by J. R. Rain
BORIS
Your son is safe, Ms. Morgan. For now.
Now, let me introduce you to my
Head of Security.
In that moment, from the shadows of the chopper’s cabin, appears another man. It’s Abdullah, the same Omanian slave master from long ago. He’s grinning wickedly.
ABDULLAH
Remember me?
Tess gasps, horrified. She looks at Morrie, who looks away, ashamed.
EXT. GAS STATION – DAY
When the chopper lifts off and flies away, kicking up dust and debris everywhere, Jack gets up from behind the crates, shielding his eyes. He looks utterly sickened that Tess is gone.
JACK
Some hero.
ZAHIR
(angrily)
Who are your friends?
JACK
They’re not my friends.
They stand there together and watch as the black chopper gets smaller and smaller. And then, inexplicably, the helicopter banks to port and turns back, heading directly toward them, growing rapidly larger. Swooping low to the ground.
ZAHIR
I don’t have a good feeling about this.
JACK
I don’t either.
(a beat)
Run!
They do, running hard for Jack’s Jeep. And just as Jack yanks open the driver’s side door, twin missiles streak from the chopper, slashing through the air, tearing through the sky, and head directly toward the gas station—
A MASSIVE EXPLOSION: The gas station is utterly obliterated. A black mushroom cloud rises up from the center of the station. The Jeep is rocked, nearly blown off its four wheels.
ZAHIR
My gas station!
The chopper returns again, this time spraying the ground with bullets.
INT. JEEP – DAY
Jack floors the Jeep. The vehicle kicks up dirt, slewing briefly sideways, and then they shoot forward. Behind them, the chopper bears down on them.
TIGHT ON THE BLACK CHOPPER: Swooping low to get a better angle on the Jeep. The cargo door is open. A man holding a machine gun hangs out by a harness. He takes aim—and pulls the trigger again.
INT. JEEP – DAY
Bullets shred the rear passenger compartment, puncturing through the fabric of the convertible roof, and tearing up the seat cushions. The bullets destroy most of the supplies and gear. Jack looks back, eyes wide, sees the damage as it is happening. He yanks the wheel hard to the right. The Jeep turns off the main road and bounds over a dirt embankment, and down into a natural ditch that runs parallel with the road. Zahir is hanging on for dear life.
ZAHIR
Good idea. Maybe the chopper doesn’t
have four-wheel drive. By Allah, I’m going
to die with this funny-looking American.
JACK
(briefly distracted)
Funny-looking?
ZAHIR
You all look funny to me.
Through the front windshield, Jack sees the chopper bank again, flying low to the ground. Bearing down on the Jeep again, more bullets kick up the dirt in front of them, forming a straight staccato line, heading directly toward them—
Jack jerks the wheel hard again. The jeep roars out of the ditch and into the open desert.
INT. JEEP – DAY
The chopper easily keeps pace and now bullets spray the dirt in front of them. And now the bullets slam into the hood and fender. Steam immediately erupts from the Jeep’s engine. Jack weaves and turns and dodges, plunging into arroyos, up embankments, doing all he can to shake the chopper. Finally, he turns into a narrow canyon, stepping on the gas—but all too soon he realizes it’s a dead end.
The Jeep isn’t holding up too well, either. White smoke pours out from under the hood. Finally the whole thing shuts down with a sputtering wheez. Jack grabs the shell-shocked gas station attendant.
JACK
C’mon!
Jack and Zahir scramble out of the Jeep and clamber up the steep slope. Jack uses his cane as a hiking stick, but he’s having a hard time of it, often slipping and nearly falling due to his bad leg. Zahir pulls him along. As they finally duck into a network of caves, the chopper releases one last Hellfire missile. It zips through the air...and BLOWS the Jeep to smithereens. A huge black and orange fireball gushes up into the sky.
WIDE CAMERA SHOT as the chopper turns away, disappearing over the horizon, its work here done.
INT. THE CAVE – DAY
Both Jack and Zahir creep out to the cave opening and look down at the mangled, smoking mess that had once been the Jeep. In the far distance, a black oily cloud billows into the sky. The remains of Zahir’s gas station.
ZAHIR
Someone owes me a new gas station.
They scramble down the cliff face and head out into the sweltering desert.
ZAHIR
You wouldn’t happen to have any water on you,
would you?
JACK
It was in the Jeep.
ZAHIR
What about a cell phone?
Jack opens his mouth to speak, but a disgusted Zahir raises his hand and stops him.
ZAHIR
Let me guess...in the Jeep.
EXT. EMPTY ROAD – DAY
Jack and Zahir are now wandering down the main highway through the Iranian desert. Both are beaten down and tired, covered in road dust and sweat.
ZAHIR
The gas station was my father’s. When he
was killed in the Iraqi wars, I quit college
to run it and take care of my mother and sisters.
The station was everything. Now we have nothing.
JACK
You have me.
ZAHIR
Allah help me.
(a beat)
So who was the girl?
JACK
A friend. A new friend. An old friend.
ZAHIR
A good friend?
JACK
You could say that.
SLOW DISSOLVE: Heat waves. Shimmering mirages. The relentless pounding of the sun. Blowing sand. The scuttle of desert critters. Both men have wrapped their outer shirts around their heads—protection against the brutal sun. Zahir suddenly runs forward, grinning like a fool.
ZAHIR
Water! I see water!
JACK
It’s just a mirage, Zahir. Again.
ZAHIR
(running)
No...this time it is different! It is a beautiful,
wonderful pool of cool blue water—
He keeps running foolishly down the road. Jack shakes his head. Zahir continues running, pleading with the retreating pool of water:
ZAHIR
Stop! Come back!
Jack , however, does stop. He slowly turns around. Squinting, he raises his hand and shields his eyes. He sees something in the far distance. Something coming toward them. Another mirage? It comes closer and closer—
JACK
I think the cavalry has arrived.
EXT. HIGHWAY – DAY
Some cavalry—a dilapidated wagon, pulled by a couple of scrawny horses. Jack and Zahir ride together in the back with other farm animals. Jack, spitting out a feather and looking miserable, shoos a chicken away with his cane. He sits back and closes his eyes.
Meanwhile, Zahir is having problems of his own. He seems to have drawn the ire of a cantankerous rooster. Man and fowl eyeball each other.
ZAHIR
Why did they take your girl?
JACK
She wasn’t my girl, and you wouldn’t
believe me if I told you.
ZAHIR
I also wouldn’t have believed that a heat-seeking
missile would destroy my gas station.
(a beat)
Try me.
Jack looks at him tiredly, then shrugs.
JACK
What the hell...
EXT. THE TOWN OF ABZTUL – DAY
Here, sheep outnum
ber people. Nomads and shepherds are the norm, practicing their simple ways of life as they have for thousands of years. Ancient stone fortresses dot the area, along with mosques and fluted minarets. A massive clock tower is situated in the center of the town. On the out-lying areas are mud and brick dwellings. The town itself rests at the base of an extinct volcano—the same volcano Tess had talked about earlier, the MOUNTAIN OF GOD. Not easily missed, it dominates the landscape.
TIME LAPSE as Jack tells his tale. When he’s finished, Zahir stares at him openly.
ZAHIR
The Garden of Eden?
JACK
Yes.
ZAHIR
For real?
JACK
Who knows?
ZAHIR
Someone destroyed my gas station because of
the Garden of Eden?
JACK
Apparently, yes.
ZAHIR
Someone owes me a new gas station. By Allah,
I will rebuild ‘Zahir’s Petrol and Goat Milk’!
JACK
Catchy.
As the horse-drawn wagon lumbers into the town, the driver looks increasingly nervous. Pedestrians stop and openly stare at the approaching wagon. The driver turns his head and speaks rapidly in the local dialect.
JACK
What’s he saying?
ZAHIR
It’s a local dialect. He said this place is cursed.
That the residents here do not associate with outsiders.
That some claim they belong to an ancient cult.
(a beat)
On second thought, I don’t need a new gas station.
Let’s go back.
JACK
Calm down, Zahir.
Jack looks at the driver, who’s now visibly trembling as they travel deeper into the small town. Jack surveys the surprisingly clean streets.
JACK
Looks okay to me.
ZAHIR
Famous last words.
The driver drops them off at a dimly lit coffee shop. As they step down, Jack turns to the driver, but the man is already snapping the reins and getting the hell out of there. A dust cloud billows up behind the cart. Rain begins to fall, slowly at first, and then more steadily. Jack and Zahir dash into the building.
INT. OLD COFFEE SHOP – DUSK
The shop itself is lifted from the pages of history. Gas lights, wood-burning stoves. Stone and mortar construction. Ancient and cozy. Outside, wind and rain howl past broken shutters. Jack and Zahir sit at an old wooden table. Around them are nomads and farmers, all wearing crude, home-made clothing.
JACK
We’re being watched.
Zahir’s eyes slowly sweep the room. All eyes are on them.
ZAHIR
Maybe it’s because you’re a foreigner
and you look funny.
JACK
I don’t look funny.
ZAHIR
With your blond hair and hairy forearms they
probably think you wandered in out of the
mountains. A hairy, white apeman. What are
they called in English?
JACK
A yeti?
ZAHIR
That’s it! A yeti!
JACK
I don’t look like a yeti.
ZAHIR
I can see the resemblance—
JACK
Never mind that! Let’s get out of here before
things turn ugly.
The American and Iranian polish off their drinks, and Jack leaves behind a small wad of bills on the table. As the two travelers head towards the entrance, a handful of burly men step away from the counter and block the way out.
ZAHIR
I think this door is closed.
Jack and Zahir turn on a dime and head back the other way, moving quickly now through the suddenly hostile coffee shop.
EXT. ALLEY BEHIND THE SHOP – DUSK
Jack and Zahir step out a back door and into an alley. Zahir looks around the spooky alley nervously, and then grabs hold of Jack’s arm.
ZAHIR
I think I liked it better inside!
But Jack brushes him off and moves determinedly forward, his cane clicking on the ancient, cobbled stones.
JACK
This way.
As they head through the dark alley toward the dimly lit street, a crowd of men appears from around the far corner, stepping into the alley, blocking the way. Jack grabs Zahir and pulls him back the way they had come.
JACK
This way, Zahir!
But now more men block their path from behind. They are trapped in the alley. Jack desperately looks up and scans the ancient, two-story building next to them. The brick structure seems to offer plenty of handholds.
JACK
I hope you can climb, Zahir.
Jack shoves his cane into a belt loop and both men grab hold of protruding bricks in the wall, and start climbing. The crowd silently gathers below, watching them ascend. The crowd doesn’t seem to be in a hurry, or particularly violent. They silently watch the duo climb, craning their heads up.
ZAHIR
(to himself)
Don’t look down, don’t look down,
don’t look...
But he looks down anyway and instantly gets dizzy. Zahir falters, loses his grip, and begins falling—
ZAHIR
Jack!
Jack’s hand snakes out and grabs hold of the Arab’s shoulder, pulling him back to safety.
JACK
Quit screwing around.
Zahir, gasping, hugs the wall like a lost lover. He very clearly isn’t screwing around. At a window, Jack uses the steel ball of his cane to smash through the glass—
INT. UNKNOWN ROOM – DUSK
They drop into a dark room. Old floorboards creak beneath them, along with the crunching of freshly broken glass. They’re in total darkness, with little ambient light coming in. Jack, using the tip of his cane as a guide, finds a wall and eventually a door. He opens it and peers cautiously out and sees—
INT. AN EMPTY HALLWAY
The coast is clear. Jack leads the way out of the room and into a hallway lined with doors. Zahir is close behind. Too close for Jack’s comfort. Irritated, he pushes the frightened gas station owner away.
They round a corner in the dark hallway—and come face-to-face with a very large man wielding a long, curved scimitar. Zahir yelps and turns to run, but slams immediately into a thick wooden beam. The attendant collapses in a heap of woolen robes, totally worthless.
JACK
Pathetic...
Jack quickly turns his attention back to the menacing man in front of him. The two slowly circle in the wide hallway. Jack holds his cane before him like a sword. Jack, as we have already seen, can expertly wield this cane. Jack lunges first, a move that’s meant to drive the ball of his cane straight into the man’s gut. But the big guy easily parries the attack, Sparks fly as cane and scimitar collide.
Jack strikes again, this time swinging the cane like a baseball bat. The man steps back and blocks the blow easily. Jack attacks again and again, wielding his cane as easily and efficiently as a master swordsman. But the large man is up to the challenge, protecting himself easily.
Zahir, now sitting up and rubbing his banged-up forehead, watches the ferocious fighting in the hallway, clearly awed by Jack’s considerable talent.
Finally, a gasping Jack realizes the man has yet to counterstrike him. The American leans over, wheezing for air. His opponent steps back. There’s barely a gleam of sweat on the man’s broad forehead. From behind him in the hallway, Jack hears the sound of hands slowly clapping. An exhausted Jack turns and sees:
THE POLICE CHIEF OF TEHRAN, who we met earlier. He’s standing in the hallway, one shoulder leaning casually against the wall, smoking a cigar.
CHIEF
You are very skilled Jack, but he won’t fight you.
You are of more use to us alive, than dead.<
br />
INT. A SPACIOUS ROOM AT THE INN – NIGHT
The room is creepy and dark, made even creepier by the lion and tiger skins on the walls and floor. Jack and Zahir stand alone. Candles burn from wall sconces. The only light in the room.
Zahir, clearly on edge, nervously scans the gloomy room. As he does so, a green vine slowly slithers along the wooden floor behind him. The vine appears to be coming from an unusual plant growing in the far corner of the dark room. The vine, so much like a green snake, undulates over the scarred wooden floor...and now begins to work its way up the Iranian’s pant leg.
ZAHIR
Yeah, Jack?
JACK
(studying the skull of a tiger)
Yeah, what?