by David Mamet
HILL: Well. Somebody was going to have to die. Them or you.
JABLONSKI: Yes, that's true. And we knew it was true. (Beat.)
RENKO: Are you ever sorry that you killed him?
JABLONSKI: I'm sorry every day I live. (Beat.) But I wasn't going to let the man kill me . . .
HILL: Well.
JABLONSKI: Gentlemen: we're going hunting tomorrow. I think we should get some rest.
(JABLONSKI blows out the lamp. The men settle back in their blankets.)
JABLONSKI: Good night, men.
HILL: Good night, Sarge . . .
RENKO: Good night, Sarge.
INTERIOR: GOLDBLUME'S CAR.
GOLDBLUME driving, the ROBBER still holding him at gunpoint.
GOLDBLUME: I . . .
ROBBER: Just drive. Just keep on driving . . . (The ROBBER looks in the backseat.)
ROBBER: What is all that junk back there? (Beat.) I asked you a question.
GOLDBLUME (pauses): I'm going hunting.
ROBBER: Hunting.
(Beat. The ROBBER takes out a cigarette. Looks for a match. Can't find one, starts patting down GOLDBLUME. Feels the gun underneath his jacket.)
What is that??? What is that???
GOLDBLUME (to himself): Oh, my God . . .
ROBBER: What the hell is that??? (He takes out GOLDBLUME‘s revolver.)
GOLDBLUME: I . . . (Beat.) I'm a police officer.
ROBBER: Oh. I got to pick a Cop. All the stuff that's already happened to me . . . oh man . . . oh man . . . pull the car over . . .
GOLDBLUME: Look.
ROBBER (cocks the revolver): I said pull over the car.
(ANGLE EXTERIOR: THE CAR, ON AN ALREADY LONELY TWO-LANE BLACKTOP, PULLS OVER ONTO A DIRT ROAD.)
(Angle: The car struggling through the dirt lane. It stops.)
ROBBER: Get out. (Beat.) I said get out. Take the keys.
(GOLDBLUME gets out. The ROBBER goes around to the back of the car. He motions GOLDBLUME around to the back.)
Open the trunk.
GOLDBLUME: I think we should talk about this.
ROBBER: I said open the trunk and when you open it then get in.
(The trunk is opened. The ROBBER looks in.)
No. No.
(He takes out a shovel, throws it to GOLDBLUME.)
Okay, you start digging.
(Beat. GOLDBLUME looks at him.)
GOLDBLUME: Please don't do this.
ROBBER: Dig a grave.
(Beat. GOLDBLUME starts digging.)
EXTERIOR: CABIN. DAWN.
RENKO drinking from a metal can of orange juice. Standing next to HILL, both in full hunting clothes, blaze orange, daypacks on their backs, rifles over their shoulders. They are standing around a wood fire on the ground that is being tended by JABLONSKI.
HILL (of orange juice): Gimme some of that . . .
(HILL drinks from the can. JABLONSKI calls them over.)
JABLONSKI: Okay. Stand in the woodsmoke. It's gonna hide any “city” scents that you have on you.
RENKO: Uh-huh . . .
JABLONSKI: Deer don't mind the smoke, but they'll run fifteen miles from the scent of After Shave.
RENKO: Well, some of us more sartorial ones have that problem . . .
(JABLONSKI starts killing the fire.)
JABLONSKI: That's enough.
(He shovels earth on the fire.)
RENKO (to HILL): Beautiful morning, huh?
HILL: You said it.
RENKO: Wish Henry was here . . .
JABLONSKI: Okay, let's move out. No talking in the woods.
RENKO: You got it.
(The three men fan out and proceed slowly to a barbed-wire fence. They open the actions of their rifles and cross the fence. Close up their actions and proceed into the woods.)
EXTERIOR: DIRT ROAD. DAWN.
The ROBBER holding the gun on GOLDBLUME, who has just finished digging a shallow grave.
ROBBER: Alright.
(GOLDBLUME stops digging. Beat.)
GOLDBLUME: And, and, and, that's it. Now you're going to kill me?
ROBBER: Oh, man, you know I have to kill you . . .
GOLDBLUME: You have to kill me?
ROBBER: Kidnapped a cop! Man . . . the climate in this state, that's . . . you know that I have to kill you. They catch me, they're going to kill me, what are you talking about?
GOLDBLUME: And what about if you didn't, if you didn't kidnap a cop. They, I know who you are . . .
ROBBER: You know who I am.
GOLDBLUME: They want you for those currency exchange . . .
ROBBER: And what do you know about me?
GOLDBLUME: A description.
ROBBER: A description.
GOLDBLUME: We don't know your name, we . . .
ROBBER: What are you tellin’ me . . . ?
GOLDBLUME: I'm telling you that no one has anything. They have an M.O. You lay off, you move off, and I'm going to let this go.
ROBBER: You're going to let what go?
GOLDBLUME: I'm sposed to be hunting. No one knows where I am. Nobody knows. Nobody saw me get into that car, No One Knows Where I Am. If I go back tomorrow. I can go back, and this never happened. You take the car. Take the car, take the . . . it has guns in it, food, take it. I stopped by the road, I'll say I stopped, and you have hours, “Someone stole my car.” (Beat.) You hear what I'm saying?
ROBBER: I kidnapped you, man.
GOLDBLUME: No kidnapping. No. No . . . I Never Saw You. I saw you in a lineup I'd say . . . I never saw, I never saw this man before. You're a face on a circular. Look, look, look . . . what's in it for you? No kidnapping. No federal, no capital offense, you know, you know if you do this: you know they'll find you. I'm saying: Go Free: whatever it is that you want. That you want to do, you do it. I'm saying, all I'm saying: leave me here. I'm begging you. And something in it for both of us. You do what you want, but I'm saying . . . this, this, this is the right thing for us both.
ROBBER: You know that I can't believe you, man.
GOLDBLUME: It's the right thing. You know it is. Now you don't want to kill me. You want to ... because you'd be killing us both. Think about you. I never saw you. I never saw you. (GOLDBLUME sits down on the edge of the grave and hangs his head.) I never saw you, this never happened, and you can go free, I never was kidnapped, I never saw you . . . (He tenses up.)
EXTERIOR: WOODS. DAY.
The three cops moving slowly through the woods. JABLONSKI hand-signals them to look ahead. They look ahead.
Angle point of view: A buck, his head down, in a thicket ahead.
Angle: The men signal HILL to move ahead and take a shot. HILL moves slowly forward, starts to bring his rifle up and takes a step. HILL screams.
HILL: Oh my God!!!
(The two other men run up to him.)
JABLONSKI: What is it . . . ???
RENKO: Bobby!!! Bobby!!! What is it???
HILL: I stepped on a . . .I stepped on a . . .I got a damn spike through my foot!!!
(He continues moaning as the two men start to minister to him.)
EXTERIOR: ROADSIDE. DAY.
GOLDBLUME, his head down, still on the edge of the grave. Beat. He hears the sound of a car driving away. Beat. He starts to cry. He raises his head.
Angle: GOLDBLUME on the grave. He looks around him. He is alone. The car is gone. He slowly gets up out of the grave. He is still crying. He quiets himself. He starts back to the road. It is just dawn. Camera follows him out to the road. He sees a car coming down the road. He holds out his thumb. The car does not stop. Hold. Another car comes down the road. GOLDBLUME waves his arms. The car does not stop. GOLDBLUME hangs his head. Tries to get his breathing under control. He hears another car. Raises his head. He hunts in his pockets, holds up his shield. As the sound of the car approaches, he screams:
GOLDBLUME: Won't somebody help me??? Isn't anybody going to help me??? I'm a.police officer!!!
INTERIOR: RUN-DOWN CABIN. DAY.
All of t
he hunting paraphernalia and foodstuffs have been packed. HILL is sitting on the table, his foot is being bandaged by RENKO.
HILL: Hell of an ending for a weekend in the country.
RENKO: Well, these things happen, my boy.
HILL: Should've looked where I was going.
JABLONSKI: Can't look where you're going, look at the deer the same time . . .
HILL: Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh man, I'm going to get tetanus, get a “shot, “ walk with my foot in a cast for the whole time . . .
RENKO: What is life without adventure . . . ?
JABLONSKI: Come on, I want to get you to a hospital . . .
HILL: No. I'm fine, I'm fine, man, don't go make a spectacle of me . . . let's get the place straightened out, and then we'll head back to town.
(RENKO holds up a four-inch rusty spike.)
RENKO: I'm going to save this spike, Bobby Hill, get it mounted on a big plush plaque, hang in your knotty-pine den as a memento of our Hunting Trip.
JABLONSKI: And wasn't that buck something?
RENKO: Had to go six points, a hundred ninety pounds.
HILL: Hundred ninety, are you guys nuts? That there was a ten point buck, over two hundred five, two hundred ten pounds, man, I got the glass on him, he blotted out the sky . . . !
RENKO: He's still there, Babe. He's still there, next week, week after.
HILL: When we all going to get free time together again . . . ?
RENKO: Then we will bear him in our memory.
INTERIOR: HILL STREET SQUAD ROOM. DAY.
A hubbub at the front desk. GOLDBLUME comes in, disheveled.
KHAKI OFFICER: Lieutenant Goldblume, we didn't expect you ‘til . . .
GOLDBLUME: Well you know, I . . . I'd like the form “carrying a backup gun . . .” Could you please . . .
(He points toward his office, and continues there. Camera follows BATES over to him.)
BATES: Surprised to see you back, Lieutenant. Hope things went well with your secret Society of Hunters.
GOLDBLUME: Yeah, my car was stolen. I never got th . . .
BATES: Your car was stolen . . . ?
(BELKER walks outside the office. To BATES:)
BELKER: Sarge? Could I talk to you a moment. You're back early, Lieutenant? Any luck . . . ?
(BELKER and BATES walk off. GOLDBLUME fumbles his key right out of his pocket. Unlocks his desk, takes out a revolver from the desk drawer. Opens it, checks that it is unloaded. He takes out a box of shells and loads the revolver. As he is loading it the KHAKI OFFICER enters.)
KHAKI OFFICER: Form, Back-up Revolver, carrying of.
(He puts the form on the desk. GOLDBLUME finishes loading the revolver, puts it in his holster.)
GOLDBLUME: Thank you.
KHAKI OFFICER: And, sir, you will have to schedule time at the range, and qualify to . . .
GOLDBLUME: Yes, yes, let's do that right now.
KHAKI OFFICER: I can . . .
(GOLDBLUME gets up and walks the KHAKI OFFICER out of his office. Camera follows GOLDBLUME.)
GOLDBLUME: Let's do that right away, tell them I can come right down . . .
(They go back to the front desk, passing BUNTZ.)
BUNTZ: Get ‘em already, Lieutenant. Am I going to walk out that door and see a hundred twelve pound buck strapped on the fenders of your car . . . ?
(At the front desk, the KHAKI OFFICER calls the range to make an appointment for GOLDBLUME. GOLDBLUME looks on.)
KHAKI OFFICER (on phone): . . . he's free to . . .
GOLDBLUME: I'm free right now, I can come right down and . . .
(He hears a voice over his shoulder.)
VOICE (Proprietor of Currency Exchange): They said that he was probably still in the area.
(GOLDBLUME turns and sees the PROPRIETOR. Beat.)
PROPRIETOR: They said he was probably in the area the whole time. You could of seen him on the street. (The PROPRIETOR holds up the composite circular of the ROBBER.) You could of even gotten a look at him.
GOLDBLUME: I didn't see anyone on the street.
PROPRIETOR: They said come down, look at mug books. I said “Yes, it's going to help you catch that guy, you bet I will, before he . . .”
GOLDBLUME: Uh-huh . . .
PROPRIETOR: Before he kills someone . . .
(The OFFICER escorting the PROPRIETOR takes him by the arm.)
OFFICER: This way, sir.
PROPRIETOR: And, you ask me, though you didn't ask me, I think that you should have stayed to help. (The PROPRIETOR walks off.)
KHAKI OFFICER (to GOLDBLUME): One thirty this afternoon. Range qualifying session.
GOLDBLUME: Thank you. (GOLDBLUME starts to walk, somewhat shakily, back to his office. Camera follows. Over his shoulder:) Could someone get me a form, please, for a stolen car . . .
(Camera follows him into his office. He locks the door behind him, sits at his desk. He looks through a group of papers on his desk. Takes one out, looks at it.)
(Angle point of view: It is the composite drawing of the ROBBER.)
(Angle: GOLDBLUME looking at the drawing. He hears a knocking at his door. He looks up.)
(Angle point of view: It is Captain FURRILLO knocking at the door. GOLDBLUME guiltily shuffles the drawing back into the stack. He goes up and opens the door. FURRILLO enters.)
FURRILLO: You're back early.
GOLDBLUME: I, well, you know.
FURRILLO: I wanted to thank you, for giving the speech.
GOLDBLUME: Um-hmmm.
FURRILLO: I think . . . it took a little bit of courage to talk to those kids about some serious stuff. (Beat.) Are you alright?
GOLDBLUME: Up all night.
FURRILLO: Well. Thank you.
GOLDBLUME: Mmm.
(Beat. FURRILLO exits. GOLDBLUME takes out the circular from the pile of papers.)
(Angle point of view: The circular.)
(ANGLE INTERIOR: THE SQUAD ROOM. BATES and BUNTZ jabbering.)
BATES: . . . just a bunch of manly nonsense, and there's enough violence in the world . . .
BUNTZ: It's manly nonsense if it's not your “thing” if not, what is this, "Name calling ...”
BATES: Oh Not To The Deer! Not if the Deer is killed, then it's not name calling . . .
(ANGLE INTERIOR: GOLDBLUME'S OFFICE. GOLDBLUME, watching BATES and BUNTZ. AS their conversation takes them off screen, behind them, he sees the PROPRIETOR looking through the mug shots. Beat. GOLDBLUME gets up, holding the composite drawing. Camera follows him out of his office over to FURRILLO’S office. He knocks on the door.)
FURRILLO (through the door): Come in.
(GOLDBLUME enters, camera follows. FURRILLO looks up from his papers.)
GOLDBLUME: I was kidnapped last night.
EXTERIOR: RUN-DOWN HUNTING SHACK. DAY.
The station wagon loaded. JABLONSKI and RENKO helping the injured HILL to the car.
JABLONSKI: Give one last sweep to the area, and let's head home.
(They put HILL into the car, then stand and sweep the area.)
RENKO: Didn't even fire a shot.
JABLONSKI: Well, sometimes that's the way it is.
(Angle point of view: The orange-juice can sitting up on a stump.)
(Angle: RENKO and JABLONSKI.)
JABLONSKI: "Leave it better than you found it.”
(JABLONSKI starts to walk toward the orange-juice can. RENKO motions him back behind him. JABLONSKI steps back behind him. RENKO looks at the orange-juice can for a long moment. Sweeps his hunting jacket aside, draws his revolver and fires three shots at the orange-juice can. Beat.) (Angle point of view: The orange-juice can still standing.)
(Angle: JABLONSKI and RENKO. RENKO shrugs. JABLONSKI gets into the station wagon and starts it. RENKO walks over to the orange-juice can and puts it in his pocket.)
We Will Take You There
Episode One:
A Hudson's Bay Start
The Lord knows what we may find, dear lass,
And the Deuce knows what
we may do—
But we're back once more on the old trail,
our own trail, the out trail,
We're down, hull-down, on the Long Trail—
the trail that is always new.
—RUDYARD KIPLING
Dramatis Personae
DANNY ESPOSITO
MIKE ANDERTON
MACLAREN
PROFESSOR GEORGE SCHOLTZ
KAREN SCHOLTZ, HIS WIFE
PROLOGUE
A quiet side-street somewhere in small-town America. An old brickface garage, its one large door open. A postman moves past the door. A young man carrying a suitcase, a coat slung over his shoulder, moves into the frame and stands with his back to the camera. We have not seen his face. He stands for a moment outside the garage door, then enters.
Camera follows him and we see, over his shoulder, an old Land-Rover, up on blocks, covered in primer. Its hood is open and a man is working on its engine.
The first man walks to within ten feet of the Land-Rover, puts down his suitcase. Speaks to the man working on the engine.
FIRST MAN (Danny Esposito): I heard you were looking for a partner.
SECOND MAN (Mike Anderton) (still working on the engine, not looking up): Where'd you hear that?
DANNY ESPOSITO: John Malone.
MIKE ANDERTON: Where do you know John from?
ESPOSITO: From around.
ANDERTON: Do better than that.
ESPOSITO: A man introduced us some years ago.
ANDERTON: Who was that man?
ESPOSITO: That man was you, companero.
(ANDERTON, a handsome, rugged man in his early thirties, slowly raises his head from the machine. Looks at the man opposite him.)
(Camera angle reverse: For the first time, we see their faces. ESPOSITO, an athletic Latin-American man in his early thirties, smiling at ANDERTON, who is stunned. Beat.)
ANDERTON: Man, I thought you were dead.
ESPOSITO: I told you: never believe that ‘les you hear it from my own lips.
(ANDERTON and ESPOSITO embrace.)
ANDERTON: Where have you been . . . ?
ESPOSITO (shrugs, smiles): Hey, you know . . .