THE BOURNE IDENTITY
by
Tony Gilroy
Based on the novel
by
ROBERT LUDLUM
Paris Draft
9/20/00
DARKNESS. THE SOUND OF WIND AND SPRAY.
MUSIC. TITLES.
EXT. OCEAN -- NIGHT
The darkness is actually water. A SEARCHLIGHT arcs across
heavy ocean swells. Half-a-dozen flashlights -- weaker
beams -- racing along what we can see is the deck of an
aging FISHING TRAWLER.
FISHERMEN struggling with a gaff -- something in the water --
A HUMAN CORPSE.
EXT. FISHING BOAT DECK -- NIGHT
THE BODY sprawled there. The Sailors all talking at once --
three languages going -- brave chatter to mask the presence
of death --
SAILOR #1
-- Jesus, look at him --
SAILOR #2
-- what? -- you never saw a dead
man before? --
SAILOR #3
-- look, look he was shot --
(nudging the body--)
SAILOR #1
-- don't, don't do that --
SAILOR #2
-- he's dead, you think he cares? --
SAILOR #1
-- so have some respect -- it's a --
(stopping as--)
THE BODY MOVES! -- convulsing -- coughing up sea water --
the Sailors -- freaked -- jumping back -- standing there, as --
THE MAN begins to breathe.
INT. FISHING BOAT BUNK ROOM -- NIGHT
A wreck. Too small for all the people in here right now --
SAILORS sweeping off the table -- rough hands laying THE MAN
down --
THE CAPTAIN -- brutal and impatient -- watching from the
door as --
GIANCARLO tears through the clutter -- searching for a
medical kit buried in the shambles. GIANCARLO is sixty. A
bloodshot soul.
GIANCARLO
-- it's here -- hang on -- it's
here somewhere -- give me a
minute -- get some blankets -- get
some blankets on him --
(finding the kit--)
-- here we go -- here it is --
GIANCARLO with an old trunk -- just getting it open, as --
THE CAPTAIN
Giancarlo.
(Giancarlo turns
back--)
We pick him up? Okay, we have to
pick him up. But that's as far as it
goes.
GIANCARLO
He needs a doctor.
CAPTAIN
Fuck that. He lives? He dies? I
don't care. We've wasted two hours
on this shit already. You do what
you can, but we're not going back.
(pure steel now)
You understand me?
GIANCARLO
Yes, sir.
CAPTAIN
(to the rest of them)
Let's get back to work!
GIANCARLO watching them run out. Snagging a quick pull on a
pint of rum he's got stashed and --
INT. FISHING BOAT BUNK ROOM -- DAWN -- TIME CUTS
Transformed into a makeshift operating room. A light swings
overhead. THE MAN layed out across the table. Sounds --
groans -- words -- snatches of them -- all in different
languages.
GIANCARLO playing doctor in a greasy kitchen apron. Cutting
away the clothes. Turning THE MAN on his side. Two bullet
wounds in the back. Probing them, judging them.
Now -- GIANCARLO with a flashlight in his teeth -- TINK --
TINK -- TINK -- bullet fragments falling into a washed-out
olive jar.
Now -- something catching GIANCARLO'S EYE -- A SCAR ON THE
MAN'S HIP -- another fragment -- exacto knife cutting in --
tweezers extracting A SMALL PLASTIC TUBE, not a bullet at
all, and as it comes free --
THE MAN'S HAND SLAMS down onto GIANCARLO'S and we SMASH CUT
INTO A --
FIRST PERSON POV -- we are staring up at --
GIANCARLO
You're awake. Can you hear me?
(we're blinking--)
You've been shot. I'm trying to
help you.
(we're trying to find
our voice--)
You were in the water. You've been
shot. It's okay now.
THE MAN
Where am I?
GIANCARLO
(switching to English)
You're American. I thought so.
From your teeth -- the dental work --
THE MAN
Where am I?
GIANCARLO
You're on a boat. A fishing boat.
Italian flag. We're out of Vietri.
(he smiles)
It's the cold that saved you. The
water. The wounds are clean. I'm
not a doctor, but the wounds, it
looks okay. It's clean.
THE MAN
How did I get here?
GIANCARLO
You we're lost at sea. They pulled
you out.
(we say nothing)
Who are you?
(still nothing)
You were shot -- two bullets -- in
the back. You understand me?
(we try to nod)
Who are you?
Long dead pause.
THE MAN
I don't know.
EXT. OCEAN -- DAY
The Trawler plows through heavy seas.
INT. FISHING BOAT BUNK ROOM -- DAY
GIANCARLO is hunched over a desk -- tweezers and
flashlight -- busy working at that strange plastic tube that
came out of THE MAN's hip.
THE MAN is bandaged. He's sitting up, and it must hurt like
hell, but physical pain is not the thing troubling him right
now. He's staring around the room -- at his body -- at the
walls -- haunted --
THE MAN
What if it doesn't come back?
GIANCARLO
(still working that tube)
I told you. You need to rest.
Silence. THE MAN can't rest. Too busy trying to make sense
of all this.
THE MAN
I can read. I can read that sign
on the door. I can count. I can
talk...
(focusing now--)
What are you doing?
GIANCARLO rummaging around -- finding a magnifying glass --
THE MAN
What is that?
INSERT -- MAGNIFIED POV -- a slip of plastic from the
tube -- written there -- 000-7-17-12-0-14-26. GEMEINSCHAFT
BANK, ZURICH.
GIANCARLO
It came from your hip. Under the
skin.
(turning back--)
You have a bank in Zurich.
(waiting)
You remember Zurich?
THE MAN
No.
GIANCARLO staring at him now. Different suddenly. Suspicious.
GIANCARLO
Look, I'm just on this boat, okay?
I'm an engineer. Whatever this is,
it's not for me to be involved, okay?
THE MAN
I don't remember Zurich.
GIANCARLO pulls his pint. Takes a hit.
GIANCARLO
(offering the
bottle--)
You drink rum?
THE MAN
I don't know.
EXT. FISHING BOAT DECK -- NIGHT
THE MAN stands at the rail, staring out to sea. So lost.
He turns to head inside -- there, a surfcasting rod propped
against a locker.
THE MAN picks up the rod -- flips the bail -- traps the
line -- now he's casting far out into the darkness. And for
the first time, he smiles.
INT. FISHING BOAT GALLEY -- NIGHT
A ratty old espresso machine. THE MAN standing there,
staring at the thing like it's a test. Then his hands begin
to move -- trying to pack a grind -- trying to fit it in --
turning on the steam and --
The whole thing explodes.
EXT. FISHING BOAT DECK -- DAY
THE MAN alone doing chin-ups on the deck rail. He's still
bandaged and the wounds must hurt like hell, but he's
pushing himself. Using the pain -- bathing in it -- maybe
even hoping that it will hold some answer for him.
INT. FISHING BOAT GALLEY -- NIGHT
A chess board. Wooden pieces jumbled in a box. THE MAN
hesitates -- takes a black knight from the box -- lingers
for a moment -- and then places it on the board. He's off
and running. He knows this. Placing pieces faster and
faster -- still setting it up, as we --
INT. FISHING BOAT HEAD -- NIGHT
One of the ugliest bathrooms on the planet. THE MAN
standing before a pitted, tarnished, cataract of a mirror.
Staring at himself.
And then he speaks.
THE MAN
(in perfect French)
(I don't know who I am. Do you
know who I am? Do have any idea
who I am?)
And then he stops. Blinks. Wipes away the perspiration
just beading on his forehead.
THE MAN
(in perfect Dutch)
(Tell me who I am. If you know who
I am, please stop fucking around
and tell me.)
No answer. Just that face. His face. Who am I?
And what else is inside there?
EXT. FISHING BOAT -- DAY
SAILORS hauling in the nets. THE MAN -- still bandaged, but
healing -- working beside them. Earning his keep. Getting
healthy.
EXT. ITALIAN COASTLINE -- DAWN
A small, colorful fishing village. The trawler motoring in.
INT. THE FISHING BOAT BUNK ROOM -- SAME TIME
THE MAN buttoning up borrowed clothes. GIANCARLO pulling
some cash from his pocket --
GIANCARLO
(offering the money)
It's not much, but it should get
you to Switzerland.
THE MAN
I won't forget this.
GIANCARLO gives him a look. Shakes his head, and --
INT. POKEY ITALIAN TRAIN STATION -- DAY
The ticket window. THE MAN and a TICKET AGENT.
TICKET AGENT
Una sola via?
THE MAN
Si. One way. Una sola via.
EXT. TGV -- DAY
A HELICOPTER SHOT -- a bullet train speeds through snow-
capped Alps. We move in on a window -- and staring out is...
INT. TGV TRAIN -- DAY
...THE MAN. People all around him -- families --
businessmen -- normal people going about their lives. THE
MAN turns back to the window, but he's not watching the
scenery -- he's looking at his reflection. So lost. His
face suddenly plunged into darkness as the train bombs into
a tunnel...
EXT. TRAIN -- NIGHT
...and out of the darkness into night and the HELICOPTER
SHOT, as the train races toward ZURICH.
INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
A VIDEO MONITOR -- FULL FRAME -- meet WOMBOSI. He's an
African ex-dictator, think Idi Amin crossed with Mobutu.
He's in some sort of throne room. And he's angry.
Bodyguards and a translator hovering nervously around him.
What this is, is NEWS FOOTAGE -- an interview conducted by a
German TV station.
WOMBOSI
(he speaks english)
...no, no, no -- the time is not
right, my enemies are too strong.
I'm telling you to wait for this,
you understand? I'm telling you
this, and I'm making a warning to
all those peoples out there that
think that my powers have become so
weak that they can play with me as
they wish. You will see -- I will
tell you when the evidence is clear.
Then you will have a story. My old
friends will hear about themselves.
(stopping, freezing
on that image, and--)
MARSHALL, a CIA bigwig has the remote control. And the floor.
MARSHALL
That's Nykwana Wombosi speaking in
Paris the day before yesterday.
I'm sure most of you have a passing
knowledge of Mr. Wombosi. Some of
you on the African desks have
worked with him over the years.
Some of you very closely...
TWELVE CIA MANDARINS sitting around the table like kids in
detention. We will tour the faces as MARSHALL continues,
but the guy we're interested in is named WARD ABBOTT.
Picture a sawier, slicker John Poindexter.
MARSHALL
...He was an irritation before he
took power. He was a problem when
he was in power. And he's been a
disaster for us in exile.
(the tape--)
Wombosi likes to send us messages
through the European media. This
is an interview we pulled down from
a local German television station
in Dresden. We've been getting
these little broadsides every
couple of months. He knows this --
he knows that -- he's writing a
book about the Agency's history in
Africa -- he's going to name names.
It's basically a shakedown...
ABBOTT'S FACE says this is news to him. HIS HANDS suggest
otherwise.
MARSHALL
This interview -- and I'll make the
tape available for anyone who wants
it -- he goes on to claim that he
has just survived an assassination
attempt. He says it's us. He says
he's got proof.
(beat)
The overwhelming negative
ramifications of this should be
obvious.
(hard and dry)
The Director wants to know if there
is any possible shred of truth in
this accusation.
Long pause. No hands go up.
INT. ZURICH TRAIN STATION -- NIGHT
THE MAN wandering through the terminal. Passing A PIZZA
PLACE closing up for the night.
THE MAN checks his funds. Just enough for one cold slice.
EXT. ZURICH STREETS -- NIGHT
THE MAN walking aimlessly.
EXT. ZURICH PARK -- NIGHT
THE MAN trying to get comfortable on a bench. It's chilly
but this will have to do until morning.
Just settling in, when --
ZURICH COP #1 (OS)
(authority German)
(Can't you read the signs?)
THE MAN turns. TWO ZURICH COPS coming toward him.
ZURICH COP #2
(On your feet. Let's go. Right now.)
THE MAN makes his feet. They're on top of him now.
ZURICH COP #1
(The park is closed. There's no
sleeping in the park.)
ZURICH COP #2
(Let's see some identification.)
THE MAN not sure what to do. Eyes moving. Mouth shut.
ZURICH COP #1
(Come on. Your papers. Let's go.)
THE MAN
I've lost them. I've.
(German now)
(My papers. They are lost.)
ZURICH COP #1
(not sympathetic)
(Okay. Let's go. Put your hands up.)
ZURICH COP #2
(pulling his nightstick)
(-- come on -- hands up -- up --)
THE MAN raising his hand slowly -- ZURICH COP #1 reaching up
to pat him down --
THE MAN
-- look, I'm just trying to sleep
okay? --
(German again)
(-- I just need to sleep --)
ZURICH COP #2 has heard enough -- giving a sharp poke with
the nightstick -- into THE MAN's back -- and that's the last
thing he'll remember because --
THE MAN is in motion.
A single turn -- spinning -- catching COP #2 completely off
guard -- the heel of his hand driving up into the guy's
throat and --
COP #1 -- behind him -- trying to reach for his pistol, but
THE MAN -- still turning -- all his weight moving in a
single fluid attack -- a sweeping kick and --
COP #1 -- he's falling -- catching the bench -- trying to
fight back but -- THE MAN -- like a machine -- just
unbelievably fast -- three jackhammer punches -- down-down-
down and -- COP #1 -- head slammed into the bench -- blood
spraying from his nose -- he's out cold and --
COP #2 -- writhing on the ground -- gasping for air --
struggling with his holster -- THE MAN -- his foot --
down -- like a vise -- onto COP #2's arm -- shattering the
bone -- COP #2 starting to scream, and then silenced because --
THE MAN -- he's got the pistol -- so fucking fast -- he's
got it right up against COP #2's forehead -- right on the
edge of pulling the trigger -- he is, he's gonna shoot him --
ZURICH COP #2
(gasping, pleading)
(-- no -- please God no -- please
don't -- please no -- my Go--)
(stopping as--)
THE MAN slams the gun against his temple and --
This fight is over.
THE MAN standing there. In the silence. Two unconscious
cops at his feet. Blood on his pants. What just happened?
How did he do this? And there's THE GUN in his hand. And
God, it just feels so natural -- checking it -- stripping it
down -- holding it -- aiming it -- like this is something
he's done a million times before...
This is something he definitely knows how to do.
And then he stops cold. Throwing down the gun. Running off
into the darkness --
INT. TREADSTONE -- DAY
A deep, inner office. An ops office. Operations. Unlabeled
and anonymous. A backwater project center hidden deep
within the Langley facility. Utilitarian. Several rooms
linked like a suite.
Small staff. SEVERAL TECHNICIANS. One or two for
communications. A couple for research. People are at their
posts. And it's all quiet. But they are busy. Quietly
urgent. This is a place under siege.
ZORN is the number two here. Brilliant bloodless lapdog.
He's coming through the suite. Coming through quickly.
Heading toward the boss's little office at the back --
TED CONKLIN. Ivy League Ollie North. Buttoned down.
Square jaw. Everything tucked away. But there's tension in
the air. Work on the desk. Cot in the corner.
CONKLIN
(looking up)
What?
ZORN
Abbott wants to talk.
CONKLIN
Tell him we're busy.
ZORN
I tried.
INT. CIA COMMISSARY -- NIGHT
ABBOTT with coffee. CONKLIN not lingering.
ABBOTT
Storm clouds are gathering, Ted.
It looks like rain and I don't have
a thing to wear.
CONKLIN
I don't know what we're talking about.
ABBOTT
We're talking about Marseille.
We're talking about Nykwana Wombosi.
And I'm asking you if this abortion
in Marseille has anything to do
with Treadstone.
(silence)
Was this Treadstone?
CONKLIN
You're asking me a direct question?
ABBOTT
Yes.
CONKLIN
I thought you were never going to
do that.
Silence. Pressure drop.
ABBOTT
They're putting together an agency
oversight committee. They're going
to look through everyone's budgets.
Treadstone is a rather sizable line
item in my ledger.
(beat)
What am I going to do about that?
CONKLIN
You'd want to make that go away.
You'd want to remind them that
Treadstone is a training
organization. That it's all
theoretical. You'd want to sign
off on that.
ABBOTT
And what if I couldn't do that?
CONKLIN
Then I'd have to explain Treadstone.
And you'd have to explain how you
let me get this far.
(silence)
Doesn't sound like much of a Plan-B,
does it?
(Abbott staring)
We'll clean up the field. You
clean up your budgets.
EXT. ZURICH -- DAY
Morning in the financial district. Upscale. Uptight.
GEMEINSCHAFT BANK just one of many elegant fortresses on
this street. Everything just now opening for business. TWO
GUARDS unlocking the front door and --
THE MAN across the street. Tucked in the shadows. Checking
for cops and trouble. Looks clear. He's walking and --
INT. BANK RECEPTION AREA -- DAY
Ornate, formidable and tech at the same time.
RECEPTIONIST
(Can I help you?)
THE MAN standing before her. Looking very out of place.
THE MAN
I'm here about a numbered account.
THE RECEPTIONIST nods. Pulls a pen and bank card.
RECEPTIONIST
(instant English)
If you'll just enter your account
number here I'll direct you to the
appropriate officer.
THE MAN takes the pen, as we --
INT. BANK SECURITY CHECKPOINT -- DAY
A BIO-METRIC SCANNER. A piece of ultra-tech amidst the
Baroque. TWO SERIOUS BANK GUARDS manning the equipment.
THE MAN standing there, staring down at this machine.
Something ominously decisive about this. What if it's him?
What if it's not?
BANK GUARD #1
(they've been waiting)
(Your hand, sir...)
THE MAN focuses. Here we go -- BANK GUARD #2 guiding his
open palm onto the mirrored scanning surface.
THE MAN catching his reflection for a moment before a wave
of white light passes beneath his hand and now --
INT. BANK HALLWAY -- DAY
THE MAN being led by A THIRD GUARD to a special elevator.
INT. DEEPER INSIDE THE BANK -- DAY
Elevator doors open. THE MAN steps out. MR. APFEL -- anal
Zurich banker -- waiting there.
APFEL
Good morning, sir. I assume you're
here about your box.
THE MAN
...yes...
(what now?)
The box.
APFEL nods. Gestures down the corridor --
INT. BANK SAFETY DEPOSIT VIEWING ROOM -- DAY
Sterile and kind of odd. But total privacy. THE MAN
sitting there, as A DEPOSIT GUARD places a large SAFETY
DEPOSIT BOX before him. THE GUARD leaves the room. Closing
the door behind him.
THE MAN is alone. And there it is, right in front of him.
This is it. Here are the answers. He lifts the lid.
THE BOX. There's a shallow tray on top. In this tray: a
beat-up passport in the name of Jason Bourne. A French
driver's license with a Parisian address. Credit cards for
Jason Bourne.
THE MAN. Holding these objects close -- as if by holding
them he might absorb their essence. Forcing himself to
believe. This is him. His picture. There it is. He's
Jason Bourne.
BOURNE
My name is Jason Bourne.
(sounds good)
Hi, I'm Jason. Jason Bourne.
Jason Bourne, nice to meet you.
BACK TO -- THE BOX -- the shallow tray on top. There's
Kleenex. Several sets of contact lenses. A knife. A comb.
Three sticks of gum. A ring. A pair of sunglasses. A Rolex.
BOURNE setting these things aside. Lifting the top tray.
Staring into THE DEEP BOTTOM TRAY and --
First of all...
MONEY. Lots of it. Ten thousand dollar stacks of hundreds.
Lots of them. Close to a million dollars. There's A GUN.
A very good gun. Several clips of ammo. And...
FIVE MORE PASSPORTS. All clean. Crisp. Brand new. All
with his photo inside. Five different names. Three
different Countries. Each one of these pristine passports
clipped to a piece of card stock that says:
NAME:
NATIONALITY:
PLACE OF ISSUE:
SIGNATURE SAMPLE:
And a bar code.
Two Dutch passports. A French. A South African. A Belgian.
And...
There's one piece of card stock still with the paper clip in
place. And no passport. This card reads:
NAME: John Michael Kane
NATIONALITY: U.S.A.
PLACE OF ISSUE: Paris, France
There's a signature sample.
And a bar code.
But no passport. This one is missing.
BOURNE sitting there. Trying to push his confusion away.
BOURNE
Bourne. My name is Jason Bourne.
I live at 121, Rue de la Jardin, Paris.
But there's something hollow about this. He came looking
for one identity and now he's faced with six. The money...
The gun...
Suddenly, it's all fucked up.
BOURNE into gear. Looking around the room -- there --
there's a pile of red canvas burn bags in the corner.
BOURNE grabbing one -- stuffing everything into it --
everything except...
The gun. He doesn't want the gun. No guns.
INT. BANK SAFETY DEPOSIT OUTER AREA -- DAY
BOURNE is done. Handing the box back to THE DEPOSIT GUARD --
BOURNE
(I'm trying to think how long it's
been since I was here.)
DEPOSIT GUARD
(I'm not sure. Must be three weeks.)
EXT. STREETS OF ZURICH -- DAY -- VARIOUS SHOTS
BOURNE exits the bank. The red bag full to its limit. He's
walking briskly now. Looking for a taxi. Nothing in sight.
BOURNE crossing the street. Shit, there's A COP on the
corner -- turn -- change pace -- make it look natural --
BOURNE around a corner. And it's looking good for a
moment -- but only a moment -- TWO MORE COPS walking a
beat -- walking this way -- turn -- cut -- cross the street --
BOURNE heading down a boulevard. Trying to look small.
Pulse starting to race. Fighting the paranoia. Where the
hell is a cab? Turning back fast as A SIREN starts bleeding
in from behind him --
It's just an ambulance.
BOURNE turning back. Forcing himself to focus. And fuck --
there's A METER MAID, and she's stopped writing up a
ticket -- she's staring at him and --
BOURNE trying not to panic -- don't run -- smile -- stay
small -- get to the corner -- scan the options -- but --
THE METER MAID -- she's watching him go and she's pulling
her radio and --
BOURNE hitting this next corner -- banging a right --
forcing himself not to run -- glancing back and --
THERE'S ANOTHER COP -- but this one is jogging --
searching -- he's got his radio out and --
FINALLY TO --
BOURNE bailing on the street -- disappearing into --
EXT. U.S. EMBASSY COMPOUND -- DAY
Big gates. Speed barricades. SEVERAL U.S. MARINES standing
guard near a gate house. An American flag. Lots of people
coming and going. BOURNE playing it as normal as possible
as he heads for the entrance.
INT. U.S. CONSULATE ZURICH -- VISA ROOM -- DAY
The passport and visa office. Big room. No windows.
Unpleasant on purpose. Two lines: A short one for U.S.
Citizens, a marathon for everyone else. CONSULATE CLERKS
stationed in open cubicles along the back wall. And it's a
zoo. American tourists who've lost their passports.
Foreigners looking for visas. Asylum seekers. Everyone
here has a problem.
BOURNE on the U.S. line. Standing there trying to think.
What's he gonna say? What can he say? With the cops
outside, and the incident in the park, then the bank...
MARIE (O.S.)
-- no, this is not my current
address. It was my current address
two days ago when I started
standing in line outside --
A NEARBY CUBICLE. Meet MARIE KREUTZ. German. Big energy.
Real beauty hidden beneath the armor. And armor it is,
because this is a warrior in full, crisis battlemode.
MARIE
-- and so now I lost my apartment,
I have no address, and I have no
visa, and you keep telling me how
much help you cannot give me!
A CONSULATE CLERK caught in her headlights.
CLERK
Miss Kreutz, please... I'm gonna
have to ask you to keep your voice
down.
MARIE
All the papers -- all the papers
they asked for -- I brought all the
papers --
CLERK
Miss Kreutz, excuse me, but you
entered into a fraudulent marriage
in an effort to circumvent the
immigration laws of the United
States --
MARIE
You only know that because I told
you!
(she's incredulous)
Ask the case officer -- find his
name -- it's on the papers -- I
told him all this myself! --
(tearing through the
papers now--)
CLERK
-- it's not the source of the
information that's important here --
MARIE
-- I paid this fucking guy -- I
paid him four thousand dollars --
my last four thousand dollars to
marry me, okay? -- I told this to
the case officer last week...
(she's found it--)
...here -- Mr. Thomas. I told Mr.
Thomas I didn't know this guy was
already married -- I admitted this!
CLERK
-- Miss Kreutz, please --
MARIE
-- I'm the one that got ripped
off! -- not you -- not the United
States government -- me -- I'm the
one being ripped off!
CLERK
So now you're asking for a student
visa?
That shuts her up. Yes. Today she's a student.
INT. CIA OFFICE COMPLEX -- NIGHT (BUT SAME TIME)
Motion -- CONKLIN racing down a staircase -- ZORN chasing
after --
CONKLIN
-- and they're sure it's him? --
ZORN
-- he accessed the account --
CONKLIN
-- but it was him --
ZORN
-- yes, sir, it's confirmed --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE -- VISA ROOM -- DAY
BOURNE on line. Fear meter rising by the minute.
BOURNE'S POV
Scanning the room -- the perimeter -- the people -- A
TURKISH MAN almost in tears as he tries to explain his case
to a DESK CLERK -- TWO AMERICAN BACKPACKERS that have lost
their passports -- MARIE still in the midst of her madness --
A SECURITY CAMERA high on the wall capturing everything --
lots of data -- too much going on and --
MAN ON LINE (OS)
(from behind him)
You're up.
BOURNE comes to. Shit. It's his turn.
A WOMAN CLERK waving him forward. BOURNE trying to think --
what the fuck is he doing? -- what's he gonna say? -- now
he's at the window, and if he was looking for a friendly
face, he came to the wrong place --
WOMAN CLERK
(cold shit)
You're a U.S. Citizen?
BOURNE
Yes.
(pause)
I mean, I think so. Yes. Yes...
WOMAN CLERK
Well, either you are, or you aren't.
BOURNE
Right.
WOMAN CLERK
You have your passport?
BOURNE
I have a passport. I've got...
(the bag there, but...)
Actually, it's a little complicated.
WOMAN CLERK
Do you have your passport, sir?
BOURNE
Look, maybe I should just...
WOMAN CLERK
Sir, you waited on line.
BOURNE
Yeah, I know...
But he's already bailing, walking away from the woman, the
window, the room -- he's out of here --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE LOBBY -- DAY
BOURNE on the move -- hustling back toward the lobby --
trying to snag a view out to the street -- there's a window
just ahead and --
BOURNE'S WINDOW POV -- ZURICH COPS -- outside -- on the
street -- half-a-dozen of them lingering around the entry
gate and --
BOURNE stalled for a moment -- options dwindling -- he can't
go back to the passport office -- he can't go out the front
and --
The lobby looks tough -- there are two other points of entry
into the main building, but they're both guarded by MARINES
and METAL DETECTORS --
As he gets closer -- it gets worse --
A ZURICH POLICE INSPECTOR near the door, in deep conversation
with TWO MARINES and THE EMBASSY SECURITY OFFICER and --
BOURNE trying to burrow through the human traffic -- trying
to get to THE LARGER OF THE TWO ENTRY GATES -- this one the
farthest from the front door and the passport office
corridor, and it's the most crowded -- A COUPLE PEOPLE lined
up here -- waiting for one of THE THREE MARINES STAFFING
THIS POST to check their bags and pass them through a metal
detector and --
SECURITY CHIEF (OS)
-- stop! -- stop right there! --
BOURNE turns back -- as does everyone else in the lobby --
SECURITY CHIEF
(from across the lobby)
-- YOU -- red bag -- the red bag --
stop right there! -- hands up! --
BOURNE glancing back -- ONE OF THE GATE MARINES BEHIND
HIM -- the guy's raising his M-16 --
GUN MARINE
-- you heard him -- let's move
it! -- down -- let's go! --
BOURNE nodding -- total compliance -- starting to drop --
but only starting, because now --
He's swinging the backpack and --
THE GUN MARINE -- nailed -- blind-sided -- no chance and --
BOURNE -- all motion -- all forward -- all perfect --
vaulting the metal detector even as he pulls ONE OF THE
PEOPLE ON LINE around to shield his back and --
ANOTHER GATE MARINE -- right there -- trying to grab him --
making his move -- BOURNE -- almost an afterthought -- his
boot -- like a knife -- out of nowhere -- SNAP! -- the guy's
arm just shattered and --
THE SECURITY CHIEF -- freaking out -- TWO MARINES WITH
HIM -- they're raising their weapons and there's people in
the lobby and --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- no -- no -- hold your fire! --
BOURNE -- landing hard on THE GUN MARINE -- rolling away
from the gate -- into the building now -- coming up with the
backpack and --
SOMEONE SCREAMING
-- he's got a gun! -- he's got a
gun! --
And he does -- BOURNE with the M-16! -- coming up with it --
coming up on the move -- swinging it around as he searches
for an escape route and THE GUN -- it's like a magic wand of
hysteria --
PEOPLE IN THE LOBBY -- SCREAMING -- diving away -- everyone
dropping for cover and --
BOURNE -- bailing -- on the run -- sprinting down a
hallway -- tossing away the M-16 as he sprints into the
building --
THE SECURITY CHIEF
(frantic on his radio
now--)
-- red! -- red! -- red! -- code
red! -- South side entrance! --
male -- five-ten, brown hair -- black
jacket -- red bag --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE OFFICE HALLWAY -- DAY
Quiet for a second -- offices on either side of a carpeted
hallway -- BUREAUCRAT-TYPES doing their thing, when suddenly --
BUREAUCRAT #1
Excuse me? Can I help you?
(but backing up as he
says it, because--)
Here comes BOURNE -- coming fast -- and he definitely does
not belong back here --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE LOBBY/SECURITY GATE -- DAY
Panic -- people fleeing the lobby -- MORE MARINES hustling
in from outside and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIRE STAIRWELL -- DAY
Door flies open -- BOURNE bombing in -- shit! -- it's a dead
end -- no way out but up the stairs --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE GROUND FLOOR CORRIDOR -- DAY
SECURITY CHIEF -- THREE MARINES -- sidearms drawn -- jogging
past the INNER OFFICES -- running beside them, a frantic guy
in a suit --
DEPUTY DCM
-- what're you talking about? --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- we're evacuating the building --
DEPUTY DCM
-- we're in the middle of a trade
meeting! --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- call the code! -- I want
everyone out! --
DEPUTY DCM
-- you gotta give me more to go on --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- he's running from the cops, he's
got a bag filled with God knows
what, he's in the building and I
don't know where! --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE BACK STAIRWAY -- DAY
BOURNE climbing fast -- two -- three -- stairs at a time --
racing up as a SECURITY ALARM STARTS SCREAMING -- bleet --
bleet -- bleet --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH-FLOOR GRAND HALLWAY -- DAY
THE ALARM ringing everywhere -- TRADE CONFERENCEES -- sixty
confused and frightened people -- spilling out into the
corridor --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH FLOOR KITCHENETTE -- DAY
A NEW DOOR flying open -- it's BOURNE -- ready for anything,
but there's nothing -- he's in a butler's prep area off the
main conference room -- momentum stalled for a moment --
nothing in here but tableclothes and silverware and coffee
cups and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE BACK STAIRWAY -- DAY
THREE MARINES -- armed and stoked -- staring up the
stairs -- leapfrogging -- point-to-point assault procedure --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE MAIN STAIRS -- DAY
Carpeted and grand -- SECURITY CHIEF with FIVE MARINES
NOW -- charging up -- pushing past THE PEOPLE trying to come
down and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH FLOOR GRAND HALLWAY -- DAY
Completely clogged now -- PANICKED TRADE PEOPLE all over --
EMBASSY TYPES -- trying to herd them toward the main
stairs -- everyone talking at once -- THAT ALARM STILL
BLARING and --
VOICE (OS)
-- no! -- the other way! -- take
the backstairs! -- the backstairs! --
he's on the other side -- there's a
bomb! --
And as the crowd reacts -- as they mob back away from the
main stairway -- we see -- holy shit, the guy yelling was
BOURNE --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE BACK STAIRWELL -- DAY
THE ASSAULT MARINES -- still climbing -- weapons out --
clean and fast -- one more flight to go -- ready for
anything -- completely freaking out as the door above them
on the fifth floor flies open and --
LEAD MARINE
-- HALT! -- STOP WHERE YOU ARE! --
MARINE GUNS swinging up -- trigger fingers tense and --
IT'S TRADE PEOPLE! and now THEY'RE SCREAMING and this
combined with THE ALARM and THE MARINES YELLING FOR THEM TO
GET DOWN and ALL OF IT ECHOING THROUGH THE STAIRWELL and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
BOURNE -- he's CLOSING A DOOR behind him -- he's jamming A
CHAIR -- wedging it in tight so the door won't open and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH FLOOR GRAND HALLWAY -- DAY
THE SECURITY CHIEF -- HIS MARINES -- coming from the main
stairs -- weapons drawn -- fighting their way through the
pandemonium and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
BOURNE scanning for options -- the room is huge -- empty
now -- the massive conference table covered with the meeting
papers left behind -- windows along one wall and --
BOURNE rushes to the window staring down and --
BOURNE'S WINDOW POV
Fifty feet below there's a courtyard -- it's a sheer drop --
completely fucked and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH FLOOR GRAND HALLWAY -- DAY
SECURITY CHIEF -- TWO MARINES -- just outside THE CONFERENCE
ROOM DOOR -- trying it -- it won't budge and --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- blow it -- shoot it open! --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
THE DOOR -- shattering -- eaten up by GUNFIRE! -- TAT-TAT-
TAT-TATTAT-TAT-TAT-TAT! and --
WHAM! HERE THEY COME -- through the door -- guns -- eyes --
adrenaline -- everything ready and --
THE ROOM IS EMPTY!
EXT. U.S. CONSULATE BUILDING WALL -- DAY
BOURNE -- dangling fifty-feet above the stone courtyard! --
he's gone out the window! -- hanging there -- hanging with
one hand -- one hand clutching the corner of a ledge and --
INT. U.S. CONSULATE MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
Utter confusion -- SECURITY CHIEF -- FIVE -- SIX -- SEVEN
ARMED MARINES all piling in -- ready to rock but there's no
one to shoot -- no target --
SECURITY CHIEF
-- check the closets! -- get those
back doors covered -- there's a
kitchen back there -- go! -- go! -- go!
TWO MARINES -- scanning the windows -- looking down and --
MARINE POV -- all clear -- no way he went down there and --
EXT. U.S. CONSULATE BUILDING WALL -- DAY
BOURNE still hanging there -- looking down -- up -- there's
no choice -- he has to go down --
BOURNE finding a toehold below him -- reaching -- touching
down -- it gives way -- crumbling and --
BOURNE hesitates. Does he know how to do this or not?
Stalled for a moment, then...
BOURNE starts climbing down. And this is all one shot. No
cutaway. No cheating.
We are watching a master at work...
Handhold to a drain pipe. Swinging to a better ledge.
Dropping to an air-conditioner. Grabbing a window frame
just before the air-conditioner gives way. Teetering there.
Now he's on the fourth floor.
Below, there's an open window on the third floor. Struggling
to keep his balance, he reaches behind him to shift the
weight of the bag, and as he does --
THE RED BAG falls. Thump. Into the courtyard. Forget the
open window. Now he's got to go all the way.
Timing his next move and --
He's pushing off -- reaching -- there's another drainpipe
and he's snagged it -- he's got a dragline now -- starting
to fall -- straining to hold the pipe -- slowing his
descent -- the drainpipe pulling away from it's housing and --
BOURNE letting go -- just before he falls backward -- one
last grab -- catching a gutter -- holding it just long
enough to slow his fall and --
Letting go for the last fifteen feet and --
EXT. U.S. CONSULATE FIFTH FLOOR GRAND HALLWAY -- DAY
A DOZEN MARINES -- pumped-up and listening to --
SECURITY
-- we're gonna go room by room
until we find him -- so let's get
teamed up --
EXT. AN ALLEYWAY NEAR THE U.S. CONSULATE -- DAY
MARIE storming away. Pissed-off -- broke -- illegal --
ruined and --
MARIE
(German)
(Motherfucking sonsofbitches!)
(a new problem--)
A LITTLE RED CAR. A beat-to-shit Euro car. A shitty little
red car angled in beside a dumpster with a big red Zurich
parking ticket on the windshield.
MARIE grabbing the ticket -- tearing it up -- tearing the
shit out of it -- blind with misfortune -- throwing the
pieces on the ground and stomping on them and then --
MARIE
(looking up--)
(What are you looking at?)
BOURNE standing across the car -- on the passenger side --
BOURNE
I need a ride.
MARIE
(What?)
BOURNE
I need a ride out of here.
MARIE
Oh, Jesus...
(backing away and--)
BOURNE
Please. I don't want to scare you.
MARIE
It's a little late for that.
BOURNE
I've got a situation here and --
MARIE
Get the fuck away from my car.
BOURNE
I'll give you ten thousand dollars
to drive me to Paris.
MARIE
Great. You know what? I'll give
you ten gazillion dollars to get
the fuck away from me before I
start screaming my head off.
BOURNE
You don't want the police any more
than I do.
BOURNE tosses cash -- a stack of hundreds -- across the car
into her hands -- she catches it. Looks at it.
MARIE
Jesus...
BOURNE
Get me out of here. Please.
MARIE looking at him. At the money. Back at him, and --
INT. TREADSTONE COMMUNICATIONS DESK -- NIGHT
VIDEO PLAYBACK -- FULL FRAME -- fast forward -- a speeding
blur of images from a surveillance camera outside the Zurich
bank -- it's two days worth of footage -- they're scanning
for Bourne's arrival and --
CONKLIN
go -- keep going -- go...wait --
stop -- you went past it --
COM TECH #1 working the console. Freezing the image.
Punching it up. There it is -- BOURNE leaving the bank with
the red bag.
CONKLIN
(staring at the monitor)
It's him. My God, it's really him...
ZORN the phones across the room. COM TECH #2 at his console --
COM TECH #2
-- we got a cross-ref ready to go
here, sir, we're running hotel,
airline, train, and medical
variables, anything else you'd like?
CONKLIN
No...
(still staring at Bourne)
Go ahead. Run it.
(coming to--)
Let's get a map, let's get a grid
map on Zurich.
ZORN
(holding the phone)
Sir...
CONKLIN up from the console. ZORN waiting for him --
CONKLIN
What?
ZORN
Zurich police are looking for an
American with a red bag. Apparently
he put two cops in the hospital
last night.
Silence. Like the floor just fell away. So heavy.
CONKLIN
What the fuck is he doing?
ZORN
Maybe it's a game. Maybe he's
trying to send us a message.
CONKLIN
It doesn't matter now. We've just
got to be the first ones there.
(decision time)
Get everybody up. I want them all
activated.
ZORN
All of them?
A moment between them. CONKLIN all steel here now.
CONKLIN
You heard me.
COM TECH #2
(from the console--)
Sir, the cross-ref is coming up cold...
CONKLIN breaks away -- back to the console and --
EXT. BARCELONA RESIDENTIAL BOULEVARD -- DAY
Establishing shot. A grand house. PIANO MUSIC over this --
someone butchering a piece by Haydn and --
INT. BARCELONA GRAND HOUSE MUSIC ROOM -- DAY
Meet THE PROFESSOR. He's a piano teacher. Late fifties.
Deceptively fit. He's sitting here, listening to a NINE-
YEAR-OLD STUDENT struggle through the music.
And then, HIS E-PHONE PAGER starts pulsing -- hum -- hum --
INT. HAMBURG CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
A boring, marathon business meeting. FIFTEEN MIDDLE
MANAGERS are trapped around a German sales presentation.
Meet MANHEIM. Bald. Fifty. He looks dumb and piggy.
Anything but. Sitting here --
And then, HIS E-PHONE PAGER starts pulsing -- hum -- hum --
EXT. A ROMAN CAF+ -- DAY
Meet CASTEL. He's thirty-five. Slender. Clean-cut. Easy
to miss. He's here alone. Reading the paper. Sipping
espresso.
And then, HIS E-PHONE PAGER starts pulsing -- hum -- hum --
EXT. A ROAD ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ZURICH -- DAY
The little red car parked. MARIE pacing around. BOURNE
poring over a map spread out opver the hood.
MARIE
So what's in Paris?
BOURNE
I want to go home.
MARIE
For twenty thousand dollars.
BOURNE looks back from the map.
BOURNE
I said ten thousand.
MARIE
You have blood on your pants.
BOURNE
Okay.
(beat)
Twenty thousand. Ten now. Ten there.
MARIE
No. No, that was too easy --
(pacing away--)
BOURNE
Wait up --
(after her now--)
-- just wait up --
MARIE
-- get the fuck out of here -- all
this money, this crazy offer, I
mean give me a fucking break with
this, this is --
(stopping because--)
BOURNE just grabbed her. Both of them shocked that he's
done this. He immediately pulls back.
BOURNE
Look, I want a ride to Paris.
(wide open now)
That's all I want. I swear.
MARIE
You swear?
(cold here)
That's great. I feel so much
better now.
BOURNE
I don't want anything but a ride.
All I want to do is go home.
Silence now. She looks back. Measuring him.
MARIE
You could buy a car for twenty
grand. You could buy this car.
BOURNE
I don't want to go alone. I want
you to drive me to Paris. Like
we're a couple. Like we're a
couple and we're travelling
together. That's all we're doing.
MARIE
And I don't get hurt. I get twenty
thousand dollars and I don't get hurt.
BOURNE
I won't hurt you.
MARIE
What if I say no?
BOURNE
Then I'll find another ride.
EXT. ROME STREET -- DAY
CASTEL through the streets on a motorcycle. Whipping to a
stop -- stepping off the bike in front of --
U-STORE-IT STORAGE WAREHOUSE.
INT. STORAGE WAREHOUSE ELEVATOR -- DAY
CASTEL and THE ELEVATOR OPERATOR -- rising slowly through
the dark warehouse and --
INT. CASTEL'S STORAGE UNIT -- DAY
Darkness -- a key turning -- door opening -- light goes on
to reveal CASTEL standing there and we're in --
CASTEL'S STORAGE UNIT. What's in here? Like nothing. Like
a stack of old newspapers in the corner. Some mildewed
books piled along one wall. Some shitty plastic chairs.
QUICK TIME CUTS
CASTEL working fast. Closing the door. Moving to the pile
of books. Taking the top book off. Opening it.
INSIDE THE BOX -- a timer. A small bomb. A booby-trap.
An LED light stops flashing as CASTEL'S HANDS code in his
password and --
CASTEL moving to the newspapers stacked in the corner.
Pulling away the top pile and --
A METAL LOCK BOX. Hidden here. CASTEL pulling it out.
Opening it. An empty tray on top and --
CASTEL taking off his watch. Taking off his rings. Taking
out his wallet. His Spanish passport. Emptying his pockets.
All of this goes into the empty tray and --
CASTEL lifting away this top tray -- setting it aside and --
THE METAL LOCK BOX -- there's more -- a much larger bottom
compartment -- and it's deja-vu all over again -- we're
looking at the identical contents we saw Bourne find in the
Zurich safe-deposit box.
First of all...
MONEY. Lots of it. Ten thousand dollar stacks of hundreds.
Lots of them. A GUN. A very good gun. A dozen clips of
ammo. And FIVE MORE PASSPORTS. All clean. Brand new. All
with his photo. Five different names. Four different
countries. Each one of these pristine clipped to a piece
of card stock that says:
NAME:
NATIONALITY:
PLACE OF ISSUE:
SIGNATURE SAMPLE:
A BAR CODE:
Two Italian. Two Spanish. A Portuguese.
CASTEL going for the Portuguese passport and --
EXT. ALPS HELICOPTER SHOT -- DAY
The little red car driving through The Alps.
INT. THE RED CAR -- DUSK
BOURNE staring out the window. MARIE driving. Long silence
until --
MARIE
Just so you know, if you're gonna
burn me on the money, you might as
well kill me.
(Bourne looks over)
I was supposed to have this car
back three days ago. It's not my car.
BOURNE
I know that.
MARIE staring at him -- glancing back to the road -- just in
time -- almost rear-ending a slow moving truck --
MARIE
Shit --
(trying to settle)
Can I tell you how much you're
freaking me out? Okay? Because
you are -- you're completely
freaking me out.
BOURNE
I'm sorry. Really. What do you
want me to do?
MARIE
I don't know. Smile. Sneeze.
Something. You've got a bag full
of money and a ride to Paris. Fuck
it, I don't know...
(the radio)
What kind of music do you like?
BOURNE
I don't know.
MARIE
What does that mean?
BOURNE
Listen to what you want.
MARIE
(out of nowhere)
Who pays twenty thousand dollars
for a ride to Paris?
There it is. And she wants an answer --
BOURNE
I don't know. I don't know who I am.
MARIE
Yeah, well, welcome to the club.
BOURNE
No. No, I mean, I really don't
know who I am. I can't remember
anything earlier than two weeks ago.
(it's not flying)
I'm serious.
MARIE
What? Like amnesia?
BOURNE
Look, go ahead...put the radio on...
MARIE
Amnesia?
(total incredulity)
You're saying you don't remember
anything that happened before two
weeks ago?
BOURNE
That's what I'm saying.
MARIE
(German)
(Give me a fucking break.)
BOURNE staring at her. She's furious. She's downshifting --
she's accelerating -- pulling out to pass the truck on a
blind turn, as we --
EXT. ZURICH BANK -- DAY/DUSK
APFEL emerges from the bank. Leaving work. Turns the
corner into a quiet side street and --
Up ahead, here comes another guy in a suit. It's MANHEIM
walking toward us, deep into a cell phone conversation.
Barely noticing Apfel as they get closer and --
As they pass -- MANHEIM -- it's completely out of the
blue -- he's jabbing the cellphone down into Apfel's
shoulder and --
APFEL -- no clue -- already clutching at the coronary
exploding in his chest -- dead before his body hits the
street and --
MANHEIM -- still walking -- he's never broken stride -- and
as he goes he's fiddling with the cellphone and --
INSERT -- THE CELLPHONE -- MANHEIM'S HANDS working to
retract a syringe into the device and --
MANHEIM striding away. Disappearing into Zurich...
INT. PARIS MORGUE -- NIGHT
Not the best morgue in town. Cold tile. A wall of freezers.
Death lighting. Now add some color. Meet NYKWANA WOMBOSI
in the flesh.
Meet HIS ENTOURAGE -- eight or ten of his thirty children --
two of his wives -- three of his bodyguards -- the whole
crew spread out in this horrible basement room. THE WIVES
are chatting. THE KIDS are playing, fighting and eating candy.
THE BODYGUARDS -- three of them here -- are white. These
guys are French/Corsican mercs. Not quite the A-Team. The
guy in charge of this ugly little unit is named DEAUVAGE.
Into it. Too into it.
TWO MORGUE ATTENDANTS hanging back. THE MORGUE BOSS --
who's clearly suffering this for a bribe -- moves to one of
the freezer lockers...
MORGUE BOSS
(French)
(Okay, Monsieur Kane...number 121...)
And he pulls open FREEZER #121. And thank God we can't see
it, because whatever's inside there is clearly horrible.
THE MORGUE BOSS barely takes a glance, standing back as
quickly as possible.
DEAUVAGE -- lead bodyguard -- moves to clear a zone for his
boss --
WOMBOSI
Get the fuck out of my way --
(pushing Deauvage
aside--)
WOMBOSI moves to the freezer box. Stares down. As if it
were nothing. He's seen -- he's made -- much, much worse.
And now he reaches down into the box -- hands on --
literally feeling around this dead, awful corpse with his
bare hands -- feeling around for something -- feeling and
feeling and not finding --
WOMBOSI
(turning to Deauvage--)
It's not him.
DEAUVAGE looking pale as WOMBOSI slams shut the freezer.
WOMBOSI
(quiet hard fury)
So who's crazy now?
EXT. PARIS STREET -- NIGHT
A MINI-MOTORCADE driving towards Neuilly. Two security cars.
A van full of kids and mothers. And one big Mercedes stretch.
INT. THE MERCEDES STRETCH LIMO -- NIGHT
WOMBOSI alone in the back. Looking haunted.
INT. TRUCKSTOP CAF+ -- NIGHT
It's a weird spot. Open all night. But Euro-style. Quiet
tonight. A few Alpen-truckers chowing down. A local or two
at the bar and --
BOURNE AND MARIE at a back table. Drinking coffee. He's
got the red bag open. All the passports -- the personal
junk -- the money -- all the shit from the Zurich bank
box -- he's been showing it to her --
And he's got her attention now.
MARIE
And you have no idea -- not a
clue -- what came before that?
BOURNE
No.
MARIE
When you think of it, before the
ship -- before you wake up on the
ship, what do you see?
BOURNE
Nothing. It's just not there.
MARIE
Well, this is great.
(she sits back)
I'm sick of myself and you have no
idea who you are.
BOURNE
I kept trying things, I thought if
I could find all the things I could
do, I could --
MARIE
-- you could put it together --
BOURNE
-- which was okay for a while, I
was okay with it...
(hesitating now)
But then -- there's all these other
things -- all these other things I
know how to do -- and this -- this
stuff from the bank and...
(suddenly flat out--)
I think something bad happened.
MARIE
What are you talking about?
BOURNE
I don't know.
MARIE
Sounds like you were in an accident
or something.
BOURNE
I was shot twice in the back.
MARIE
Okay, so you're a victim.
BOURNE
There was a gun. Who has a safe
deposit box with a gun and all this
money and all these passports?
MARIE
Lots of people have guns. You're
American. Americans love guns.
BOURNE
I fought my way out of an embassy.
I climbed down a fifty-foot wall --
I went out the window and I was
doing it -- I just did it. I knew
how to do it.
MARIE
People do amazing things when
they're scared.
BOURNE
Why do I? -- I come in here --
instinctively -- first thing I
do -- I'm looking for the exit --
I'm catching the sightlines -- I
know I can't sit with my back to
the door --
MARIE
You're paranoid. You were shot.
It's natural.
She's not listening. He leans in. Flat out now.
BOURNE
I can tell you the license plate
numbers of all three cars out front.
I can tell you that the waitress is
left-handed and the guy at the
counter weighs two-hundred and
fifteen pounds and knows how to
handle himself. I know that the
best, first place to look for a gun
is the cab of that grey truck
outside. I know that at this
altitude I can run flat out for
half a mile before I lose my edge.
I knew that you were my first, best
option out of Zurich? How do I
know all that? How can I know all
that and not know who I am? How is
that possible?
Long dead pause.
MARIE
God, you're not kidding, are you?
INT. TREADSTONE RESEARCH DESK -- DAY
BOURNE'S FACE -- a video image frozen on A COMPUTER
SCREEN -- it's Bourne looking at the camera -- Bourne
looking up at the camera in the consulate passport office
and --
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
HALF A DOZEN COMPUTER MONITORS -- and lots of shots of
Bourne -- twenty angles -- twenty different locations --
twenty candid perspectives of Bourne and his mad scramble
through the consulate --
CONKLIN and RESEARCH TECH #1 poring over these surveillance
tapes downloaded from Zurich --
CONKLIN
And that's the best angle of the
courtyard?
RESEARCH TECH #1
That's the only angle.
CONKLIN
What do they have on the streets?
The area. They must have something.
RESEARCH TECH #1
Hang on...
(typing away--)
CONKLIN rubbing at the tension in his temples as ZORN enters --
CONKLIN
What?
ZORN
Abbott. He knows about the embassy.
He's coming down for a show and tell.
CONKLIN
That'll solve all our problems.
RESEARCH TECH #1
(he's hit paydirt)
Sir...
CONKLIN
(turning back--)
What's that?
RESEARCH TECH #1
It's an angle of the street -- some
sort of alleyway -- you can just...
CONKLIN
Enhance it.
INSERT -- THE MONITOR -- as the image enlarges to fill the
screen. And there's Bourne. And the little red car. And
Marie.
CONKLIN (OS)
Who the hell is that?
EXT. ZURICH AIRPORT HOTEL -- NIGHT
A drone barn. Practically on the runway.
INT. ZURICH AIRPORT HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT
One of those rooms. Just a plain functional box. MANHEIM
laying on the bed. Fully dressed. Suit and tie. Just
laying there, staring at the ceiling. Who knows how long
he's been like this.
Just waiting.
ON THE NIGHTSTAND -- A gun. A knife. His e-phone pager.
His fresh credentials. And a photo of Jason Bourne.
INT. WOMBOSI'S PARIS COMPOUND -- NIGHT
Quick orientation: Picture a heavily-walled palace just
off the Bois Du Boulogne. But once inside you could be back
in Brazzaville. It's just a buffet of oddness. Home to
fifty children and nine wives. The decor blends money and
nouveau riche materialism with a hard, back-home tribal
esthetic. It's a visual treat. Not condescending or stupid,
but flat-out strange and menacing.
It's late. And the palace is dark and sleepy now, but carry
all that through this next series of quick shots --
WOMBOSI HOUSE SECURITY STATION
Just inside the door. BODYGUARD #1 slouched before a bank
of SECURITY MONITORS.
WOMBOSI MAIN HALLWAY
Littered with toys. Children's crap everywhere. BODYGUARD
#3. Snoozing on a Louis Quatorze chair draped with African
cloth.
WOMBOSI THRONE ROOM DOORS
DEAUVAGE -- head bodyguard -- posted outside this imposing
set of doors. He's trying to stay awake. Reading a spy
thriller.
FINALLY TO
WOMBOSI'S THRONE ROOM
And there he is -- the emperor himself -- WOMBOSI on his
throne. Except the room is dark and empty. And he's
sitting there by himself. A king without a country.
Sitting there. With a gun in his lap. Drinking hard from a
bottle of Jack Daniels.
Stewing.
EXT. FRENCH ROADSIDE -- DAWN
Beautiful morning. The red car parked along the road.
BOURNE alone in the passenger seat. Deep asleep. Nestled
there.
And then, he wakes suddenly. Starts. Freaked for a moment.
Instantly feeling for the red bag. There it is in his lap.
He looks around and --
MARIE sitting away from the car. She's got a loaf of bread.
A soda. Smoking a butt. Same clothes, but her make-up's
been washed away. Clean. Simple. Gorgeous.
BOURNE steps out. Morning legs.
MARIE
I needed a break.
BOURNE
Where are we?
MARIE
We're about an hour away.
BOURNE
I can't believe I slept.
MARIE
You were tired. Here...
(bread and soda--)
For twenty-thousand I like to throw
in breakfast.
(he takes it)
So what do you dream about?
BOURNE
I dream I'm asleep. I dream that
I'm asleep and I can't wake up.
(he takes a hit from
her smoke and
coughs--)
I don't think I smoke.
Another silence. She's watching him.
MARIE
You ever think maybe you have a family?
BOURNE
I thought about it. I don't know.
She looks away. Was she hoping for another answer?
MARIE
I guess it's like Christmas every
day for you, huh?
INT. TREADSTONE CONKLIN'S OFFICE -- DAY
MARIE'S FACE -- A PASSPORT PHOTO -- she's eighteen -- she's
smiling -- really alive and fresh and --
CONKLIN behind his desk. ABBOTT staring grimly at the
picture --
ABBOTT
Who is she?
ZORN
Marie Helene Kreutz. She's twenty-
six. Born outside Munich. Father
was a welder. He died in '91. We
don't have the mother. There might
be a step-sister, we're trying to
track that down.
(apologetic)
It's tough. She's a wanderer. She
pops up on the grid here and there
but...I mean, the last time she
paid an electric bill in Europe was
'94. No taxes. No steady employer.
She's got three arrests. Two
shoplifting cases, one in Spain,
one in Germany. And she actually
did three months in an Italian
detention center for credit card fraud.
ABBOTT
No political affiliations?
CONKLIN
She's a gypsy. If it's a cover,
it's a great one.
ABBOTT
I'm assuming we're exploring that
possibility.
CONKLIN
We're exploring every possibility.
(tighter by the moment)
We are in pursuit. How much more
do you want me to tell you?
ABBOTT
Pursuit would indicate that you
know exactly where he is.
CONKLIN
No. Pursuit ends when we know
exactly where he is.
ABBOTT
Yes, well, I think we need some
fresh eyes on this problem. I'm
bringing in some people from upstairs.
CONKLIN hesitates. Inside he's screaming.
CONKLIN
We've been down here for two weeks
banging our heads against the wall.
We've been sleeping down here. We
just got our first lead fourteen
hours ago, and now? -- now that we
finally have something to work
with -- you want to bring planning
personnel down here?
(real steam)
I'd rethink that.
ABBOTT
I want a second opinion.
CONKLIN
This is an operations desk.
ABBOTT
I'm not asking.
EXT. PARIS STREET NEAR BOURNE'S APARTMENT -- DAY
THE LITTLE RED CAR cruising through town.
INT. THE LITTLE RED CAR -- DAY
MARIE driving. BOURNE checking building numbers as they
pass --
BOURNE
Slow down. No, don't stop. Just...
MARIE
(looking over)
That's it? Is that it?
AN APARTMENT BUILDING. Big building. Elegant but cold.
BOURNE
Four-fifty. That's the address...
MARIE
Looks familiar?
BOURNE
No.
(staring back as they
pass--)
No. Go around. Keep going...
MARIE pulling up -- turning a corner -- watching him as she
does. But he's pre-occupied -- eyes scanning -- taking it
all in --
MARIE
Where?
BOURNE
Yeah. Pull in here. Park it.
MARIE angles into an alleyway. Cuts the engine.
MARIE
So this is it, right?
BOURNE
I guess.
Dead pause. She's waiting. He's still scanning the street.
MARIE
I should go.
BOURNE
I don't remember any of this.
MARIE
Jason...
He turns back. She's staring at him.
BOURNE
Sorry. The money, right?
Before she can say anything, he's digging in the backpack.
He pulls out another stack of hundreds. Hands it over. She
takes it. It's not what she wanted, but she's used to being
disappointed. Fighting it.
MARIE
Okay, so...
BOURNE
Thanks for the ride.
MARIE
Anytime.
Silence. That moment. He focuses. Getting it.
BOURNE
Look, I don't know what's up there.
MARIE
You got me pretty fucking curious.
BOURNE
Look, you could come up. Or you
could wait if you want. I could go
check it out. You could wait.
MARIE
Nah...
(hide the pain)
With you, I mean, you'd probably
just forget about me, right?
BOURNE
How could I forget about you?
(he smiles)
You're the only person I know.
MARIE smiles. We've never seen it before. Worth waiting for.
INT. PARIS APARTMENT BUILDING FOYER -- NIGHT
BOURNE and MARIE standing at the directory. Five apartments.
One per floor. Five names. A buzzer. An intercom. There
it is.
J. Bourne.
BOURNE presses the buzzer. After a moment, he presses again.
Nothing.
MARIE
I guess you're not home.
BOURNE checking the door. How to pop it open? Just about
to get into it, when --
CONCIERGE (OS)
(from the shadows
inside--)
(Monsieur Bourne...I'm coming...)
THE CONCIERGE is sixty. Plump and proper.
CONCIERGE
(opening the door--)
(Mr. Bourne, there you are -- I was
wondering -- I haven't seen you --)
BOURNE
(Here I am.)
THE CONCIERGE looking at BOURNE like maybe she's never seen
him look like this before. And she's looking at MARIE like
here's the reason her tenant looks like such shit.
BOURNE
(he tries a smile)
(I seem to have lost my key.)
THE CONCIERGE nods. Instant chilly disapproval.
CONCIERGE
(I've been ringing your bell. It's
good you were away. We had some
trouble with the hot water. It's
been repaired.)
BOURNE
(Great. We could use a shower.)
(they look like
shit--)
(It was a long drive.)
THE CONCIERGE steps aside and --
INT. PARIS APARTMENT FIFTH FLOOR LANDING -- DAY
BOURNE and MARIE at the apartment threshold. He has a key now.
Turning it. And the door opens...
Nothing...
No bombs. No wife and kids. No one.
INT. PARIS APARTMENT -- DAY
A huge, rambling flat. Large entry hallway. Large rooms
beyond that. It's obviously expensive. But cold.
Completely impersonal. No photographs. No mementoes. No
human history.
WE'RE MOVING NOW
THE LIVING ROOM
BOURNE and MARIE exploring.
MARIE
It's big.
BOURNE silent. Struggling to get a feel for the place.
MARIE (CONT'D)
This is like a real apartment.
(she likes it)
This is really yours?
BOURNE
I guess so.
MARIE taking it in fast. BOURNE seems paralyzed. Trying to
soak it all in. Willing himself home. Touching things as
he passes. As if a texture, a smell -- something will
become familiar. He's deep into this as we go to --
THE BEDROOM
MARIE in the doorway. Checking it out. It's so clean and
simple. But it's not the decor she's most interested in...
MARIE opening an armoire...
Nothing but men's clothes. No competition. She's feeling
better by the moment as we go to --
THE KITCHEN
Like a stage set. Lots of props and no sign of food.
BOURNE picking up a frying pan.
BOURNE
This is my frying pan.
(and then--)
This is my spoon.
(trying harder)
I'm Jason Bourne and this is my
kitchen.
THE MASTER BATHROOM
MARIE still on the prowl. Mirror city. Big tub. One
toothbrush.
AN OFFICE STUDY
There's a desk. Chair. Phone. Basic. BOURNE with a
folder in his hand. Staring at the bookshelves. Binders,
reference materials and hardbound volumes -- all of it about
maritime law. Ship schedules. Registry catalogs. All
about boats.
MARIE
This is your office?
(from the doorway)
God, you live like a monk...
BOURNE
All this stuff -- it's all about
boats.
(looking up)
I think I'm in the shipping business.
MARIE
See. It's starting to come back,
yeah?
(he sort of nods)
You mind if I take a bath?
BOURNE
Go ahead.
MARIE backs out. BOURNE alone again. Standing there for a
moment. Dealing with it.
And then he sits down in a chair.
BOURNE sitting there. Staring. The room, the desk -- it's
all so devoid of personality. And then, something catches
his eye and --
INSERT -- THE DESK TOP -- a faint silhouette through the
dust and grime. Outlines of where a computer used to sit.
BOURNE reaching suddenly under the desk. Bingo. Pulling
out a retractable computer keyboard tray. But it's empty.
No keyboard. Now he's really confused and --
INSERT -- A PHONE/ANSWERING MACHINE -- BOURNE pressing the
playback button and --
PHONE MACHINE
"You have no messages."
BOURNE leaving that for a moment -- about to anyway -- and
then he turns back -- new idea -- pressing for the speaker
phone -- and then hitting redial and --
THE PHONE stars dialing...
RINGING and...
OPERATOR/PHONE
Bonjour, Hotel Marboeuf...
BOURNE quick grabbing the receiver. Taking it off
speakerphone and --
BOURNE
...yes -- oui -- uh...
OPERATOR/PHONE
(Yes, sir. Hotel Marboeuf, Paris.
How can I direct your call?)
BOURNE
Paris?
OPERATOR/PHONE
Yes, sir...
(switching to English,
thinking that's his
problem--)
How can I help you?
BOURNE
Yes, I'm...I'm looking for Mr.
Jason Bourne.
OPERATOR/PHONE
One moment, please...
(a long pause, and
then--)
I'm afraid, I have no one by that
name registered, sir.
BOURNE
D'accord... Merci.
(about to hang up--)
Un moment -- un moment --
OPERATOR/PHONE
-- sir? --
BOURNE
-- hang on -- I need you to check
another name for me -- hang on --
un moment, s'il vous plait --
BOURNE grabbing the backpack -- tearing through it -- where
is it? -- where is it? -- shit and money falling out and --
There it is -- from the safe-deposit box -- that piece of
card stock -- the one with no passport attached to it --
BOURNE (CONT'D)
(reading it)
Kane. Do you have Mr. John Michael
Kane?
OPERATOR/PHONE
One moment, sir.
BOURNE waiting. And then there's muzak -- holding music and --
THE MASTER BATHROOM
Water running in the tub. MARIE pulling off her boots.
Checking the temperature.
THE OFFICE STUDY
Bourne still on hold. And then --
MANAGER/PHONE
(a new voice suddenly)
Bonjour? Monsieur? Allo...
BOURNE
Yes, I'm here...
MANAGER/PHONE
You call about Monsieur Kane? John
Michael Kane?
BOURNE
Yes. Is he there?
MANAGER/PHONE
You are a friend of his?
BOURNE
Yes.
MANAGER/PHONE
I have some very bad news for you,
sir. I'm terrible sorry to have to
tell you this, but Monsieur Kane
has passed away almost two weeks ago...
Silence. BOURNE is rocked. But the Manager, it's natural,
he interprets the silence as grief...
MANAGER/PHONE
There was an accident. On the
motorway. Apparently, he was
killed instantly. Really, I'm
terrible sorry to be the one to
tell you this...
BOURNE
...I understand...
MANAGER/PHONE
...we actually, we were unaware for
several days that this had happened.
When they came for his things, it
was made known for us, you see?
BOURNE
Who? Who came?
MANAGER/PHONE
His brother. You know his brother?
BOURNE
Right. Yes. Of course.
MANAGER/PHONE
It's very bad this. Terrible sad.
Such a young man.
BOURNE
Do you -- his brother -- do you
have a phone number?
MANAGER/PHONE
I think not...
(quick French to
someone in the office
there--)
No, I'm sorry. It was very sudden.
He was here very briefly.
BOURNE just hands up the phone. Just like that. Not even
goodbye. Standing there frozen. Stunned. John Michael
Kane is dead. And he had the passport.
Suddenly, everything's changed. They shouldn't be here.
This is bad. Danger.
THE MASTER BATHROOM
MARIE playing with her hair in the mirror. Checking the
water --
MARIE
(calling out to him--)
She wasn't kidding about the water.
It's freezing.
THE OFFICE
BOURNE frozen there. On alert. He forces a smile. Decoy mood.
BOURNE
Hang on. I'll check the kitchen...
(moving out of the
office--)
Maybe it takes a while to get all
the way upstairs.
THE KITCHEN
BOURNE moving to the sink. He's smiling. Upbeat. But it's
an act. His eyes are everywhere. Turning on the water.
But ignoring it. What he's really doing is searching out a
weapon. Pulling A KNIFE very quietly from behind the stove.
Holding it. Feels pretty comfortable. Hiding it down by
his side. On the move again, now --
BOURNE
Yeah, it's cold in here, too...
(calling to her as he
goes--)
Let's give it another minute.
BOURNE like we've ever seen him. Like an animal. Every
sound -- every breeze -- everything carries information.
Standing still. Taking it all in.
Real quick layout -- there's big windows along one wall that
face out to the street below. The hallway to the bedroom
and bath feeds into the living room from one side. There is
a large frosted airshaft window along that hallway wall.
Simple furniture.
MARIE
(suddenly--)
-- omigod! --
(she's behind him--)
-- what're you? -- no -- no --
MARIE backing away -- completely freaked -- BOURNE standing
there with the knife in his hand and --
BOURNE
-- no -- Marie -- no! -- it's not
like that --
MARIE
-- please -- Jason -- omigod --
BOURNE
-- quiet -- quiet --
MARIE -- frightened -- confused -- paralyzed for a moment --
BOURNE glancing back -- a curtain fluttering behind him --
motioning for MARIE to get down -- do it -- now -- down!
MARIE hesitating and --
BOURNE -- what's he doing? -- he's unscrewing a lightbulb
from a lamp beside him and --
MARIE about to say something -- he shakes her off --
BOURNE -- knife in one hand -- lightbulb in the other --
putting his foot on a chair in front of him and --
MARIE
...what are you doing?...
BOURNE waving her to shut up -- crawl -- now -- back up --
get under the window -- go! --
MARIE -- he seems so sure -- it's weird, but she's doing
it -- she's under that frosted window -- down below the
sill -- looking back -- what the fuck is he doing now? --
BOURNE -- the lightbulb -- he's tossing it across the
room -- over her head -- into that frosted window and --
As she ducks down --
As it SHATTERS --
EVERYTHING STARTS HAPPENING AT ONCE
PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT! -- silenced automatic
weapons fire -- raking into the apartment and --
THE FROSTED WINDOW peppered with holes and --
MARIE on the floor as THE WINDOW SHATTERS above her and --
CASTEL -- he's in the airshaft! -- hanging from an abseil
rope -- but off guard -- FIRING BLIND -- strafing the
apartment and --
BOURNE kicking that chair across the room and --
CASTEL reacting -- instinct -- moving target --
THE CHAIR just strafed to shit and --
BOURNE rolling away and --
CASTEL -- he's coming in -- last pieces of window frame
CRASHING AWAY as he swings into the apartment and --
MARIE -- right below him -- shit raining down as he flies in
and --
BOURNE throwing the knife and --
CASTEL -- turning -- too late -- the knife catching him in
the neck and --
BOURNE -- in motion -- attacking and --
CASTEL -- knife impaled in his neck -- clawing for it with
one hand -- trying to get off a shot and --
APARTMENT WALL -- PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT!-PHFT! -- gunfire
tearing wildly around the room and --
BOURNE -- full-stop -- kicking the gun -- kicking it up --
ROUNDS TEARING ACROSS THE CEILING and --
MARIE -- SCREAMING NOW -- trying to crawl away and --
CASTEL -- no chance -- off balance -- BOURNE -- his open
palm driving up into CASTEL'S JAW -- the body wants to fall
backward, but BOURNE has the guy's arm in his free hand --
jerking it like rope -- tearing it from it's socket and --
THE GUN CLATTERING FREE across the floor and --
BOURNE -- his knee -- like a piston -- hard into CASTEL'S
GUT -- and then down -- his foot -- down into CASTEL'S KNEE,
shattering it and --
CASTEL is on the floor -- stunned -- wiped -- knife pouring
blood from his neck -- arm hanging like a rag doll -- bone
torn through his pant leg above the knee and --
MARIE
omigod -- omigod -- what're you
doing? -- what're you doing? --
(incoherent fear and
confusion, German and
English and--)
-- what is he? -- what've you? --
omigod -- what is this? --
BOURNE ignoring her -- grabbing the guy's backpack --
MARIE (CONT'D)
-- what're you doing? -- Jason,
please, tell me what's happening!
BOURNE
Open it --
(tossing Castel's
backpack behind him--)
-- do it -- what's he got in there?
CASTEL -- eyes wild -- tries to make his feet --
BOURNE (CONT'D)
Who are you?
(kicking him down--)
-- who are you?
CASTEL -- crablike against a wall -- bloody hands leaving a
mess as he struggles to get to his feet --
BOURNE
-- who are you? -- tell me who you
are -- who sent you? --
(bearing down)
-- what is this about? -- YOU'VE
GOT TO TELL ME WHAT THIS IS ABOUT! --
CASTEL -- staring back -- eyes wild -- mouth shut -- his
expression -- is it terror or pure steel? --
BOURNE (CONT'D)
WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?
MARIE
(suddenly from behind)
...omigod, no...
MARIE -- the guy's backpack -- something in her hand -- and
as freaked out as she was a moment ago -- this is worse --
BOURNE
What? -- what? --
(attention split--)
-- what is it?
MARIE
...this is my picture... he's got
my picture --
(holding it up, in
horror--)
-- this is me -- this is Zurich --
this...this...this is yesterday --
BOURNE
-- just --
MARIE
-- where does this come from? --
(to Castel)
How do you have my picture?
BOURNE
Marie, just --
(waving her back--)
-- just stay there! -- just --
MARIE
-- he's got my picture! -- this is
yesterday! -- this is me! --
(out of control now--)
-- where did you get my picture? --
BOURNE
-- let me do this, okay? --
MARIE
-- do what? -- what are you
doing? -- he's got my picture --
(just apoplectic--)
-- he's -- my God -- look at him --
he's bleeding to death -- my
picture -- look! -- he was trying
to kill us! -- omigod --
Now there's KNOCKING AT THE DOOR and --
THE CONCIERGE
(muffled but urgent)
(Mister Bourne! Mister Bourne!
What's going on? Is everything all
right in there? --)
(and she keeps
banging and--)
MARIE is past the point of rationality and CASTEL is
bleeding and shaking and BOURNE is trying to think and it's
just impossible and --
Suddenly -- CASTEL is moving! -- and fast -- it's
superhuman -- unbelievable -- just enough spring in his good
leg and --
BOURNE bracing himself but --
CASTEL isn't attacking! -- he's running away -- he's
crossing the living room -- but there's nowhere to go --
absolutely nowhere -- except --
THE WINDOW
CASTEL hurling himself into the glass and --
EXT. THE PARIS APARTMENT BUILDING -- DAY
WINDOW SHATTERING! -- CASTEL -- in a cloud of broken
glass -- sixty feet above the street --
Falling and falling and...
IMPACT! -- landing on the roof of a parked car and --
INT. THE PARIS APARTMENT -- DAY
THE APARTMENT -- BOURNE in motion -- five things at once --
checking the window -- kicking the gun away -- grabbing the
red bag -- grabbing what he can -- no time to spare and --
THE CONCIERGE
(still outside the
door--)
(--I'm calling the police, Mr.
Bourne -- you give me no choice --
I'm calling them right away! --)
BOURNE
-- your shoes -- Marie! -- where? --
where are your shoes? -- Marie --
MARIE standing there in utter shock -- paralyzed -- the
picture in her hand -- the broken glass -- all of what just
happened --
MARIE
He's dead isn't he?
BOURNE
Marie -- look at me -- there's no
time for this --
MARIE
He went out the window -- why? --
why would someone do that?
BOURNE
-- we can't stay here -- I can't
stay here -- it's not safe here --
MARIE
He came to kill us.
BOURNE
-- we can go -- I can get us out of
here -- but we have to go now --
MARIE
You knew he was coming.
BOURNE
No.
MARIE
I trusted you.
BOURNE
You're wrong. I didn't know.
MARIE
I don't trust anybody and I trusted
you!
BOURNE
I didn't know this would happen.
MARIE
He had my picture! He knew I was
here! He came here to kill us!
BOURNE
And where is he now?
(that gets her quiet)
You believe what you want, but I'm
telling you the truth -- I never
would have brought you here if I
thought it was dangerous.
MARIE
(totally overwhelmed)
Oh, Jesus...
BOURNE
You stay -- if you want, you
stay -- it's okay -- it's better --
maybe it's better -- I don't
know --
(starting to back
away--)
But I can't stay here. I can't.
MARIE
But the police --
BOURNE
-- there's no time --
MARIE
-- we'll explain it --
BOURNE
-- how? --
MARIE
-- there's two of us -- we'll tell
them -- we'll just --
BOURNE
-- forget it --
MARIE
-- we'll tell them what happened --
BOURNE
I don't know what happened!
(huge here)
I don't know who he is! I don't
know what he wants! I don't even
know who I am! The only thing I
know is that if I stay here, I'm
never gonna find out!
BOURNE -- that's it -- grabbing the backpack -- pulling it
on -- just about to make his move --
She's standing there. Just utterly swamped. Lost.
BOURNE (CONT'D)
Come with me.
(she turns back, he's
waiting--)
I can get us out of here. I know
it. Then we can think. Then we
can work it out. We'll explain it
then. Once we're safe.
(rock solid)
I can protect you.
EXT. THE PARIS APARTMENT BUILDING -- DAY
A CROWD is gathered around CASTEL'S BODY. Rubberneckers and
people pointing up to the broken window -- THE CONCIERGE
running out to the street and getting the news and THE SOUND
OF SIRENS bleeding in from the distance and --
THE CAMERA PULLS BACK TO FIND
THE LITTLE RED CAR pulling out of the alley. Turning away
from the scene. Disappearing into the streets of Paris --
INT. WOMBOSI COMPOUND MAIN HALLWAY -- DAY
THRONE ROOM DOORS flying open -- WOMBOSI exploding out into
the hallway --
WOMBOSI
-- No! -- I say, no! -- they go
this far -- out a body in the
grave -- another body! -- no! --
this isn't over -- these people are
not finished -- nothing will make
them finish until they have
Wombosi! -- the real Wombosi --
until I'm the one in the box! --
SIX KIDS -- TWO WIVES -- THREE BODYGUARDS -- all startled by
this steamrolling mass of energy and paranoia --
WOMBOSI
-- what are you doing? --
(bearing down on
Bodyguard #2--)
-- sleeping? --
(to Deauvage--)
-- he's sleeping! -- this man is
sleeping at his post! --
(kicking the chair
out from under him--)
-- I've had men killed for this! --
(but he's still
moving--)
-- you think these people? -- these
people who come for me -- you think
they sleep? -- they never sleep! --
they spend all the day -- all the
night -- all time thinking about
how to put Wombosi in that box! --
(he's just gonna keep
going, and we're
into--)
A MASSIVE ONE-TAKE TRACKING SHOT
DEAUVAGE on his feet -- racing to follow -- KIDS scattering
out of the way -- THE WIVES completely unfazed and --
WOMBOSI
-- there is no box for Wombosi! --
they don't have a box that can hold
me! -- I know these people -- I
know they never sleep! -- I know
they never stop! -- they never stop
until the knife is at their
throat! --
(suddenly distracted--)
-- what is the window? -- this
window is open! -- who leaves this
open! --
(before Deauvage can
possibly respond--)
-- this is a war, you fool! -- you
think these people are like you? --
you think this is stupid people? --
careless people? -- these people
see an open window, they reach in
with a big hand and grab your heart
until you die! --
(still rolling as--)
WE'RE HEADING DOWN TO THE POOL
WOMBOSI
-- and it won't just be me! -- they
don't just want Wombosi now! --
they want my babies -- they want my
children! -- and I say no! --
(grabbing Deauvage--)
-- you leave that window open again,
you better pray they kill me --
(something's caught
his ear in the
distance and now he's
trying to get there--)
-- everything changes here now! --
everyone is a soldier here now! --
this is a fortress now! Are we
clear with this?
DEAUVAGE
Yes, sir. All clear.
WOMBOSI stops to look at DEAUVAGE. In the background, we
can hear A CHILD CRYING by the pool --
WOMBOSI
This man is out there. Kane is out
there. And they pretend he's dead.
That means he's coming back.
WOMBOSI moving quickly now and WE'RE STILL TRACKING --
taking him into --
THE POOL AREA
FORTY KIDS going nuts in the water. ONE KID crying.
WOMBOSI like a shot -- picking the kid up -- drying his
tears -- making a funny face -- getting a smile as --
INT. GARE DU NORD -- DAY
BOURNE and MARIE stash the red bag in a locker.
INT. CIA PSYCHOACOUSTICS LAB -- DAY
AN ELECTRONICS CONSOLE. Super-tech. Meters -- LEDs --
wave-form analyzers -- audio spectrum filters -- all of this
gear dancing and responding to every nuance of --
BOURNE'S VOICE -- OVER SPEAKERS -- we're listening to a
recording of the call he made from the apartment to the
Hotel Marbeouf Paris --
BOURNE/TAPE
"Okay. Merci."
(pause)
"Un moment -- un moment --"
OPERATOR/TAPE
"-- sir? --"
BOURNE/TAPE
"-- hang on -- I need you to check
another name for me -- hang on --
un moment, s'il vous plait --"
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
A secret studio buried deep in the Langley facility.
Equipment up the ass. Five people in this darkened room: AN
ENGINEER working the board. CONKLIN looking sour. ZORN in
the shadows. ABBOTT sitting there waiting for analysis from --
MRS. DOYLE. She's late sixties. A long-time spy shrink.
An eminence. A diamond-hard, seen-it-all intelligence.
BOURNE/TAPE
"Kane. John Michael Kane."
OPERATOR/TAPE
"One moment, sir."
MRS. DOYLE nods to THE ENGINEER. She's heard enough.
MRS. DOYLE
He's not lying. He's very highly
stressed, but he's not lying. He's
confused. He's aggressively
searching for a way out of the
chaos. This conversation, the
video from the consulate -- the
body language, vocal pattern --
it's my sense he's really lost here.
(beat)
I think he snapped.
CONKLIN
Is that a medical term?
She turns. Battle lines drawn.
MRS. DOYLE
You want clinical terminology?
It's called, "conversation
hysteria."
(to Abbott now--)
I don't know exactly how you train
these people. I'm not sure I want
to know. I'll take a guess there's
some extremely rigorous behavior
modification going on here.
Silence. The idea dangling for a moment.
ABBOTT
Let's assume that's true.
MRS. DOYLE
You can only wind people so tight.
Even machines break down.
CONKLIN
This unit has an unblemished record
of success.
MRS. DOYLE
Then I guess I'm in the wrong meeting.
EXT. BELLVILLE CAR PARK -- DUSK
BOURNE and MARIE stashing the red car.
INT. CIA HALLWAY UPSTAIRS HALLWAY -- DAY
ABBOTT and CONKLIN walk and talk. They want to get loud,
but they can't. Too many people passing by --
CONKLIN
That was two hours -- two hours to
get a second opinion -- and nothing
changes. He's loose. He's out of
control. It's very clear what
needs to happen.
(point blank)
I have work to do.
ABBOTT
What if he is working for someone
else? What if he turned?
CONKLIN
Turn? To who? Where does he turn?
What does he have to offer? He's
got nothing. He's a killer. He's
a piece of equipment for crissake.
Where's he gonna turn?
EXT. HOTEL DE LA PRIX -- NIGHT
Funky. Out of the way. Cash and carry. No-questions-asked
kind of flop. Our establishing shot somehow includes THE
PROPRIETOR and HIS DOG.
INT. THE HOTEL ROOM BATHROOM -- NIGHT
HAIR DYE washing down a rusted drain. It's MARIE alone in
this crappy little bathroom. Jeans and bra. All of it
soaking wet.
A new hair color.
A MIRROR. There she is. Her turn to stare at herself and
wonder.
And then she smells something. Smoke...
INT. THE HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT
It's a shitty little room. BOURNE sitting on the bed. And
the smoke is coming from...
HIS PASSPORT -- the Jason Bourne passport -- on fire.
BOURNE holding it as it burns away. Bourne's face --
melting -- bubbling -- finally disappearing, -- BOURNE
letting go just before it burns his fingers and --
BOURNE sits back. And there's MARIE standing there. And
she's holding out her passport --
He looks at her. Big moment.
BOURNE
No.
(he won't do it)
You know who you are. You know
what that's worth? That's
everything.
(pause)
I can't live like this. I can't do
anything until I know who I am.
Believe me, you don't want what I have.
He looks away. Silence. And then, she touches him. His
shoulder.
BOURNE almost recoils. Almost. He doesn't know what to do.
Doesn't know how to react.
MARIE in front of him now -- she's taking his hand -- and he
hesitates -- looking at her -- is this happening? -- she's
taking his hand -- moving it down her body -- staring at
him -- both of them silent -- his hand -- her skin -- his
mind racing -- he wants this -- wants it in every way -- but
it's overwhelming -- when was the last time something like
this happened? -- he can't remember -- he doesn't care --
he's pulling her toward him -- and they're kissing -- and
you know the rest...
INT. CDG AIRPORT -- NIGHT
THE PROFESSOR arriving in Paris. Coming through the
terminal as his pager goes off -- never even stopping as he
reads and --
...................................................
HOTEL SEQUENCE -- SKETCHED ONLY
HOTEL MARBOEUF PARIS. This is the place that answered the
phone when Bourne hit redial in his apartment. This is the
place that John Michael Kane was staying when he "died."
And so begins, the investigation...
Now, since the presence of danger -- ie Wombosi's guys
and/or Treadstone -- is still up in the air, and since this
scene could either play very quickly or very long, and since
we're not exactly sure where we stand with page count --
this scene is not finished.
The rules of the scene, however, seem to be thus: Bourne
would have to be very nervous about being recognized. If he
was Kane and Kane stayed here, he's not the guy to do
whatever "social engineering" needs doing.
Long version? Bourne sets the table and Marie gets the
goods. Somehow there's a threat from Treadstone or Wombosi.
Fast version? It's all results -- we see them execute a
plan rather than work it up. MARIE is already in the hotel.
In a hotel uniform? Posing as a guest? In any case, she
looks very much different than we've ever seen her before.
She gets close to the office. Hides. Waits. BOURNE calls
the desk from a pay phone. Asks for something. We see that
some sort of improvised booby-trap has been set inside the
hotel to start a fire. In the confusion -- MARIE -- very
bravely -- gets into the office. We do a quick cut outside
to Bourne waiting and --
...................................................
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE THE HOTEL MARBOEUF -- DAY
Walk and talk. BOURNE and MARIE leaving the hotel fast.
He's on alert -- always on alert now -- making sure they're
not being watched. And she's excited and pumped -- she did
it! -- she's got the hotel record in hand --
MARIE
You stayed there five times in the
past six months. But I didn't have
time -- I could only get the bill
from the last stay -- you were
there for two days. Some room
service -- there's half a dozen
phone calls here so that's someth--
BOURNE
(cutting her off)
Who paid the bill?
MARIE
It's a company... MPG Capital.
INT. AN EMPTY OFFICE SUITE -- DAY
Vacancy wasteland. Dead phone lines hanging. Carpet pulled
up. Completely stripped out. BOURNE and MARIE standing
there staring.
MARIE
This can't be it.
She turns around -- and what's he doing? -- BOURNE with a
piece of paper and pencil -- or something/anything
resourceful and handy -- maybe it's carpet lint -- maybe
it's breaking the glass on the door and holding it up to the
light -- or a rubbing -- anyway, he's doing something
ingenious with the glass door --
And as he's doing this, we're hearing --
TELEPHONE VOICE (OVER)
(British, female)
Destin Navigational, can I help you?
BOURNE'S VOICE (OVER)
Hey, how are you. I'm trying to
reach Richard? Is he there.
We're watching the MPG LOGO emerge and seeing BOURNE and
MARIE react, as we hear --
TELEPHONE VOICE (OVER)
I'm afraid there's no Richard here.
(continuing into--)
INT./EXT. SHITBAG PARISIAN PHONE BOOTH -- NIGHT
BOURNE on the pay phone. MARIE behind him at the bar. He's
got a pad and paper. This is all business.
BOURNE
Well, where are you? Where am I
calling?
TELEPHONE VOICE (OVER)
This is an answering service, sir.
The company's located in Southampton,
but--
BOURNE
-- this is a tire dealership, right?
TELEPHONE VOICE (OVER)
No sir, this is a navigational
chart registry. I'm afraid you
have the wrong number.
Dial tone. BOURNE making a note. And as he does --
TIME CUT -- one minute later -- call number two --
NEW VOICE (OVER)
(French, male, hassled)