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Willow - part five

Updated on December 14, 2015

The following is the final part of a screenplay for a feature film that is meant to be rated R. This screenplay contains fowl language and descriptions of graphic images. Copyright Austin Marion 2014.

Part 5 of 5: For other parts see links at bottom of page.

138 INT. ATLANTA - HOTEL - MICHAEL’S ROOM - DAY

Michael is asleep on top of the covers with a throw pillow
under his head. He slowly stirs. When he wakes the his head
ache is apparent with the cringe on his face. He looks out
the window, which has the morning sun poring in on him. He
shields his eyes from it.

139 INT. ATLANTA - HOTEL - MICHAEL’S ROOM - BATHROOM - DAY

Michael’s already showered and nearly completely dressed. He
is brushing his teeth. He stares at the dark bags under his
eyes. There is an open bottle of pain reliever next to the
sink. As he brushes, he notices a tourism pamphlet on the
counter. He picks it up and looks at it. Michael reads
aloud from the pamphlet.

                  MICHAEL
        Lose yourself, in the middle of
        Georgia, by canoeing down the
        Chattahoochee River. Tours start
        in the town of Bute, Georgia,
        population three hundred...

He stops brushing, as he trails off and thinks for a moment.
A look of curiosity comes to his face. He puts down the
pamphlet and rinses his mouth.

140 INT. ATLANTA - HOTEL - MICHAEL’S ROOM - DAY

Michael sits at his laptop reading an ATF report on it. The
date on it is April 3rd, 2008. He reads aloud from the
report.

                  MICHAEL
        Bute, Georgia. ATF received a
        report of man, Mr. Robert Paulson,
        buying an abnormally large
        quantities of ammonium nitrate.
        Agents met with the buyer at his
        vacation home, a cabin located on
        an island on the Chattahoochee
        river. Fire number seventy-seven
        county road forty-four.  The buyer 
        claimed that he purchased the 
        ammonium nitrate for farm purposes, 
        on a farm he inherited from his 
        father. After further investigation 
        we found that the farm had recently 
        began operation.  While questioning 
        the man on the quantity he purchased, 
        he said that he was new to farming 
        and was unsure of the amount needed. 
        No further investigation needed. 
        Case closed.
            (realizes)
        They didn’t do a background check,
        like they were supposed to do.

He sits back in his chair, thinking.

141 INT. ATLANTA - HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY

Junior is walking through the Lobby as Michael runs up to him
and stops him.

                  MICHAEL
        Junior, I need the keys to the car.

                  JUNIOR
        Okay. Why?

Junior is reaching into his pocket for the keys.

                  MICHAEL
        Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring
        it back in one piece. Oh and, I
        sent in a background check on
        someone. I told them to contact
        you, if they couldn’t get a hold of
        me.

Junior pulls out the keys and hands it to him with a look of
curiosity.

                  JUNIOR
        Background check? On who, Michael?

                  MICHAEL
        His name is Robert Paulson.

                  JUNIOR
        Who the hell is Robert Paulson?

Michael turns and hurries away. Junior watches as Michael
walks away with a confused look on his face.

142 INT. COUNTRY ROAD 44 - CAR - DAY

Michael drives the black sedan down the road carefully
looking at the side of the road. Just a head is a dirt road
with a small red sign on it with the number 77 in white block
writing on it. He slows and turns onto the dirt road. After
a few twists and turns he comes up to the river with the dock
and parks the car.

143 EXT. THE WILLOW - DAY

Michael stands behind a tree looking at the dilapidated
shack. He takes another good look around the clearing and
slowly moves toward the shack. When he reaches the door and
looks into a nearby window. Inside, there is a bunk bed,
chair, table and a workbench with a large piece of paper
rolled open on it up against the wall. On the wall there are
assorted pictures and papers pinned to it. There is no one
inside.

Michael glances at the fishing poll next to the door. There
is a fresh worm on the hook. He then, looks at the door.

                  MICHAEL
        Probable cause?

He looks to be in thought and then opens the door. The shack
is fairly dark. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a
small flashlight and shines it in. He enters.

144 INT. THE WILLOW - SHACK - DAY

Michael looks around shinning his flashlight into the dark
corners. He walks up to the wall with the pictures and
papers pinned up to it. One of the pictures is a copy of the
picture of Michael at the memorial.

Michael stares at it for a moment. He then looks over
everything else. There is a diagram of a large bomb,
composed of a few barrels and random pictures of downtown
Atlanta.

He moves over to the workbench and looks at the large piece
of paper on it. It's blue prints for a parking garage and it
is several pages long.

                  MICHAEL
        Shit.

He flips the page over and sees a diagram of the facade of
the building, a row of columns. Michael pulls out his
cellphone and sees he doesn’t have a signal.

145 EXT. SHORE OPPOSITE OF THE WILLOW - DAY

Michael stands next to his car and is trying desperately to
get a call out on his cellphone. Still no signal.

                  MICHAEL
        God damn, middle of somewhere.

He puts his cellphone back in his pocket, out of frustration.
He looks around seeing nothing but trees. His eyes stops on
the dirt road. He notices something.

He walks up toward the dirt road away from his car. There
are tire tracks that drive over the ones that lead to his
car. The tire tracks stop, turn around and drive back up the
road. He looks at them curiously. His car is now about
twenty feet behind him.

BOOM.

Flames erupt from underneath the trunk of the car. Michael
is thrown to the ground. The car flips up into the air and
lands hard onto the ground onto its roof. Michael is slow to
sit up and looks at the burning wreckage of his car.

Movement in the tree line gets his attention. It’s the
Bomber. He is running back into the woods. Michael jumps to
his feet and runs after him. He enters the woods.
146 EXT. WOODS - DAY

The woods are thick. The Bomber runs between the tree,
making his way up a steep hill. Michael is catching him.
Michael hurdles over bushes, thrashing his way after the
Bomber.

Michael pulls his gun. He points and fires wildly. The
bullet hits a tree a few feet to the right of the bomber. He
fires again with equal success.

The Bomber reaches the top of the hill, turns with his gun
and fires with more accuracy than Michael. One bullet hits
him in the chest. He stumbles backward in pain.

Michael then jumps for cover behind a tree, holding his chest
in pain. The bullets SNAP as they hit the tree. He reaches
under his flannel and pulls out the bullet, which was lodge
in his bullet proof vest.

Michael leans out from behind with his gun pointed at the top
of the hill. He fires three shots. Each hitting around the
Bombers feet.

The Bomber retreats disappearing behind the top of the hill.
Michael continues his way running to the top of the hill.

147 EXT. WOODS - TOP OF HILL - DAY

Michael reaches the top of the hill, breathing heavily,
seeing the Bomber way a head of him. The Bomber is running
for a clearing ahead. Its the county road.
Michael quickens his pace and begins to reel in the bomber.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

The Bomber, points his gun back, while still running. He
fires off a shot. The bullet CRACKS through the air, missing
Michael.

Michael stops and points his gun. He gets the Bomber in his
cross-hairs. He then sees something on the tree next to him.
It is a pipe bomb, duct taped to the trunk of the tree with a
lit fuse on it. The fuse is almost out. On the other side
of him is another tree with another bomb on it with a lit
fuse as well.

                 MICHAEL
       Of, course.

He sprints forward. He only makes about ten feet, when the
bombs go off.

BOOM. BOOM. CRACK.

Michael is thrown face first to the ground.

CRACK. CRACK.

He rolls over onto this back and sees one of the trees
falling toward him. He lunges to his right. Crawling
frantically to get away from the tree.

CRASH.

The tree falls hard to the ground just a few feet from him.
He stands and sees the Bomber, nearly to the clearing.
Michael sprints after him. He begins to catch him as the
Bomber runs out into the clearing. There is the sound of a
truck door SLAMMING shut. Michael quickens his pace.
148 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD 44 - DAY

The Bomber sits in a late nineties pickup truck with no
license plate.

The engine has just come to life as Michael runs out of the
wood. The Bomber slams the truck into gear and speeds off.
Michael raises his gun and fires at the truck as it drives
off down the road. He stops on the side of the road,
breathing heavily. Michael forehead covered in sweet.

                  MICHAEL
           (angrily)
       GOD DAMN IT!

He stands for a moment, catching his breath. He pulls out
his cellphone and sees that he has a signal.

149 EXT. SHORE OPPOSITE OF THE WILLOW - DAY

Michael has pulled off his flannel shirt, bullet proof vest
and has his shirt pulled up and looks at the bruise in his
chest, from where the bullet hit the vest. He is standing
near his burning car as Georgia state police cars pull down
the driveway with their sirens on. There are four of them.

He pulls out his badge and shows them it as they pull up and
park. They get out and one of the STATE POLICEMEN walks up
to him, the others stand and looks at Michael burning car.

                  STATE POLICEMEN
        Agent Michael Abbott?

                  MICHAEL
        Yes.

He puts his badge away and begins to walks up to one of the
parked squad cars.

                  MICHAEL (CONT’D)
        There’s a shack over on that
        island. It belongs to the Kansas
        City Bomber. You have more coming?

                  STATE POLICEMAN
        Yeah. All available cars and our
        bomb squad. Fire will be here in
        about three minutes.

                  MICHAEL
        Good. I’m taking one of your cars.

                  STATE POLICEMAN
        Sir, you can’t take my car!

Michael is just opening the car door and about to go in.

                  MICHAEL
        Sorry!

He gets into the squad car and drives off down the dirt road.

150 INT. ATLANTA - HIGHWAY - SQUAD CAR - DAY

Michael drives at high speeds, darting between traffic with
the siren on. The Atlanta sky line is just ahead and getting
closer. Michael is on his cellphone with Junior.

                 MICHAEL
           (on the phone)
        Is the city on lock down?

                 JUNIOR (V.O.)
        Just downtown. It’s the middle of
        the work day and there are a lot of
        people down here. We’re doing a
        block by block evacuation. It’s a
        cluster fuck.

                MICHAEL
        I’m almost there. I’m going to
        need back up.

                JUNIOR (V.O.)
        The most I can manage is Taylor and
        I and maybe a few others. You’re
        not in charge, you know. They’re
        more concerned with getting people
        out. Spears’ a little pissed that
        you went rogue.

                MICHAEL
        I didn’t go rogue. Tell director
        Spears that he’s already here,
        there’s not much time. He had a
        twenty minute head start on me.

                JUNIOR (V.O.)
        I’ll do my best. Hey, something
        came back from your background
        check. Robert Paulson, he’s a
        farmer in Bute but prior to six and
        a half years ago there’s no
        information on him. Four years
        prior to that, they found a death
        certificate from Colorado Springs.
        Robert Paulson is dead. The real
        one, did have a father that owned a
        farm. When the father died 
        they couldn’t locate the family, so 
        the land went to the state. Till 
        this guy showed up claiming he was 
        Robert Paulson.  State of Georgia 
        eventually awarded the land to him.
        So, knowing who he might be, how 
        does this help us right now?
 
                 MICHAEL
        It doesn't.  I'll see you in a few.

Michael hangs up his phone and swerves onto a off ramp into
downtown Atlanta.

151 INT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - SQUAD CAR - DAY

The street is empty and has tall skyscrapers towering above
it. Michael drives slowly down the street. He is leaned
forward in his seat looking up at the skyscrapers above him.
One building gets his attention.

The building is a tall condo building with a facade of
columns, just like in the blue prints. Just below the
decorative facade is a parking garage entrance. He pulls the
car over.

152 EXT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - DAY

Michael is just getting out of the squad car. He takes a
quick look around the dead quiet street. SIRENS can be heard
near by. He looks at the parking garage entrance. He walks
toward it and looks in, seeing a few parked cars. He pulls
out his phone and calls Junior.

                  MICHAEL
           (into the phone)
        Two, thirty-three Fremont. I’m
        going in to take a look.

                  JUNIOR (V.O.)
        Michael, wait for back...

Michael hangs up on Junior and enters the garage.

153 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - CORRIDOR - DAY

The garage has plain white concrete walls. Michael walks
down the corridor that opens up into the larger garage.

CLANK.

Michael moves nearer the side of a wall. He pulls out his
gun, moves ahead to a corner and stops. He looks out into
the garage. He spots a white van with its back doors open,
about two rows of cars down from him in the middle of the
garage. He glances around the garage and there are no
people, that can be seen.

154 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

The garage is half full with cars. Michael comes out of the
corridor. He slowly approaches keeping a close watch on his
surroundings. As he reaches the van, he looks in seeing
several large barrels with electrical wire connecting them.
He walks up to the van for a closer look. He stares at the
bomb with an edgy look.

                  MICHAEL
        That’s a big bomb.

He looks closer and sees a timer on it that is not counting
down. Suddenly...

Michael is hit over the head with a wrench, knocking him out.

Source
155 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

The van is dark and the timer is counting down from twenty
minutes. Michaels hands are tied together, back behind one
of the barrels with a rope. He has a large bleeding wound on
his head. The wrench that hit him, is on another barrel next
to him. His gun is gone from it’s holster. He is still
knocked out.

Michael stirs. He looks around grunting, in pain and looking
dizzy. The voice of George comes from the front seat of the
van. George is the Bomber.

                  GEORGE
        You’re a failure, Michael.

He sits in the passenger seat looking relaxed. Michael
doesn’t recognize the voice. George laughs as Michael looks
annoyed over his shoulder. Michael notices the running
timer.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        I bet, you’re dying for just the
        hangover right now?

Now Michael recognizes the voice.

                  MICHAEL
        You son of a bitch.

                  GEORGE
        Now, that’s not nice. My mothers
        dead.
            (pause)
        You still can’t catch me. You can 
        find me but you just can finish 
        the job. Epic fail, Michael.

George holds Michaels cellphone in his hands. George begins
to look through the pictures on it. Michael moves violently,
back and forth, trying to get loose.

                  MICHAEL
        FUCK YOU!

                  GEORGE
        Hey now! Those things are bolted
        to the floor. They and you are not
        going anywhere. You know thanks to
        you, I can’t go home. The willow.
        That’s where I used take fishing
        trips with my father. A lot of
        good memories at the willow. I
        can’t relive them anymore.

Michael stop and manages to turn his head enough to see, that
the barrel is bolted to the floor. He exhales loudly out of
frustration.

                  MICHAEL
        What, are you into some bullshit
        religion that say’s human beings
        are in need of a reality check or
        something?

                  GEORGE
        It’s not religion. My daddy was a
        Baptist but he never went. He said
        my mom was the religious one. And
        it’s not like McVeigh either.
        Bullshit white supremacy and
        American conspiracy, that’s not me
        either. I don’t give one shit,
        about politics or anyone for that
        matter. I'm sure you already know
        that.
            (clears his throat)
        My dad worked at a rock quarry and
        he brought me to work with him
        once. He was their demolitions
        expert. I spent the entire day,
        watching him blow up walls of rock.
        It was amazing. Not to long after
        that, he was working in their
        demolitions shed and it blew up. A
        box of dynamite got wet. That’s
        what they said, anyway.
            (pause)
        I couldn’t get those images of the
        explosions out of my head.
        Destruction harnessed by a human
        hand. It was beautiful. I used to
        get fireworks and make explosives
        in the backyard. Then I started to
        tie them to bunny rabbits and stray
        cats I’d find. It was fun to see
        how far they’d get, before. Boom!
        Little furry pieces everywhere.
        Everything and everyone dies.
        There is no such thing as
        immortality. I just speed it
        along.
            (pause)
        We’ve meet before last night.

Michael looks back trying to see George in the passenger
seat.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        It was a couple of years ago. I
        wanted to see what a bomb does to a
        person. I wanted to see the...
           (thinking)
        Oh, what is it called Michael?

                  MICHAEL
        What?

                  GEORGE
        What you see when a person is blown
        up? When the bomb is right there?

                  MICHAEL
        Pink mist.

                  GEORGE
        Yeah, that. I tied this girl to a
        tree. She was a convenience store
        clerk from Little Rock. This was
        maybe seven or eight years ago.

Michael looks to be remembering a long forgotten memory. A
bad memory.

                 MICHAEL
           (anger rings in his voice)
        Seven. It was seven.

                 GEORGE
        You remember? Good. Then I tied a
        bomb to her chest. When it went
        off.
           (awe inspired and
            excited)
        It was the most beautiful thing I
        ever saw. It all happened in slow
        motion, like she was a star
        exploding or something. This solid
        thing turning into a cloud of
        being. Like her soul was unleashed
        into the air. Beautiful, just
        beautiful.
           (pause)
        I came back later and you were
        there.

Michael’s face shakes in emotion.

156 EXT. MICHAEL’S FLASHBACK - ARKANSAS PARK - DAY

There is a parking lot right up against the woods, which has
police tape across it. There is a huge amount of press
there. Michael emerges from the woods with other FBI agents.

Michael walks through the parking lot and the press run up to
him and franticly asking questions. One of the press members
is George. Michael ignores the press and walks away.
George smiles smugly as Michael pushes pass him.

157 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Michael’s face is red with anger. George laughs, happily.
With the phone in his hand, he gets out of the van. George
picks up a backpack, puts it over his shoulder, walks around
to the back van and opens the rear doors. He moves in toward
Michael, putting his face right into Michael’s.

                  GEORGE
        It's so funny, you sent an innocent 
        person to their death for that one. 
        Your whole career based catching the 
        Whisky River killer, and you didn't 
        really catch him.

Michael tries lunging at George, to no prevail. George jumps
back laughing.

                  MICHAEL
        FUCK YOU!

George shows Michael the screen of his cellphone with a
picture of Casey on it.

                  GEORGE
        I’m going after her next, Michael.
        You cant catch me. At least this
        time you wont be sending the wrong
        person to the chamber.

George drops the phone to the ground and steps on it. The
screen on the phone flickers off. He then glances up at the
timer, which is down to fifteen minutes. Michael is still
trying to lunge at him.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        Now, I have to go.

George moves in closer again, grabbing a hold the two doors.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        Go easy on yourself. You have a
        concussion.

George smiles and slams the doors shut on the van.

158 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George still smiles as the van begins to shake slightly, as
Michael tries to get loose. Muffled obscenities can be heard
from inside the van.

                 GEORGE
           (still laughing and
            yelling)
        Hey, careful! You may set off the
        bomb.

George walks toward the corridor that leads out to the
street. He reaches into the backpack, pulls out his gun and
tucks it into the back of his pants.

159 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Michael is struggling to get loose. He glances over to the
timer. There is now fourteen minutes left.

160 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - CORRIDOR - DAY

George is walking down the corridor to the street, which is
all quiet. He is nearly halfway to the street, when a
Atlanta POLICE OFFICER appears on the sidewalk ahead and sees
him. Georges smile disappears.

                 POLICE OFFICER
        Sir, you can’t come out here.

George continues walking toward the officer and then sees
other OFFICERS appear across the street.

                 GEORGE
        Why not?

                 POLICE OFFICER
        We’re closing down the street. For
        your safety, we need you to stay
        here.

There are now even more officers appearing across the street.
George looks apprehensive for a moment.

                 GEORGE
        Shit. Well it wouldn’t hurt if you
        let me go. I have a meeting.

                 POLICE OFFICER
        I’m sorry, sir, you can’t leave.
        It’s not safe.

George rolls his eyes.

                 GEORGE
        Well. I guess, I’ll just have to
        go back to my apartment, then.

                 POLICE OFFICER
        Thank you, sir.

George grabs his gun, points it at the Police Officers knee
cap and fires.

BANG. The gunshot echoes out into the street.

The Police Officer screams out in pain and falls to the
ground. George stands over him, picking him up by the collar
and stepping on his bleeding knee. The Police Officer
screams in pain.

                 GEORGE
            (menacingly)
        Now, listen here. I have this
        building wired to explode and its
        ready to go. No one, enters or
        leaves this building. I AM
        WATCHING!

George reaches into his pocket, pulls out Michael’s badge and
ID and throws it at the police officer.

                 GEORGE (CONT’D)
        I have this man as a hostage. You
        got that?

                 POLICE OFFICER
            (painfully)
         Yes.

George lets go of the Police Officer and walks back into the
parking garage.

Source
161 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George rounds the corner out of the corridor into the garage,
out of view of the corridor. He becomes enraged. He trashes
and kicks at the air. He kicks a near by car and slams fists
into the cars hood, several times, producing a large dent.

He stops. His face is red with anger and he leans on the
car.

                 GEORGE
        Okay. You’ve planed for this.

He exhales loudly, regaining his composure.

162 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Michael is pulling at the rope that binds his hands together.

                 MICHAEL
        Come on.

He tries standing but is unable to. He can’t get loose.

163 EXT. ATLANTA - DOWNTOWN STREET - DAY

It’s pure chaos on the street. There are police cars, as
well as unmarked FBI cars in the street. Distressed business
men and women are evacuating out of a skyscraper. Albert
stands in the middle of the street watching with a stressed
looks on his face. Junior and Taylor run up to him a panic.

                 JUNIOR
        Director Spears. Shots fired and a
        police officer down. The bomber
        says he has two, thirty-three
        Fremont, wired to blow. He has
        Agent Abbott.

Albert stares at Junior for a long moment, taking in the new
news.

                 ALBERT
        God damn it, Michael. Get down
        there right now. Get the bomb
        squad and get every available agent
        down there.

164 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George is walking past the van, which has the sounds of
Michael trying to get loose. As he walks by, he glares at
the van, watching it carefully. He begins walking up an
incline to the other end the garage.

George checks his watch, the sounds of police car SIRENS can
be heard coming from the street. He reaches the top of the
incline.

                 GEORGE
        This is completely fucked up.

He is tackled and he falls to the ground with Michael on top
of him. Michael punches him in the face.

                 MICHAEL
        No. This is.

Michael punches him in the face again.

George kicks Michael in stomach, knocking the air out of him
and then pushes Michael off of him to the ground. George
stands and begins kicking Michael hard, repeatedly in the
side.

With every kick Michael he yells out in pain and is moved a
foot or two away from George. George then stomps on
Michael’s right hand and breaks a few bones in it. Michael
screams out in pain.

                 GEORGE
        I’m sorry. Are you right handed?

George goes in for another kick, which is caught by Michael.
George struggles for balance and falls backward away from
Michael.

He regains his footing, just as Michael gets back to his
feet. George pulls his gun and is just raising it at
Michael. Michael lunges at George. They fall onto a hood of
a nearby car.

Michael grabs the arm holding the gun and struggle with the
gun. George pulls the trigger till the gun is empty. BANG.
BANG. BANG. Bullets shoot through the windshield of the
car. The glass shatters.

Michael kicks George in the stomach, causing him to drop the
gun. The gun slides off of the hood and falls to the floor.
With his left hand, Michael hits George across the face
several times.

George manages to get his right arm free and begins to hit
Michael repeatedly in this ribs, that he was kicking earlier.
Michael screams out in pain and pushes himself up and away
from George. He punches George hard across the face.

Michael then, flips George over on his stomach, grabs him by
the hair on the back of his head and slams Georges face hard
into the hood. He pulls George’s head up again, then slams
it down again. He repeats as necessary, till George’s face
bleeds gruesomely and he is knocked out. Michael gasps for
air.

                 MICHAEL
        Go easy on yourself. You have a
        concussion.

Michael stands looking a little dizzy. He looks at his
broken hand. It is beginning to swell and a piece of bone
sticks out of the top of it. He takes a deep breath and
winces. He puts a hand over the side that was kicked.

Michael looks back a George with an angry look. He then
grabs George by one of his legs and drags him off of the car.
When his head hits the concrete floor hard and he groans
slightly. Michael begins dragging him face down, back toward
the van leaving a small trail of blood behind him.

165 INT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - CAR - DAY 

Taylor and Junior speed down the street and slow as they
reach the parked state police car. There is a group of
POLICE OFFICERS, standing at the entrance of the parking
garage. A black van marked SWAT is parked near by.
166 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Michael has just reached the van, still dragging George.
                  MICHAEL
           (slurring)
        Five years of my life. Running 
        around in circles, looking
        like a horses ass. All to catch
        you. Get my ass kicked in process.

He drops George’s leg as he reaches the van and opens the
back doors with his good hand. He glances at the timer.
Eight minutes left.

                  MICHAEL (CONT’D)
        But it’s all okay, now.

Michael picks up the rope that bound him earlier, off of the
floor of the van. The barrel that he was tied to has been
pulled up from floor of the van. He ties up Georges hands.

George begins to mumble, his face even more bloody from being
dragged across the floor. Michael looks down and sees his
smashed phone on the ground. He stands unsteady, putting his
left hand on the cut on his head. He kicks, George violently
in the side.

                  MICHAEL (CONT’D)
        With more than enough time.

He turns toward the corridor and takes a step.

BANG. BANG.

Two flashes from a gun erupt from behind a car near the
corridor and Michael is hit in the chest twice. He falls to
his knees and then to the ground next to George, face to
face. Michael gasps for air as he grasps at the new,
bleeding gunshot wounds on his chest.

Source
167 EXT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - DAY

Taylor and Junior are at the entrance of the parking garage.
Taylor holds a radio in her hand. They both stare at the
entrance, having just heard the gunshots.

From Taylor’s radio, comes the voice of a ATLANTA SWAT TEAM
member.
                  ATLANTA SWAT TEAM (V.O.)
        The subject is down. The lot has
        been cleared.

There are the sounds of sirens all around and police and
emergency vehicles are coming down the street from both
sides. Taylor and Junior run into the parking garage.

168 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Michael is on the ground, his chest bleeding in the two spots
where he was shot. Across the garage is the Atlanta Swat
Team member that shot him. He carefully approaches with his
gun pointed at Michael.

Another SWAT TEAM MEMBER appears from behind a near by car, a
few feet from where the van is parked. Taylor and Junior run
in from the corridor with there guns drawn. Taylor sees
Michael with the swat team member standing over him, pointing
his gun at him.

                  TAYLOR
        Michael.

Taylor runs toward Michael with Junior running after her.
They arrive on the scene. Junior looks in dismay at Michael.

                  JUNIOR
           (desperately)
        Stand down. He’s one of ours.

Taylor kneels down at Michael’s side and look at the gunshot
wounds in his chest. Junior pushes the swat team member out
of the way and looks down at Michael.

                  TAYLOR
        Michael. You’ve been shot.

                  MICHAEL
           (struggling)
       No, shit.

She looks up at the Atlanta Swat Team member in a panic.

                  TAYLOR
       Get an ambulance, now! Take your
       team with you! We need as many
       people as possible, to evacuate the
       block!

Michael is looking up at Junior and weakly with his broken
hand, points at the van. Junior looks over at the bomb and
slowly approaches it. He sees the timer. Four minutes left.

                  TAYLOR (CONT’D)
       Help is on the way, Michael.

Junior looks in horror at the bomb.

169 EXT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - DAY

The street is blocked off and there are several FBI car in
the street with AGENTS and POLICE OFFICERS running toward the
buildings. One unmarked sedan pulls up, parks and Albert
gets out. He holds a radio in his hand.

                  ALBERT
           (to a near by agent)
       Get into these buildings and tell
       everyone to get to the side of
       building, away from this one, till
       we can evacuate them!
           (to the radio)
       Agent Martin, report.

He looks at the entrance of the parking garage with a worried
look.

170 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Taylor is raising her radio up to her face.

                  TAYLOR
       Agent Abbott is down.

Junior is just backing away from the van.

                  JUNIOR
           (panicked)
       Where’s the bomb squad?

                  TAYLOR
           (into the radio)
       What’s the ETA on the bomb squad?

                  ALBERT (V.O.)
       Four minutes.

Taylor looks up at Junior. Junior’s face looks to be full of
fear.

                  JUNIOR
       That’s not enough time.

Junior then looks at Michael. Michael motions with his head
at the van. Junior glances over to the bomb and then back to
Michael. He nods and quickly jumps into the van.

                  TAYLOR
           (into the radio)
       They’re not going to get here in
       time. Evacuate the area, the best
       you can.

                  MICHAEL
       Taylor. Go.

                  TAYLOR
           (into the radio)
       Forget about us. We’ll try and
       stop it.

Juniors voice echoes from the van.

                  JUNIOR (O.S.)
       Tell them they only have three
       minutes.

                  TAYLOR
           (in the radio)
       Three minutes.

She puts the radio down.

                  MICHAEL
       Go.

                  TAYLOR
           (stubbornly)
       No. I haven’t put up with you for
       this long and everything we’ve been
       through together, to just leave you
       here to die alone with Junior.
       That’s a just depressing thought.

She places her hands on his wounds and applies pressure. He
winces in pain.

Source
171 EXT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - DAY

Albert stands, staring vacantly at the garage entrance. He
raises his radio to his face and calmly speaks into the
radio.

                 ALBERT
       Evacuate the area. All inbound
       units, stand down.

He throws the radio into his car, angrily.

172 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Junior stands in the van frantically, looking over the bomb
with a small flashlight. He is beginning to sweat.

173 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Taylor continues to put pressure on Michael's wounds. George
groans as he slowly comes around. He face rests on the
concrete floor. He sees Taylor.

                  GEORGE
           (slurring)
        Hey, there baby. How about a
        little medical attention over her?

She glares at him. Michael’s breathing is labored.

174 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Junior is looking over the timer, carefully. He shakes
nervously as he shines the light on each individual wire,
where it attaches to the bomb.

                  JUNIOR
        This many years, you’d think I’d
        pick up on how to stop one of
        these. Fuck my life.

He reaches out and places his fingers on one of the wires.
He is about to pull the wire and he stops.

                  JUNIOR (CONT’D)
        No, that’s not it.

He stands up and in a fit of rage kicks one of the barrels
violently.

                  JUNIOR (CONT’D)
        GOD DAMN IT!

175 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Junior’s continuing outburst can be heard and Taylor look
around nervously. Michael looks at her, his face showing the
pain he is in. He reaches up with his unbroken hand, pushes
hers away and covers his wounds.

                  MICHAEL
        Go help him.

She nods and moves over the van. Looking in she looks at the
timer. Two minutes, left. Junior faces her.

                  JUNIOR
        We don’t have enough time!

                  TAYLOR
           (shaky voice)
        Junior, calm down. Lets look at
        the timer.

The looks back at the timer. She gets up into the van with
him.

176 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Together Junior and Taylor look at the wires connecting to
the timer.

177 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George is laughing slightly, staring at Michael who looks
directly up at the ceiling.

                  GEORGE
        I guess we’re all going to go up?

                  MICHAEL
        Yeah, probably.

                  GEORGE
        You failed, Michael.

Michael looks over at him with an angry look. He’s getting
very pale.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        You failed every one. There’s
        still going to be a couple hundred
        people in this building, plus the
        collateral damage. Your daughter
        going to go the rest of her life
        without her father and is going to
        know that he died saving no one.
        Neglecting her for her entire life.
        She’ll hate you.

Michael's face quivers and looks away. He struggles a little
more, trying to breath.

                  GEORGE (CONT’D)
        You may not have to live with that
        anymore but she will. Forever.
        She’ll wear all of the dead, that
        you do. Every birthday, from here
        on out, she’ll remember. Her daddy
        failed.

Michael closes his eyes tightly.

178 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

The timer is under a minute.

179 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George is laughing and Michael looks over to him with an
angry look.

                  GEORGE
        We get to see the pink mist,
        together.

He laughs harder.

180 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - VAN - DAY

Taylor and Junior stare at the timer, counting down the
seconds. They have terror on their face.

                  JUNIOR
        Fuck it.

Junior reaches under the bomb. Taylor looks on nervously.

181 EXT. ATLANTA - FREMONT STREET - DAY

Albert is standing outside the parking garage at his sedan.
He is alone in the street. He stares apprehensively at the
building. He taps his fingers on the top of the car. He
looks to be waiting for the worse to happen and holds his
breath. His face is looks like death. Taylor’s voice
crackles over the radio.

                  TAYLOR (V.O.)
        Bomb secure. We need a medic.

Albert exhales and breathes steady.

                  ALBERT
        Thank, God.

He leans on the car and rubs his hands over his face.

182 INT. ATLANTA - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

George’s face looks blank, as he stares into space.
Michael’s face is very pale. Taylor kneels over Michael.
Junior is walking out of the van looking, like he’s about to
keel over. He sits down on the ground. His face is covered
in sweat. Junior lies back onto the concrete floor.

                  JUNIOR
           (labored breath)
       Six years of college, for what.
       Car chases. Bombs. I need a
       fucking desk job. Fuck. My wife,
       is going to kill me.
           (to Taylor)
       Is he going to be okay?

Michael, struggles to breath.

                  MICHAEL
           (to Taylor)
       He fucking complains too, much.

                  JUNIOR
       Yeah, he’ll be fine.

Michael raises his head, shakily.

                  TAYLOR
           (to Michael)
       Helps on the way.

                  MICHAEL
       I really hate this job. I’m going
       home and taking a vacation.

                  TAYLOR
       You haven’t taken a vacation in
       long time.

                  MICHAEL
       Yeah. Five years. It is, what it
       is, right?

                  TAYLOR
           (with a smile)
       Yeah.

He rest his head on the ground and she smiles at him.

183 INT. WASHINGTON - WHITE HOUSE - OFFICE - DAY

Paul sits behind his desk with Albert siting in a chair
across from him. They looks as if they’re in the middle of a
staring contest with their mutual detain for one another
playing out on their faces.

                  PAUL
       You disobeyed a direct order.

                  ALBERT
       I did no such thing. Michael did
       everything on his own.

                  PAUL
       So, he went rogue?

                  ALBERT
       No. He was just Michael, being
       Michael. He did what he thought
       was the right thing do and it was.

                  PAUL
       So, what punishment did you give
       him?

                  ALBERT
       Well, I can’t fire him. That would
       look bad, since he’s a hero and
       all. I put him on paid leave.

                  PAUL
       I heard he was taking a month long
       vacation.

                  ALBERT
       Look at it whatever way you want.
       I call it a punishment for gross
       insubordination. I’m sure you’ll
       be making my life a living hell,
       from now on. Right, Paul?

Paul smiles maliciously.

                  PAUL
       Something like that.

                  ALBERT
       Well, I’m saving you the
       satisfaction. I’m retiring at the
       end of the month. I owe my wife 
       a European vacation, that I 
       promised her twenty years ago. I 
       just can’t do the politics anymore.

Paul’s smile disappears.

                   PAUL
       What about this bomber? Who is he?

                   ALBERT
       We don’t know and we’ll never know.

A mix of confusion and anger flash across his face.

                   PAUL
       How the FUCK is that possible?

                   ALBERT
       He hasn’t said one word since he
       was arrested. We could only trace
       him back to when he assumed that
       Colorado mans identity. It looks
       like he lived on that willow his
       entire adult life. He squatted
       there at first. Then when he got
       means he bought it from the state.
       It was in the middle of nowhere.
       He’s going to be in jail for the
       rest of his life, regardless. But,
       in the end... It doesn’t matter.
          (pause)
       Who gives a shit who he is or why
       he did it. It doesn’t matter if he
       goes to jail, gets the electric
       chair, or got away with it all. In
       the end, there are a lot of
       children without one of their
       parents, because of him. No
       explanation or justice can make
       that up for that. Their lives are
       changed forever. It’s the raw end
       of deal, being the victim. It’s
       now about how they live from here
       on out, in spite of it all. Some
       will let it bug them for the rest
       of their lives. On the other hand
       most will find a way to get over
       it. They’ll heal the wounds
       created by this monster. Him being
       punished will never help that
       process.

Albert stares at Paul with a look of displeasure on his face.

184 INT. HOUSE - ENTRYWAY - DAY

The entryway has brightly painted walls and dark hard wood
floors. There is a stairway that leads upstairs. The
doorbell RINGS and Casey excitedly rushes into the room to
answer it. At the door is Michael with a bandage on his
head, cast on his right hand and his face is bruised up. He
smiles at Casey.

                  CASEY
        Dad!

They hug lovingly and Michael looks to be relishing the
moment.

                  MICHAEL
        It’s good to see you. Are you
        ready?

They let go of one another.

                  CASEY
        Yes. I just have to get my bag
        from upstairs.

                  MICHAEL
        Actually, I can get it for you.

                  CASEY
           (concerned)
        Are you sure?

He raises his left hand toward her.

                  MICHAEL
        Yeah. My left hand’s still good.

He smiles at her and climbs the stairs.

185 INT. HOUSE - CASEY’S BEDROOM - DAY

Her room looks about the same as it did before, except
cleaner and now has posters of Justin Beiber on the wall.
Michael steps into the room and looks around. He looks
disturbed by the poster on the wall. He sees her bag on the
bed.

Michael walks over and picks up the bag. He turns and then
stops when he notices something on her dresser. It is a
baseball with a signature on it. It’s the foul ball from the
baseball game. He smiles at it. Jessica appears at the door
and looks in at him. He looks over at her still wearing the
smile.

                  JESSICA
        You look like you lost the fight.

                  MICHAEL
        I got my ass kicked. But I won.

She smiles at him. He glances at the poster again and back
over at her.

                  MICHAEL (CONT’D)
        By the way.
           (points at the poster)
        That is gratuitous.

                  JESSICA
        She’s into boy’s now, Mike. It was
        inevitable.

He stars walking toward her.

                  MICHAEL
        Well, when she starts bringing them
        around, remind them that her father
        is an FBI agent with a gun.

                  JESSICA
        You can tell them that yourself.

                  MICHAEL
           (smiles mischievously)
        Oh, I will.

She steps back out of doorway and he walks out into the
hallway.

186 INT. MICHAEL’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

The TV is on a DVD menu. Casey sits on the couch as Michael
walks in. He holds a bowl of a popcorn. He takes a seat
with her, slowly and in pain. He picks up the remote and
starts the movie. They sit watching.

On the stand, Michael’s cellphone begins vibrating. Casey
looks over at it with destain. Michael picks up the phone
and looks at the call. Casey look a little angry.

He presses a button and sends it to voicemail. He then turns
off the phone. He sets the phone back on the table and goes
back to watching the TV. Casey moves closer to Michael. She
curls up next to him, placing her head on his chest.

Michael smiles and wraps his cast clad hand around her and
kisses her on the head. She smiles.

                                                      FADE OUT.
                          THE END

© 2015 Austin James Marion

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