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Willow - part five
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
- Willow - part one
Part one of the screenplay Willow, which follows FBI agent Michael Abbott as he tracks down an elusive serial bomber.
- Willow - part two
Part two of the screenplay Willow, which follows FBI agent Michael Abbott as he tracks down an elusive serial bomber.
- Willow - part three
Part three of the screenplay Willow, which follows FBI agent Michael Abbott as he tracks down an elusive serial bomber.
- Willow - part four
Part four of the screenplay Willow, which follows FBI agent Michael Abbott as he tracks down an elusive serial bomber.
© 2015 Austin James Marion