SAVIOR story by Jana Klein screenplay by Jack Bullions based on James Cameron's world of Dark Angel FADE IN: INT. CELL - TIMELESS In a DIMLY LIT room with padded walls...glossy floor tiles... a LONE FIGURE on a bed under covers. ANGLE ON SLEEPING EYES -- the lids flutter the slightest. CUT TO: EXT. TRAIN TRACKS - DAWN On the ground. Old ones, half-covered by weeds. In the b.g. rusted steel spires and smoke stacks of a long dead industrial district soar into the gray sky. Suddenly, we hear a low rumble. It increases in volume then -- A FREIGHT TRAIN -- engine, several boxcars (carrying various chemical materials), and a caboose - roars from under the screen into view. The thunderous sound is deafening -- CUT BACK ON THE SAME EYES at the cell, they look more agitated now. INT. TRAIN ENGINE - DAWN The chief ENGINEER with hands on both brake and accelerator controls, stares blankly out the window. A TAC-OPS OFFICER enters. TAC-OPS OFFICER How much longer? ENGINEER Nine minutes. We'll be out of Amboy and back inside a secure zone. The Tac-Ops Officer nods, lights up a cigarette. EXT. TRAIN ENGINE AREA - DAWN Behind the engineer's compartment is the engine itself, with walkways along either side. Four TAC-OPS TROOPERS, two on each side, black suits, with heavy automatic rifles keep careful watch. The train hurtles under a bridge-pass. EXT. BRIDGE - DAWN On the other side and up above, A FIGURE leaps off the edge and lands right onto the rooftops of the passing freight cars with extraordinary grace and precision. EXT. TOP OF TRAIN - DAWN The face of TAL snaps INTO FRAME. About mid 20s, sullen expression. He's crouched on all fours, scanning up and down the train. He darts off quickly like a black blur. FOLLOWING BEHIND TAL as he begins to jump from one boxcar to the next. His movements are so clean, gliding in and out of each jump. We also recognize the curious looking bar-code on the back of his neck. EXT. TRAIN ENGINE AREA - DAWN Tal jumps the gap between two more freight boxcars, his long black coat flying open like the wings of a manta ray. He whips out dual Beretta Elites from under his coat. WHIP PAN TO: THE TAC-OPS TROOPERS as they spin to behind them just as Tal comes over the top, fingers pumping both handguns furiously. They all go down fast. Tal hops down onto the walkway. INT. TRAIN ENGINE - DAWN The Tac-Ops Officer slings up his rifle. Tal behind the door, SHOOTS THROUGH the glass, and plugs a bullet into the skull of the Officer. The Engineer snaps his head back. Tal opens the door and strides into the compartment, barrel of the gun trained on the Engineer's forehead. TAL You want to live, stop the train. The Engineer hesitates. Tal pulls back the hammer. TAL Believe it. The Engineer grips the brake lever, throws it down. EXT. TRAIN - DAWN EXTREME CLOSE UP - Brakes LOCK into the TRAIN AXLE. Steel grinds against steel, SCREECHING LOUDLY just as -- INT. CELL - NIGHT THE EYES -- they snap open and dart about in confusion. ON ROMAN, in skivvies, as he sits up into the light. Covers tossed off. He swings his legs over the side of the cot. We get a profile of Roman. He looks to be about Tal's age, early 20s, dark featured, pained expression. His neck aches from the horrible sleep. HIS P.O.V. - looking around the room. A sterile self- contained high-tech living quarter of bland white with everything included -- bathroom, kitchen, closets, and the Entertainment Set. Roman shivers, cold. He picks up the clothes lying on the floor and puts them on. Loose sweat pants, a plain shirt, slippers. Now he stands up, with some effort, and staggers from the bed. FLASH CUT -- Blurry, fast-paced and surreal images seen in EXTREME CLOSE UP. ABSTRACT FIGURES, SMALL, no faces, in hospital gowns, walking towards us. We think they might be children. BACK TO PRESENT ANGLE - A LIGHT SWITCH. Roman's hand ENTERS FRAME, slides a finger up the SENSITIVE-PAD halfway. WHITE LIGHT gradually fills the room to half intensity. ON HIS REFLECTION in a bathroom wall mirror. He moves to the mirror and looks at himself a la the Dark Angel pilot. Our first clear impression of this young man now. What we see is an ice-cold professional: lean, grim, dangerous eyes, bred to kill. No innocence about him. MOVE CLOSER IN on his eyes. O.S. sourceless whispers. ANOTHER FLASH CUT -- Young Roman, twelve years old, standing alone in a hallway. A din of DISTORTED VOICES surround him -- PA speakers, megaphone, the burble of children all overlapping in jumbled discord. He looks over his shoulder. The same SMALL FIGURES, about his size, moving towards him. Features more clear. Pale skin. Different color hair. We still can't see their faces. Young Roman reacts, terrified and -- WHAM! The bathroom mirror slams shut. Roman looking at himself, then glances down at his hand, which is holding an empty orange prescription bottle. He crushes it inside a tight fist and then bends to splash cold water on his face. CUT TO: INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT Overhead lamps cast pools of LIGHT down onto A CONFERENCE TABLE, onto the CORPORATE BOARD MEMBERS gathered to observe the LARGE VIDEO SCREEN. Expensive suits, expensive accessories, grim faces, which indicate wealth, power, and a military presence. ON THE VIDEO featuring footage taken inside one the BOXCARS of the hijacked train. Tal turns and stares into the camera, fires his Beretta. The screen cuts to static. VOICE IN THE ROOM (O.S.) ...most of the security were killed, the rest bound and gagged in one of the empty freight cars. EDWARD MULCAHY, the ultimate company man, late 50s, steeples his fingers. The LEATHER CREAKS as he leans back, facing his board members. MULCAHY The entire Metheglin supply was taken. CORPORATE TRUSTEE He couldn't have acted alone. Do we have an I-D on this individual? Mulcahy nods to Director DOUGLAS RANSOM, early 40s. RANSOM This is Tal, formerly X-Five-One-Zero- Four. One of the two X-Five's brought from the Gillette facility to the East. Escaped seven years ago. He has himself a crew now. Everyone REACTS with startled silence. BOARD MEMBER You are certain this is one of ours? As if on cue, a COMPUTER TECH appears and goes to work on the computer console near the video screen. He types in a command, the video REWINDS. STOPS. He hits a few more keys, then fiddles with the MOUSE. The video blows up the profile of Tal until we notice the bar-code at the nape of his neck. RANSOM Without question. CORPORATE TRUSTEE What has been done? RANSOM We have an informant inside, but he tells us everything is being kept covert, mouths shut on the matter. We do know for several weeks, they've been attempting to contact various Medical Distributors and research teams from overseas. BOARD MEMBER And yet your informant failed to mention this escapade of theirs? RANSOM Like I told you, covert. Tal doesn't talk scores to anyone he doesn't trust with his life. CORPORATE TRUSTEE What do they want? The FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) Representative (FEMA REP) looks over. FEMA REPRESENTATIVE Is it obvious? RANSOM (CONT'D.) We have been monitoring several groups... ones with histories of working underground. Our best guess they would try to contact one of them. There is one group coming in tonight, here in New York City. CORPORATE TRUSTEE The recovery of the Metheglin is paramount, at all costs. MULCAHY If one of our own is involved, we need to proceed with careful calculation. Heads nod around the table. RANSOM I have Lieutenant Towner with more units on stand-by and ready... MULCAHY Make a call to Boston. (off Mulcahy's look) Bring the other one here to assist your operation. RANSOM I don't believe that is necessary. I can handle one of my own. MULCAHY Lydecker shared the exact same sentiment as well in Seattle. RANSOM Sir, with all due respect, this isn't Seattle. MULCAHY I hate to be pragmatic, Douglas, but you and I both know we bred these soldiers to be good, and they are very good. RANSOM I understand that, Sir, but we separated them for a reason. Sending Roman could trigger unneeded complications. MULCAHY A risk we can accept. Losing the Metheglin is something we will not accept. CORPORATE TRUSTEE Our latest series has yet to be field tested. Roman is the only option. Make the call. Ransom gets up from his seat slowly, and leaves. CUT TO: INT. ROMAN'S CELL - NIGHT Roman sits at a table in the dining alcove contemplating the smoke rising from his cup of coffee. CUT TO: INT. ISOLATION SECURITY CHECKPOINT - MANTICORE MEDICAL RESEARCH INSTITUTE - BOSTON - NIGHT A small room before a short SALLY-PORT corridor designed to prevent anything from leaving the deeper recesses of the facility. There are doors at each end. The first one is barred like a jail-cell door, and the second is a steel fire door. The security officers have a video monitor with which they can see the corridor on the other side of the doors. INSIDE THE ISOLATION WARD, the station looks like a cage, walled in by heavy metal mesh and plexi-glass. The SECURITY OFFICERS look up to see a tall black man, GIDEON, mid 20s, approach the glass. He's carrying a file in hand, reaches into his coat and pulls his ID. He flips it open, presses it up to the glass. CLOSE ON the ID card. Gideon's photo, official-looking graphics. It calls him a "Manticore Investigator." One of the Security clicks on the intercom. SECURITY OFFICER Early visit today, eh? Gideon nods as the other officer triggers the doors to slide open. CUT TO: INT. ROMAN'S CELL - NIGHT Roman is now busy field-stripping and cleaning a M-4A1 Assault Carbine. He flips the safety. Retracts the cocking handle. Snaps open the rifle. CLICK-CLACK. His movements very methodical. A variety of guns lay spread out in front of him. CUT TO: INT. ISOLATION CORRIDOR - NIGHT Gideon looks up at the SECURITY CAMS just as the heavy steel gate CLANGS shut behind him. The bolt shoots home. We DOLLY on Gideon as crosses through the long crowded corridor. Guards, men in white lab coats, doctors, discuss charts, or pass by. A P.A. broadcasts occasional messages. PROFILE Gideon crosses another steel gate. Two more SECURITY GUARDS, armed, snap to attention there. Without breaking his stride, Gideon moves on down the hallway. CUT TO: INT. ROMAN'S CELL - NIGHT Roman sits, staring down at the M-4A1 Carbine in his hands. The weapon fully re-assembled and cleaned now. He sets it down and picks up another weapon when -- A door HUM. Roman looks away from his work. His cell door slides open TO REVEAL Gideon. GIDEON How you feeling? Roman looks at him. ROMAN I think I'm going mad. I dreamed again. GIDEON Same one? ROMAN This was more intense. Gideon walks in, pulls a chair, and sits next to him. ROMAN You want any coffee? GIDEON No. It's okay. Roman goes back to his cleaning. GIDEON You've been taking the medications like I told you to? ROMAN Yeah... every night. It's not helping. GIDEON Awright. It sounds pretty bad. I'll talk to the doctors again. ROMAN I've been doing some thinking. GIDEON About what? ROMAN About the dreams. I've been trying to figure out things, about it... You know, try to make some sense out of it. He stops his work momentarily, and stares at the weapon. Gideon folds his hand over the file. ROMAN (CONT'D.) Do you remember the children I told you about? When I was twelve, I lived with a large group of them in a place, just like this. Gideon nods. ROMAN (CONT'D.) They... none of them had faces. GIDEON You never lived with a group of children, Roman. I've been telling them to move you out of this place. Being holed up in a world like this... it does things to your head. ROMAN Yeah, I guess. GIDEON Don't worry about it. I'll talk to them again, and get you something better for your dreams. A beat between them. Gideon seems reluctant what he is about to say next. ROMAN Well, I know you're not here to shoot the breeze with me, being it isn't the weekend. Something you need to tell me? GIDEON We're sending you out again. ROMAN (a look) I just did two weeks in the Middle East. GIDEON I know. They want you back out. We have a real problem. Gideon opens up his file, pulls out several 8" by 10" glossies, and slides them to Roman. Each of them TOPOGRAPHICAL MAPS of the Northeastern U.S. coast. Gideon indicates a set of COORDINATES and MARKS on each map. GIDEON A train shipment of Metheglin leaving Annapolis to Boston was hijacked outside of Amboy six hours ago. We've zeroed in on their location in Manhattan. ROMAN Metheglin? GIDEON It's a vaccine to the plague that's been spreading around the New England area. ROMAN I know about the plague. I didn't know a vaccine was discovered. He looks at Gideon. Gideon avoids eye contact, pulls a photo from the file, and puts it over the maps. GIDEON Recognize him? Roman looks down again. It's a dossier of a man with a mug shot. INSERT ON THE PHOTO a handsome young man. We meet Tal again. Roman takes the photo, stares. ROMAN No. Who is he? GIDEON We'll talk on the way. Get dressed. We have a flight to catch. Gideon gets up, and leaves. Off Roman -- DISSOLVE TO: EXT. EAST RIVER - NIGHT Extreme close-up of dark rolling waters. Drizzling...cold... thunder RUMBLING. We tilt up to reveal -- WIDE ANGLE LENS on the East River while New York City is spread out in all its glory in the background under the gray sky. A tiny chip of technology breaks from the clouds. It moves slowly towards us. Continuing to approach, the object resolves into a MILITARY ASSAULT HELICOPTER. Drawing closer, the SOUND of powerful TURBINES, throbbing in the cold air, becomes dominant, overpowering. Its silhouette gliding against the river underneath as the chopper BURSTS INTO VIEW. Then suddenly it lifts into the view of... looming huge: the MANHATTAN BRIDGE. Impossibly close, the chopper soars over the bridge, and we get a startling sight of barricades, barbed wire, RUSTING CARS -- all scattered about like a child's toys. The chopper passes over the BROOKLYN BRIDGE now and we see the same barricades. The island of Manhattan is locked in. The chopper dips and banks sharply towards Liberty Island and the famous Statue. The PILOT'S VOICE is heard, coordinating their approach. PILOT (voice over, filtered) Liberty Command, this is Halo One. LIBERTY COMMAND (voice over, filtered) Go ahead. INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT In the cockpit, PILOT and CO-PILOT are surrounded by an array of dimly lit GAUGES and SWITCHES. Before the Co-Pilot is a red TOPOGRAPHICAL MAP of New York on which the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island appear as giant gray blips. PILOT We are inbound south, five, five, zero. ETA in about three minutes. Over. LIBERTY COMMAND (voice over, filtered) Roger, Halo One. We have you on map, five by five. Adjust course to coordinates two, two, zero, mark four by zero. Over. PILOT Roger your insert coord. INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT TIGHT CLOSE-UP of Roman's FACE illuminated by the eerie red glow of NIGHT LIGHTS, as he stares out at the city. Seated around him are Gideon, and a DR. SAM PARKER, wiry blonde man in glasses and tie. The compartment reverberates with the NOISE of the THUMPING ROTORS. GIDEON (O.S.) Give us your tired, your poor... Roman looks away to Gideon who is looking out the window with him. Both he and Gideon are dressed in matching black with leather long-coats. GIDEON (CONT'D.) ... your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. PARKER It ain't what it used to be. (to Roman) Hey, I need you to give me one more rundown before we land! He gestures a clipboard at him.
