doesn't respond, acts bored. It gets Adlai's goat, and he
begins to lose his cool. A rumble from the U.N. The CAMERA
FINDS Adlai's hand SHAKING, gripping his pen.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - WHITE HOUSE - DAY
EXCOM is worried.
RUSK
Come on, Adlai, don't let him off!
BOBBY
John? It's Bobby. Get ready to send
your staffer in. He's going to be
coming out.
INT. U.N. SECURITY COUNCIL CHAMBERS - CONTINUOUS
But Adlai's tremors are not tremors of fear. They are
tremors of anger. His voice goes hard and cold.
ADLAI
All right, sir. Let me ask you one
simple question. Do you, Ambassador
Zorin, deny that the U.S.S.R. has placed
and is placing medium and intermediate
range missiles and sites in Cuba? Yes
or no - don't wait for the translation -
yes or no?
The diplomatic world GASPS as Adlai drops all pretense of
civility, all statesman-like grace.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
EXCOM's excitement mounts. In the chorus urging Adlai on, we
find Kenny edge toward the screen.
KENNY
Yeah. Yeah.
INT. U.N. SECURITY COUNCIL CHAMBERS - CONTINUOUS
Zorin shoots Adlai a testy look.
ZORIN
I am not in an American courtroom, sir,
and therefore I do not wish to answer a
question that is put to me in the
fashion in which a prosecutor puts
questions. In due course, sir, you will
have your answer.
There's laughter at Zorin's refusal to be bullied: but it's
nervous laughter, not the polite stuff of diplomatic tete-a
tete. The RUMBLE in the room grows louder.
ADLAI
You are in the courtroom of world
opinion right now, and you can answer
yes or no. You have denied they exist,
and I want to know if I have understood
you correctly.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY
EXCOM ROARS! Fists in the air! Bobby lets the phone dangle
a beat, covers it. And then he lifts it again.
BOBBY
John, I'll get back to you.
He lowers the phone to the receiver. Kenny shoots him a
triumphant smile. The President looks at Kenny, shakes his
head, a big smile on his face.
INT. U.N. SECURITY COUNCIL CHAMBERS - CONTINUOUS
Adlai presses on.
ADLAI
And I'm prepared to present the evidence
in this room, proving that the Soviet
Union has lied to the world.
And Zorin cracks. He looks uneasily to his delegation. They
bend forward to consult. Adlai sits back in his chair,
draping his arms over its wings with the confidence of
someone who knows he's kicked ass.
Adlai looks around the room while he's waiting for his
answer, managing not to smile. The diplomatic world is
scandalized. At last Zorin regroups, lifts his head from his
huddle.
ZORIN
If you do not choose to continue your
statement, the Chair recognizes the
representative from Chile.
The CHILEAN DELEGATE stands.
CHILEAN DELEGATE
I yield my time and the floor to the
representative to the United States.
The room explodes in laughter. Not just nervous any more,
not just polite. They're laughing at Zorin's parliamentary
ploy blowing up in his face.
Zorin's smile is gone, his smooth facade destroyed. And he
looks like the biggest fool in the world.
Adlai stares at the beet-faced man with disdain. At last,
Adlai stands, gestures to the door to the hall behind him.
The PHOTO INTERPRETERS come racing in with their briefing
boards.
ADLAI
Well then, ladies and gentlemen, since
it appears we might be here for a while,
shall we have a look at what the Soviets
are doing in Cuba?
The Delegates RUMBLE in interest, rise from their seats to
approach Adlai.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
EXCOM celebrates. Phones ring at several of the chairs at
the conference table. The President and Kenny meet as Bundy
picks up a phone in the b.g.
THE PRESIDENT
Didn't know Adlai had it in him. Too
bad he didn't have this stuff in '52.
KENNY
Zorin must not have gotten instructions.
Somebody in their Foreign Ministry's
blown it big-time.
Bundy steps forward, holding the phone.
BUNDY
Mr. President...
Kenny and the President turn to see what they already have
heard in those two words: concern. The room falls quiet.
INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS
Phone in hand, McNamara paces at his post over the flag plot.
MCNAMARA
...the ship is called Groznyy.
EXT. OCEAN, PUERTO RICO TRENCH - CONTINUOUS
The Soviet Tanker, Groznyy, breasts the heavy seas. Armed
CREWMEN race along the deck to makeshift sandbagged
emplacements in the bow.
MCNAMARA (V.O.)
We lost track of it yesterday at
nightfall. We thought we gave it plenty
of room when we moved the quarantine
line back. We just reacquired it.
The CAMERA PANS to the left, revealing a U.S. DESTROYER
racing up alongside a few hundred yards away, pounding up and
over the swells, punching up a huge fan of spray from its
bow.
INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS
MCNAMARA
It crossed the line hours ago.
Admiral Anderson, on the phone on the level below, is tense.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
Hail them again.
THE PRESIDENT (O.S.)
Keep us posted, Bob.
McNamara leans against the wall, closes his eyes in
exhaustion and stress. And when he opens the, we PAN AROUND
TO REVEAL:
A G-d-like view of the flag plot, covered with HUNDREDS OF
SHIPS, PLANES AND MARKINGS.
McNamara stares out at the bewildering tangle of symbols,
living men behind each one. Each tangle of red and blue
symbols a powderkeg. A G-dlike view indeed. And it is far
more than any one mere man could keep control of. And he
begins to realize it.
MCNAMARA
We're kidding ourselves...
And not only that, in his bleary, sleep-deprived fog, he
begins to understand something happening down there.
The CAMERA MOVES over the enormous map, over the scrolling
cryptic numerology. THE BUZZ of radio communications bleeds
in from the background. The overhead platform swivels on its
motor, like the vast arm of some fate-writing god as the
Watch Officer on it updates the movements of the ships.
McNamara stares, at the verge of grasping something. Through
the door-crack of genius, he has the glimpse of some grander
thing, some grander design.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
Very well. Load your guns.
That starts McNamara from his fatigued reverie. He goes to
the railing, looks down on Anderson.
MCNAMARA
What was that, Admiral?
Anderson turns, gazes up from his tier below, distracted.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
We've been hailing the Groznyy for the
last hour, Mr. Secretary. The Groznyy
refuses to stop.
MCNAMARA
What are you doing?
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
Carrying out our mission, Mr. Secretary.
If you don't mind, we're very busy right
now. We need to be able to do our jobs.
MCNAMARA
Admiral, I asked you a question.
Anderson holds the phone aside, turns around again, looks up
at him, impatient. His answer is hard, cold, dangerous.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
We're going to follow the Rules of
Engagement. The Rules of Engagement
which the President has approved and
signed in his order of October 23rd.
Anderson listens again to the phone.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON (CONT'D)
Yes, Captain, you may proceed. Clear
your guns.
MCNAMARA
What --
EXT. OCEAN, PUERTO RICO TRENCH - CONTINUOUS
The Destroyer's forward 5-inch twin guns swivel, train on the
Groznyy. A beat. They OPEN FIRE with an ear-splitting
BAMBAM, ripping the air in front of the muzzles, the Groznyy
so close a miss isn't possible.
INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS
McNamara SHOUTS at Anderson, dropping down the steps to
Anderson's level.
MCNAMARA
GODDAMNIT, STOP THAT FIRING!
Watch Officers scramble to comply, chaos and shouting in the
war room as a chorus if "Cease fire cease fire cease fire,"
goes up. McNamara turns on Anderson, is in his face.
MCNAMARA (CONT'D)
Jesus Christ, God help us.
Anderson smashes the phone down, wheels on McNamara, furious.
EXT. OCEAN, PUERTO RICO TRENCH - CONTINUOUS
The Destroyer's guns hammer away at the Groznyy, at point
blank range... but the Groznyy IS UNHARMED.
Suddenly, in the air above it appear BRILLIANT FLARES. They
light up the ship, brighter than the sun. The destroyer
isn't firing deadly rounds... it's firing harmless
starshells.
INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS
Anderson gets in McNamara's face.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
That ship was firing starshells.
Starshells. Flares, Mr. Secretary.
Everyone's eyes are on the two men. Only the chatter of
teletype breaks the paralyzing silence. McNamara blinks,
looks down at the plot on the floor. Anderson's voice drops
to a deadly sotto.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON (CONT'D)
Goddammitt, I've got a job to do.
You've been camped out up there since
Monday night. You're exhausted and
you're making mistakes. Interfere with
me, you will get some of killed. I will
not allow that.
McNamara looks away at the faces of the men in the room.
MCNAMARA
Starshells.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
Get out of our way, Mr. Secretary. The
navy has been running blockades since
the days of John Paul Jones.
McNamara turns back. And all trepidation, embarrassment,
hesitation are gone. He coldly appraises Anderson.
MCNAMARA
I believe the President made it clear
that there would be no firing on ships
without his express permission.
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
With all due respect, Mr. Secretary, we
were not firing on the ship. Firing on
a ship means attacking the ship. We
were not attacking the ship. We were
firing over it.
MCNAMARA
This was not the President's intention
when he gave that order. What if the
Soviets don't see the distention? What
if they make the same mistake I just
did?
(beat)
There will be no firing anything near
ANY Soviet ships without my express
permission, is that understood, Admiral?
ADMIRAL ANDERSON
Yes, sir.
MCNAMARA
And I will only issue such instructions
when ordered to by the President.
(beat)
John Paul Jones... you don't understand
a thing, do you, Admiral?