This is an excerpt (first 30ish pages) of a completed screenplay.
"Secret Agent: British Intelligence. EYES ONLY" - screenplay by Derek Paterson. FADE IN: EXT. LONDON SKYLINE PANORAMA - DAY Establishing shot, with the title, London, England EXT. OFFICE BUILDING - DAY A modern chrome and concrete edifice. INT. UNDERGROUND CAR PARK - DAY The in-ramp barrier lifts up to admit a silver BMW. The BMW slides smoothly into a reserved spot. The driver climbs out. Dark suit, tailored to fit. Impeccable appearance. Cool and suave are just two adjectives that fit BIFF THRASH. Thrash locks his car and moves to an elevator door. INT. OFFICE BUILDING LOBBY - DAY An elevator door hidden behind a giant rubber plant opens and Thrash steps out. His gaze sweeps the lobby. A pretty RECEPTIONIST behind a desk. A SECURITY MAN in a suit. Various OFFICE TYPES going in and out. Thrash moves to another elevator, for general use. The door opens. OLD CHARLIE the elevator operator wears a red cap and blazer. Thrash steps in. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY OLD CHARLIE Morning, sir. THRASH Morning, Charlie. OLD CHARLIE Nice weather we're having. Did you have a good weekend, sir? THRASH Yes to both. As Charlie presses the button, two bulky gentlemen in cheap suits squeeze into the elevator. IVAN and BORIS. Thrash moves to make room for them. The door closes. OLD CHARLIE Floor, please? IVAN (East Europe accent) Seventh floor. Charlie presses another button. The elevator hums. Thrash is perfectly relaxed. Slightly behind him, Ivan exchanges a sideways glance with Boris. Ivan slowly reaches inside his jacket. Boris's hands stiffen to form deadly karate blades. Thrash explodes into action, he back-kicks Boris into the corner, spins and karate chops Ivan, knocking his gun out of his hand. Thrash brutally smashes Ivan's face into the wall, stunning him. Ivan slides down, leaving a bloodstain. BORIS I kill you! Boris launches a karate chop at Thrash who blocks it with his arm and crushes Boris's throat with a well-placed elbow strike. Boris's eyes widen in shock. THRASH 'Fraid not, old chum. Boris falls to his knees, then pitches forward. Old Charlie places his hand on Thrash's shoulder. OLD CHARLIE 'Ere! This is an elevator! Thrash twists the hand and suddenly he's behind Old Charlie, with his arms around Old Charlie's neck, applying pressure. OLD CHARLIE Oh God, no, please, I have grandchildren-- SNAP! INT. X'S OFFICE - DAY The formidable figure of "X", head of British Intelligence, sits behind his desk, facing Thrash. X Well of course I'm not happy, Biff. No, not happy at all. Enemy agents penetrating our security and riding up and down in elevators? Not on, just not on. THRASH Their credentials did check out, sir. They were authorized to be inside the building. I should imagine the bodies of the clerks whose identities they assumed will turn up in a day or two. X Needless to say I've sent a memo to heads of departments, telling them to be more careful. Shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, but there you have it. Can't say I'm not disappointed that Old Charlie turned out to be a "sleeper". Worked here for thirty years. Suddenly, betrayal. Simply shocking. THRASH That's the thing about sleepers, sir. They're the worst kind of enemy agent. Cunning, ruthless. They pretend to be a friendly old elevator operator, talking about the weather, asking you if you had a pleasant weekend, when they're really thinking about ways to kill you. But what really worries me, sir, is that the two men who attacked me were Kilovian agents. INT. CORRIDOR, ELEVATOR DOOR - DAY Thrash emerges from the elevator. Inside the elevator, Old Charlie, Ivan and Boris lie dead. Thrash straightens his tie and walks away. Two OFFICE SUITS happen by and react to seeing the bodies. SUIT ONE enters the elevator to check they're alive. SUIT TWO pulls out his phone and makes a call. INT. X'S OFFICE - DAY X and Thrash, continued. X Kilovian? You're sure? THRASH No mistaking the technique, sir. Typical Kilovian foreign service, "KK" Department, a gunman and an unarmed combat specialist. If the bullet misses, the hands and elbows will snap bone. Fortunately I know something about that stuff myself. I'm just sorry I didn't leave anyone alive for interrogation. They might have been able to furnish us with some interesting tid-bits. X Nonsense, no need for any apology. X's phone BLEEPS repeatedly. He has three receivers on the one set, colored red, blue, and black. He picks up the red receiver. X (INTO PHONE) This is "X" speaking, go ahead. (...) Yes, Prime Minister. (...) Yes, sir, I can confirm there is a leak, quite possibly in your office or very high up in the civil service. (...) You may recall, sir, that you insisted I reveal the name of the agent I would be assigning to this particular case. That same agent was attacked not ten minutes ago by enemy agents. (...) I'm afraid not sir. You see, agent Biff Thrash was killed. Bullet through the head, didn't feel a thing. Thrash reacts uncomfortably to the news of his own death. X (INTO PHONE) (...) Yes sir, a sad loss to the service. (...) Single, sir, no next of kin. (...) Yes, sir, a small mercy. The assignment will of course be passed on to another agent. You don't mind if withhold his name, do you? Given the circumstances? (...) Postumhous award, Prime Minister? I appreciate the gesture, sir, but we in the service prefer to stay below the radar, even in death. (...) Yes sir. I'll see to the funeral arrangements personally. A subtle KNOCK at the door, BLENKINSOP enters. In many ways similar to Thrash, that same cool, suave thing. He carries a red folder. Thrash rises to greet Blenkinsop, pleased. THRASH Blenkinsop, old chap, delighted to see you. "X" is on the blower with the P.M. How have you been? Haven't seen you since that shindig in Baghdad. I'll never look at cheese dip the same way again. BLENKINSOP Never mind me, old boy, what about you? Rumor has it that a cleanup squad is mopping out one of the elevators, it's jammed full of East European thuggees. THRASH I wouldn't go that far. Just a couple of agents, very possibly Kilovian. BLENKINSOP They actually got inside the building? Good heavens. THRASH They had an inside man. BLENKINSOP An inside--?! THRASH Old Charlie, the elevator operator. Alas he paid the ultimate price, as did they. BLENKINSOP Old Charlie. Well I never. Says good morning to me every day. Hard to believe. But of course, if you say so... X has hung up the phone. X When you've quite finished chatting, gentlemen? Thrash and Blenkinsop move to stand before X's desk. X Glad I never voted for the bugger. Right, is that the Blotsky file? Blenkinsop gives X the red folder. BLENKINSOP Yes sir, afraid I can't let it out of my sight, sir. Red folder, must be returned directly to the Master. X Thank you, I'm aware of secure document procedure. In actual fact I wrote the bloody thing. (reading from folder) Blotsky. Sounds like a drunken Russian. Nothing could be further from the truth. Designed our new orbital laser platform. Man's a genius, apparently. THRASH There's no "apparently" about it, sir. Mansfield Blotsky is very possibly the greatest scientist our country has ever produced. He has brains oozing out of his ears. X Not literally, one hopes. The reason the P.M. is all a-flap is that Blotsky has vanished from his London flat, eluding Special Branch officers assigned to keep him warm and dry. We've been asked to locate and recover Mr. Blotsky with all speed. Think you're up to the task, Thrash? BLENKINSOP If I were a betting man, sir, I'd wager ten pounds on Blotsky being returned to Special Branch by the end of the day. X You hear that, Biff? A vote of confidence in your abilities. THRASH For which I'm grateful, sir, but there's this business with leaks, and foreign johnnies trying to do me in. X I told the P.M. you're dead. If the "mole" leaks this to the enemy, as I expect the blighter to, they won't be prepared for your showing up on the job. THRASH Jolly clever, sir, but where do I start? I'm a cold-blooded killer, sir, not Sherlock Holmes. Blotsky could be anywhere. X That's why I called for the Blotsky file. The man has a daughter, one of those brainbox types. Mathematics and enginering degrees. Single, of course. I'll call ahead and warn her you're coming. You'll be a Special Branch officer assigned to protect her. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY Winding through beautiful English countryside. Thrash's BMW follows the road. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash at the wheel. G.P.S. VOICE Drive another five hundred yards. Then stop. End of journey. EXT. COUNTRY MANSION - DAY Thrash's car rolls up in front of an impressive mansion set amid lovely gardens. INT. THRASH'S CAR - DAY Thrash studies the mansion admiringly. THRASH Nothing to get excited about. Just your typical little house in the country. He checks his gun, slides it back into its underarm holster. THRASH I'm in the wrong line of business. Should have stuck with physics and chemistry. He gets out the car. EXT. COUNTRY MANSION EXTRANCE - DAY Thrash approaches the front steps. The front door opens and Thrash finds himself staring down the twin barrels of a shotgun. He stops in mid-step. The shotgun is held by MIRANDA BLOTSKY, wearing a baggy pullover and old jeans that can't conceal her beauty. THRASH Miss Blotsky, I presume. MIRANDA If the next words out of your mouth are, "Would you be interested in buying..." then I have to tell you, things could get rather loud. THRASH Before you shoot... Slowly, Thrash brings out an ID wallet. THRASH ...let me show you my warrant card. The ID is Thrash's picture, with SPECIAL BRANCH logo. THRASH Chief Inspector Smythe, Special Branch. Miranda lowers the shotgun. MIRANDA Oh. I might still shoot you anyway. Considering you're one of the potato heads who lost my father. THRASH Much rather you didn't. And I'm afraid I can't take personal responsibility. MIRANDA How do I know you're not lying? THRASH If it was my fault, I'd apologize and throw myself upon your mercy. Any chance of a cup of tea? MIRANDA Jesus, you're Special Branch, all right. Okay, you can come in, but wipe your feet and don't touch anything. That includes me. INT. MANSION ENTRANCE HALL - DAY Thrash enters. The place is oddly empty. MIRANDA Not that there's much left to touch. You might be forgiven for thinking burglars cleared us out. Actually it was the tax man. Finally caught up with us. Sent in the bailiffs. Witty bunch, had us in stitches. INT. MANSION LIVING ROOM - DAY Miranda leads Thrash inside. Some beat-up chairs and a T.V. in the corner. MIRANDA Here we are, the last corner of civilization. Chairs supplied by the local charity shop. A friend kindly loaned us the T.V. Plus a receipt, in case bailiffs turn up again. Please take a seat, Inspector. I'll go and pop the kettle on. And then perhaps you can tell me what's happened to my father... and what you're going to do to get him back here, safe and sound. THRASH Let's forget about the tea for a moment, shall we? Tell me what you know about your father's work. Presumably he didn't keep you totally in the dark, given your scientific knowledge? MIRANDA (upset) I-I'm sorry, Inspector, I can't discuss the subject. It's... he drove himself so hard, to complete the project on schedule, and now this. He's vanished into thin air and no one seems to give a damn! THRASH I assure you, Miss Blotsky, I give a damn. And not just because of some face-saving security cover- up. I'm going to find your father if it's the last thing I do. Miranda gazes into his eyes. MIRANDA Yes, I can... see the sincerity in your eyes, Inspector. You're not like the other policemen. You're... different. I can feel it. The flame of attraction grows between them. MIRANDA I should warn you... I'm a scientist. I don't get to mix much with men... not unless you count other scientists, who have little interest in anything except their research. They're face to face, close enough to kiss. THRASH I'm not a brute who takes pleasure in striking women, but if you don't control yourself... and stop looking at me with those huge eyes... Their arms encircle each other. MIRANDA So wrong... and yet... so utterly, utterly right. They kiss, a passionate business that lasts until-- The CLUNK of car doors closing outside. THRASH Are you expecting visitors? MIRANDA No. Thrash looks out the window. A black car, and three MEN in cheap suits. THRASH Are you sure? Next door neighbors? Long-lost cousins? Miranda peers out the window, sees the men. MIRANDA I'm sure. Who are they? God, they've got guns. THRASH I'm sorry to say it looks as if you're about to be paid a visit by the Kilovian State Circus. Thrash draws his gun. He gives Miranda his phone. THRASH Do me a favor? Dial 666 and press the star button twice. Sends an emergency signal. Satellites will pinpoint our location. S.A.S. will have have a strike team airborne within sixty seconds. He steals a look out the window. THRASH They're coming. EXT. COUNTRY MANSION EXTRANCE - DAY The three gunmen approach the front door. (They all have East European accents.) WOLFMAN GUNMAN His car, still here. Grozny kill him good. Revenge for Ivan and Boris. SCARFACE GUNMAN Be careful, Grozny. He killed them with his hands. Ivan and Boris were not so easy to kill. INT. MANSION LIVING ROOM - DAY Thrash is at the door, covering the entrance hall. Miranda finishes a phone call. MIRANDA A rather stern-sounding woman just told me your request for immediate action is being executed. Is that good? THRASH Absolutely spiffy. MIRANDA What are you doing? THRASH Making ready to shoot the first eastern devil who comes through the door, actually. MIRANDA I-I'd like to offer you some help, but fact is, I don't have any shotgun cartidges. I've no idea where father keeps them. THRASH I know. I could tell by the way you were holding it that it wasn't loaded. Get down behind the chairs. Scarface Gunman CRASHES IN THROUGH THE WINDOW! Miranda screams and falls back. THRASH Miranda! The other two gunmen CRASH IN THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR. THRASH Bugger! Wolfman Gunman kicks Thrash's gun out of his hand -- Thrash kicks Wolfman Gunman's gun out of his hand! WOLFMAN GUNMAN Zavaraski! Kreza shoyin! (subtitled) Your mother! Worked in an army brothel! Thrash judo throws Wolfman Gunman into Thug Gunman. THRASH Verskov pyuni! (subtitled) Your father is unknown! Thrash karate chops Thug Gunman's hand so he SHOOTS Wolfman Gunman in mid-air. Thrash spins and drives his elbow into Thug Gunman's head. THRASH Lights out! SCARFACE GUNMAN (O.S.) Very good, Meester Thrash. Thrash turns, hands raised. Scarface Gunman has one arm around Miranda's throat, he holds his gun to her head. SCARFACE GUNMAN But now I have the upper hand, I think. Move one inch and a bullet will find its way into this pretty young lady's head. I'm sure neither of us wants that to happen. Thrash glances at the guns on the floor. THRASH Come now, comrade. Don't make threats that you aren't prepared to carry out. You didn't come here to kill the girl, you want her alive. SCARFACE GUNMAN Alive is good. Dead is okay too. But you, Meester Thrash. I'm thinking, what if I bring you in alive? THRASH That's preposterous. SCARFACE GUNMAN Heh. Not so preposterous. In this business, reputation is everything. I would be the man who captured the famous Biff Thrash of British Intelligence. Promotion, at least. Maybe even station head. MIRANDA My God, I don't-- Two of your friends have been killed, and that's all you can think about? SCARFACE GUNMAN Do not anger me! These dogs were not my friends. They were Slimovska, half-breed scum. I am Aristokravska, of the pure blood. Did your father teach you nothing? MIRANDA M-my father?! SCARFACE GUNMAN Yes, your father. He fled to this country to escape the purges. He should have returned to give the benefit of his knowledge to the mother country. But he did not. And so we must persuade him. THRASH I should imagine that the price of Doctor Blotsky's returning to Kilovia and working for you willingly is his daughter. SCARFACE GUNMAN Quite so. That is what he demands. But if I kill her... and blame her death on you... then perhaps he will work for us for better reasons. But. Double bluff. He thinks she is dead but I allow her to live. You leave here with me in the boot of my car, unconscious. Thrash frowns. Doesn't like that idea. SCARFACE GUNMAN Think it over, Meester Thrash. Think it over quickly. I'm also good with Plan "B" -- I kill you both. Thrash lowers his hands, straightens. THRASH Very well. She lives. I go with you and give you the coup of the decade. SCARFACE GUNMAN Hah. I knew the chivalrous English knight would not let his lady die. MIRANDA No, please -- there must be some other way. THRASH I'm afraid not, Miss Blotsky. He has me completely snookered. One- two-three-star. SCARFACE GUNMAN Snookered, yes, I understand this word. But what does one-two-three- star mean? While he's talking, Miranda figures it out. She thumbs the numbers into Thrash's phone, which she's still holding. A secret blade springs out the bottom of the phone. THRASH It's something you say when someone's giving you the NEEDLE... STICKING IT TO YOU, if you catch my drift. SCARFACE GUNMAN Your stupid language-- AAAAAAH! He has screamed because Miranda has jammed the blade into his thigh. Scarface Gunman stands frozen, his eyes open. Miranda moves to Thrash's side. MIRANDA Good grief, is he just going to stand there? THRASH Until someone administers the antidote, yes. It's a blowfish poison derivative. Probably the same stuff he would have used to keep me quiet. MIRANDA I see. You're... not really a police inspector, are you? THRASH I'm sorry for deceiving you with that false name. Not that it did any good, they seemed to already know who I was. My real name is Thrash, Biff Thrash. I work for British Intelligence. MIRANDA I shouldn't be surprised, given my father's security clearance. Thrash picks up his gun, checks it. THRASH How do you fancy a nice drive into London? MIRANDA London? THRASH It's odds-on that these unsavoury fellows are connected with the Kilovian embassy. MIRANDA Can someone bring pressure to bear on the Kilovian ambassador? THRASH Quite possibly. Though I was thinking of something a little more direct. MIRANDA What are you going to do, just walk in and ask if they'll let him go? THRASH The simplest plans are usually the best. There's less that can go wrong. Miranda looks at the bodies in the entrance hall. MIRANDA What about...? Are we just going to leave them? THRASH Don't worry about a thing, I'll make sure this mess is tidied up and the house made ship-shape by the time you return. MIRANDA Oh well, in that case... just let me get my coat. THRASH Jolly good. Just let me get my phone. Thrash looks at Scarface Gunman, still frozen in place. EXT. COUNTRY MANSION EXTRANCE - DAY Thrash stands by his car, talking on his phone. THRASH (INTO PHONE) Confirm two black bags and a statue. Require cleanup and joinery. Oh, and could you cancel the S.A.S. team please? They're probably trimming the tree tops as we speak. Thank them for their diligence. (...) Right, Thrash out. Miranda exits the house wearing a coat. THRASH Would you please leave the front door open, Miss Blotsky? Should anyone happen along, we'd wish them to think this was some kind of robbery gone badly wrong when you weren't here. MIRANDA Quite frankly you amaze me, Mr. Thrash. Three desperate men just tried to murder you. Yet you have enough presence of mind to think about leaving a door ajar. THRASH It's all part of the training they give us, Miss Blotsky. Even in the most adverse circumstances, our most effective weapon is our mind. MIRANDA Inside, when that rude fellow came crashing through the window, you called my name. Reverting to "Miss Blotsky" seems pointless, don't you agree? THRASH All right, I'll call you Miranda if you call me Biff. Thrash points his phone at his car and unlocks it. MIRANDA Goodness me, is there anything that phone of yours can't do? THRASH As far as I know it gives a really terrible foot-rub, so I've got an advantage over it there. (...) Stupid thing to say, really, I apologize. Unnoticed by Thrash or Miranda, the black car's rear door opens. Thrash opens the passenger door of his car for Miranda. MIRANDA Thank you. THRASH My pleasure. The PATTER of tiny feet goes unnoticed by Thrash. MIRANDA I notice we're both studiously avoiding any references to what almost happened in there... what would have happened if those beastly men hadn't come along. THRASH There's absolutely nothing for either of us to be embarrassed about, Miranda. You're a damned attractive woman and I'd like to think I'm a ruggedly handsome chap who might just have a chance with the ladies. But we have a pressing problem, and we may be racing against the clock. Any personal stuff between us... MIRANDA Yes? Miranda's keen to hear what he has to say next. Thrash makes unintelligible choking noises... Hntzz... flargle... like that. MIRANDA I-I don't understand. What are you saying? Thrash clutches his throat, choking. Grraaawkk. Urffff. MIRANDA I'll just climb in, shall I, while you stand there and make me look a complete fool? Miranda gets into the passenger seat. MIRANDA For goodness' sake, I'm not asking you to commit to a long-time relationship. There's no need to pretend you're choking. But Thrash IS choking, because a DWARF is on his back, and has looped a garrote cord around his neck. The dwarf is bald and as wrinkled as your scrotum, and wears a permanent grin with crooked teeth. His name is YORGA. YORGA Hahaha! Like the lady says, no need to pretend you're choking, Meester Thrash! Miranda talks to Thrash through the open car door, still unaware of the fact Yorga is strangling him to death. MIRANDA Don't worry, Mr. Thrash, I can take the hint. Let's just forget it ever happened. (...) Shall we be on our way? (...) Mr. Thrash? YORGA This very special occasion. You are my five hundredth victim! Miranda looks at herself in the sunshade mirror and gives her hair a finger comb. MIRANDA Why must men always think they're so special? Never mind, Miranda, you'll always have science. The cold equations will never let you down. Yorga LAUGHS crazily as Thrash struggles to breathe. MIRANDA I'll just sit here... admire the view. BAM! She SCREAMS as Yorga's twisted face slams into the windscreen. Thrash kicks Yorga off his car hood. THRASH I say, would you mind getting off my bloody car? Yorga hits the ground hard, he lies there stunned. MIRANDA Mr. Thrash... Biff... what on earth was that? THRASH Please stay in the car, Miss Blotsky... Miranda. Shan't be a tick. Just a little tidying up to do. Yorga pushes himself up. THRASH Come on, Stumpy. Let's get this over with. Yorga leaps at Thrash, holding a stiletto knife. YORGA I keel you! Thrash karate chops Yorga's skull, stopping him in mid- air, and as Yorga falls Thrash knees him in the face so he spins backwards, end over end. Yorga's knife goes flying. THRASH And Thrash shoots from the penalty spot! Thrash kicks Yorga as if he's a soccer ball. Yorga flies through the air, lands like a sack of turnips. THRASH And it's in the net! The goalkeeper didn't stand a chance! Thrash advances on Yorga, not finished with him yet. YORGA No, no, no! Leave Yorga alone. Miranda climbs out the car. Sees Yorga lying face-down. MIRANDA Biff -- stop! What are you doing to that poor little man? THRASH Miss Blotsky, I asked you to stay in the car. YORGA Please... no hurt Yorga. MIRANDA Do you expect me to just sit there and watch you beat the living daylights out of him? What you're doing is cruel and inhumane, and I will not allow it to happen. Can't you just... stick your phone into him, or something? THRASH This "poor little man" is a Kilovian agent! Don't be fooled by his size. And if it's who I think it is, you should be running away and screaming in terror. Yorga sobs pitifully, still lying face-down. YORGA Please help Yorga. Bad man hurt Yorga. Yorga suddenly flips over, holding a gun! YORGA Ha ha ha! Yorga hurt bad man! MIRANDA Biff, look out! He has a-- Thrash is adjusting his WRISTWATCH. MIRANDA Then again, you probably already know... The wristwatch emits a powerful magnetic pulse that grabs hold of Yorga's fallen knife. The knife flies into Yorga's crotch! Yorga clutches the knife, SCREAMS once in agony... and dies. He lies on his side, motionless. Miranda turns away, horrified. MIRANDA Oh my God. It got him right in the belfry tower. I can't bear to look! THRASH Lucky shot, I was aiming for his eye. (re his wristwatch) Absolutely spiffing field test, what? Emits a powerful electromagnetic pulse, picked up his knife and-- He sees Miranda's about to faint, and embraces her. THRASH I'm sorry, Miranda, I'm being insensitive. MIRANDA Oh Biff, hold me, hold me in your powerful arms and make the horror go away. They're face to face again, intimately close. THRASH Two things for you to consider. Our little friend there was hoisted by his own petard. That's his own knife in his crotch. Poisoned, I suspect. The shallowest cut would have resulted in agonizing death for the victim. So let's chalk that one up to ironic justice. He would most certainly have killed me without a second thought. And quite probably have done the same to you. MIRANDA How ghastly. THRASH Not to worry, he's dead now, and good riddance. MIRANDA Yes. THRASH There's something I need to ask you. MIRANDA Mmm? THRASH You wouldn't happen to have any make-up in your purse, would you? MIRANDA What? A FEW SECONDS LATER Thrash kneels beside the dead Yorga. Miranda watches. THRASH You can wait for me in the car if you prefer. MIRANDA No, I'm... curious. That's what makes me a scientist, I suppose. THRASH As you wish. Let's roll the little bugger over, shall we? He rolls Yorga onto his back. Yorga's dead eyes stare unseeing at the heavens. Thrash opens a bottle and pours liquid into a hankie. THRASH Right, then. The judicious application of a few drops of make- up recover... a good rub with a tissue... MIRANDA Bless you. THRASH Very witty. And let's see what we have... Thrash rubs Yorga's forehead. Revealing a Nazi swastika. THRASH Lo and behold. Exactly where I thought it would be. MIRANDA I-I don't understand. Are you trying to tell me...? That's impossible. THRASH I only wish it were impossible. You're looking at a genuine souvenier from the Second World War. He looks up at Miranda. THRASH Technically it's a Nazi terrorweapon. If you laugh, I shall be rather disappointed. Miranda doesn't laugh. She's horrified. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY Thrash's car speeds through English countryside. THRASH (V.O.) Thrash here, sir. On my way back to London. I have Miss Blotsky with me. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash and Miranda. Communicating with "X" via radio. X (V.O.) Excellent. Heard you had a bit of a scrum with some unsavory types? THRASH Confirmed, sir. The cleanup team should be there now, they'll fill you in on the details. I have a concern with one of the players, sir. Regret to report the Dark Eagle may have arisen again. INT. X'S OFFICE - DAY "X" is on the blue phone. X (INTO PHONE) Good heavens, you're sure? INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY THRASH Quite sure, sir. You'll recall our American cousins reported sighting a dwarf assassin last month in Berlin when the ambassador was almost killed. It's possible this was the same fellow. X (V.O.) May I assume you neutralized the threat? THRASH Absolutely, sir. Examination of the body revealed the swastika. INT. X'S OFFICE - DAY "X" sits back and shakes his head. X (INTO PHONE) I've been briefed on this, of course, but it's still hard to believe... INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash explains as much for Miranda's benefit as for X's. She listens with a growing sense of disbelief. THRASH The "Zwerg Geschwaderangriff Meuchelmorder" appeared appeared at the end of the Second World War. The Nazis unleashed the genetically modified dwarfs in a desperate attempt to stall the Allied advance until atomic weapons could be completed and deployed. The Russian Army lost thousands of top-ranking officers to the dwarfs before they even realized what was happening. Our forces also suffered losses, but the American O.S.S. launched a counteroffensive against the dwarfs and pretty much wiped them out. Unfortunately some escaped, judging by today's events, are still operational. Code name: Dark Eagle. Miranda glances back, looking out the rear window. THRASH I'm surprised the Kilovians would employ a dwarf, but their being prepared to overlook their ethnic bigotry on this occasion may be a measure of how important Professor Blotsky is to them. They wanted Miss Blotsky, sir, so they could control him. I suspect they may be holding him in their embassy in London. Any way we can check that, sir? MIRANDA Biff. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY A big black car speeds after Biff's car, closing the gap. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash sees the big car in the rear view mirror. THRASH I'll have to call back, sir. Bit of a problem. Got some company. Thrash taps a switch, ending the radio call. THRASH Looks like an embassy car. Moving rather fast. Must be a souped-up engine under the bonnet. This could get interesting. Thrash puts his foot down, increasing speed. THRASH Not to worry, we have a few horses of our own, and they're all thoroughbreds. Just a tap on the accelerator and off we go. Take that, Ivan. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY The two cars speed along, faster and faster. The big black car's roof hatch opens. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash looks in the rear view mirror, and frowns. THRASH Hmm. Rather odd. Some kind of roof hatch... He smiles at Miranda, reassuring her. THRASH We're bullet-proof, by the way. Hand guns and automatic weapons can't touch us. Even the tires are rocket science. Another glance in the rear view mirror. The big car is still closing on them. THRASH Even so... a little more distance might not go amiss. He shifts gear, the engine ROARS louder. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY The big black car, with its roof open, in hot pursuit of Thrash's car. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Miranda looks back over her shoulder. MIRANDA That's all very reassuring, but I think these gentlemen mean business. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY A huge pair of machine guns mounted on a platform rise up out of the black car's interior. A gunner, DIMITRI, sits behind them. INT. THRASH'S CAR, MOVING - DAY Thrash sees the gun platform in the rear view mirror. THRASH You have got to be kidding me. EXT. BLACK PURSUIT CAR, MOVING - DAY Dimitri racks the bolts on the twin machine guns. They're each fed by huge ammunition boxes. DIMITRI Oh yeah, baby. Rock and roll with my bitches. ZENGLOV, the huge driver, calls up from below. ZENGLOV Cannot be going faster! I am giving her all she has got! DIMITRI Is enough! Dimitri laughs like a maniac. DIMITRI Now you die, Meester Thrash! The machine guns blaze! DAKA DAKA DAKA DAKA! EXT. THRASH'S CAR - DAY Thrash's car EXPLODES in a huge fireball! The blazing wreck flips off the road and crashes into trees. EXT. BLACK PURSUIT CAR - DAY The car skids to a stop at the side of the road. Dimitri and Zenglov stare at the burning wreckage of Thrash's car. DIMITRI Zerdy zuchakva! Lucky shot! Must have hit his fuel tank! ZENGLOV Ha ha! It is the end of the British agent. DIMITRI Za, it is end. No survivors possible. Zenglov draws a gun and opens his door. ZENGLOV Nonetheless. For survivors we must check. You will stay with car. If any hanky-panky, you will be shooting until nothing left alive. Zenglov climbs out. He's a huge brute. DIMITRI Be careful, Zenglov! ZENGLOV Zenglov was born careful. EXT. THRASH'S BURNING CAR - DAY Zenglov approaches the blazing wreck warily. But something puzzles him. ZENGLOV Most curious. The flames I see. The crackling I hear. But I do not be feeling the heat. Zenglov moves closer to the burning car. The burning car flickers and fades and comes back again. ZENGLOV Zoshistra! What is this? The burning car fades and vanishes! An illusion! Zenglov discovers a football-size globe on the ground, fitted with colored projector lenses. ZENGLOV Magic light box! British agent trick! (...) Then British agent must be-- THRASH Right here, old chum. Thrash karate chops Zenglov's gun out of his hand and punches Zenglov in the guts, then gives him a left and right cross, rocking Zenglov's head. THRASH Taste English knuckle, Ivan. Zenglov throws back his head and LAUGHS. Thrash steps back, surprised. ZENGLOV Zenglov laughs at your feeble punches. Zenglov is bare knuckle wrestling champion of People's Republic of Kilovia. Zenglov is be killing seven men in last year's contest. Zenglov is be twisting your head off and pissing down your neck, Zenglov thinks. Zenglov raises his big fists. ZENGLOV So come how, British agent. We settle this like men, with blood. THRASH Yes, quite. Jolly good idea, that. Just to clarify... when you say "blood" you don't mean the first to get a bloody nose, do you? ZENGLOV He he he. I will remember you for your sense of humor, Englishman. After I crush the life from your body. THRASH Perhaps you can remember this, too. Thrash cups his hands to his mouth and shouts-- THRASH Demosh klatska! ZENGLOV What? No! Zenglov turns and looks at the black car, at Dimitri. EXT. BLACK PURSUIT CAR - DAY Dimitri racks the bolts on the twin machine guns. DIMITRI British agent must have defeated Zenglov. Would not have thought such a thing possible. Zenglov gives life to ensure British agent will not escape! Hope one day, I am worthy to follow in Zenglov's footsteps! Dimitri OPENS FIRE. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - THRASH AND ZENGLOV - DAY Thrash dives into the trees as machine gun fire RIPS ZENGLOV APART. The big thug SCREAMS as he dissolves in a cloud of blood-pink mist. EXT. BLACK PURSUIT CAR - DAY The twin machine guns stop shooting. Dimitri squints through the clouds of gunsmoke. There's no one there. DIMITRI Desvash kublish, Zenglov! Good comrade! British agent must have been atomized. He stands, gets ready to climb down off the gun platform. DIMITRI Zo, mission accomplished! I return to embassy and make report. Thrash comes whistling through the air like a rocket, executing a super-high kung fu kick that connects with Dimitri's face. SPLAT. EXT. CLEARING IN THE WOODS - DAY Miranda starts in surprise when she hears Thrash approach. Thrash's car is here, intact and unharmed. MIRANDA There you are. I was frightened out of my mind with worry. I heard shooting. Lots of it. THRASH Dreadfully sorry, as you can see there was no need for concern. Luckily for me these chaps couldn't shoot straight. MIRANDA Must you be so casual about everything? Those men were trying to kill you, just like the thugs back at the house. It's all because of me. I can't let you risk your life any more. You need to dump me like a hot potato and go back to London alone. Don't worry about me, I can fend for myself. I'll go to ground, stay with friends. No one will ever find me and use me as a lever against my father. THRASH I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, Miss Blotsky. You and me are stuck with each other. So let's just get in the car and continue on our way. Whatever they choose to throw at us next, trust me, I can handle it. Miranda looks up at the sky. MIRANDA What's that noise? The distant sound of a HELICOPTER, coming closer. THRASH Truth to tell I'm not really-- MIRANDA It sounds like-- They glimpse the helicopter, flying low over tree tops. MIRANDA It's a helicopter. Has it come to pick us up? The helicopter is a gunship, armed with machine guns and rocket pods. THRASH I'm afraid it hasn't. In fact... EXT. HELICOPTER COCKPIT, FLYING - DAY A dwarf pilot, wearing a red uniform and helmet, sits at the controls. He grins evilly. Let's call him IGOR. EXT. CLEARING IN THE WOODS - DAY THRASH I strongly suspect I may have spoken too soon. Come on. This way. Without looking at Miranda he grabs her and pulls her after him, deeper into the woods. THRASH Run for your life, Miss Blotsky. Only a matter of time before he spots the car, then turns on his infra-red sensors and spots us. MIRANDA M-m-might I make a suggestion, Mr. Thrash? THRASH By all means, Miss Blotsky. MIRANDA D-d-do you think you could lead me by the hand, instead of pulling me by the breast? N-not that it's entirely unpleasant, you understand. Thrash realizes his mistake, he didn't take Miranda's hand, he grabbed her boob instead. This time he takes her hand, and they set off again. THRASH I beg your pardon, Miss Blotsky, that was foolish of me. I should have looked before I grabbed. MIRANDA Think nothing of it, Mr. Thrash. You were in a hurry. Perfectly understandable. THRASH Even so, Miss Blotsky, a proper gentleman would have asked before taking such a liberty. MIRANDA I assure you, Mr. Thrash... I've had it up to here with "proper gentlemen". They leave Thrash's car behind as they move further into the woods. EXT. CLEARING IN THE WOODS - DAY The helicopter descends until it's hovering just a few feet off the ground. Igor studies Thrash's car. IGOR (V.O.) Zis is Scorpion. Haf located enemy vehicle. Request permission to burn ze entire area. GENERAL VON KLANK (V.O.) Negative, Scorpion. Permission denied. We want the woman alive. Do you understand? IGOR (V.O.) Scorpion understands. But Scorpion does lot like it. Scorpion wants to make boom boom! EXT. DEEPER IN THE WOODS - DAY Thrash looks at the sky through breaks in the greenery. THRASH Still buzzing around, from the sounds of things. He hasn't napalmed the woods yet, so we should be grateful for small mercies. MIRANDA Good heavens, would they do that? THRASH These people will stop at nothing to achieve their fiendish goals. Unfortunately for them, we will stop at nothing to stop them, if you see what I mean. MIRANDA Yes, I think I-- THRASH That's funny, he's in hover mode. He hasn't moved in ten seconds. Thrash glimpses the helicopter, its nose pointing away from them. THRASH He's skimming the tree tops, hoping to ping us. Keep him busy for a couple of minutes, with luck. Come on, we're going the other way. Thrash leads Miranda away from the helicopter. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - PURSUIT CAR - DAY Thrash and Miranda step out between trees. MIRANDA So where exactly are we...? Oh. She sees where they are, Thrash has brought them back to the road, to the black pursuit car with machine guns. Miranda looks down at Dimitri, unconscious on the ground. THRASH Don't worry, my friend there is taking a peaceful little nap. Thrash climbs up onto the pursuit car. THRASH I know it's not cricket, but I rather thought I'd use their own weapon against them. Besides, shame to waste a good anti-aircraft gun, what? MIRANDA Y-you're going to shoot at the helicopter? Biff inspects the twin machine guns. THRASH That's the general idea. The wonderful thing about the Kilovians is their penchant for World War Two weapons. I bet this old lady has shot down a Heinkel or three. He climbs onto the gun platform and sits behind the guns. Under his control, the guns swivel left and right, and rise up and down. THRASH Hydralics are working like a charm. Ammo drums are over half full. Can't wait to let 'er rip. When I open fire, you might want to clap your hands over your ear, Miss Blotsky. Things could get a little noisy. MIRANDA Thank you for your consideration, Mr. Thrash, I'll try to remember. The helicopter buzzing becomes louder. Thrash lines up the guns. The helicopter slowly hovers into sight. THRASH Here he comes. Can't say I think much of his search pattern. Never mind, that's the least of his problems. Thrash peers over the gun sights... but frowns. THRASH Hang on a second... The helicopter cockpit is empty -- no pilot! THRASH (V.O.) Where's the bloody pilot? Who's flying the bloody thing? Igor is behind the pursuit car, a remote control box with an aerial in one hand, a machine pistol in the other. The machine pistol is as big as Igor. IGOR You vill be putting your hands up. Or else I fill your body with holes. Thrash raises his hands, bewildered. THRASH Where the bloody hell did you--? Damn and blast! Of course! The gunship hovered for ten seconds! IGOR Climb down, please. No trickery. I cannot miss. Thrash climbs down and stands beside Miranda, both keep their hands raised. THRASH All right, you little swine. Now what? Do you expect me to talk? IGOR He he. I see that movie. Was good. Wanted laser beam to cut man in half. Wanted to hear him scream. Like I hear you scream, very soon. THRASH Do your worst, you dog. I'll never-- BLAM! A single shot. Thrash stares for a moment longer, then his eyes close and he pitches forward. MIRANDA Biff! FADE TO BLACK INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY As if awakening from an uncertain dream... A huge Nazi swastika flag. Two grim-looking NAZI SOLDIERS armed with machine pistols. A bed. Thrash is lying on this. He's just woken up. He wears a white smock that falls to his knees. THRASH What the deuce...? He raises his head, looks around the otherwise bare room. It has grey concrete walls and a single exit with no door. THRASH Not to mention where the deuce and how the deuce. Keeping a wary eye on the guards, who watch him in silence, Thrash climbs out of the bed. End excerpt. 03/13
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