENGER reading the Wall Street Journal and shaking his head at every paragraph. PASSENGER What are you holding? SINK Excuse me? PASSENGER Your portfolio. What’ve you got? SINK Um. Mostly defense stocks. PASSENGER They working for you? SINK knocks on wood. The PASSENGER begins scanning the Dow Jones lists. PASSENGER (CONT’D) (impressed) War’s a helluva business. He glances around First-Class, realizes everyone seems like the guy sitting next to him. And that he fits in. INT. CHARLOTTE AIRPORT - EVENING SINK pays for his rental car, gets the keys from the ATTENDANT. ATTENDANT You’re all set, Mr. Sinclair. SINK Thank you. 33. ATTENDANT You know where you’re going? SINK All too well. SINK walks out of the airport. I/E. RENTAL CAR, NORTH CAROLINA - EVENING SINK makes the drive out to Fayetteville, home of Fort Bragg. Patriotic billboards line the highways. Cars and trucks fly flags from their windows. EXT. MOTEL - NIGHT SINK pulls the car into the parking lot of a motel. INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT SINK lies back on the bed, eating a sandwich off a paper plate and watching the news. The anchor announces the deaths of three more American soldiers. SINK turns off the TV, lies back, and thinks about what he’ll do tomorrow. I/E. RENTAL CAR, FORT BRAGG - MORNING SINK, in his best suit, stops at the gate of the famous Military base, home of so much of his training. Sees the MP’s at their posts, the buildings in the background. It feels like home. But not his anymore. SINK puts the car in gear and drives on. I/E. RENTAL CAR, NEIGHBORHOOD - MORNING SINK drives slowly through a small, suburb of quiet, tidy houses. It’s clear its a military neighborhood, full of ribbons, lawn signs, flags of all types and designations. SINK clutches a small piece of paper on his hand, checking the address of his destination against those of the houses he passes. Until he finally finds what he’s looking for. He pulls into a driveway behind a small sedan that’s clearly too many years old. The lawn needs mowing, the paint on the porch is chipped here and there. 34. In short, the house is missing a man. SINK gets out of the car, checks his reflection against the window of the car, adjusts his tie. Gathers himself. Grabs the envelope of pictures. And walks to the front door. His hand trembles as he knocks. ROBIN SINCLAIR, 31, answers the door holding the hand of JEMMY, her three year old son. Dark haired, dark eyed, a near mirror for HELEN. Looking at him with eyes that are neither surprised or displeased. And JEMMY, a cherubic face that mirrors his own, that once mirrored JORDIE’s. Sink can’t but think that this is what his family would have looked like if he’d been KIA. ROBIN Jemmy. Why don’t you say hello to your grandpa? JEMMY hides behind his mother’s leg. SINK Jemmy? ROBIN Short for John Martin. SINK finds himself overcome, has to physically force himself to speak. SINK Hi, Jemmy. I’m Sink. JEMMY just smiles, and curls around his mother. ROBIN I’m Robin. And you’re thirsty, so why don’t you come inside? INT. ROBIN’S HOME - MOMENTS LATER JEMMY sits on a booster chair, eating a snack. ROBIN watches as SINK downs a glass of orange juice. She immediately refills it. SINK Thank you, Ma’am. 35. ROBIN Thank me after the next one. SINK nearly chokes on the juice. ROBIN (CONT’D) Three glasses at a time, right? The orange doesn’t fall so far from the tree. SINK manages to finish the glass, waves off the refill. ROBIN shrugs, puts the juice in the refrigerator, sits down next to her son. SINK looks around. SINK You have a lovely home, Ma’am. ROBIN Thank you. JEMMY (plaintive) Mommy. ROBIN realizes he needs to use the bathroom. ROBIN We’re gonna need a minute. SINK Basic training. ROBIN Something like that. Why don’t you go look around. ROBIN carries JEMMY upstairs. SINK floats into a living room cluttered with toys and VCR tapes of cartoons. Family pictures line the walls, including a few of HELEN. SINK finds a small study - half office, half sewing room. SINK steps into the sewing side, neatly organized with a sewing tables, frames for cloth, design models. Framed pictures of ROBIN and the baby cover her side of the walls. SINK stares at a dress pattern, and several completed designs. ROBIN (CONT’D) Jordie made all that himself. 36. SINK (alarmed) Ma’am? ROBIN Don’t worry, Colonel. Your son couldn’t sew his own buttons if his life depended on it. She realizes what she said, sees SINK look away. ROBIN (CONT’D) I meant, he made all the furniture. By hand. The benches and tables. All of it. He designed it, he carved it, he stained it. SINK Impressive. ROBIN Jordie loved working with wood. He built himself his own little shop out in the garage. We used to say that when his tour was over, we’d open our own little company together, you know? Dresses and Dressers. That was his name for it. He even carved out a little sign for the window. SINK steps closer to the office side - a computer on a hand-carved desk, shelves of manuals, geography books, gun magazines. SINK How did you meet? ROBIN Ancient Civilizations, sophomore year. SINK In South Carolina? ROBIN nods. SINK (CONT’D) College sweethearts. SINK stares at a series of photographs stuck on JORDIE’s side of the wall. Most of JORDIE in uniform, in training, in action, in all parts of the world. 37. And in the center, a framed photograph of SINK. Right above the desk, where it would it be right in front of the eyes of his son. SINK forces himself to turn away. SINK (CONT’D) Ma’am. Could I please take a look at that wood-shop? INT. ROBIN’S HOME (GARAGE) - MOMENTS LATER A well organized workshop. Everything’s spotless, every tool in its place. Various pieces lie around the walls, pieces that will never be furnished. A wooden sign, “Dresses and Dressers” hangs on the wall. ROBIN Jordie had talent. A soft cry is heard in the house. ROBIN (CONT’D) Excuse me...I need to... SINK nods. ROBIN leaves SINK to stare at the detritus of his only son’s life. In the corner of the garage, he sees a series of metal tools by a large metal shed, guarded by a combination lock. SINK turns the dials to 61273. The lock doesn’t open. SINK thinks, tries 31102. It opens. SINK (to himself) God damn you, Jordan. SINK sees guns, custom made, hand tooled. SINK looks back, sees ROBIN watching him. SINK (CONT’D) March 11th, 2002. Day his mom died. SINK picks up one of the guns, examines it. SINK (CONT’D) This is really nice work. Better than the carpentry. In Special Forces, you - 38. ROBIN - please put that back. SINK catches the tone, part sad, part mad. Sees ROBIN fighting off tears. SINK puts the gun back. INT. ROBIN’S HOME - DAY ROBIN sips at her coffee. SINK twirls a cup in his hands. ROBIN Sir - SINK - Sink. Please. Call me Sink. ROBIN Then you better stop calling me Ma’am. Robin’ll do fine. SINK Jemmy was my nickname when I was a kid. Jordan ever tell you that? ROBIN Of course. SINK Hold old is he now? ROBIN Three and a half. SINK 9/11 baby. ROBIN blushes. SINK looks away. ROBIN We saw the towers fall. And we knew that we didn’t have that much time left together. SINK Did he get to see him at all? ROBIN Jordie was home for the birth. SINK That’s good. I was there for his. 39. ROBIN I know, Sink. He told me. SINK How long was he gone? ROBIN The first time he left was September 13th. Eight months later he was home for a month, then he was gone for two more. And then he came home and said that he’d been assigned to a new unit, and he was here training for a while. And after that, he’d be gone for a month or two, or three, and then back for a week, and then gone, and then back, and that’s just how it was. He never knew when he was leaving and he never knew how long he’d be gone. Mirroring SINK’s own career. SINK When was the last time you saw him? ROBIN Three months ago. He was home for five days. SINK I hope they were nice. ROBIN They were productive. Reproductive, actually. SINK watches her, sees happiness and sadness competing for space in her eyes. SINK Congratulations, Robin. ROBIN (slowly breaking down) You’d be surprised how much he talked about you. How much he loved you, how much he followed your career, tried to follow in your footsteps. Infantry, Airborne, Rangers, Special Forces. He thought of himself as your ghost, you know? 40. ROBIN(CONT'D) Always there, lurking behind you. Waiting for you to turn around, so he could yell “boo”, and give you that shit eating grin you used to tell him to wipe off his face. He died waiting for you to turn around, Sink. And you never did. Except the one time when you knew that he wouldn’t be here. ROBIN cries. SINK starts to reach out, stops himself. SINK Couple of days ago an old friend told me the son I abandoned and the man he became were two completely different people. I knew the son all too well, Robin. I never got a chance to meet the man. And now I have to live with that. ROBIN Then you’re the lucky one, Sink. Jordie won’t get that chance. SINK hands her the envelope of pictures. SINK I thought you might like these. I didn’t know if Jordan had pictures of his mother. ROBIN We do. We met several times when you were stationed down here. She was an incredible lady. I wish she’d gotten a chance to meet Jemmy. I think she’d have loved being a grandmother. It takes everything SINK has not crumble right then. He forces himself to stay focused on his mission, reaches into his pocket, takes out the bank envelope. SINK Then you know she’d want you to have this. Robin opens it, looks at the bank draft. ROBIN That’s a lot of money. SINK Just what I owe. 41. ROBIN You don’t owe me anything. SINK No. But I owe my son. And I owe my son’s mother. Please take the money, Robin. Please. It would make me feel a lot better. ROBIN hands the envelope back. ROBIN I’m not sure Jordie wants you to feel better, Sink. And his wishes come before yours. SINK Jordan would want his mother to feel better, Robin. And if he was here right now, Jordan would tell you his mother’s wishes come before everything. Probably the only thing we both knew for sure we had in common. (beat) Please take the money, Robin. Not for me. For his mother. ROBIN nods. ROBIN Thank you. SINK stands, gathers himself. SINK I do wish that we had met sooner. I do wish my wife had the chance meet Jemmy. And I do hope that one day, I get a chance to meet Jemmy’s brother or sister. ROBIN I hope so, too. SINK When Jemmy wakes up - ROBIN - I will. SINK takes a moment to gather his courage for his last task. 42. SINK If it’s all right with you, I’d like to visit the grave of a brave fallen soldier. And pay my respects to my son. ROBIN grows completely confused, realizing he doesn’t know. ROBIN Sink...they didn’t tell you? INT. PENTAGON HALLWAY - MORNING The MAJOR leads a well dressed SINK and better dressed ROBIN and JEMMY down the hall. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - MORNING KITTLES holds the phone to his ear, fuming as his eyes move from ROBIN and JEMMY to SINK, all sitting in front of him. The clock on the wall reads 9:15, DC time. The MAJOR waits patiently inside the door. KITTLES (into phone) Yes, sir. Right away. KITTLES hangs up, stares at SINK for a long moment. KITTLES (CONT’D) Major. Mind the store while I’m gone. MAJOR Yes, sir. KITTLES (to ROBIN) Ma’am. (hard) Sink. (softer) Follow me, please. INT. LOBBY AND OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF DEFENSE - MOMENTS LATER SINK and KITTLES continue their stare down as the group waits for the Secretary. Finally, an AIDE emerges from the office. 43. AIDE You can go in now. KITTLES leads the way. SECRETARY CONROY gets up from his desk to greet ROBIN. CONROY Mrs. Sinclair. Paul Conroy. Sorry to keep you waiting. And this must be..? ROBIN John Martin Sinclair. KITTLES glances at SINK. ROBIN (CONT’D) We call him Jemmy. CONROY Jemmy. Please, have a seat. CONROY shakes hands with SINK. CONROY (CONT’D) Colonel Sinclair. I must say I’ve been hearing a great deal about you over the last half an hour. SINK I appreciate you taking the time, Mr. Secretary. CONROY Yes. Well. A former Special Ops Commander puts the words “national security” and “national enquirer” into the same sentence and a few minutes out of an already overbooked day suddenly doesn’t seem like too much to ask. SINK Glad you agree. CONROY sits. SINK and KITTLES remain standing. CONROY (to ROBIN) Ma’am - SINK - if you don’t have his body, how sure are you that he’s dead? Seems to me that he’s MIA, not KIA. 44. CONROY sits back, regret all over his face. CONROY The circumstances surrounding his death - SINK - in lieu of his body, sir, I’ll take those circumstances. KITTLES You don’t have clearance, Sink. SINK You don’t have Jordan, sir. ROBIN Mr. Secretary. (to KITTLES) Sir. I don’t want to make any trouble for you or the Army. I just want to bury my husband. KITTLES Ma’am, I am sorry. But your husband is dead. SINK When, where and how? SINK glares. CONROY stares at SINK a moment, opens a file. CONROY West Point, Class of 1970. Airborne, Rangers, Special Ops. Psych Ops. Intelligence. Unit, Staff and Field Command. Vietnam, Lebanon, Panama, Iraq, Bosnia, Kosovo... SINK And a whole bunch of other places even you don’t get to read about, sir. You want me to drop and give you twenty? I can do `em one handed. CONROY puts down the file. CONROY You put in for retirement right before 9-11. 45. SINK My wife had cancer. Ovarian. CONROY I’m sorry. It’s awful. With flourish, CONROY turns to stare at a picture of his wife. CONROY (CONT’D) I’ve been there myself. SINK I know, sir. I read all about it during the campaign. CONROY’s stare turns to ice. ROBIN Mr. Secretary. I just want to know what happened to my husband. CONROY throws KITTLES a look, thinks for a moment. CONROY (to KITTLES) Two of you shared the same office? KITTLES nods. CONROY thinks for a moment, then makes his decision with a nod to KITTLES. CONROY (CONT’D) (to ROBIN) Mrs. Sinclair, I’m due at the White House twenty minutes from now. I’d be honored if you and Jemmy would join me. Give General Kittles and the Colonel a chance to catch up, give the President a chance to speak to you personally. ROBIN looks to SINK. ROBIN I’ve never met the President before. SINK I’ve met four of them. You go ahead. CONROY stands, shakes SINK’s hand. 46. CONROY Colonel Sink. SINK Mr. Secretary. CONROY leads ROBIN and JEMMY out of the office. KITTLES turns to SINK and grins. KITTLES Shit, Sink, you just keep making friends wherever you go. SINK Took a course at Carnegie Mellon, sir. Retirement sucks. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - MORNING KITTLES brews espresso, one ounce at a time, pouring them into a large coffee mug. SINK And to think you made fun of my gardening. KITTLES grins. KITTLES You know, every time I want a smoke now, I’m supposed to haul my ass all the way outside? SINK What can they do to you, sir? You don’t exist. How can you smoke? KITTLES smiles and lights up. SINK goes to the wall, eyes the pyramid of faces. KITTLES Shame you quit when you did, Sink. 9/11 changed all the rules. War’s kind of fun now. SINK It’s always fun behind a desk. Not always fun in the field. SINK’s mind begins to put together a story. 47. SINK (CONT’D) I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that you don’t actually report to JSOC. KITTLES smiles and shrugs. SINK (CONT’D) Fact, I’ll go out even further and say you don’t report to anyone. Except, maybe the Secretary, and the guy in the big White House at the other end of the street. KITTLES smiles, and lights up his cigarette. KITTLES You really miss it that much, don’t you, Sink? You want back in so bad, it’s oozing out of your pores. SINK doesn’t argue. KITTLES puts down his coffee and joins SINK at the wall, staring at the faces. KITTLES (CONT’D) Used to be, Sink, we shot the snake in the head and the rest of the snake just went off and died. Nowadays, he just grows a new head. We never stop shooting, he never stops growing. (beat) Official policy is that all terror suspects are to be delivered into the hands of American Justice. KITTLES holds out his own hands. KITTLES (CONT’D) Unofficially? Sometimes, those hands look just like these. And sometimes, those hands make mistakes. SINK You’re saying Jordan screwed up? KITTLES I’m saying, we made a mistake. KITTLES slaps a picture on the wall. KITTLES (CONT’D) (points) Ali Hassan Al-Salameh. 48. Palestinian by KITTLES(CONT'D) by birth, asshole choice. One of six brothers, all from Ramallah. Two in Israeli prisons for murder, two occupying key spots on Israel’s shit list and one bizarrely moderate, intellectual serving as Interior Minister for the Hamas controlled Palestinian Government. SINK And Ali Hassan? KITTLES Had designs to be the Ray Kroc of Islamic terrorism. Traveled the world trying to unite Hezbollah, Hamas, Abu Sayyaf, Ansar Al-Islam, the Uzbeks, the Indonesians and every other anti-American, anti- Israeli, anti-freedom jerk-off in the world under one banner and franchise cooperative terrorism all over the world. And the shit of it was, the little prick was making progress. (beat) Understand something, Sink. This sonofabitch needed to be dead, and any price we had to pay was worth it ten times over. SINK And that price was Jordan? KITTLES Jordie was one of mine, Sink. I gave him command of an 8 man squad designated ECHO Team 3, and Ali- Hassan was their baby. And as good as he was - and Jordie was very, very good - they never even got within a day of the bastard. So after a few months of chasing, Jordie came up with a plan. (loving the memory) God, what a plan, Sink. Simple. Elegant. Riskier than hell. You’d have been so proud of the kid. (smiles in appreciation) 49. KITTLES(CONT'D) One day Ali Hassan’s old man bit into a bad piece of fruit and dropped dead in front of his family. Day and a half later, Ali Hassan was back in Ramallah. CUT TO: EXT. ARAB RAMALLAH - EVENING A ghetto in the middle of a refugee state. Street markets bustle with poverty stricken patrons, shamed tourists, and aid workers. GUERILLAS openly roam the streets, machine guns on shoulders. KITTLES’ VOICE (V.O.) We could have just put a missile into his parent’s house and be done with it, but the Israeli’s would have been hung out to dry. So Jordie went old school, Sink. Just like you would have. Alone, an AMERICAN (1) floats down the street, a wide canvass vest draped over a thick barreled torso, sunglasses covering his eyes. A RED CROSS badge hangs from his neck. A small earpiece, like a hearing aid, is almost invisible, as is the microphone pinned to his shirt. KITTLES’ VOICE (V.O.) (CONT’D) Danger was, Al-Salameh was protected by Hafez Al-Shiri, Hamas’ top guy in the sector and probably their number one bad-ass. HAFEZ AL-SHIRI (35), fierce and devoted to Hamas, watches the American walk down the street. KITTLES’ VOICE (V.O.) (CONT’D) Al-Shiri’s so good at tagging Israeli’s they gave up trying to whack him. Jordie felt three days was the red line for the Op. I green lit the kill on day six. Two pretty girls pass by - He can’t help flirting - in this case, it’s literally part of his job description. AMERICAN 1 (teasing) Estana shoeya. Sho ismack? The girls giggle, and keep walking. A passing LOCAL gives the AMERICAN a pitying stare. 50. AMERICAN 1 (CONT’D) Probably sounds better in English. KITTLES’ VOICE (V.O.) Jordie split his team in half, took three guys and waited... The AMERICAN stops across the street from a small cafe where MEN smoke and drink coffee. BODYGUARDS stand outside, watchful and protective. The AMERICAN stops, lights a cigarette, watching. A MERCEDES pulls up in front of the cafe, waiting. ALI HASSAN AL-SALAMEH walks out of the cafe surrounded by PRETTY YOUNG GIRLS he seems to be flirting with. AMERICAN 1 (quietly) Infidel, nine o’clock. Amidst the shadows, a faint, red dot dances around SALAMEH’s back, trying to keep him in focus amidst the girls. For one heartbreaking moment, the dot falls across the neck of the teens. AMERICAN 1 (CONT’D) (to himself) Fuck, man, not the Cutie. SALAMEH finally stands still. The DOT finds its mark. Nobody hears the shot that drops SALAMEH to his knees. KITTLES’ VOICE (V.O.) ...and when the time came, Jordie gave the order and they shot that sonofabitch in the head. The second shot tears away the SALAMEH’s skull. AMERICAN 1 And one for good luck. The BODYGUARDS drag the CORPSE toward the Mercedes. The Street erupts in screams, gunfire, people running in all directions. The AMERICAN waits a beat, takes a final pull on the cigarette, and fades in with the crowd. CUT TO: 51. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - CONTINUOUS SINK continues to listen. KITTLES’ eyes glow with the memory. KITTLES Believe me, Sink. It was a beautiful kill. Textbook. (beat) Then Al-Shiri got involved. And it all went to hell. CUT TO: EXT. RAMALLAH - MOMENTS LATER The AMERICAN takes a side street, fading in with the LOCALS and TOURISTS all trying to figure out what the commotion is. Another AMERICAN (2), falls into lockstep beside him, carrying a small canvass bag. They pass a small market stand blasting music. AMERICAN 2 Hate fucking Techno. The TWO AMERICANS take another side street. See a THIRD AMERICAN, walking on the other side, carrying a long case. A BMW honks once. The doors open. The men get into the car, which fades into the traffic. I/E. BMW, RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS JORDAN SINCLAIR, 31, watches the passing foot traffic from behind the wheel of the car. JORDAN We good? AMERICAN 2 Golden. AMERICAN 1 (to AMERICAN 3) Dude, you came this close to hitting the cute one. AMERICAN 2 Which was the cute one? 52. AMERICAN 1 The brunette. AMERICAN 2 They’re all brunette. AMERICAN 1 Hell, they’re all cute. AMERICAN 3 Shit, man, I guess I’m lucky I remembered to shoot. JORDAN sees the tail before anybody else. JORDAN They’re on our ass, guys. JORDAN slams on the gas. The men jerk against the sudden change in speed, look out the windows, realize they’re being followed. One hand on the wheel, JORDAN hits the switch on a small transmitter. JORDAN (CONT’D) Echo 3 to Echo base, request immediate support for extraction from... AMERICAN 3 (screams) - JORDIE! Too late - the BMW is broad-sided by a truck - spins off the impact - slams into a building. CUT TO: INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - CONTINUOUS KITTLES hits stop on the cassette recorder. SINK Play that again. KITTLES Sink - SINK - Play that again. KITTLES rewinds. SINK listens to the dying words of his own son. 53. KITTLES Support was too far away. They never had a chance. CUT TO: EXT. ARAB RAMALLAH - MOMENTS LATER JORDAN comes to, forcing himself through his unconsciousness. Sirens blare everywhere. The passenger door lies open - AMERICAN 2’s on the ground a dozen feet away, crawling. AMERICANS 1 & 3 are still in the back, heads slumped back, dead. JORDIE manages to push open the door and falls to the ground. He starts to crawl, as the HAMAS GUYS from the tail car catch up. JORDIE looks over in time to see a HAMAS GUY shoot AMERICAN 2 point blank. And hears the men arguing in Arabic as their footsteps draw closer to him. JORDIE rolls over on his back, opens his eyes to bearded faces and lethal eyes, two gun barrels inches from his head.. JORDAN blacks out. CUT TO: INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - CONTINUOUS KITTLES lines four pictures up on his desk. One of the burned out BMW. One of each of three, blackened corpses. KITTLES The Hamas Government announced the deaths of three tourists involved in a car accident who died when their gas tank exploded on impact. Their Foreign Minister even called the Secretary of State to offer his condolences. State arranged for the return of the bodies. Autopsy showed that two of them died from broken necks sustained in the crash, the third was shot in the head. All the burns were post-mortem. We ran DNA, Sink. Jordie wasn’t one of `em. 54. SINK Who lit the fire? KITTLES The Israeli’s were first on the scene. One look at the guys and the gear...we’re assuming they covered for us. (beat) Sink, witnesses saw a fourth man being dragged into a vehicle and driven away. We know that fourth man was Jordie. Al-Shiri would not keep him alive, Sink. Those fuckers are crazy. They are not suicidal. SINK Except when their blowing up school buses. KITTLES In the Middle East, crazy and suicidal are relative terms. Al- Shiri killed Jordie and buried him in the desert, Sink. I’m sorry. KITTLES takes a breath, getting to the hard part. KITTLES (CONT’D) The real shit of it was, that same night, the top story on Al-Jazeera was the Israeli assassination of Palestinian Interior Minister Mukhtar Al-Salameh on the streets of Ramallah. The Israeli’s, of course, could neither confirm nor deny their involvement. SINK You got the wrong guy? KITTLES And the following day, Hamas suicide bombers killed twenty Israelis. KITTLES takes a photograph from his desk, holds it up next to ALI-HASSAN. They’re twins. KITTLES (CONT’D) Mukhtar. Ali-Hassan. CIA said they were born two years apart. SINK stares closely. 55. SINK Mukhtar had a mole. KITTLES Hard to see through a rifle scope from a half mile away when you don’t know the guy has a twin. KITTLES points to the Crossed out Face of ALI-HASSAN. KITTLES (CONT’D) Few days ago, Ali-Hassan was killed by a Hellfire missile fired into his safe-house in Al- Mukallah, Yemen. The United States, of course, could neither confirm nor deny their involvement. But the following day, Hamas formally petitioned the State Department to unfreeze some Palestinian assets. We politely agreed. SINK You’re letting Hamas blackmail you with my son’s body? y? KITTLES That surprise you? Jordie’s their chip in the game, Sink. As long as Hamas doesn’t ask for too much, we get to pretend we didn’t accidentally kill their Minister of the Interior, they get to pretend they didn’t accidentally kill four American soldiers, and all of us get to pretend we didn’t almost cause World War III in the Middle East. The only people getting screwed in this mess are the Israeli’s. SINK realizes the futility of the situation. And KITTLES can see it. KITTLES (CONT’D) Conroy spent twenty years in the Navy, Sink. They have a saying. Sooner or later, the corpse always floats to the surface. SINK Until he does, what do I tell his wife and son? 56. KITTLES You tell them, we all knew what were doing. And none of us, more so than Jordie. EXT. WASHINGTON DC - DAY SINK, ROBIN and JEMMY walk to a restaurant for lunch. SINK How was meeting the President? ROBIN He’s smaller than I expected. SINK They always are. INT. RESTAURANT - DAY SINK, ROBIN and JEMMY sit in a quiet corner. ROBIN’s face doubts the story SINK has recounted. ROBIN He died in a car wreck. SINK nods. ROBIN (CONT’D) The gas tank exploded, he got burned. SINK nods. ROBIN (CONT’D) And they can’t find his body and the whole thing is classified. Wow. If that don’t make all the sense in the world. SINK That’s the official version of events. ROBIN Then what’s the unofficial version? SINK shrugs. ROBIN turns away. 57. SINK We have a few hours before your flight, and I still have some friends in this town. Give me some time. ROBIN nods her agreement, and reaches into her purse. SINK (CONT’D) I got this. ROBIN Thank you. ROBIN picks up JEMMY and carries him out of the restaurant. SINK watches her get into a cab. As soon as she’s out of sight his face changes, determination replacing sympathy. He takes out his cell phone and dials a number from memory. SINK You remember this voice? (beat) Good. Let’s take a walk. EXT. VIETNAM WAR MEMORIAL - DAY SINK stares at a panel of names. SHARPER, fifties, sidles up next to him, dressed in a gray overcoat, eating an apple. SINK You either need to buy a tie with CIA printed down the front or start letting your wife pick out your clothes. DARREN throws the core of the apple away. SHARPER Since when did inter-agency cooperation includes retirees? SINK It doesn’t. SINK puts his hand against the wall, making his point. SINK (CONT’D) This does. SHARPER Sink - 58. SINK - You ever consider how close you came to having your name engraved on this wall, Sharper? You ever think about why it isn’t? SHARPER smiles despite himself. And surrenders. SHARPER I missed you, Sink. SINK I missed you, too. They start walking. SINK (CONT’D) Mukhtar Al-Salameh. SHARPER Jesus fucking Christ. SINK waits. SHARPER (CONT’D) He’s very, very dead. SINK And? SHARPER And, between you and me, I think the Israeli’s fucked up on that one. SINK Shit happens. SHARPER Yes, it does. SINK But not to the Israeli’s. SHARPER stops, leans in close, furious. SHARPER Look at my face, Sink. You do not want to finish that thought in my presence. 59. SINK Five older brothers, Sharper. Each one crazier than the next, each one preaching death and destruction, yet Mukhtar’s job’s to bring Hamas and the Israeli’s together. How’d that play during Thanksgiving dinner at the Al- Salameh household? SHARPER starts walking again, putting it together. SINK (CONT’D) You see what I’m saying here, Sharper? Maybe the calculus on who did what to who is all fucked up. And maybe its time someone with your influence and credentials, who owed his war buddy his very fucking life, went out of his way to try and correct the record. SHARPER thinks for a long moment. SHARPER Maybe it is. Who do you think might be interested? INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY SINK sits at a table with GAMAL ASSAD, an Egyptian bureaucrat in his forties, sipping dark Turkish coffee. GAMAL Our intelligence service isn’t worth shit, Sink. They told me you were retired. SINK I am. GAMAL So why am I wasting my time with you? SINK You miss me. GAMAL smiles. And waits. SINK (CONT’D) Mukhtar Al-Salameh. GAMAL sits back. 60. GAMAL The Egyptian Government thought very highly of Mukhtar. SINK And his brother? GAMAL We support all the Palestinian freedom fighters - SINK - not those, brothers, Gamal. The nutty brother. GAMAL Between you and me, they’re all fucking nuts. SINK Ali Hassan. GAMAL Egypt stands firm with the United States in combatting the evil of global terror. SINK That is, when you’re not paying for it. GAMAL smiles again. GAMAL Ali Hassan was a shit. SINK Since you know he’s a shit, Gamal, why does Egypt think its coincidence that Mukhtar is killed right Ali Hassan returns to Ramallah? GAMAL thinks for a long moment. And smiles. GAMAL I guess we don’t have the American imagination. SINK stands, drops a bill on the table and shakes GAMAL’s hand. SINK This one’s on me. SINK exits the coffee shop. 61. I/E. CAB, WASHINGTON DC - DAY SINK rides in the back of a cab down INTERNATIONAL DRIVE. SINK Stop here. The CAB stops in front of the LEBANESE EMBASSY. SINK scribbles a note onto a piece of paper, folds a bill over it and reaches over to the CABBIE. SINK (CONT’D) Want to make an extra twenty? INT. AIRPORT LOBBY - EVENING SINK sits with ROBIN and JEMMY, waiting for their flight. SINK stares at JEMMY for a long moment, memorizing the face, trying to see his son in his grandson. ROBIN No one knows anything? SINK If they do, they’re not saying. SINK stares out the window. ROBIN You’re lying to me. Jordie had that same look. I’d ask him where he was going, he’d smile and tell me Hawaii. And he’d have that same look on his face. The PA announces the flight to Charlotte. SINK That’s your flight. ROBIN Yeah. SINK pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket. SINK These are friends of mine, back in Michigan. My lawyer, the guy who runs my hardware store. Just in case one of them calls. It’d be easier if you knew who they were. ROBIN knows what he means. And why he’s saying it. 62. ROBIN I just want to bury my husband, Sink. Don’t make me bury his father. ROBIN kisses his cheek. SINK watches them disappear into the airport. Then gets back to work. EXT. MARGUERITA’S MEXICAN RESTAURANT - EVENING A taxi pulls to the curb in front of a small dive of a restaurant in an unpopular part of town. RAFIQ AL-SAAD (44), a Lebanese Diplomat, gets out, as a passing group of TEENS in Gang-Wear give him the once over. INT. MEXICAN RESTAURANT - MOMENTS LATER SINK has a plate of food in front of him. RAFIQ walks through the near empty restaurant and sits across from SINK. RAFIQ I was quite sure you were dead. SINK And I’m quite sure that you might be. (beat) Hungry? RAFIQ No. SINK Drink? RAFIQ No. A WAITRESS starts over. SINK waves her away. SINK How’s life at the Embassy? Must be a bitch having to suddenly answer to your own people instead of the Syrians. Like the world turned upside down. RAFIQ I keep my head above water. 63. SINK Funny. I didn’t know you could swim. RAFIQ Men learn as they age. SINK Yes, Rafiq. We most certainly do. RAFIQ picks the hint of a threat. RAFIQ Do I owe you a favor, Sink? SINK Nope. RAFIQ And you are retired. SINK Yep. RAFIQ Then why am I sitting here? SINK Because for twenty years, Israel occupied one half of your country and the Syrians occupied the other. Because the Lebanese memory is exceedingly long when it comes to collaborators, and their vengeance exceedingly bloody when those collaborators have to go home. RAFIQ Sink, I never - SINK - I can produce a file this thick says you did. Even stamp it Top Secret, I want. They let me keep one as a going away present. (beat) Not much point keeping your head above water if the rest of you isn’t attached to it, is there? RAFIQ I thought we were friends. 64. SINK We are, Rafiq. And friends help each other. For example, I can help keep the Israeli’s from killing you. RAFIQ’s eyes close, and SINK knows he has him. SINK (CONT’D) You know more Palestinian terrorists than anybody who isn’t one himself. Lucky for you, I only need one. The WAITRESS brings SINK his bill. SINK writes a name on the back, and slides it across to RAFIQ. He looks at the name, closes his eyes again, completely defeated. Then slides the name back across the table. RAFIQ It’s always smart to keep your receipts, Colonel Sink. There are some things your government prefers to write off. RAFIQ walks out of the restaurant. INT. OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF DEFENSE - NIGHT CONROY sips at a Scotch as KITTLES sits in front of him. KITTLES All due respect, sir, it’s not a bad story. CONROY Ali-Hassan whacking his brother? KITTLES Gets the Israeli’s off the hook for Mukhtar. Splits the Jihadist and secular Palestinians. And it gives us deniability. We can tell Hamas an American Tourist was lost in their territory, and his family is desperate for answers. CONROY Sure. And they respond by dragging his body through Gaza saying this tourist killed Mukhtar Al-Salameh? General, this is a scab we can not and will not pick. 65. CONROY(CONT'D) We will not sacrifice American respect and prestige for the sake of a corpse. KITTLES All due respect, those corpses are precisely what earns America its respect and prestige. Sir. CONROY You will talk to Sinclair, General. And you will order him to cease and desist immediately. KITTLES He’s a civilian now, sir. I can’t order Sink to do anything. CONROY Then convince him. KITTLES (beat) Yes, sir. I/E. CAB, WASHINGTON DC - NIGHT SINK takes out his cell phone and dials. SINK Avi. Sink. Shabbat Shalom. I/E. HOTEL - MOMENTS LATER SINK pays the cabbie and walks into the hotel, cell phone against his ear. SINK No, that’s not a problem. Okay. I’ll see you then. Hey - Avi, I don’t want your old man all over my ass, you understand? Call your mother. SINK hangs up to see KITTLES in the lobby, tapping an unlit cigarette against his watch. SINK (CONT’D) I miss curfew? A DESK CLERK sees SINK and brings over a package. DESK CLERK Mr. Sinclair, this just came in for you. 66. SINK Thank you. SINK looks at it. KITTLES looks at it. Then KITTLES looks over to the bar. KITTLES Let me buy you a drink. INT. HOTEL BAR - MOMENTS LATER The two men sit surrounded by politicians and Capitol Hill staffers in a crowded, smoke-free bar, drinking scotch and eating peanuts. KITTLES phone rings. He answers, listens, hangs up without speaking, shaking his head. KITTLES So three hours after you leave, I got this call from a friend at the Libyan Embassy who says he just heard the most incredible rumor about Ali Hassan and Mukhtar Al- Salameh. You want to hear it? SINK I don’t believe rumors. KITTLES You think Hamas does? SINK shrugs, playing nonchalant. KITTLES (CONT’D) You sent up a trial balloon. I’m here to pop it. SINK throws KITTLES a look, daring him to say what he knows. KITTLES (CONT’D) You left my office, you and Robin had lunch. You called Darren Sharper and took a walk around the Wall. You had coffee with Gamal Assad, called your lawyer in Michigan to rewrite your will, took Robin to the airport, had dinner with Rafiq Al-Saad who just sent you a package and ten minutes ago you got off the phone with Avi Migdal in Tel Aviv, who by the way, really ought to call his mother. 67. SINK lets out a chile pepper belch. KITTLES pulls out an antacid. KITTLES (CONT’D) And the tamales at Margueritas still give you heartburn. Want a pepcid? SINK You tagging me, sir? KITTLES It’s the Patriot Act, Sink. I’m just a patriot. SINK Then act like one. Sir. KITTLES Understand what’s at stake here, Sink. The Middle East’s a powder keg and Jordie is the fuse. The corpse of your son the price we pay for being who we are. SINK He was your son, sir, what would you do? KITTLES Is this really about Jordie, Sink? Are you really this devoted to the son you abandoned? Or this about you wasting your life in retirement and searching for something, anything, to get yourself back in the shit? SINK (beat) I had him once, sir. I once had my son. But I lost him. And when I got him back, I never even knew it. I will not lose him again. Not for you. Not for this country. Not for anything. (beat) My son died a hero, sir. We owe him this. That strikes a chord in KITTLES. KITTLES I never should have told you. 68. SINK Then why the hell did you? KITTLES Because. We owe him this. KITTLES pops the tablet himself, and drains his Scotch. The cigarette starts tapping against the watch again. KITTLES takes a long look around the bar, sees who’s there and who’s watching. KITTLES (CONT’D) If he was my son - I’d make damn sure I understood that as far as the Government of the United States is concerned, Jordan Ellis Sinclair does not exist. Which means, no matter what, I could never find HIS body, because HIS body doesn’t exist. I could only hope to find A body. A body with papers, and identification. A body that had a relative willing to report him as missing and claim him if and when A body is found. That’s what I’d do. (beat) And I’d make sure I did it in the most public bar in DC, so everybody could see I was following orders and telling you to let this all go. SINK gets the message. KITTLES (CONT’D) Try not to get into any shoot-outs at dawn with the terrorists we’re not currently at war with. SINK No promises. KITTLES It comes to that, I know four very pissed off Americans who’ve spent the last two months in Tel Aviv hoping to pick up an Echo. KITTLES stands, throws some money on the bar. KITTLES (CONT’D) You fuck this up, and I never knew you. You really fuck up, you never existed. 69. (beat) KITTLES(CONT'D) And that said... KITTLES finishes his drink. KITTLES (CONT’D) Go and bring our boy home. KITTLES walks out of the bar. INT. AIRPLANE - MORNING SINK sits alone in first class, craning his neck to make sure nobody’s watching. He rips open the package from Rafiq. And stares at a picture of HAFEZ AL-SHIRI (35). And a map of his last known location in Ramallah. INT. NY AIRPORT - MORNING SINK gets off his flight from DC and walks through the terminal. TYLER KENT, in an olive green T-shirt and fatigue pants, sits in a chair, cane at his side, drinking a cup of coffee. A gold cross dangles around his neck. He sees SINK, pushes himself to his feet. TYLER waits for his orders. SINK smiles his gratitude. A handicapped cart zips down the terminal with bells ringing. SINK International Terminal’s quite a long hike. You want need a ride? TYLER Jerusalem’s no puddle jumper, sir. You need Depends? SINK grins. SINK Liked you better when you were a cripple. He hands TYLER his ticket. They begin their march. 70. INT. AIRPLANE - DAY SINK and TYLER fly in first class, Champagne glasses on their trays next to bowls of fresh strawberries. SINK reads a magazine. TYLER squirms around, trying to get comfortable. SINK (reading) Leg bothering you? TYLER No, sir. TYLER looks around, cranes his neck to see into the coach cabin. Sits back, and continues his squirming. SINK (annoyed) Stop it. TYLER tries to hold still. And can’t. He takes in the champagne and strawberries. TYLER Officers always travel like this? SINK (beat) Of course. INT. BEN GURION AIRPORT - DAY Jet lagged and weary, SINK and TYLER wait to go through Israeli customs, SINK’s suitcase on a roller, TYLER’s Army bag slung over his shoulder. SINK steps forward, passport in hand. The ATTENDANT checks the name, speaks into a radio. SINK There a problem? ATTENDANT Wait over there, please. SINK steps aside. TYLER steps up to the counter. ZVI MIGDAL (62), a hard eyed Israeli, steps out of a side office, and SINK isn’t happy to see him. 71. ZVI Colonel Sinclair. I quite thought you were dead. SINK Join the club, Zvi. ZVI Are you traveling alone? SINK (points to TYLER) He’s with me. ZVI takes in TYLER, in his fatigue pants and shirt, Army bag slung over his shoulder. ZVI And completely inconspicuous. What’s wrong with his leg? SINK Shot by the Arabs. ZVI Good. He’ll fit right in. ZVI whistles to the ATTENDANT, and waves for TYLER to follow. EXT. BEN GURION AIRPORT - MOMENTS LATER SINK and TYLER follow ZVI out of the airport. Everywhere TYLER looks, all he sees are guns, on Police, on Soldiers, on civilians. ZVI This your first time to Israel, Mr. Kent? TYLER Yes, sir. ZVI You like it so far? TYLER I think so, sir. Looks like Iraq. Only nicer. ZVI We print that on our brochures. Two PRETTY GIRLS with UZI’s pass them. TYLER stops to watch. 72. SINK Tyler. TYLER stares after the girls. TYLER I think I’m in love. I/E. ZVI’S CAR, TEL AVIV - DAY ZVI and SINK ride up front, TYLER in back. TYLER Does everybody here carry machine guns? ZVI Of course not. Most us prefer automatics. TYLER remembers something, starts digging through his bag. TYLER I almost forgot, sir. Mr. Lowell said to give you this. TYLER hands sink a large, square, paper wrapped package. ZVI glances at it, then at SINK. ZVI Lot of cash for a tourist. SINK Why the red carpet, Zvi? ZVI Thirty years of friendship isn’t enough? Besides. His mother hasn’t heard from my son. TRAFFIC SLOWS. Sirens wail, people rushing in all directions. ZVI (CONT’D) Something must have happened. ZVI parks the car. The three men get out, wander half a block. SOLDIERS, POLICE and MEDICS rush past them, dust and blood covered SURVIVORS heading towards them. Across the street, they can see the blown out remains of a Cafe. 73. TYLER Reminds me of 9-11. ZVI Reminds me of Yesterday. INT. AVI’S APARTMENT - EVENING SINK knocks on the door. AVI MIGDAL (35), an urban Israeli, answers AVI You’re late. AVI sees ZVI standing behind SINK and TYLER. Unconsciously, he stands straighter. AVI (CONT’D) And not alone. SINK I told you to call your damn mother. AVI steps aside. TYLER shakes hands. TYLER Tyler Kent. AVI Avi Migdal. AVI finds himself eye to eye with his father. AVI (CONT’D) Dad. ZVI glares. A small photography studio, connected to sophisticated computer equipment, is set up in one corner. All four men stand around, not knowing what to do with ZVI there. ZVI Please. Don’t let me interrupt. SINK gives up and steps in front of the camera, waves to AVI to get to work. AVI No smiling. 74. AVI takes several pictures with a digital camera, watching as each feeds into the computer. AVI (CONT’D) (to SINK) Okay. SINK hands an AVI a sealed envelope. SINK This is the best I could do. AVI nods, doesn’t say anything, glances at his father. SINK (CONT’D) How long do you need? AVI Couple hours. SINK Tyler. Avi’s gonna take a few pictures, then you’re gonna hang out here for a while. Don’t touch anything. TYLER Yes, sir. SINK (to ZVI) Shall we? ZVI (to AVI) Call your mother. AVI I will. (to SINK) Ah, Colonel. You have my money? ZVI Avi! AVI I’m not being rude, Dad. This is business. The same business you taught me. ZVI I did not teach you to - AVI - don’t start with me, Dad! 75. SINK Guys. (points at TYLER) I have the money. He’s my collateral. (to ZVI) Let’s go. SINK and ZVI walk out of the apartment. TYLER So. That’s your dad, huh? AVI lets out a sigh, opens the envelope, takes out a picture of JORDIE. TYLER looks over his shoulder. AVI This is his son? TYLER nods. AVI positions TYLER against the back drop. TYLER grins. AVI (CONT’D) No smiling. INT. CAFE - EVENING ZVI and SINK sit in a quiet corner of the cafe. Neither man wants to speak, but ZVI’s face is a perfect mask of patience, and SINK knows he can’t wait him out.. SINK You ever fart in the middle of a Seder? ZVI blinks, taken aback. SINK (CONT’D) Stupid how people react to it, isn’t it? You sit there, pretending that you didn’t do fart. Everybody else sits there pretending that you didn’t fart. But everybody smells it, and no one forgets it, so what the hell’s so wrong about just standing up and saying, “whoops, that was me, and I’m sorry?” ZVI There’s a Seder every year, Sink. And the next time, you won’t be invited. 76. ZVI takes a tablet from his pocket and slides it across the table - SINK looks down, sees “Gas-X”. ZVI (CONT'D) Your last fart cost 20 Israelis their lives. How many more lives will the next one cost? SINK It’s just a little fart, Zvi. I promise. ZVI You have a duty to your country, Sink. But I have a duty to mine. SINK I’m not here for my country, Zvi. And the only thing I need from yours is to stay out of my way. ZVI lights a cigarette and thinks for a long moment. ZVI The fourth American. The one Hamas captured...? SINK nods. ZVI (CONT’D) And plan on searching the desert for his body? SINK I plan on asking Hamas for their help. Respectfully, of course. ZVI puts it together and makes up his mind. ZVI The man who can help you is Luttif Al-Saad. He’s the new Interior Minister. Just mention that you know his Uncle Rafiq. SINK thinks a minute, recognizing the deal on the table. SINK I hope Rafiq’s paid up on his life insurance. ZVI In our world, Sink, there’s no such thing. Which hotel are you staying at? 77. SINK Tonight, the Intercontinental. Tomorrow, the King David. Room 204. ZVI nods and gets up from the table. ZVI I mourn your son, Sink. Now tell mine to go call his mother. ZVI walks out of the cafe. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - MORNING KITTLES works at his desk. The MAJOR walks in with a memo. MAJOR Sir, this just came over the wire. KITTLES takes it, reads. MAJOR (CONT’D) Colonel Sinclair just landed in Israel. The Secretary - KITTLES - doesn’t need to know, Major. KITTLES drops the memo in the shredder. MAJOR Yes, sir. EXT. TEL AVIV - NIGHT SINK walks back to AVI’s, beginning to tire. All around him are people going on with their lives amidst a constant threat of terrorism. Across the street, SINK watches a FATHER holding hands with his YOUNG SON, walking down the street, surrounded by guys with machine guns. INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT SINK tips the BELLBOY, closes the door and locks it. TYLER drops his bag on the floor and falls onto the bed. TYLER What time is it, sir? 78. SINK Midnight. TYLER What’s that in American time? SINK Yesterday. We’re off the reservation here, Tyler. Give me your wallet. TYLER hands it over. SINK takes out his wallet and puts them both in a large envelope, then hands TYLER two fake ID’s, one with Tyler’s picture, and one with Jordie’s. TYLER Paul Stewart. SINK Brother of David. Make a Xerox of that. If your brother is missing, you can’t have his passport. TYLER Right. (reads) Columbus, Ohio? Avi made us Buckeye Fans? SINK His idea of a joke. Could be worse. I’m now Walter Faucet. TYLER rubs his leg. SINK (CONT’D) You take anything for that? TYLER Don’t need to, sir. So what’s the plan, sir? SINK holds up the envelope with the wallets, and writes out a quick note. SINK The plan is, you’re gonna go downstairs and put this in the mail... He holds up the note... SINK (CONT’D) ...fax this and copy that passport. 79. SINK(CONT'D) Tomorrow, you’ll report your brother missing to the American Embassy and after that, you spend the next week on vacation in Israel. TYLER You’re cutting me out, sir? SINK Minimizing your exposure. My op, my rules. TYLER Sir - SINK - You have your orders. TYLER swallows his anger, and gathers the envelope and the note. TYLER Yes, sir. And walks out of the room. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - EVENING KITTLES works at his desk, an unlit cigarette tapping against the wood when he hears his fax machine starting to receive. KITTLES pulls out the note, reads it, smiles, shreds it. KITTLES Major! The MAJOR walks in. KITTLES (CONT’D) Write up an intelligence assessment recommending that Rafiq Al-Saad’s request for asylum be denied. MAJOR Has he asked for asylum? KITTLES Not yet. 80. EXT. TEL AVIV - MORNING SINK and TYLER walk down Israeli streets packed with students, soldiers and tourists, toward the DRESS MARINES guarding the American Embassy. SINK You know what to say? TYLER I’m on top of it, sir. SINK Don’t get too specific. We just want to get the name in the system. TYLER Understood, sir. SINK picks up on TYLER’s frustration. SINK Tyler - TYLER - don’t want to spend all day waiting in line, sir. TYLER heads into the Embassy. EXT. CAFE - MORNING SINK sits outside at a tourist cafe, having orange juice and fruit for breakfast. JASON DONNELLY (33), sits at the next table reading the New York Times. SINK looks at the discarded sections. SINK Excuse me. Would you mind? JASON Help yourself. SINK takes the front page, starts to read, glancing at his watch. INT. EMBASSY - MORNING TYLER sits in an uncomfortable chair, nervously tapping his cane, while a STAFFER reviews the ID and documents. 81. STAFFER Columbus, huh? Go Buckeyes. TYLER Go to hell. My blood runs Maize and Blue. STAFFER I went to Ohio State. TYLER decides to shut up. STAFFER (CONT’D) How long’s it been since you last heard from your brother? TYLER Mom got a call a little over a month ago. David said he was leaving Amman and heading to Israel. STAFFER We don’t have any record of him logging in with us. TYLER That’s why I’m here. EXT. CAFE - MORNING SINK finishes the front page. JASON sits back in his chair, smoking a cigarette. SINK hands him back the paper. SINK Thanks you. JASON My pleasure, sir. SINK perks up. Looking around, he notices another AMERICAN at the other end of the block. And another across the street. And another down the block, behind him. And realizes he’s boxed. JASON puts the sports section down on the table. And puts a sea shell on top of it. JASON (CONT’D) Got that off a beach in Haifa. Put it to your ear, sir. You might just hear an Echo. 82. JASON stands, fits his sunglasses over his eyes. JASON (CONT’D) Score of the Lions game’s on page 17. JASON walks away. The other AMERICANS fade off as well. SINK waits a beat, opens the paper and sees a small note waiting inside. SINK looks at it, briefly. Crumples it in his hand. INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY SINK packs his things. TYLER stands by the window, staring out. TYLER You think I’m a cripple. SINK I think your limp slows you down. TYLER Couldn’t outrun a bullet before I got shot, sir. That hasn’t changed. SINK I got four guys who do this for a living, Tyler. What the hell would I tell your Old Man if something happened to you? TYLER You tell him I died doing what he would have done, you’d asked him instead of me, sir. SINK thinks a moment, counts out some cash and hands it to TYLER. TYLER (CONT’D) You buying me off, sir? SINK You’re going to need your own room, on a separate floor, registered in the name of Paul Steward. The first call you make is to the embassy to update your contact information. 83. TYLER Yes, sir. SINK God damn right, yes, sir. You follow my orders without fail or question. I tell you to stay in your room, you say yes, sir and nothing else. Are we clear? TYLER Yes, sir. SINK All right, then. Get your crippled ass packed. We got a long drive ahead of us. INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - EVENING The MAJOR walks in with another memo, and hands it to KITTLES. Headlined, “American Reported Missing in Israel”. I/E. CAR, KING DAVID HOTEL, JERUSALEM - NIGHT SINK pulls to the curb, lets TYLER out. SINK Wait half an hour, ask for Walter Faucet. TYLER Yes, sir. TYLER gets out. SINK pulls back into traffic, noticing more and more ARAB faces. And on a street corner, one of the four Americans from TEL AVIV, smoking a cigarette. SINK stops. The AMERICAN jumps in. GREG First Sergeant Greg Paulus, sir. SINK I’m Sink. GREG I know who you are, sir. We all do. 84. SINK Where’s the rest of the team? GREG They’re around, sir. GREG hands SINK a slip of paper. GREG (CONT’D) Easy to find. Zero Two Hundred. SINK nods, and stops the car. GREG jumps out and merges in with the tourists. INT. KING DAVID HOTEL - NIGHT SINK checks in at the desk, growing impatient with the DESK CLERK. SINK Is there a problem? DESK CLERK No, sir. We’ve moved you into room 3-11. There’s more room under the beds. SINK gets the message and takes his key. INT. SINK’S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT SINK drops his bag and closes the door behind him. One twin bed sits in front of a TV, opposite a small balcony. SINK drops to his knees, reaches under the bed... And pulls out a long metal case. And then a smaller one. He flips open the first to find an M-16, an Uzi, a couple of automatics, hand grenades, and loads of ammunition. The second, smaller case is loaded with communications equipment, tracking devices, sights and binoculars. SINK answers the knock on the door to let TYLER in. TYLER stares down at the array of weaponry. TYLER Whoa. (wistfully) You don’t mind me saying, sir. I think your time in the Army was a helluva lot more fun than mine. 85. SINK loads two automatics, hands one to TYLER, closes both cases and pushes them under the bed. SINK Grab your cane. EXT. JERUSALEM - NIGHT SINK leads TYLER down through winding streets full of tourists and locals, to the door of a flower shop. SINK opens the door, lets TYLER in first. INT. FLOWER SHOP - CONTINUOUS A faint light comes from a back room. SINK enters, followed by TYLER. JASON DONNELLY waits, along with GREG PAULUS, and the other two Americans, JACK WHITE and RYAN STACK. The FOUR AMERICANS come to attention. SINK Knock that off. My name’s Sink. This is Tyler Kent. And I assume that you gentlemen are the surviving members of Echo Team 3. JACK Jack White. RYAN Ryan Stack. GREG Greg Paulus. JASON Jason Donnelly. SINK You all speak Arabic? JASON Yes, sir. SINK Good. You hear from the General. GREG Our orders are to follow yours, sir. 86. SINK Even better. SINK takes out a wad of cash and lays it on a table. SINK (CONT’D) Logistics. JACK raises his hand. SINK (CONT’D) We need three cars and a safe house deep in Ramallah. JACK How big, for how long? SINK Big enough to hold two guys for as long as we need to. Explosives? RYAN raises his hand. SINK (CONT’D) We need bombs, Stack. Lots of bombs and we need `em everywhere. Not to kill, to distract. To cause chaos. You understand? RYAN Yes, sir. SINK (to JASON and GREG) What do you do? GREG Communications. I’m short some gear - SINK - I got you covered. SINK looks at JASON. JASON Intelligence, sir. SINK Intelligence. (hard) You didn’t know Ali-Hassan had a twin? JASON No, sir. 87. In that instant, SINK can tell JASON is riddled with guilt. JACK What’s the plan, sir? SINK We’re gonna make a trade with Hamas. Our live body for their dead one. RYAN Any live body in particular? SINK The man who murdered my son. JASON Hafez Al-Shiri? SINK nods. The TEAM all exchange looks. JASON (CONT’D) Sir...Al-Shiri’s untouchable. SINK Not anymore. EXT. RAMALLAH - MORNING JASON and SINK walk through the detritus ridden streets of RAMALLAH, each wearing Red Cross badges. The signs of war and poverty are everywhere, from litter and bullet holes to Red Cross and Red Crescent stations. JASON Al-Shiri runs a group of cells out of this area. Suicide bombers, truck drivers. Bastard strapped a bomb to a donkey one time. Got intel up the ass. Every shopkeeper and vendor’s a spy, every little kid’s another pair of eyes. Can’t take a shit in this part of the city without Al-Shiri knowing the size, shape and color. He’s the guy ambushed our team, sir. And you can be sure he’s watching us now. SINK and JASON stop in front of a faded funeral sign of MUKHTAR AL-SALAMEH. SINK Mukhtar’s a popular guy. 88. JASON They’re all popular once they’re dead. SINK keeps walking. JASON (CONT’D) Sir, with all due respect, my team’s concerned with the gimp. SINK It’s my team, Sergeant. And that gimp spent four hours alone on a Baghdad road defending two of his men against fifty armed enemy. JASON Yes, sir. But he’s not one of us. SINK If we need a guy to fight off a city, makes sense to pick the guy who can’t run away. My op, Sergeant. My rules. The gimp stays. JASON lets it go. SINK stops, looks around. SINK (CONT’D) Show me how it happened. JASON leads the way. EXT. RAMALLAH - MORNING JASON and SINK stand across the street from the Cafe where MUKHTAR AL-SALAMEH had his final lunch. JASON We tracked Ali Hassan - Mukhtar - from his father’s home to this cafe. SINK Who made the ID? JASON I made the initial at Al-Salameh’s house. JASON turns around and points to a warehouse down the block. 89. JASON (CONT’D) Hadley confirmed from right over there. Cass took the shot from the roof of that warehouse, with Lincoln spotting for him from that second floor window. SINK Jordan? JASON Captain Sinclair coordinated radio traffic from the BMW three blocks away. SINK Show me. JASON and SINK retrace the steps of the AMERICANS, ignoring the hard, hostile glares from the locals. JASON stops at an intersection. JASON This was the rally point, sir. Captain Sinclair followed the escape route as planned, but they’d already picked up a tail. Truth is, sir, Al-Shiri had tagged us two days before. Soon as Cass pulled the trigger... JASON can’t finish the thought. So he keeps walking. JASON (CONT’D) They called for backup and tried to evade...truck came down off that alley, smacked them right broadside. Pushed `em right into that building. SINK walks over to explore, can still the burn marks from the fire. JASON (CONT’D) Fire’d been started by the time we all got here. Three bodies dead in the car. The fourth... The calamity hangs in the air between them. JASON (CONT’D) I failed them, sir. 90. SINK We have a man unaccounted for, Sergeant. Mission’s not over til everybody comes home. SINK turns and starts walking back the way he came. JASON Sir, I understand you wanting to see all of this, but it was only a couple of months ago. Couple of Americans retracing the steps of the hit right under Al-Shiri’s nose - SINK - yeah. You think maybe he noticed? INT. SHARPER’S OFFICE - MORNING SHARPER checks his e-mail, and sees a message from Sink. With the subject line, “Impending Hostilities.” INT. PENTAGON, KITTLES’ OFFICE - MORNING KITTLES brews espresso. The MAJOR walks in with another memo. MAJOR General Kittles, sir. Mr. Sharper just sent this over from Langley. KITTLES takes the memo, reads it, smiling... “Egyptian Intelligence suggests FATAH Activists planning attack on HAMAS Leadership.” MAJOR (CONT’D) Should I send a copy to Secretary Conroy? KITTLES Send a copy to the Washington Post, Major. Quietly. And get Tel Aviv on the phone. KITTLES picks up the phone and waits. KITTLES (CONT’D) Zvi. Tom Kittles. I got something you need to read. 91. INT. HOTEL ROOM - EVENING SINK opens the door to find ZVI inside waiting for him, smoking a cigarette. ZVI Starting a war in Ramallah is not a little fart. SINK closes the door. SINK It’s just a little war. ZVI Sometimes our worlds collide quietly. And sometimes, those worlds cause an Earthquake. SINK I gave you Rafiq, Zvi. ZVI shrugs that it doesn’t matter. SINK (CONT’D) What do you want? ZVI The same thing you want, Sink. ZVI walks across the floor and presses a small receiver into SINK’s hand. ZVI (CONT’D) I want Hafez Al-Shiri. And with that, ZVI leaves. INT. FLOWER SHOP - EVENING The Team gathers around a small table in the back room, huddled over a map. A large triangle outlines the area JASON and SINK walked that day. SINK takes out the file from Rafiq, holds up the picture of HAFEZ Al-SHIRI. SINK This is our target, gentleman. And he does not have a twin. SINK takes the map from RAFIQ. 92. SINK (CONT’D) This is his theater of operations. Hafez Al-Shiri is somewhere inside this circle - we just don’t know exactly where. So. If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed. SINK looks to RYAN. RYAN traces points around the map. RYAN (points) I have explosives wired on three separate circuits in cars, buildings and backpacks all through this area. Low end, sir. Lots of smoke, lots of bang, but very little buck. JACK points out a spot right inside the triangle. JACK Safe house is here. House above is unoccupied, residents arrested in a crackdown a week ago. We go in through the front door, down into the cellar. Cars are parked at the hotel. SINK nods his approval. SINK In response to rumors of an impending attack on Hamas by Fatah, Israel will be deploying forces around Ramallah. JACK Christ, who started that rumor? RYAN Jenny in home room. SINK shuts them up with a glare. SINK Tomorrow, every gun in Hamas will be on the street. Now Jason and I made a point of making ourselves noticed today, specifically so I would get tagged. Al-Shiri might hide from Fatah, but he once he knows I’m on the street, he’ll come looking. SINK points out roads on the map. 93. SINK (CONT’D) When the shit starts tomorrow, the Israeli’s will move down these three roads, here - here - and here. Sealing off the city perimeter - GREG - and providing us with our safe zone. SINK Tonight, we put Tyler to bed in that basement. First light, Jack, Ryan and Greg start circling the city, looking for Al-Shiri. When they’re in position, I’ll hit the street and make myself noticed. Word will get back to Al-Shiri. When he shows his face, we set off the bombs and make it look like Fatah’s attacking. Under that backdrop, you three grab Al-Shiri, drop him with Tyler and exfiltrate back to the safe zone. JASON What am I doing tomorrow? SINK Making sure I don’t get killed. RYAN Speaking of killed...lot of civilians walking these streets during the day. This turns to shit...what are the rules of engagement, sir? They all wait for SINK’s answer. SINK (beat) My son is coming home, gentlemen. EXT. RAMALLAH - NIGHT JACK and TYLER walk to the safe house, with darkened faces and heavy peasant robes, lost amidst the local population, taking in the abject poverty that surrounds them. TYLER I’m not sure which is worse, you know? 94. Being Israeli, TYLER(CONT'D) get and afraid to on a bus or being Palestinian and having to come home to this shit every day. You ever think about that? JACK No. INT. BASEMENT - MOMENTS LATER JACK and TYLER disappear down into a cellar. A small room with a bare light, no windows. Food is stocked, along with medical supplies. TYLER throws off his robes, revealing weapons and ammo. JACK You smoke? TYLER Yeah. JACK Don’t. Neighbors’ll pick up the smell and come looking. You can listen to the radio, but the volume low. Cellar locks from inside, so once you hear shooting, get your ass to the top of those steps and wait. Signal is two knocks, then two more. Anybody tries to get in without knocking, you frag the fuckers and go and haul ass. Once its over, you guard the package and wait for the call. (grins) Cheer up, man. You get to spend the night alone with the most dangerous man in Israel, right in Hamas’ backyard. TYLER Wish we had beer. JACK takes out the receiver SINK got from ZVI. JACK You know what this is? TYLER nods. JACK (CONT’D) Do not turn this on until its time to go. 95. JACK slaps him on the shoulder. JACK (CONT’D) Lock up behind me. See you tomorrow. JACK climbs the steps and disappears. TYLER locks the cellar door, turns off the light and sits in the dark. EXT. JERUSALEM - NIGHT SINK and JASON walk down a Tourist street. JASON Stack’s right, sir. This goes bad...we could end up starting a war. SINK They’re already at war, Sergeant. Tomorrow’s just tomorrow. JASON (beat) He talked about you. All the time. Got to the point, we all wanted to kick your ass. SINK grins, and turns off toward a store. JASON (CONT’D) Sir. (beat) I am sorry for your loss. SINK takes a breath, and walks into a store. INT. STORE - NIGHT SINK walks up to the clerk. SINK You make copies? CLERK Yes. SINK Good. SINK takes out a blown up, black and white of JORDIE. SINK (CONT’D) I need two hundred. 96. INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT SINK stands at the balcony, staring out at the Holy City, glass of Scotch in his hand. Going through tomorrow inside his head. And thinking of Jordie. INT. BASEMENT - DAWN The calls to prayer pull TYLER out his sleep. I/E. MONTAGE -- CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING GREG, JACK and RYAN loading their weapons, getting their listening devices in place. GREG Echo 1, ready. JACK Echo 2, ready. RYAN Echo 3, ready. The cars pull into the streets and start circling the city. INT. HOTEL ROOM - MORNING SINK loads an automatic, fills his pockets with ammunition. Attaches the grenades to his belt. Gets his radio device in his ear, the receiver stuck on his belt. Looks at himself in the mirror. SINK nods, satisfied he looks the part, then grabs the envelope of copies and walks out of the room. EXT. JERUSALEM - MORNING SINK catches a bus, stands amidst the crowd, everybody looking suspiciously at everyone else. And in the back, sees JASON, sitting with a large suitcase at his feet. 97. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING GREG, JACK and RYAN continue to drive around. GREG Echo 1, negative. JACK Echo 2, Crapola. They wait for RYAN to respond. GREG Echo 3, acknowledge. RYAN’s car sits parked, as he watches a group of ARMED MILITANTS check their weapons down the street. RYAN Guess there’s gonna be a parade. INT. BUS - MORNING Listening, both SINK and JASON hear Ryan’s transmission, and exchange glances. Out the windows, both men see ISRAELI SECURITY FORCES moving into position. EXT. RAMALLAH - MOMENTS LATER Both SINK and JASON hop off the bus. JASON slips a cell phone into SINK’s hand. JASON Star 1, star 2 and star 3 blow the bombs. JASON crosses the street and disappears into the crowd. All over the street, armed MILITANTS from the various factions strut, posture, and threaten. SINK can’t help but smile, the old juices flowing again. SINK Dakota 1, causing diversion. JASON watches through his rifle’s scope on top of a building. JASON Dakota 1, I got you covered. 98. SINK rips open the envelope and takes out the copies of JORDIE’s picture. He starts shoving his way through the locals, grabbing each one, literally shoving the fliers into hands. SINK Hey - have you seen this man? You know this man? American? You speak English? You see this guy? You remember this man? SINK grabs a passing teen. SINK (CONT’D) You know where he is? You know this man? The TEEN pulls away. SINK (CONT’D) Hey, I’m talking to you, asshole. (stops, screams) ANYBODY HERE IN HAMAS! An unarmed CIVILIAN strides over, yelling in ARABIC, grabbing SINK’s arm. SINK (CONT’D) Fuck you, Osama. SINK decks him. He storms down the street, into the MILITANTS, yelling, screaming, throwing his fliers into ever face he can see. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING GREG and JACK pass each other in opposite directions, aware of the growing chaos filtering toward Sink. JACK Whatever he’s doing, its working. GREG Echo 3, what’s your status? A large crowd of MILITANTS rush past RYAN’s car, forcing him to a stop. RYAN I’m in the middle ring of the circus, 1. Shut the fuck up for a minute. 99. RYAN holds out his Red Cross badge and smiles at the MILITANTS, waiting until he’s clear. He starts the car and pulls slowly into traffic. And stops as he sees another group filter out of a house a half block away. RYAN (CONT’D) Holy shit. RYAN checks a face against the picture taped on his dashboard. And sees HAFEZ AL-SHIRI. RYAN (CONT’D) Echo 1, Echo 2. I have the package in sight. JACK No shit? RYAN Twenty feet in front of me, surrounded by assholes. HAFEZ Al-SHIRI gives orders to his men, and heads on down the road. RYAN follows slowly behind him. EXT. RAMALLAH - MORNING Amidst growing chaos, SINK holds his hand over his ear, listening to the transmission. SINK Echo 3, say again? I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING RYAN follows HAFEZ Al-SHIRI down the road. RYAN Dakota 1, the package is moving. AL-SHIRI enters a small cafe, and sits down. JACK Echo 3, what’s your location? RYAN Market street. Two blocks from the safe house. JACK and GREG turn around, and head back that way. 100. EXT. RAMALLAH - MORNING SINK slips the cell phone out of his pocket, presses the star button, then 1... I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING RYAN grabs binoculars and scans the patrons, sees no other threat, no other guns. RYAN Target is visible and stable. EXT. RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS SINK covers his mouth to speak. SINK Echo Team 3. Take down the package. SINK presses send. And Ramallah explodes. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS RYAN pulls a mask over his hair and readies his weapon. RYAN Echo 1, seal the North, Echo 2 the West, I got the South. Package is boxed in and ready for wrapping. GREG and JACK appear in position. GREG Echo 1, go. JACK Echo 2, go. RYAN Echo 3. Going. EXT. RAMALLAH - MORNING SINK presses star, two and send - another set of explosions, as gunfire and battle erupts on the streets. And SINK runs for his life. 101. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - MORNING RYAN pulls the mask over his face and slams on the gas. Immediately, GREG and JACK exit their vehicles and run toward the cafe, guns at the ready. HAFEZ AL-SHIRI stands up just as RYAN races up, stops the car, opens his door and takes aim over the top of the car, firing into the roof of the cafe. The PATRONS run, or duck for cover. HAFEZ AL-SHIRI starts to run - GREG tackles him. JACK piles on. In seconds they have him, taped and blindfolded, and thrown into the back of RYAN’s car. RYAN changes magazines. RYAN Loading! RYAN continues to spray bullets as GREG and JACK race back to their cars. Seeing them pull away, RYAN gets back behind the wheel and speeds off. RYAN (CONT’D) Dakota 1, Echo 3! Package is acquired! Proceeding to mailbox! EXT. RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS SINK picks up the transmission on the run. SINK Dakota 1, acknowledged. A MILITANT appears, gun trained on SINK, ready to shoot - - and a bullet takes off most of his head, as JASON’s VOICE sounds in Sink’s ear. JASON’S VOICE (FILTER) Dakota 2, moving. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS RYAN pulls to a stop in front of the safehouse. GREG and JACK pull into covering positions. RYAN Echo 3, delivering package! RYAN pulls AL-SHIRI out of the car and drags him into the house. 102. INT. SAFEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS RYAN drags the man across the floor and bangs twice on the cellar door, then twice again, pulling his mask away from his face. TYLER throws it open. RYAN He’s all yours, Dude. TYLER grabs AL-SHIRI and pulls him down into the cellar. The door closes and locks as RYAN returns to his car. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS RYAN pulls into traffic, pulling off his mask. RYAN Package delivered. Echo 3 extracting. EXT. RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS SINK runs through frightened locals, hand at his earpiece. SINK Roger that. SINK can see the Israeli’s in position, closing roads. ARABS start throwing rocks at the SOLDIERS as Helicopters float overhead. SINK (CONT’D) Dakota 2, what’s your status? JASON taps SINK on the shoulder as he runs by. I/E. CARS, RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS RYAN pulls to the curb and gets out, leaving his machine gun and pulling out an Automatic. He hits the street running, sees JACK parking and following suit. Both run, on opposite sides of the streets. GREG stands by a corner, waving them over. JACK and RYAN run past. 103. GREG Dakota 1, all Echoes are extracting. EXT. RAMALLAH - CONTINUOUS SINK keeps running, his hand on the cell phone, pressing star, then 3, then send - - and hits the ground as his own explosion blows back on him. JASON appears over him, pulls SINK to his feet... ...as ISRAELI SOLDIERS move past them, flowing into the city, taking the battle to the MILITANTS. SINK and JASON watch for a moment, amazed at what they started, at what they accomplished. Then fade away behind the Israeli’s. INT. BASEMENT - MORNING TYLER gets HAFEZ AL-SHIRI situated, tying him to a chair with rope around his waist. He pulls the tape off the man’s mouth. TYLER Can you hear me? AL-SHIRI nods. TYLER (CONT’D) Do you speak English? AL-SHIRI Yes. TYLER Your name is Hafez Al-Shiri? AL-SHIRI Yes. TYLER Okay. TYLER pulls out a piece of paper and reads his message like an unpracticed commissar. 104. TYLER (CONT’D) We are not Israeli’s. If all goes well, your detainment will be both brief and peaceful. We do not wish to hurt you. If you resist, we will be forced to hurt you. We have food if you’re hungry, water if you’re thirsty and medicines if you are hurt. (beat) Are you? AL-SHIRI Am I what? TYLER Hungry, thirsty or hurt? AL-SHIRI No. TYLER Good. AL-SHIRI Is that all? TYLER turns the paper over. TYLER Ah. Yeah. That’s it. TYLER sits, tapping his cane against the floor. AL-SHIRI I could use a cigarette. TYLER Dude, you and me both. (beat) So. Where are you from? EXT. JERUSALEM - DAY SINK and JASON get off the same bus and walk toward the KING DAVID hotel. INT. HOTEL ROOM - MOMENTS LATER GREG, JACK and RYAN already wait as SINK and JASON walk in. They unload their guns and equipment into an already large pile. SINK grabs the remote, turns on CNN INTERNATIONAL. 105. CNN ANCHOR (ON TV) Israeli troops are struggling to restore order to the West Bank town of Ramallah after Fatah Activists attacked Hamas supporters in the organizations’s continuing quest to regain control of the Palestinian Authority. SINK hits mute. SINK Thank you, Sharper. INT. HOTEL ROOM - MOMENTS LATER SINK walks into his own room to find ZVI waiting for him, smoking a cigarette. ZVI Some little fart. SINK grins. SINK Chaos provides opportunity. I/E. SUV, JERUSALEM - DAY JASON drives, with SINK up front, Rafiq’s file in his lap. The rest of the team is in back, checking their weapons and ammo. JASON What’s to stop them from killing us the minute we step out of the car? SINK pulls his dog tags from his pocket and slips them over his neck. The rest of the team follows suit. SINK Politics. I/E. SUV, EAST JERUSALEM - DAY They drive through Arab Neighborhoods, out of place and conspicuous, drawing openly hostile stares. JASON pulls to a stop in front of a heavily guarded government building flying the FLAG of HAMAS next to the flag of the PALESTINIAN AUTHORITY. 106. RYAN, JACK and GREG jump out of the car, guns drawn but pointed up, showing force but threatening it. SINK and JASON get out, keeping their hands at their side, and are greeted almost immediately by a uniformed Palestinian OFFICER. SINK We’re here to see Minister Luttif Al-Saad. The OFFICER sees the dog tags around SINK’s neck, the envelope in his hands. OFFICER (exaggerrated politeness) And do you have an appointment? INT. GOVERNMENT BUILDING, OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER SINK and JASON both allow themselves to be frisked by GUARDS. Clean, the guards leave, shutting the door to the office. LUTTIF AL-SAAD, early thirties, sits behind a wide desk cluttered with papers. The OFFICER stands behind him. SINK Mr. Al-Saad. Thank you for seeing us. I’m John Martin Sinclair. If LUTTIF recognizes the name, he doesn’t show it. He glances at the dog tags, and back. OFFICER glances at JASON. SINK (CONT’D) You don’t need his name, and I don’t need yours. LUTTIF What can Hamas do for the United States of America? SINK Not as much as your Uncle Rafiq’s done for Israel. SINK tosses file onto LUTTIF’s desk. SINK (CONT’D) Beirut’s called him home. Rafiq’s already applied for asylum. Lucky for you, it’s being denied. 107. LUTTIF opens the file, and takes out the picture of HAFEZ AL-SHIRI. SINK (CONT’D) Friend of yours? With the help of your Uncle, Mr. Al-Shiri is currently enjoying some American Hospitality. As I’m sure the events of today can attest to. JASON takes out a cell phone, dials. JASON Put him on. JASON hands the phone to LUTTIF. INT. BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS TYLER looks over at HAFEZ. TYLER The more convincing you make this, the quicker you’re out of here. INT. GOVERNMENT BUILDING, OFFICE - CONTINUOUS JASON hands the phone to LUTTIF. He listens a moment. LUTTIF Hafez. Kaif Halak? (beat) Ana la a’arif. (beat) Assalamu Alaikum. LUTTIF hands the phone back to JASON. SINK You have something I want. Now I have something you want. I propose we make a trade. The OFFICER says something in Arabic. JASON He says you look like someone he knows. SINK lets that go. LUTTIF You assume I can trust you. Or that you can trust me. 108. SINK My country has no fight with Hamas. Other than, you know, considering you terrorist, murdering scum. But we let you slide on that. LUTTIF Mukhtar Al-Salameh did not slide. SINK Least you got a promotion. LUTTIF What makes you think I even have what you want? SINK Your Uncle Rafiq told me you do. (beat) An American rotting in your desert serves far less of a purpose than your operations director roaming Ramallah. LUTTIF takes a slow breath. The OFFICER says something in Arabic. LUTTIF smiles. LUTTIF He says I can trust you. SINK looks at the OFFICER. LUTTIF (CONT’D) My man will go with you. SINK My man will stay here. LUTTIF shakes his head. LUTTIF When you have what you want, you release Hafez. SINK You trust me that much, or you just don’t want anything more to do with Americans? The OFFICER opens his jacket to reveal a wide, flat bomb around his waist. LUTTIF Both. 109. EXT. GOVERNMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER SINK and JASON walk out with the OFFICER. JACK, RYAN and GREG can’t help but notice the bomb. SINK Shotgun. LUTTIF walks out with two shovels. LUTTIF Mr. Sinclair. You will need these. SINK takes the shovels, a catch in his throat. I/E. SUV, EAST JERUSALEM - EVENING JASON drives, with SINK up front. RYAN sits next to the OFFICER, with GREG and JACK way in the back. RYAN (to OFFICER) That’s some good work. You do that yourself? JASON He doesn’t speak English. OFFICER Yes, I do. RYAN May I? RYAN leans down to expect even closer. RYAN (CONT’D) Huh. Silicon insulation. Neoprene works so much better. INT. BASEMENT - EVENING TYLER paces back and forth on his cane, watching HAFEZ with growing apprehension. HAFEZ How much longer? TYLER squeezes his hand around the receiver. TYLER Hopefully, long enough. 110. I/E. SUV, ISRAEL - EVENING They drive through scattered developments and outposts in Arab territory, dotted by groves and struggling farmland. OFFICER You know why the olive branch is the sign of peace? They all look at him. OFFICER (CONT’D) The olive tree takes generations to grow. JASON sees the Olive Grove and pulls in. He glances over at SINK, sees his face tightening. Growing closer to his son, to their commanding officer and comrade, everyone grows somber. OFFICER (CONT’D) Half a kilometer down this road, you’ll see an irrigation ditch. You will stop there. JASON sees it, stops. OFFICER (CONT’D) We walk from here. EXT. OLIVE GROVE - EVENING The OFFICER leads them through the grove of trees. GREG and RYAN keep their weapons trained on him, while JASON and JACK carry shovels. OFFICER There. Three feet down. JASON and JACK start to dig. SINK turns away to watch the sun set in the sky. The OFFICER joins him, lights a cigarette. SINK realizes he’s standing next to a bomb, and takes a step aside. OFFICER (CONT’D) I, too, have lost my son to war. SINK I’ve been a soldier all my life, sir. What you do cannot be called war. 111. OFFICER Maybe not. But my son is still as dead as yours. EXT. OLIVE GROVE - EVENING RYAN and GREG have replaced JACK and JASON on the shovels, digging into the hard ground. RYAN Colonel. SINK comes over. RYAN and GREG jump into the hole, use their hands to clear away the dirt and brush. And find a body bag. JACK and JASON haul the bag out of the hole and lay it on the ground. SINK kneels, takes a breath, and slowly unzips the bag. And stares into the calm, peaceful face of his son. OFFICER He was a very brave man, sir. I felt he deserved to be remembered that way. Just in case someone came looking. SINK zips the bag lower, sees the gunshot wound over JORDIE’s heart. SINK stares up at the OFFICER, not with hatred or loathing, but with gratitude, almost respect. SINK nods to JASON. JASON pulls out a cell phone and makes a call. SINK turns to the OFFICER. SINK There’s an empty house two blocks away from a shot up cafe in Ramallah. The residents were arrested last week. You know the place I’m talking about? OFFICER nods. SINK (CONT’D) Al-Shiri’s in the cellar. OFFICER takes out his phone and dials. 112. GREG looks at SINK, then at OFFICER, and back, asking if he should take the shot. SINK shakes his head. SINK stands over his son, bends down to touch his face. He takes the fake passport Avi made from his pocket, rolls it in the dirt, and sticks it into his son’s pocket. He looks up to see RYAN, GREG, JACK and JASON saluting his son. SINK stands up, and joins them. JASON bends down to zip the bag. The four men carry their commander’s body to the SUV. SINK faces off with the OFFICER. The four men start to move around in an awkward perimeter, trapping the Arab. He sees it, knows what they’re doing, and smiles. OFFICER My father lives just down this road, sir. As long I’m here... The four men look to SINK. He nods, steps forward, shakes hands with the OFFICER. OFFICER (CONT’D) One day, Mr. Sinclair. SINK One day. SINK gets into the SUV and drives off. EXT. RAMALLAH - EVENING TYLER, dressed in his rags, hobbles out of the house, leaning on his cane, another feeble old Arab man in the camp. Behind him, cars pull up to the house. HAMAS men rush in. And an Israeli helicopter floats over the sky, waiting ominously. I/E. SUV, ISRAEL - NIGHT The TEAM heads back to Jerusalem. The moon begins to rise in the sky. And a single star shines bright overhead, like the beacon that brought light to Bethlehem. 113. INT. EMBASSY - MORNING TYLER sits in front of the STAFFER, completing his paperwork as the STAFFER reads an Israeli police report. STAFFER God, what a tragedy. Course, that’s why the State Department issues these travel warnings. The Mid East’s a dangerous place. If your brother had paid attention, he might not be dead. TYLER looks up. TYLER You are such a Buckeye. INT. AIRPORT - MORNING SINK, TYLER, JASON, GREG, RYAN and JACK stand at the window, watching baggage being loaded onto an El Al flight. And see JORDIE’s CASKET being loaded onto the plane. PA ANNOUNCER Ladies and Gentleman, we are now pre-boarding first class for flight 165 to New York. All first passengers, please proceed to the gate. INT. AIRPLANE - DAY SINK stares out the window, lost in his own thoughts, the champagne and fruit on his tray an afterthought. Motion catches his eye. He glances to his right. TYLER squirms in his seat. All through first class, JACK, JASON, RYAN and GREG, do as well, uncomfortable surrounded by luxury. SINK Grunts. A STEWARDESS approaches. STEWARDESS Mr. Sinclair...the pilot just received a message for you, from a... 114. STEWARDESS(CONT'D) (looks down) G. Kittles? EXT. FORT BRAGG - DAY ROBIN and JEMMY, in their Sunday best, watch as a procession of vehicles accompany a hearse, bearing Jordie to the base mortuary. KITTLES, SINK, TYLER, JASON, JACK, RYAN and GREG, all in their dress uniforms, exit the vehicles. An honor guard proceeds to a hearse, to remove the casket. INT. MORTUARY - DAY The casket lies open. SINK holds JEMMY on his lap as ROBIN stares into the face of her husband. ROBIN I never thought I’d see him again. SINK is thinking the exact same thing. EXT. CEMETERY - DAY ROBIN, JEMMY and SINK follow the casket to the grave for the funeral. The flag is folded, presented to ROBIN. The honor guard fires the 21 gun salute. KITTLES is first in line to salute the casket. Then KITTLES. Then TYLER. Then JACK, RYAN, GREG, and so on down the line. Until only JEMMY is left. EXT. CEMETERY - DAY SINK accompanies ROBIN and JEMMY back to their car. SINK Maybe one day, you’ll come up to Michigan. ROBIN I’d like that. (beat) You keep in touch, okay? 115. SINK kisses her cheek and hugs JEMMY. JEMMY Bye, Grandpa. SINK snaps his grandson a salute. Watches as they drive away. TYLER (teasing) Grandpa? SINK Gimp. SINK turns back to see the FOUR standing by JORDIE’s grave, goes to join them. SINK reads the tombstones to the left and right. CASS. LINCOLN. HADLEY. And he realizes JORDIE is back with his team. SINK (CONT’D) Job well done, Echo Team 3. SINK turns and begins the long journey home. I/E. SINK’S SUV, KENT HOUSE - EVENING TYLER and SINK drive through the town, on their way home, and pull into the KENT’s driveway. CHARLES waits on the porch. SINK Thank you, Tyler. TYLER It was an honor to serve under your command. TYLER gets out of the cab and hugs his father. INT. SINK’S HOUSE, BEDROOM - EVENING SINK opens the closet door for his dress uniform... ...and can’t help but notice how little space his own life takes up. 116. I/E. VETERAN’S BAR - EVENING The MEN, all in dress uniforms, stand at attention. SINK marches to the middle wall and salutes the town’s war dead. His fingernail slices open the envelope. SINK looks down at a picture of JORDIE, in his uniform, grabs a thumbtack and adds his son to the wall. Steps back, and with the MEN of his town, salutes his own son. INT. SINK’S HOUSE - DAY Fresh from his run, SINK stands in his kitchen, drinking three glasses of orange juice, downing them one after the other. He goes upstairs, passing the empty spaces on the wall from the pictures he gave Robin. He opens his footlocker for fresh clothes. Then opens the closets, pulls out the drawers. Sees how much space Helen’s life needed, how little his own life takes up. And realizes, it’s time. SINK empties the footlocker onto the bed, careful to keep things in piles. Then starts packing away Helen’s clothes, closet after closet, drawer after drawer, until she’s all packed away. SINK takes in the empty space, the empty closets, empty drawers. Measures that space against his own clothes, lying on the bed. Realizes just how much life he has to fill. And putting his clothes away in Helen’s drawer, SINK begins to take those first steps. FADE OUT.
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