(File A56-7W briefing)
Hawke's cabin
(eagle screeching) (hawke plays the cello)
(a Stearman flies overhead and drops a package)
Moore: (as a voiceover while Hawke reads the message) What's here is a gift. Talk costs money. I'll be at the closed-down airstrip over in Crofton in an hour. Come if you're interested.
Hawke: Saint John.
At an old airstrip
Moore: Hello, old stick. Remember me?
Hawke: Peter MacGregor Moore. How could I ever forget?
Moore: Short notice, but I thought you'd make it.
Hawke: Is my brother alive?
Moore: Ah! I said that talk costs money.
Hawke: How much money?
Moore: I'd take a trade. Say, that chopper over there.
Hawke: It's not mine.
Moore: Too bad. What about your cabin? Or maybe this wonderful art collection I've heard so much about. The years haven't improved your sense of humor, have they?
Hawke: Don't you play with me, Moore. Not about this.
Moore: I'll take $1,000 to cover my expenses.
Hawke: Agreed.
Moore: Your brother's being held in this compound. Weighs about a hundred pounds but he's basically healthy. His mind is still in good nick.
Hawke: Where?
Moore: Quon Ling province, North Vietnam. Off-course weather satellite picked him up purely by chance. Saint John is being held with 11 other Caucasians by an ex-NVA colonel named Nguyen Minh Giap. Apparently, a man who holds a grudge. Two of his prisoners are ex-Frog Legionnaires dating all the way back to Dien Bien Phu in '54. Poor sods are in their 60s.
Hawke: How'd you find out about this?
Moore: Another mercenary. He occasionally freelances for the FIRM. After we picked up the shot, we sent him in to take a closer look.
Hawke: So, the FIRM knows all about this?
Moore: Wondering why your friend Archangel didn't tell you? Don't be too hard on old Michael. He's got a task force together, ready for a rescue mission. Trained them personally at Langley so they wouldn't screw up, like they did in Iran. At the last minute, the State Department pulled the rug from under him. Last I heard, they were negotiating for a release. Now you know as much as I know. I suggest you don't tip your hand to dear Michael.
Hawke: Don't you want your money?
Moore: I had a brother once. I lost him in Rhodesia a couple of years ago. It's on the house. Even an old whore like me has a heart buried somewhere.
(Stearman takes off)
(Hawke lifts off in his chopper)
(chopper crashes)
Chopper crash site
(car screeches to a halt)
(fire crackling)
(Various voices: Over here, come on.)
Hospital
(siren wailing)
(heart beats) Nurse: It's an artery. It won't stop.
Piggy-back lV.
Rothchild: He's fibrillating! Heart paddles. Heart paddles. Stay back.
(defibrillator administers shocks)
A private floor in a hospital
(woman on PA) Dr. Greenspan to O.R. Dr. Greenspan.
(woman on PA)Oncology 629. Oncology 629.
(machine beeping)
(alarm buzzer)
(elevator door opens)
(scuffle as orderly restrains Hawke)
Simmons: Get him back. You shouldn't be here. This floor is private. Get lost. Now!
Susan: Sorry.
Simmons: I thought you said that elevator was fixed. It just came up here with someone from downstairs. Simmons Make sure it doesn't happen again.
(inside Hawke's room) Hawke: Where am I?
Simmons You're in a hospital. You were in a helicopter crash. Wait.
Hawke: How long have I been here?
Simmons Shh. Rest now. Doctor Rothchild has been called for. And he'll answer all your questions when he gets here.
Hawke: What day is this?
Simmons It's Wednesday.
Hawke: I have to make a phone call. I have to call Dom.
Simmons: You will have to wait.
Hawke: It can't wait.
Rothchild: It already has, Mr. Hawke. You've been comatose for the better part of a year. My name is Dr. Rothchild. I've been your physician for the past eight-and-a-half months.
Rothchild: Your pupiIs are working like the aperture of an expensive camera. It's a good sign.
Hawke: What is that thing?
Rothchild: This is an EEG machine. Records the electrical impuIses in the brain. It telIs us if there's been any damage done.
Hawke: There's no chance of....
Rothchild: There's always a chance when someone's been comatose for a long time. Do you remember anything of the crash?
Hawke: Bits and pieces.
Rothchild: We think that you had a heart seizure at the controIs of your helicopter. Shortly after you arrived here, you went into complete cardiac arrest. So, clinically, you were gone for several minutes.
Hawke: Did a man named, uh, Dominic Santini come to see me?
Rothchild: There's lots of news that you have to catch up on, Mr. Hawke. It's best that we move slowly.
Hawke: Doctor, that's a pretty simple question. Did Dominic come to see me?
Rothchild: Sat in that chair and he talked to you for hours on end. He was convinced you could hear him, even though you didn't answer. He was a good friend.
Hawke: What do you mean was?
Rothchild: Mr. Santini is dead.
Hawke: How?
Rothchild: He and several other men raided a prison camp in North Vietnam that was still holding Americans prisoner. Your brother, Saint John, was among them. He was rescued, but Mr. Santini and another man were killed in the process.
Hawke: Saint John's here?
Rothchild: Yes. He is on his way back from Alexandria, Virginia. We called him last night when you came to.
Hawke: When was this raid? Who's the other man?
Rothchild: The raid was ... was way back in July. The other man was a man named Coldsmith-Briggs.
Hawke: Archangel.
(outside Hawke's room) Rothchild: He's been told.
Lisa: What do you mean? You told him? Just point-blank?
Rothchild: What else could I do? He asked me straight out.
Lisa: You were wrong to overload him so quickly. We're dealing with a year of his life that's gone. It's extremely difficuIt to assimilate. I wish you'd called me first.
Rothchild If you're so concerned, Doctor, I suggest you get over there and begin the therapeutic process.
Rothchild: Do you agree? (on the phone) He's been told. No. He actually took it quite well, considering. Very strong.
(Inside Hawke's room) Male TV anchor: (on TV) From Great Britain the news of Lady Di's filing for divorce from Prince Charles has come as quite a shock to both families, as well as society columnists all over the world. Margo, what do you think about that?
Female TV anchor: Well, who could have predicted it a few months ago?
Male anchor: It seems to me, I recall seeing a tabloid on my market checkout counter that spoke of it being a possibility.
Female anchor: I wonder what her settlement will be?
Male anchor: Probably, they will split the crown jeweIs.
(TV is switched off)
(woman on PA system) Doctor Barr, 377. Doctor Barr, call 377.
Lisa: I'm Dr. Holgate. May I talk with you for a moment?
Hawke: Yeah.
Lisa: Oh. I see they've ... they've given you the articles that they were saving for you. Your emotions must be going in a lot of different directions at the moment. A good friend dead, a brother coming back as if from the dead. A year gone by without being accounted for.
Lisa: You're a shrink.
Hawke: I wondered when they'd send you in.
Lisa: You think I'm standard operating procedure, do you?
Hawke: For the FIRM you are.
Lisa: Huh-huh.
Hawke: That is who's paying for this, isn't it?
Lisa: Huh-huh.
Hawke: What the hell is that stuff they're giving me?
Lisa: Just a five-percent-glucose solution. They'll disconnect it when you start eating solid foods again.
Hawke: And what's making me so groggy?
Lisa: Well, you've been hibernating almost a year. Your metabolism has slowed down to a crawl. Your muscles have atrophied. It's the same thing up there. Your synapses slow down from lack of use. You feel groggy, loggy, punchy. You'll feel better in time. I'll come back tomorrow.
In an elevator in the hospital
(woman on PA system) Attention please. There is a blue Chevrolet blocking the emergency ambulance entrance. There is a blue Chevrolet blocking the emergency ambulance entrance.
Susan: I didn't know they were getting divorced.
St. John: Yeah, life is unpredictable, isn't it?
Susan: Yeah.
St. John: This must be your floor.
Susan: Oh, yeah. Yours, too. Doesn't go any further.
St. John: Does if you have a key.
(woman on PA system) Dr. Stevens, Pediatrics.
Susan: Bye.
St. John: Bye. Have a nice day.
(Hawke's room)
WORK IN PROGRESS