TOM
Don’t get any ideas. We’re four floors up. Besides, this is a modern hospital. None of the windows open.
Cat gives up, turns away angrily.
CLOSE ON TOM
A dawning suspicion in his eyes.
RESUME
Cat retreats to a corner of the room, sinks down to the floor. Her stare is sullen, angry. Tom looks at her thoughtfully.
TOM
You knew what I was saying. About the window.
Cat watches him. Her face gives nothing away. Tom moves closer, smiling despite himself.
TOM
You little con artist. You hear me.
Cat turns her head away from him.
TOM
This would be a lot easier if you’d talk to me.
She ignores him.
TOM
Come on. Say something. Anything. Name, rank, phone number, I don’t care. What’s your sign? What’s your favorite color? You like anchovies on your pizza?
(nothing)
Fine. I don’t need to waste my time.
Scowling, Tom KNOCKS on the door.
ANGLE ON THE DOOR
The POLICEMAN opens the door from outside.
POLICEMAN
All through in here, Dr. Lake?
TOM
I guess we are.
He is about to exit when …
CAT
(soft)
Cat.
TOM
She talks …
(to policeman)
Maybe you better give us a few more minutes.
The policeman closes the door, leaving them alone.
TOM
Did you say something?
CAT
(a beat, then:)
Cat.
TOM
Cat? Like in Catherine?
CAT
Cat. Name.
(shy smile)
Toe Mas.
Cat speaks with a slight ACCENT. Nothing we can easily put a finger on, nothing that suggests any known country or region, but a musical lilt to her words that hints that somehow she is a stranger in this place.
TOM
Bingo. Toe Mas. Toe Mas Lake.
(beat)
How about an address? Do you have a family? A boyfriend? Anyone we can contact?
(no response)
Where did you come from?
Cat gets up from the floor.
CAT
Earth.
TOM
That clarifies things. What part of Earth?
CAT
Angels.
TOM
Angels … you mean LA? Los Angeles? Here?
CAT
Not here. There. Angels.
TOM
Okay. How did you get from there to here?
CAT
Door.
Now it’s his turn to look blank.
TOM
On the freeway? A car door?
CAT
Door between.
(impatient)
Leaving now, Toe Mas. Going now. Getting out.
She gets up, strides to the door, pulls at it. It’s locked. She looks at Tom, expecting him to help.
TOM
That door only opens for me right now. Sorry.
Firmly, but gently, he moves her away from the door, KNOCKS. The policeman in the hall opens for him.
TOM
Look, my girlfriend’s a lawyer. I’ll talk to her. That’s all I can do for you right now.
CAT
Not knowing lawyer.
TOM
You really must be from another country.
He EXITS, the door closes, and Cat throws herself on the bed, frustrated and trapped.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—BEACHFRONT APARTMENT—NEAR DAWN
Tom’s car, a little Mazda Miata, pulls up in front of a ramshackle old wooden apartment building by the beach.
INT.—TOM’S BEDROOM—DAWN
A woman is asleep in a big brass bed, under a rumpled sheet. In b.g. are lots of bookcases crammed with medical texts, law books, and paper backs. Right over the bed, very prominent, is Tom’s framed antique poster for a performance featuring HARRY HOUDINI.
The woman in the bed is in her late twenties, pretty, with long red hair. Her name is LAURA.
Tom sits on the bed beside her. He touches her shoulder, gently. Laura rolls over, muttering a protest. Tom shakes her a little harder. Her eyes open.
LAURA
(sleepy)
Tom? Is that you? What time is it? You just get home?
(glances at clock)
Oh, God, it’s too early. Go away. Leave me alone.
Laura rolls over and pulls the sheet back over her head. Tom gently tugs it down again.
TOM
Wake up. Coffee’s on. Jump in the shower and put on your shyster hat. I need help.
Tom moves off. Laura SIGHS, stirs. She sits up in bed, grumpy but awake.
INT.—TOM’S KITCHEN—DAWN
Laura sits at the kitchen table. She has slipped into a terrycloth robe. Her hair is still tousled from sleep. She cradles a steaming mug of coffee and listens. Tom paces the kitchen floor, restless, angry.
TOM
I tell you, there’s something very strange about this girl.
LAURA
She obviously made quite a first impression. Normally you don’t get so involved with people who knee you in the groin.
TOM
It wasn’t a knee. Look, can you help her?
LAURA
I’ll see what I can do. Did she really bite off his nose?
TOM
(glumly)
Just the end bit.
Laura can’t help but smile.
LAURA
That’s something. If you bite off the whole nose they really throw the book at you.
She finishes her coffee and gets up. Tom grabs her, pulls her close for a kiss.
TOM
I’ll owe you one.
TIGHT ON TOM AND LAURA
as he puts his arms around her.
LAURA
(playful)
So, is she cute? Should I be jealous?
TOM
What is this, cross-examination?
LAURA
The witness is instructed to answer the question.
TOM
Not guilty.
Their lips move together.
LAURA
Good. Otherwise …
Laura changes direction. Instead of kissing, she snaps her teeth together and lightly nips at the end of his nose. Tom breaks up. They laugh together, then kiss.
CUT TO
EXT.—FREEWAY—DAWN
The burned wreckage of the semi still blocks part of one lane and spills across most of the shoulder. A road crew with a CRANE and a FLATBED TRUCK works to remove the wreck. The predawn traffic is light.
WORKER
Last year it was just freeway shootings. Now they’re using missiles.
FOREMAN
From now on, I stick to surface streets.
Suddenly we hear a CRACK, as loud as a clap of thunder, as sharp as a sonic boom.
FOREMAN
What the hell …
The crane stops; its lights, its engine, everything. The big flatbed truck dies simultaneously. All the other lights in b.g. also go off: houses, cars, streetlamps.
ANGLE DOWN FREEWAY—FOREMAN’S POV
Only two or three cars are in sight. All of them are dead or dying: headlights out, engines giving up the ghost, slowly coasting to a halt, drivers climbing out.
RESUME
The worker is banging a big emergency flashlight against the heel of his hand, flicking the switch on and off.
WORKER
I don’t get this, I just put in new batteries.
But the foreman isn’t listening. We HEAR slow, ominous footsteps.
FOREMAN’S POV
Six figures fan out across the freeway. They were not there a moment ago. Now they are
. There are three men, three women. The women are as lean and tough and hard-looking as the men. They wear high black boots, black uniforms with silver metallic trim. Their hair is cropped close to their skulls.
Behind them comes a strange vehicle, a PALANQUIN or open sedan chair of black metal, as big as a Caddy, with long OUTRIDERS on either side, as on an outrigger canoe. It FLOATS three feet above the roadway, moving in utter silence, its line alien, suggestive, almost organic. A single passenger rides inside, surrounded by a roiling grayness: the DARKFIELD, a cloud that drinks light, making everything within vague and mysterious, like shapes half-seen in fog. All we can tell is that the passenger inside is hunched and massive, altogether huge by human standards.
REVERSE ANGLE
The foreman and his road crew stare at these apparitions before them. A few have the sense to be afraid.
REVERSE ANGLE—TIGHT ON THANE
The leader of the six on foot is THANE. His collar displays the insignia of rank: a silver pin in the shape of a hound’s head. He is in his thirties, awesomely fit, with eyes like ice. A hunter’s eyes. A warrior’s eyes.
His eyes meet the foreman’s for a second.
One by one, the hunters step aboard the palanquin, taking up position on the outriders like footmen on a carriage.
Thane boards last. The palanquin vanishes into the darkness.
THE ROAD CREW
stands in a stunned silence for a moment.
WORKER
What the hell just happened?
FOREMAN
I don’t think I want to know.
All at once, the power returns: headlights, streetlamps, flashlight, everything.
FADE OUT
END OF ACT I
ACT II
FADE IN
INT.—HOSPITAL CORRIDOR—AFTERNOON
Tom strides down the corridor, whistling. Then he notices something odd: no cop by Cat’s door. He stops whistling, moves to the door, opens it.
ANGLE INTO ROOM—TOM’S POV
Cat’s room is EMPTY, spotless, the bed freshly made. No one has been here for hours.
RESUME
People are coming and going: nurses, patients, a NUTRITIONIST with a food tray, an ORDERLY.
TOM
Pete, what happened to the girl in this room? Did they move her somewhere?
ORDERLY
Room was empty when I came on shift, man.
NUTRITIONIST
That patient was discharged last night, Doctor.
TOM
By who? I didn’t authorize any discharge. Did anyone see the police leave?
Shrugs. No one knows, no one cares. Except one OLD WOMAN struggling down the hall, leaning on a walker.
OLD WOMAN
They took her. Men in suits. It was three in the morning. She woke me up, the way she was screaming and kicking.
TOM
God damn it!
He goes striding off angrily.
CUT TO
INT.—ER NURSE’S STATION—MOMENTS LATER
TIGHT ON TOM
He is on the phone, still furious. INTERCUT with shots of Laura, behind her desk in a legal office.
TOM
What do you mean she wasn’t arrested?
LAURA
I mean there’s no arrest report. No paper of any kind. Your little feline friend was never arraigned. The incident was never logged. Officers Sanchez and Chambers are mysteriously unavailable.
TOM
They can’t just pretend it never happened. There must have been a hundred witnesses.
LAURA
You didn’t happen to get the names of any, did you?
CLOSE ON A HAND
Before Tom can answer, a hand ENTERS FRAME and depresses the button on the receiver.
ANGLE PAST TOM
Still holding the dead phone, he turns to face an imposing man in a dark gray suit: TRAGER. About fifty, his suit impeccable, his hair carefully combed, Trager is a man of ice and iron.
TRAGER
Dr. Thomas John Lake?
Tom just glares at him. Trager flashes a badge.
TRAGER
Special agent Trager, federal intelligence unit. Would you come with me, please?
Tom makes the connection. He’s suspicious and angry.
TOM
Why?
(beat)
You removed a patient of mine from this hospital last night. Illegally. Who the hell do you think you are? What have you done with Cat?
TRAGER
Is that her name? She’s in good care, Doctor. She’d like to see you.
TOM
I’m not going anywhere with you until I’ve talked to my lawyer.
Trager has had enough; his patience runs out.
TRAGER
Fine. You get one phone call. Tell her you’re under arrest.
TOM
You can’t do that!
TRAGER
You’d be astonished at what we can do, Doctor.
(beat)
On the other hand, if you’ll give us your cooperation …
TOM
(reconsidering)
I’ll call someone to fill in for me.
CUT TO
EXT.—HOSPITAL—NIGHT
Trager escorts Tom out of the hospital. A long black limo with tinted windows waits by the curb. They get in.
INT.—LIMOUSINE—CONTINUOUS
Trager climbs in after Tom and closes the door. The car moves off without a word. A second man sits across from them: thirtyish, sandy-haired, muscular.
TRAGER
This is agent Cameron.
Agent Cameron wears a blue suit and a large white BANDAGE over his nose that covers the center of his face. He looks unhappy.
TOM
I see you’ve met Cat.
Cameron gives him a foul-tempered stare. Tom turns his head away and fakes a COUGH, covering his mouth to hide the smile he cannot quite suppress.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—DESERT BASE—NIGHT
The high desert of California. A uniformed GUARD waves the limo through a gate in a high chain-link fence. On one side of the gate a sign says AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY; on the other DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE. Beyond the fence are the quonset huts and ugly cinder-block buildings of an abandoned army base.
INT.—DESERT BASE—NIGHT—TRACKING
Trager and Cameron escort Tom down a long windowless corridor. They pass one section where the wall has been BLOWN OUT; through a jagged blackened hole we glimpse a long interior room GUTTED by fire, its ceiling collapsed.
TOM
You have a fire?
TRAGER
Our shooting range. One of our bright boys decided to test fire your girlfriend’s gun.
TOM
She’s not my girlfriend.
TRAGER
Whatever. In here, please. There are some things I want you to see.
He opens a door. Tom steps through.
INT.—TRAGER’S OFFICE—NIGHT—TIGHT ON A WALL SAFE
A high-tech, electronic safe with a card slot and numerical keyboard. Trager’s HAND inserts a plastic security card into a slot. The keypad LIGHTS. Trager punches in a sequence of numbers. The safe swings open; Trager begins to remove the contents.
ANGLE DOWN ON DESK
as Trager spreads out Cat’s weapon, her bracelet, three BLACK CYLINDERS. A hundred-odd BLACK PLASTIC NEEDLES are scattered across the desktop.
ANGLE UP
Trager and Tom have been joined by MATSUMOTO, a government scientist, Asian, forty, wearing a lab coat.
TOM
She blew up a semi with that?
TRAGER
Correct. Go on, pick it up.
Tom lifts the weapon, sights down the barrel.
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