Air Force One Andrew Marlow FADE IN: INT. C-130 HERCULES TURBO-PROP - NIGHT Eighteen combat-ready special forces, wearing assault black, jump packs and combat gear, stare down the deep end of a greasy ramp into the night sky. Village lights flicker 19,000 feet below. The STRIKE FORCE LEADER signals to his team. Without a moment's hesitation, they dive into the darkness and plummet toward earth. EXT. MANSION - NIGHT A military GUARD, old Soviet-style uniform, rounds the corner of the large estate toting an AK-47. A red laser dot appears briefly on his forehead and, after a beat, the red dot seems to bleed. The Guard collapses dead. Two other GUARDS are dispatched with single, silenced shots. A Strike Team member at a junction box awaits a signal. Through infra-red binoculars the strike Force Leader watches his assault troops as they take positions. STRIKE FORCE LEADER (into headset/in Russian) GO! On the estate - as the power goes out. The team on the mansion's front porch pops the door and pours in. INT. MANSION - NIGHT FOLLOWING - the FIVE TEAM MEMBERS as they rush a stairway in phalanx formation. They nearly knock over an old lady, who in turn lets out a blood curdling scream. UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR - The team kicks open a door. Rushes into the room. INT. BEDROOM - Assault weapons pointed at the bed. The soldiers yank back bedsheets to reveal IVAN STRAVANAVITCH, a middle-aged man and his half-naked 18-year-old concubine. SOLDIER (in Russian) Get up, now! Up! The soldiers pull Stravanavitch to his feet and haul him out of the room. FOLLOWING - As they push down the hallway. MANSION SECURITY GUARDS rally with haphazard gunfire. Out come the strike force's flash-bang grenades. Exploding everywhere, disorienting Stravanavitch's men. EXT. FIELD - NIGHT Signal flares burn as a helicopter descends on the position. The Strike Team evacuates across the field and forces a struggling Stravanavitch into the low-hovering copter. The commandos swiftly board the craft as a handful of Stravanavitch's guards break into the clearing. They open fire. And the mounted machine guns on the helicopter return. One of the Strike Team members takes a bullet to the neck. He's' pulled by his comrades into the chopper as it lifts into the sky, its guns spitting lead... STRIKE FORCE LEADER (V.0.) Archangel, this is Restitution. Archangel, this is Restitution. The package is wrapped. Over. VOICE (V.0. RADIO) Roger, Restitution. We are standing by for delivery. FADE TO BLACK The SOUNDS of a dinner banquet. Forks clanking against plates and the din of a hundred conversations, broken by... The DING, DING, DING of a SPOON tapping against a wine glass. SUPER TITLE: "MOSCOW - THREE WEEKS LATER FADE IN: INT. BANQUET ROOM - NIGHT Hundreds of men and women in formal evening wear sit at round banquet tables. A HUSH falls over the guests as the DINGING continues. All attention turns to the front table. A rotund, silver haired-man in his late sixties rises and sidles past U.S. and Russian flags up to the podium microphone. He is STOLI PETROV, President of Russia. PETROV (in Russian) Thank you for joining us this evening. Petrov's harsh Russian issues through the room. But over it we hear a young woman's voice translating. TRANSLATOR (V.0.) Tonight we are honored to have with us a man of remarkable courage, who, despite strong international criticism... AT THE FRONT TABLE - A translator's words ring in the earpiece of a handsome man in his mid-forties. Worry lines crease his forehead and the touch of gray at his temples attest to three very difficult years in office. This man is JAMES MARSHALL, and he is the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. He busily makes last minute changes to his speech. TRANSLATOR (V.0. earpiece) Has chosen to join our fight against tyranny in forging a new world community. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the President of the United States of America... Mr. President. Thunderous applause as Marshall rises and approaches the podium. At the back of the room, DOHERTY, a senior policy adviser whispers to the President's Chief of Staff ED SHEPHERD... DOHERTY Maybe we should consider running him for re-election instead of the U.S. The applause dies as Marshall begins to speak. MARSHALL (in Russian with subtitles) Good evening and thank you. First I would ask you to join me in a moment of silence for the victims of the Turkmenistan massacres. The room remains silent a few beats. Most guests respectfully bow their heads. Marshall begins again, but this time in English. The young woman translates simultaneously for the Russian audience. MARSHALL As you know, three weeks ago American Special Forces, in cooperation with the Russian Republican Army, secured the arrest of Turkmenistan's self- proclaimed dictator, General Ivan Stravanavitch, whose brutal sadistic reign had given new meaning to the word horror. I am proud to say our operation was a success. Applause from the audience. Marshall turns the page on his speech. MARSHALL And now, yesterday's biggest threat to world peace... today awaits trial for crimes against humanity. During the applause, Marshall pulls a page from the speech, folds it and slides it into his pocket. He removes his glasses and looks out into the crowd. His tone becomes more personal. He's not reciting the speech anymore. MARSHALL What we did here was important. We finally pulled our heads out of the sand, we finally stood up to the brutality and said "We've had enough. Every time we ignore these atrocities-- the rapes, the death squads, the genocides- every time we negotiate with these, these thugs to keep them out of gig country and away from gig families, every time we do thiS.E. we legitimize terror. Terror is not a legitimate system of government. And to those who commit the atrocities I say, we will no longer tolerate, we will no longer negotiate, and we will no longer be afraid. It's your turn to be afraid. Applause rolls through the crowd. EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT Sprawling terminals spread out to runways like tentacles. ON THE TARMAC - Bathed in floodlights, perched majestically on the runway, dwarfing nearby commuter and military jets, stands... AIR FORCE ONE The President's own Boeing 747-200, dubbed "the flying White House". The distinctive royal blue stripe over a thin gold line tapers to a tail adorned with the American flag and the Presidential Seal Secret Service agents and Marines stand guard at the aircraft's perimeter. A RUSSIAN NEWS VAN emerges from the darkness and pulls to a stop by a Secret Service barricade. SPECIAL AGENT GIBBS greets the Russian news team that emerges. GIBBS Gentlemen, welcome to Air Force One. Please present your equipment to Special Agent Walters for inspection. The news team's segment producer, a crusty old Russian named KORSHUNOV raises his big bushy eyebrows. KORSHUNOV We've already been inspected. GIBBS Sir, this plane carries the President of the United States. Though we wish to extend your press service every courtesy, you will comply with our security measures to the letter. KORSHUNOV Of course. I'm sorry. Korshunov and the FIVE MEMBERS of his news crew present their video cameras, sound equipment and supplies to Special Agent WALTERS for inspection. Secret Service DOGS sniff through the baggage. GIBBS Please place your thumbs on the ID pad. Korshunov puts his thumb on the ID pad of a portable computer. The computer matches up his thumbprint with his dossier and photograph. "CLEARED" flashes on the computer screen. INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT The President, walking with his entourage. SHEPHERD * CBS said they'll give us four minutes. They thought the Russian was a nice touch. MARSHALL I always wondered if my freshman Russian class would come in handy. DOHERTY Sir, you threw out page two. MARSHALL Goddamn right I did. I asked for a tough-as-nails speech and you gave me diplomatic bullshit. What's the point in having a speech if I have to ad-lib? DOHERTY It was a good ad-lib, sir. MARSHALL Thanks. Wrote it last night. The President exits the building and enters his limousine. EXT. TARMAC - AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT Walters hands the bags back to the Russians. WALTERS Equipment checks out. A striking woman in her early thirties descends Air Force One's stairway. MARIA MITCHELL. GIBBS Gentlemen, this is Maria Mitchell. Press Relations for the Presidential Flight Office. She'll take you from here. KORSHUNOV Ms. Mitchell. So nice to finally meet you in person. MITCHELL The President and I were delighted that we could accommodate you. Now if you're all cleared? (Gibbs nods) You can follow me then. They ascend into the belly of Air Force One. MITCHELL * I'll be giving you a brief tour, then during the flight, two members of your crew will be allowed out of the press area at a time for filming. You will have exactly ten minutes with the President and twenty with the crew... EXT. STREETS OF MOSCOW, PRESIDENT'S MOTORCADE - NIGHT Winding its way down narrow cobblestone streets onto a major thoroughfare. INT. PRESIDENTIAL LIMOUSINE - NIGHT The limousine is packed with advisers, aides, military staff, including LT. COL. PERKINS, the keeper of the NUCLEAR FOOTBALL handcuffed to his wrist. In the b.g. on the limo's television set, the LARRY KING SHOW indulges in its normal banter. Marshall wearily rubs his temples as he stifles a yawn. SHEPHERD You wanna knock of f? MARSHALL No, no. I'm fine. What did the Speaker say? SHEPHERD He and the NRA don't like the wording. DOHERTY Apparently taking uzis away from sixth graders isn't as popular as we thought it'd be. Representative Taylor is working on a compromise. MARSHALL Put together a score sheet. I'll make some calls. SHEPHERD With all due respect, sir, maybe you should give them this one. Your numbers are still pretty low and you called in a lot of chips to nail Stravanavitch. MARSHALL I might still have a few chips left. SHEPHERD * We could always put you in a duck blind with a twelve gauge. The second amendment types'll love that. MARSHALL This is a crime bill, Shep. Killing a couple ducks won't get it through committee. Besides, Shep, I told you... I don't shoot babies and I don't kiss guns. SHEPHERD Other way around, sir. MARSHALL (realizing what he said) Right... Christ I'm tired. Do me a favor and keep me away from the press. Marshall's watch alarm beeps and he automatically reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out a medicine vial and downs two pills with a coffee chaser. On the T.V. LARRY KING (T.V.) ... and your reaction to the President's trip to Moscow. Good or bad? Shepherd turns up the volume. SHEPHERD This is the part I wanted you to see. REP. DANFORTH (T.V.) Criminal. One of our boys died in Marshall's little publicity stunt and for what? So we could claim victory over another country's problems instead of our own? And now he's got the nerve to prance around Moscow gloating, while that poor boy's family is left to bury him. If I were Marshall, I'd be ashamed of myself. LARRY KING There you have it. Harsh words for the President from Michael Danforth, the Speaker of the House. Marshall mutes the television. A quiet moment. SHEPHERD * My opinion. We can't let him get away with that kind of language. Marshall considers. Then decides. MARSHALL It's bait. Don't take it. SHEPHERD Sir, the Speaker of the House attacked this administration on national television. You can't afford to leave that hanging. MARSHALL (ignoring Shepherd) Did we tape the Duke game? AIDE It's waiting on the plane. The ending was pretty... MARSHALL (interrupting) Please don't tell me. Just for once, * let me be surprised. INT. AIR FORCE ONE, CORRIDOR, TRAVELING - NIGHT Maria Mitchell escorts the Russians down the plane's length. As they pass the galley, Maria motions up a set of stairs. MITCHELL Up on the upper deck is the cockpit and the Mission Communication Center. The MCC, as we call it, can place clear and secure phone calls to anywhere on earth. We're linked to a network of military and civilian satellites and ground stations. We could run the country or run a war from there if we had to. KORSHUNOV This is a remarkable aircraft. MITCHELL You don't know the half of it. Did you know this entire plane is shielded from radiation? We could fly through a mushroom cloud completely unharmed if necessary. KORSHUNOV A dubious distinction, no? MITCHELL I guess it depends on your perspective. They walk by several conference rooms, running down the starboard side of the plane. KORSHUNOV And all these rooms here? MITCHELL Conference rooms, though some have other functions. The one up front doubles as an emergency medical center. Past the conference rooms, they walk by a small side room where SECRETARIES work on computers, generating documents. MITCHELL As you can see, back here's more like a regular plane. Security and Secret Service take this cabin. You'll be in the rear with the press pool. The REAR PRESS CABIN, just ahead of the rear galley and bank of bathrooms. A handful of disgruntled reporters feign sleep. MITCHELL Here's a press kit. I'll let you guys get comfortable and once we're airborne I'll be able to schedule the interviews. KORSHUNOV Thank you. Mitchell exits forward. One of the reporters stirs and looks up at the news team. He groans. Space is a premium back here. REPORTER You fellas win some sort of fly-with- POTUS contest? KORSHUNOV Potus? What is Potus? REPORTER P.O.T.U.S. President Of The United States. KORSHUNOV Ah, no. We won nothing. We are ITAR-TASS news service. REPORTER Right. Listen, this here... This is my row. You'll have to sit over there. Korshunov trades looks with his news team. EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT The President's motorcade pulls up in front of Air Force One. INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT The President and his entourage ascend from the lower deck platform onto the main deck. COL. DANIEL AXELROD, Air Force One's pilot, snaps off a salute as he passes. COL. AXELROD Welcome aboard, Mr. President. MARSHALL (returns salute) Hey Danny. How's it look tonight? COL. AXELROD Glassy, sir. Care to take the wheel? MARSHALL You keep offering, one of these days I'll take you up on it. (to no one in particular) Rose and Alice back yet? AIDE No, Mr. President. The ballet ran late. Their ETA is seventeen minutes. Marshall nods as he pulls off his bow tie and enters his stateroom. Shepherd follows two steps behind. SHEPHERD Mr. President? Marshall halts Shepherd with a gesture. MARSHALL Thirty seconds. Shepherd nods and waits by the door. Lt. Col. Perkins takes a seat outside the Presidents stateroom and opens the latest Tom Clancy thriller, using the nuclear football as a lap desk. INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT Marshall collapses on the couch, rubs his eyes, then closes them. A moment of peace in a breakneck day. The knock at the door jars him. MARSHALL Yes. Shepherd enters. SHEPHERD Can I at least issue a press release objecting to the Speaker's choice of wording? President Marshall picks up one of the many phones in his office. MARSHALL I said it's not worth the fight. (into phone) Steward, please. SHEPHERD We'll just say it was in bad taste. * MARSHALL Forget it, Shep. The kid gave his life for his country and the Speaker's a bastard for turning him into a sound bite. I'll take the heat. Understood? SHEPHERD You give me ulcers. MARSHALL That's my job. A STEWARD enters the room. STEWARD Mr. President? MARSHALL Hey Mike. Could you get me a Heineken? SHEPHERD No, wait. Get him one of the Russian beers. The steward nods and disappears from the room. SHEPHERD We've got those Russian news guys on board and it'll look good in the papers. Marshall picks up a stack of policy reports. Thumbs through them. MARSHALL C'mon Shep. I've been eating borscht and drinking vodka for days. Isn't that enough? (off paper) New home starts are down. The steward arrives with the Russian beer. Marshall takes a swig. He swallows hard. Piss-water. Marshall crosses to his sink and pours the beer out. He hands the bottle to the steward. MARSHALL Fill this with Heineken. The steward nods... STEWARD Yes, Mr. President. AND SLINKS AWAY WITH THE BOTTLE. MARSHALL CATCHES HIMSELF -- MARSHALL I don't believe this. I'm playing politics with a bottle of beer. A goddamn bottle of beer. I've been in office too long. SHEPHERD Look on the bright side... if the polls don't change, you won't have that problem, sir. Marshall picks up the phone again. MARSHALL Yeah. Put the Duke game on in my room. INT. AFO'S MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER - NIGHT THREE Air Force SPECIALISTS man the elaborate communication system occupying much of the upper deck. Top-of-the-line computers, communication systems, video decks, and satellite receivers. AIR FORCE SPECIALIST Yes, Mr. President. He slides in a videotape and channels the feed to the * president's stateroom. INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT A monitor comes to life with a basketball game. MARSHALL (to Shepherd) Defense and State Department in the conference room in one hour. I want to review the Iraq situation. SHEPHERD Yes, sir. Shepherd exits as Marshall settles into his leather chair and dives into work. He punches a button on the speakerphone. MARSHALL Get me the Housing Secretary... EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT The Marine Guards snap to attention once again as the First Lady's motorcade arrives. ROSE MARSHALL, a self-assured woman with an aristocratic gleam, alights from her limo. She takes a few steps, then turns, tapping her foot impatiently. ROSE C'mon Alice, we're 20 minutes late. Your father's gonna have a fit. ALICE, the President's 13-year-old daughter, straggles out of the car, rolling her eyes. ALICE It's not like he hasn't made us wait a few times. ROSE Well, you aren't the President, dear. ALICE Yeah, no duh. INT. MAIN DECK, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT As the First Lady's entourage enters. ROSE Why don't you go say hi? Again, Alice rolls her eyes. ROSE What is wrong with you tonight? Come here. Rose pulls Alice aside. ROSE You don't want to say hi to your father? ALICE I'm sure he's busy. ROSE Don't you even want to ask? Alice toes her foot into the carpet as she releases an exasperated sigh. She is, in this moment, the patron saint of know-it-all 13-year-old girls. Alice waves toward the Presidential Suite. ALICE If I go over there to say hi to daddy President, Mike's going to tell me he's in a meeting and can't be disturbed. Then when the plane starts to taxi, he'll come out and say "Hey, are you guys back? Did you enjoy the ballet?" But he'll be on his way to another meeting and won't wait for an answer. Then you'll get pissed at him and he'll get pissed at you. It's like you guys rehearse or something. With the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, Alice Collapses into one of the many leather chairs. It seems to swallow her. JORY, a steward passes. ALICE Hey Joey, how `bout a cocoa, double whip cream. ROSE Alice... ALICE Mom, just this once, give it a rest. ROSE You're jet-lagged. We'll talk about this back... ALICE Back at The Fishbowl? Alice eyes the swirl of Aides who are pretending to work nearby. But it's obvious that they're eavesdropping. Alice smiles and waves at them dramatically. ROSE We'll talk at home. (beat) You know, most girls aren't as lucky as you. For most girls seeing the Bolshoi ballet would be the experience of a lifetime. ALICE I know, Mom. (sees the hurt in her mom's eyes and softens) It was great... really. Rose nods, smiling a half-smile. After a thoughtful beat, Alice gets up and crosses to the Presidential suite. She exchanges words with the Aid