THE FIRST CASUALTY

 

                                      By

 

                                 Wayne Mathias

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                       FADE IN:

 

              INT. CAVE - NIGHT

 

              In the dark, two Spanish Soldiers in rain ponchos carry

              between them a small but heavy crate with rope handles.

 

              Their boots SPLASH in puddles as they pass through the

              doorway of a weathered steel vault.

 

              As they approach the cave's mouth, RAINFALL grows louder.

 

              Behind them, another pair of wet, weary Soldiers carry out an

              identical crate.

 

              EXT. HILLSIDE - NIGHT

 

              SUPER: "CARTAGENA, SPAIN - OCTOBER 1936"

 

              In pouring rain, dozens of Soldiers haul crates from the cave

              like a trail of ants.

 

              COLONEL HIDALGO (40s), a Gentleman-Officer of the Old School,

              watches them load the boxes onto several trucks.  He smokes

              a cigarette, until a raindrop puts it out with a SIZZLE.

 

              He sighs and tosses away the wet cig.

 

              Next to him, KOZLOV (40s), a tall, gaunt Russian in a navy

              slicker, sees the Soldiers climb into the loaded trucks.

 

              All the truck engines START as the last two Soldiers emerge

              from the cave empty-handed.

 

                                  HIDALGO

                               (in Spanish)

                        [That's all of it?]

 

              The two men nod in unison.

 

                                  HIDALGO

                               (continuing)

                        [Good.  Let's move out!]

 

              They salute with upraised fists.

 

              The two Soldiers climb in the back of the last truck.

 

              Slowly the convoy SLOSHES away down the muddy hill.

 

              EXT. CARTAGENA NAVAL BASE - NIGHT

 

              On a rain-soaked pier, Soldiers lug the last crates from the

              trucks onto two Soviet freighters docked on each side.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     2.

 

 

              A dozen Navy Sentries guard the pier with rifles.

 

              Near the trucks, Hidalgo and Kozlov stand by a staff car.

 

              A few yards behind them, two Bankers watch uneasily from

              inside an old black limousine:

 

              SALVADOR GARCIA (50s), a silver-haired, aristocratic vice-

              president, and ALEJANDRO RUIZ (40s), a short, high-strung

              manager with pomaded black hair and a handlebar mustache.

 

              Kozlov speaks to Hidalgo in heavily-accented Spanish.

 

                                  KOZLOV

                        [It was a pleasure to meet you,

                        Comrade Colonel.  Thank you for

                        your hospitality.]

                               (salutes)

                        Viva la Republica!

 

              Hidalgo straightens and salutes back.

 

              Kozlov heads for his ship, docked on the right.

 

              The Soldiers climb back into their trucks.

 

                                  HIDALGO

                        [Comrade Kozlov, aren't you

                        forgetting something?

                               (beat)

                        I need a receipt.]

 

              Kozlov reacts like a disinterested bureaucrat.

 

                                  KOZLOV

                        [Receipt?  There was no mention of

                        that in my orders.]

 

              In the limo, Garcia and Ruiz share a worried glance.

 

                                  HIDALGO

                        [I was ordered to bring back a

                        receipt signed by you with the

                        exact number of crates!]

 

                                  KOZLOV

                        [I'm sorry, Comrade Colonel.]

 

                                  HIDALGO

                        [Are you refusing to comply?!]

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     3.

 

 

                                  KOZLOV

                        [I said, it was not in my orders.

                               (pause)

                        When my ships arrive at their

                        destination, I will gladly forward

                        your request to my superiors.

                               (walks away)

                        Don't worry, Comrade.  We're all

                        on the same side.]

 

              Incensed, Hidalgo watches Kozlov ascend the gangplank.

 

              Ruiz and Garcia emerge from their limo and open umbrellas.

              They rush to Hidalgo in alarm.

 

                                  GARCIA

                        [You're not just going to let him

                        leave, are you?!]

 

                                  HIDALGO

                        [What do you recommend, Comrade

                        Garcia?  That I arrest him?]

 

              Ruiz drops his umbrella and RUNS toward Kozlov's freighter.

 

              On both ships, Deck Hands withdraw gangplanks and cast off

              mooring lines.

 

                                  RUIZ

                        [WAIT!  STOP!  THIS IS IMPROPER

                        PROCEDURE!]

 

              The dark water behind Kozlov's freighter CHURNS.

 

              At the end of the pier, next to a motorcycle with sidecar,

              two Russians in trenchcoats and leather caps observe calmly:

 

              DMITRI BORODIN (30s), a grim, wiry thug with bony features,

              and YURI PETRUSHENKO (20s), a thick-set goon.

 

              Dmitri jots on a notepad while Yuri smokes and watches Garcia.

 

                                  GARCIA

                               (to Kozlov)

                        [MARK MY WORD!  I'LL REPORT YOU TO

                        PRIME MINISTER CABALLERO!]

 

              Kozlov blandly waves farewell as his ship leaves the dock.

 

              Yuri KICK-STARTS his motorcycle.

 

              Dmitri climbs into the sidecar and dons leather gloves.

 

 

 

                                                                     4.

 

 

              Yuri turns the rig around.  Its tires SLITHER and RUMBLE on

              the wet planks.

 

              The left-hand freighter slowly pulls away.  The Soviet flag

              ripples from its main mast.

 

              Garcia and Ruiz shake their fists at the departing ships.

 

              EXT. DOWNTOWN MADRID - DAY

 

              SUPER: "MADRID - APRIL 1937"

 

              DANIEL ARCHER (30s), a fair-haired American reporter in a

              tweed suit, passes a barricade manned by several ragtag

              Soldiers (20s) with old rifles and a Maxim machine-gun.

 

              The Soldiers stand guard, eat, smoke, or clean their weapons.

              They listen to the random THUMPS of distant artillery fire.

 

              Daniel walks on, checking the addresses of the stately houses

              on this otherwise deserted street.  All the windowpanes are

              crisscrossed with tape.

 

              He passes under a bold red banner suspended across the road.

              In Spanish it reads: "MADRID WILL BE THE TOMB OF FASCISM!"

 

              EXT. GERMAN EMBASSY

 

              A crew of Movers (20s) haul furniture and boxes from the gray

              stone mansion to a trio of parked vans.

 

              Daniel calmly passes a German Sentry at the gate, then looks

              at the Nazi Swastika flag fluttering overhead.

 

              INT. GERMAN EMBASSY

 

              GUNTER (20s), a curt Aryan secretary, interrupts the packing

              of his office files to stare coldly at Daniel.

 

                                  GUNTER

                        Mister Archer, there are no

                        Spaniards here.

 

              Through the door of the adjacent office, the stiff, hawk-

              faced attaché SCHILLER (40s) watches Daniel with distaste

              while emptying his desk.

 

              Daniel glances at Schiller, but directs his words to Gunter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     5.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Look, everyone knows that Spanish

                        Nationalists have taken refuge in

                        the embassies.

 

              Gunter ignores him and continues packing.

 

              Schiller does likewise.

 

              Daniel, fed-up, addresses both of them.

 

                                  DANIEL

                               (continuing)

                        Where's the Ambassador?  I want to

                        speak to him!

 

              Schiller raises an indignant eyebrow.  He signals Gunter with

              a sharp cock of his head: Get rid of him!

 

              Gunter gets the message.  He opens a file cabinet drawer and

              quickly searches the folders.

 

                                  GUNTER

                        Ambassador Faupel is now in

                        Salamanca.  Where we are going.

 

              He selects a mimeographed page from a folder.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        I figured the Republic would throw

                        you out, seein' as how Hitler and

                        Franco are such good buddies.

 

              Daniel peeks into one of the open boxes, then stops when

              Gunter SLAMS the file drawer shut.

 

                                  GUNTER

                        The Third Reich recognizes the

                        Junta as the legitimate government

                        of Spain, not the Republic.

                               (presents the sheet)

                        Take this.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        What is it?

 

                                  GUNTER

                        A press statement.

 

              Daniel skims it quickly, then winces in disgust.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     6.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        I came looking to interview a

                        Franco sympathizer.

                               (drops page on desk)

                        You can keep your Nazi bullshit.

 

              Gunter sternly indicates the exit.

 

                                  GUNTER

                        There are no Spaniards here.  Only

                        Germans.  Good day, Mister Archer.

 

              Daniel looks fed up and ready to leave.

 

              An older Spanish gentleman calls from the hallway.

 

                                  PALACIOS (O.S.)

                        Gunter?

 

              JOAQUIN PALACIOS (50s) shuffles in wearing only a bathrobe

              and slippers and holding a toothbrush.  He comports himself

              with the threadbare dignity of a once-rich man.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                               (in Spanish)

                        [Gunter, I'm out of tooth powder.

                        May I use yours?]

 

              Gunter is wide-eyed with embarrassment.

 

              Palacios suddenly realizes Daniel is probably not German.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                               (continuing)

                        Oh.

 

              Daniel smiles like he's hit the jackpot.

 

              He glances at Gunter, who averts his eyes.

 

              INT. GERMAN EMBASSY - LIBRARY

 

              The bookshelves are empty.  On the walls, clean rectangles

              indicate where paintings once hung.  The drapes are closed.

 

              In a plush armchair, Palacios, impeccably dressed in a French-

              cuff shirt, tie and slacks, STRIKES a match.

 

              He lights a cigar, sits back and puffs.  His resonant voice

              is laden with resignation and grief for a bygone era: his era.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     7.

 

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        My name is Joaquin Palacios.  I

                        was a landowner until the fighting

                        broke out last summer.

                               (pause)

                        My farms, my estate... Everything

                        my family worked for was taken by

                        the Reds.

 

              In a similar chair, Daniel takes notes on a reporter's pad.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Are the Germans going to smuggle

                        you out of Madrid?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        They better.  I intend to help

                        Franco overthrow this Godforsaken

                        Republic.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        You prefer a dictatorship?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        Why bother with another election?

                        We all know the last one was

                        rigged by the Communists!

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Do you mean to say the majority of

                        Spaniards were against land reform?

 

              Palacios regards him with superior disdain.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        "Land Reform"...

                               (beat)

                        Señor, that's what happens when

                        you let the mob rule.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        I see.  So what does the election

                        of the Popular Front mean to you?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        Isn't it obvious?  Democracy opens

                        the door to Communism!

 

              He puffs his cigar smugly as Daniel contemplates a response.

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     8.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        The Communists are only a tiny

                        minority in the coalition.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        A minority with great influence.

                               (beat)

                        Like the Jews and the Freemasons.

                               (pause)

                        Your own country's in danger, too.

                        Look at Roosevelt.

 

              Daniel's calm face barely hides his contempt.

 

                                  DANIEL

                               (pause)

                        I voted for Roosevelt.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        That makes you a Communist dupe.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        So Franco, Hitler and Mussolini

                        are heroes?  After what happened

                        to Guernica last week?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        The Nationalists never bombed

                        Guernica.  That's just a Red hoax!

                        The Republic destroyed the town

                        and blamed it on the Junta!

 

              Daniel shakes his head slightly in dismay.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Well...  Obviously, we read

                        different newspapers.

 

              Palacios takes a satisfying puff; he's cool as a cucumber.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                        Obviously.

 

              Daniel takes notes and lets his anger subside.

 

              INT. GERMAN EMBASSY - CODE ROOM

 

              In a cramped, windowless nook, surrounded by radio and

              encryption gear, sits FRANZ HARTMANN (30s), a German agent

              with a head like a chiseled block.  Wearing headphones, he

              eavesdrops and takes rapid, precise notes.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     9.

 

 

                                  PALACIOS' VOICE

                               (filter)

                        Surely you've heard about Spain's

                        gold being sent to Russia.

 

              Schiller peeks in.

 

                                  SCHILLER

                        [What is it, Hartmann?]

 

              Hartmann raises his hand for silence.

 

                                  DANIEL'S VOICE

                        No, I haven't.  Is that just a

                        rumor, or can you verify it?

 

              INT. GERMAN EMBASSY - LIBRARY - CONTINUING

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Do you know someone I could talk

                        to about the gold?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                               (long pause)

                        There is one man in Madrid.

                               (gestures)

                        May I write a note for him?

 

              Daniel hands over his pad and pen.  Palacios writes.

 

                                  PALACIOS

                               (continuing)

                        Alejandro Ruiz manages accounts at

                        the Bank of Spain.

                               (returns pad & pen)

                        You must not reveal his identity.

                        Or mine.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Don't worry.  You can trust me.

                               (pause)

                        Is Señor Ruiz... like you?

 

                                  PALACIOS

                               (shakes his head)

                        I warned him, months ago.

                               (pause)

                        Anyone in the middle of the road

                        is just asking to get run over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     10.

 

 

              EXT. PLAZA DEL CALLAO - AFTERNOON

 

              In this downtown district off the Gran Vía, Pedestrians

              SCURRY from one fortified doorway to the next.  Traffic is

              very light.

 

              On the corner across from the Hotel Florida stands a block-

              shaped kiosk with newspaper and magazine racks.  PABLO (12),

              a lively, precocious boy, calls out the headline.

 

                                  PABLO

                        [FASCISTS DENY BOMBING GUERNICA!]

 

              Daniel quickly browses and selects issues of L'Humanité and

              The Daily Telegraph.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        [Do you have The New York Times?]

 

                                  PABLO

                        [Sold out.  Maybe tomorrow.]

 

              Daniel hands him a couple of thick peseta coins.

 

                                  PABLO

                               (continuing)

                        Gracias.  Salud!

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Salud.

 

              He walks toward the hotel and skims one of his newspapers.

 

                                  PABLO (O.S.)

                        [FASCISTS DENY BOMBING GUERNICA!

                        READ ALL ABOUT IT!]

 

              INT. HOTEL FLORIDA - BAR - NIGHT

 

              The smoky, wood-paneled bar teems with Foreign Journalists

              (20s-40s), all gabbing away and drinking like fish.  Their

              clothing is casual -- not a suit in sight.

 

              At the center of a flock of Reporters stands ERNEST HEMINGWAY

              (37) in a field jacket, corduroys & beret.  He regales the

              crowd while smoking & drinking whisky.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        So we're about a mile from the

                        front when this soldier passes by

                        with a glazed, faraway look in his

                        eyes, like we're not even there.

 

 

 

                                                                     11.

 

 

              ROBERT CAPA (23), the Hungarian Jewish photographer, speaks.

 

                                  ROBERT

                        Going to the front or leaving it?

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Leaving.  He knew the score.

 

              Daniel ENTERS and surveys the crowd.

 

              He edges through the forest of bodies around Ernest.

 

                                  ERNEST

                               (continuing)

                        A minute later, along come these

                        two guys in trenchcoats with

                        pistols, okay?

                               (beat)

                        One of 'em asks us in bad Spanish

                        if we've seen a soldier go by.

 

              COLIN YATES (40s), a quick-witted Englishman, comments.

 

                                  COLIN

                        Russians, by any chance?

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Mmm, probably.

                               (pause)

                        We just point that-a-way over the

                        hill.  And off they go.

                               (puffs his cig)

                        We're just sittin' there smokin',

                        and a few minutes later... BANG!

 

              MARTHA GELLHORN (28), a sophisticated blonde reporter,

              flinches.

 

                                  MARTHA

                        Oh my God.

 

              She and Ernest share a private glance; they're more than

              friends, but his sympathy must be discreet.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        The trenchcoat guys come back.

                               (pause)

                        They say, "Gracias, Camaradas."

                               (pause)

                        We just nod.

                               (pause)

                        And away they go to the front.

 

 

 

                                                                     12.

 

 

              Daniel and the others stare somberly; some sip their drinks.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Damn.

 

              CAPTAIN FELIPE SANCHEZ (30), a lean, easygoing officer in

              khakis & a Sam Browne belt, ENTERS and joins the crowd.

 

              Ernest notices Felipe and adjusts his tone diplomatically.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Well, there's a war on.  You can't

                        have an army without discipline.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Aren't you... Ernest Hemingway?

 

              Ernest smiles and gives him a manly, vigorous handshake.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Bingo!  You've won a free drink!

                               (fetches a bottle)

                        Whisky?

 

              Pleasantly surprised, Daniel nods.

 

              Ernest gets a glass from the BARTENDER (30s) and pours Daniel

              a shot.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Thanks.  I'm Daniel Archer.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Welcome to Spain, Daniel.  Cheers!

 

              They clink glasses and drink.

 

                                  ERNEST

                               (continuing)

                        You must be one of the new guys.

 

              Everyone's looking at Daniel, but he takes it in stride.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        It's the suit, isn't it?

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Proletarian chic is all the rage.

                        May I?

 

              Daniel nods as Ernest undoes his tie and removes it.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     13.

 

 

              Ernest then opens his collar.

 

                                  ERNEST

                               (continuing)

                        Mucho mejor.  You don't wanna look

                        too bourgeois.  The fanatics

                        here'll shoot you!

 

                                  FELIPE

                        Ernesto is exaggerating again.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        Ah, buenas noches, Felipe!

                               (beat)

                        Daniel, meet Felipe Sanchez, our

                        press liaison.

 

                                  COLIN

                               (thick Russian accent)

                        Comrade Commissar!

 

              Felipe ignores him and shakes hands with Daniel.

 

                                  FELIPE

                        Welcome, Daniel.  Which paper are

                        you with?

 

                                  DANIEL

                        The Yonkers Tribune.

 

              Ernest and Martha share a bemused glance.

 

                                  FELIPE

                        Ah.  Very good.

                               (beat)

                        Is the hotel treating you well?

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Yeah, but I had to take a room on

                        the sixth floor, facing the street.

 

              GEORGE SELDES (46), the energetic American muckraker, gasps.

 

                                  GEORGE

                        Christ!  You're exposed to

                        artillery fire!

 

              Daniel looks to Felipe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     14.

 

 

                                  FELIPE

                               (sighs)

                        Inside rooms are hard to get.

                        I'll see what I can do.

 

                                  ERNEST

                        If the shelling gets nasty, you're

                        welcome to hang out with me.  I'm

                        in Two-Oh-Four.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Thanks.  I might just take you up

                        on that.

 

              The Bartender's phone RINGS; he answers promptly.

 

                                  BARTENDER

                        Digame.

 

              He listens for a few seconds, then turns to the crowd.

 

                                  BARTENDER

                               (continuing)

                        Daniel Archer?

 

                                  DANIEL

                        That's me.

 

              He takes the phone and converses softly in the background.

 

                                  FELIPE

                               (to the Reporters)

                        I just want to remind everyone of

                        our tour of the munitions factory

                        tomorrow.  We'll meet in the lobby

                        at eight o'clock.

 

              Daniel reacts to Felipe and his caller with a perplexed

              expression.

 

              Ernest and George give each other a subtle, curious glance.

 

              INT. AMMO FACTORY - MORNING

 

              A Dozen Reporters, including Daniel, George, Martha, Colin,

              and Felipe walk together in this hastily-improvised, low-tech

              operation, led by DOLORES (30), the stocky foreman.

 

              The walls are adorned with bold Spanish labor posters.

              Patriotic Spanish MUSIC on the radio almost masks the faint

              RUMBLE of artillery fire.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     15.

 

 

              Fifty female Workers (15-40s) seated in assembly lines

              rapidly SORT and RELOAD bullets at long worktables.

 

              With pleasure Daniel observes more young women hauling raw

              materials and ammo boxes to and fro.  George notices, too.

 

                                  GEORGE

                        I wouldn't mind working here!

 

              Three female Sorters at a huge bin of spent cartridges TOSS

              one casing after another into baskets labeled: 7.62mm,

              7.92mm, 8mm, 9mm, 11mm, etc.  A basket labeled "DEFECTUOSO"

              receives any deformed casings.

 

              The Sorters' hands, dirty from handling brass, move with

              phenomenal speed.  The metallic CLATTER never ceases.

 

              LILLIAN HELLMAN (32), the feisty New York playwright, speaks

              to Dolores.

 

                                  LILLIAN

                        Wouldn't it be simpler to buy new

                        bullets instead of reloading them?

 

                                  DOLORES

                        Of course it would.  The problem

                        is the embargo that keeps us from

                        getting the supplies we need.

 

                                  FELIPE

                        We're short of everything: food,

                        medicine, gasoline, you name it!

 

                                  COLIN

                        The Fascists don't seem to have

                        that problem.

 

                                  DOLORES

                        You noticed.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        What about the Russians?  Aren't

                        they helping?

 

                                  DOLORES

                        Yes, they help us a lot, but it's

                        not enough.  Many shipments can't

                        get through the blockade.  Or

                        they're sunk by the Fascists!

 

                                  MARTHA

                        It's not fair, is it?

 

 

 

                                                                     16.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        The embargo's not being enforced

                        on Franco's side.  Go figure.

 

                                  FELIPE

                        Ending the embargo is our only

                        hope.  Then we could buy what we

                        need from Britain, France,

                        America, or any other country.

 

                                  GEORGE

                        Except Germany, of course!

 

              Dolores and the Reporters laugh.  Some take notes, while

              Daniel and a few others take photos as they continue walking.

 

              A Worker delivers a basket of sorted casings to one of the

              assembly lines.

 

              Reloaders INSERT new primers, gunpowder, and lead bullets.

 

                                  LILLIAN

                        How reliable are these bullets?

 

              At the end of the Reloader line, a Girl (15) inspects each

              bullet before placing it in an ammo box.

 

                                  DOLORES

                        They jam more often than new ones.

                        In a battle, that can have fatal

                        consequences.

 

              Suddenly an air-raid SIREN blows.  Everyone stops and looks

              around in alarm.

 

                                  COLIN

                        Bloody hell!

 

                                  DOLORES

                        [AIR RAID!  EVERYONE TO THE

                        SHELTER!  MOVE IT!]

 

              The Workers drop what they're doing and hurry in an orderly

              fashion through a trap door to the basement.

 

                                  MARTHA

                        Felipe, what do we do?!

 

                                  FELIPE

                        Remain calm!  There's room for all

                        of us!  Follow them into the

                        shelter, single-file!

 

 

 

                                                                     17.

 

 

              As the Reporters follow the Workers into the basement, Daniel

              notices ELENA MORELL (20s), a slim, raven-haired Catalan

              beauty in a faded sundress.

 

              Elena grabs a fistful of recycled bullets from an open box,

              then ducks into a closet.

 

              Daniel reluctantly climbs down into the shelter.  The trap

              door closes behind him.

 

              A few moments later, COMMOTION seeps through the floor.

 

              Dolores opens the trap door and peeks out.

 

                                  DOLORES

                        [ELENA MORELL!  WHERE ARE YOU?!]

 

              Daniel squeezes next to her to get a good look.

 

              Elena emerges from the closet with an old Mauser rifle slung

              over her shoulder.

 

              With a furious grunt, she PULLS OPEN the factory's enormous

              sliding door.  The THUNDERING DRONE of bombers grows louder.

 

                                  DOLORES

                               (continuing)

                        [ELENA!  WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU

                        DOING?!  YOU'LL GET KILLED!]

 

              Elena expertly chambers a round in her Mauser.

 

                                  ELENA

                        [THEN I'LL GO DOWN FIGHTING!]

 

              Daniel looks impressed.

 

              Elena dashes out onto the loading dock and disappears.

 

              BOMBS WHISTLE DOWN.  EXPLOSIONS ROCK the earth, growing in

              intensity by the second.

 

              Daniel slides past Dolores.  She tries to grab him, but he

              shakes her loose and climbs out.

 

              As Daniel chases after Elena, Felipe pokes his head out the

              half-open cellar door.

 

                                  FELIPE

                        DANIEL!  COME BACK HERE!

                               (beat)

                        ARE YOU CRAZY?!

 

 

 

                                                                     18.

 

 

              At the gaping factory doorway, Daniel turns to Felipe.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Hey, I go where the story is.

 

              With an impish grin, he EXITS.

 

              EXT. AMMO FACTORY

 

              This industrial neighborhood street is deserted.  The only

              sounds are BOMBERS, EXPLOSIONS & FLAK BURSTS.

 

              Daniel RUNS past a flaming car wreck and looks around.  A

              GUNSHOT rings out.  He turns sharply.

 

                                  ELENA (O.S.)

                        [THAT'S FOR GUERNICA!  FASCIST

                        COWARDS!]

 

              Elena aims at the Nationalist bombers and SHOOTS again.

 

              She ejects the spent casing, then aims, moving the barrel

              ahead of her target like a duck hunter.

 

              BLAM!

 

              Awestruck, Daniel cautiously approaches her with his Leica.

 

              He snaps a photo of her with fire in her eyes, shaking her

              fist defiantly at the sky.

 

                                  ELENA

                        [YOU CALL YOURSELVES PATRIOTS?!

                        YOU MURDERERS!]

 

              She takes aim again.  Daniel snaps another picture.

 

              BLAM!

 

              Daniel gently shakes his head in wonder.

 

              Elena struggles with her jammed rifle, then notices Daniel.

 

                                  ELENA

                               (continuing)

                        [What are you staring at?!  Can't

                        you make yourself useful?!]

 

              Daniel doesn't quite get it.  A sudden loud EXPLOSION makes

              him flinch.  Smoke and dust fill the air.

 

              Elena fights with her stuck rifle bolt: GRRR!

 

 

 

                                                                     19.

 

 

              The bombers' DRONING fades away, along with the EXPLOSIONS.

 

              Finally the bent cartridge tinkles on the ground.

 

              Daniel smiles at Elena.  Both are breathing hard from the

              adrenaline rush.  Her dress is sweat-stained.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        [I'm Daniel Archer.  Sorry my

                        Spanish isn't that great.]

 

              Elena just looks at the smoky skyline, panting.

 

              A storm of emotion wells up in her eyes.

 

              Tears trickle down her cheeks.

 

              She begins to weep openly in heaving sobs.

 

              Daniel watches her with awkward sympathy.

 

              A SIREN blows the "All Clear" signal.  Ambulance and Fire

              Truck BELLS cross the neighborhood in every direction.

 

              Elena somberly carries her rifle back to the factory.

 

              Daniel walks alongside, glancing at her every so often.

 

                                  DANIEL

                               (continuing)

                        You okay?

 

              She nods and wipes away her tears, then vents her rage.

 

                                  ELENA

                               (long pause)

                        Are you satisfied?!

                               (pause)

                        Go to the zoo, see the animal!

                               (strikes a pose)

                        Go on, take pictures!  Take all

                        you want!

                               (walks on)

                        Parásito!

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Whoa, hold on!  I'm on your side!

 

                                  ELENA

                        Oh yeah?  I don't see your gun,

                        Comrade.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     20.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Well, fine!  I admit, I'm not a

                        Communist, okay?

 

              Elena pauses and gives him a dagger-stare to make her point.

 

                                  ELENA

                        Neither am I.

 

              Daniel searches her eyes in surprised curiosity.

 

                                  DOLORES (O.S.)

                        ELENA!

 

              In the doorway, Dolores and Felipe stand like annoyed parents

              awaiting their errant children.

 

                                  DOLORES

                        [Get back in here, crazy girl!

                        There's work to do!]

 

              Daniel watches the two women have it out.

 

                                  ELENA

                        [I should be at the front with the

                        militia!  Shooting bullets, not

                        making them!]

 

                                  DOLORES

                        [Your militia days are over!  Get

                        used to it!]

 

              Felipe glances at Daniel with a skeptical head-shake.

 

              Dolores re-enters the factory and bellows at her workers.

 

                                  DOLORES

                               (continuing)

                        [BACK TO YOUR PLACES!  INSPECT

                        EVERYTHING FOR DAMAGE!]

 

              Daniel leans closer to Elena.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        I'm staying at the Hotel Florida

                        in the Plaza del Callao.

 

                                  ELENA

                        Why are you telling me this?

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     21.

 

 

                                  DANIEL

                        If you have a story to share, I'm

                        a good listener.

 

              Elena stares in mild surprise, then proceeds through the door.

 

              EXT. AMERICAN EMBASSY - DAY

 

              The windows of this Embassy Row mansion are taped.  The U.S.

              flag flies from a pole near the door.

 

              Daniel shows his passport to the Marine Guard, then proceeds

              through the entrance.

 

              INT. AMERICAN EMBASSY

 

              Daniel finds the place dark and devoid of furnishings.  He

              climbs the stairs and searches for signs of life.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Hello...

                               (long pause)

                        Hello?

 

              AMBASSADOR CLAUDE BOWERS (58), a thin, balding Midwesterner

              in a suit & bow tie, peers down from the second floor

              landing.  His tone is sincere and down-to-earth.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Are you Mister Archer?

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Yes.  I got a call yesterday.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Excellent.  Come on up!

 

              INT. AMERICAN EMBASSY - OFFICE

 

              Bowers' former office is huge and empty except for an old

              desk and a few simple chairs.  The only light comes through

              the open windows.

 

              Bowers shakes Daniel's hand.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Glad you could make it.  I'm

                        Claude Bowers, the Ambassador.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Good morning, sir.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     22.

 

 

                                  BOWERS

                        This is my attaché, Stuart Wilson.

 

              STUART WILSON (40s), a tall, classic "Old Boy" from New

              England, shakes Daniel's hand.

 

                                  WILSON

                        Army Intelligence.  Thanks for

                        coming in, Mister Archer.

 

              Bowers pours water from a pitcher into three tall glasses.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Have a seat.

                               (offers a glass)

                        Thirsty?

 

              Daniel accepts the glass and sits in a guest chair.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        Thank you.

 

              Wilson takes his own glass.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Your articles on the invasion of

                        Ethiopia were quite perceptive.

 

              He sits on the edge of the desk and sips his water.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        You read those, huh?

 

                                  WILSON

                        Last year, hardly any of us

                        predicted an alliance between

                        Italy, Germany, and Japan.

 

              Daniel drinks and sizes them up.

 

                                  DANIEL

                               (long pause)

                        Looks like you're moving out.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Oh, we moved ages ago.  All the

                        nations that recognize the

                        Republic sent their embassies to

                        Saint Jean-de-Luz.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        In France?

 

 

 

                                                                     23.

 

 

                                  WILSON

                        Safest place to be right now.

 

              He sits in a chair facing Daniel and drinks.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        We make frequent trips here,

                        though.  Mainly to evacuate

                        American civilians.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        But you wanted to see me about

                        something else.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        Tell me, Mister Archer, what's

                        your opinion of this "civil war"?

 

                                  DANIEL

                        I just got here.

 

                                  WILSON

                        The war's been going on almost a

                        full year.  Surely you've been

                        reading about it.

 

                                  DANIEL

                        The news is mostly propaganda for

                        one side or the other.

 

              Bowers and Wilson share subtle looks of approval.

 

                                  BOWERS

                        That's always the problem, isn't

                        it?  The fog of war.

 

              He stands and gazes out the large windows.

 

              Across the street, a motorcycle-sidecar rig is parked.

 

                                  BOWERS

                               (continuing)

                        Everyone in the Spanish government

                        assures me that the Communists are

                        not taking over.

                               (beat)

                        And I want to believe them.

 

                                  DANIEL

                               (pause)

                        Oh, I get it.  You need a spy.

 

 

 

 

                                                                     24.

 

 

              Wilson is taken aback by the implication.

 

                                  WILSON

                        Mister Archer... "Spy" is such a

                        loaded word.

                               (beat)

                        We prefer the term "informant".

 

                                  BOWERS

                        You'd be doing your country a

                        great service.

 

                                  WILSON

                        FDR needs accurate intelligence.

                        Unbiased reporters like you help

                        us "fill the gaps".

 

                                  BOWERS

                        With Hitler and Mussolini helping