POLICE OFFICER
Would you like me to call a car, Mr.
O'Donnell.
Kenny checks his watch.
KENNY
How long will it take to get someone up?
POLICE OFFICER
Fifteen minutes, maybe. To your house,
sir?
Kenny considers, shakes his head. He wants to go home,
but...
KENNY
No. No, I'll let her sleep. Let 'em
sleep.
Kenny says it with a certain finality. The Police Officer
nods, and Kenny wanders out through the gates, shouldering
the weight of the world.
EXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT
Kenny makes his way down a sidewalk not far from the White
House. A 24-hour drug store's doors are open. He pauses.
Inside, a knot of PEOPLE - late-night deliverymen, a cop, the
store employees - talk in undertones at the counter. Behind
it, a T.V. is signing off with the national anthem. Sober
voices, sober looks. Kenny moves on.
EXT. NEWS STAND - NIGHT
A cluster of COLLEGE STUDENTS talk at a news stand. They're
waiting for the NEWSIE to cut the bands of the next day's
Washington Post, the bundles just being thrown to the
sidewalk from the delivery truck. Kenny approaches.
In their thing beards, counter-culture clothes, the kids seem
so young, Kenny so old. Kenny buys a newspaper, its dire
headlines, every story about the crisis.
EXT. CATHOLIC CHURCH - NIGHT
Kenny, newspaper under his arm, continues down the street.
Up ahead, the lights are on in a Catholic Church. Lines of
CHURCHGOERS are at the door. Kenny stops, surprised at the
sight this late. And then he sees the hand-painted banner:
CONFESSIONS 24 HOURS. PRAY FOR PEACE.
Kenny is moved. He glances over his shoulder, and then...
joins the line himself.
INT. WHITE HOUSE - SITUATION ROOM - DAY
Kenny's WATCH reads one minute til ten o'clock. PULL BACK TO
REVEAL:
Kenny, standing just inside the open doors to the White House
Situation Room, a state-of-the-art conference room. A long,
central table surrounded by leather chairs with phones and
screens built in. T.V. monitors hang from the ceilings in
the corners. There are no windows, just oppressive bunker
like walls. It's far underground.
Across the room the President paces, phone in hand. Half of
EXCOM is in their seats. The other half, along with a steady
stream of DUTY OFFICERS, are coming and going. Kenny steps
aside for a Duty Officer, listens to the President.
THE PRESIDENT
Okay, Bob, I'm putting you on intercom.
Suddenly, McNamara's VOICE fills the room.
MCNAMARA (O.S.)
Hey, guys, can you hear me?
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - DAY
McNamara stands, phone in hand.
MCNAMARA
I have one minute til ten here --
THE CAMERA TRACKS AROUND HIM, REVEALING:
A large, elaborate war room, like Mission Control. Big
screens, plexiglass tracking boards, tiered banks of
communications equipment. A massive LIGHT TABLE on the floor
at the center of the room projects a map of the Caribbean and
Atlantic. Arcing across it is a RED LINE: the blockade.
The map is covered with cryptic military notations; WATCH
OFFICERS on a platform which swings out over it update the
latest ship positions.
McNamara's in a booth overlooking the room. It's open to the
next tier below where Admiral Anderson is giving orders.
MCNAMARA (CONT'D)
-- and no sign of them stopping.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY
Kenny and Bobby move to the President's end of the table, sit
down across from each other in mirror-image fashion. EXCOM
looks to the President. The second hand of the clock on the
wall wheels past 12. A hush falls over the room.
THE PRESIDENT
Bob, the quarantine is now in effect.
INT. FLAG PLOT - DAY
McNamara is mute for a beat. He turns to view the big room.
MCNAMARA
Then it looks like our first customers
are the Gagarin and Kimovsk.
He nods to Admiral Anderson, who calls an order down to a
Watch Officer on the floor, and on screens all around the
room, a sector of the map MAGNIFIES the unfolding encounter --
EXT. BRIDGE WING - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY
-- between the destroyer, U.S.S. Pierce and the SOVIET
FREIGHTERS Gagarin and Kimovsk. The Pierce's bridge wings
are crammed with helmeted OFFICERS and LOOKOUTS. They peer
through binoculars at the distant ships, plowing ahead,
straight for them. The CAPTAIN lowers his binoculars,
determined.
CAPTAIN
Helm, shape heading for intercept, zero
one zero. All ahead full --
OFFICER (O.S.)
-- new contact! New contact!
Everyone whirls to the bridge. The Captain steps forward.
INT. COMBAT INFORMATION CENTER - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY
The Captain ducks into the CIC. The CHIEF SONARAN reports.
CHIEF SONARMAN
Submerged contact, designation Sierra
one at 6000 yards bearing 030.
CAPTAIN
A submarine...
INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY
The President reacts. Kenny and Bobby react.
GENERAL TAYLOR
It's protecting the freighters.
Consternation. The President picks up the phone.
THE PRESIDENT
Bob, is there any way we can avoid
stopping a submarine first?
MCNAMARA (O.S.)
I'm afraid not, Mr. President. The sub
has positioned itself between the Pierce
and the Soviet ships. Admiral Anderson
insists it's too much of a risk to
proceed with stopping the freighters.
The Pierce would be a sitting duck for
the sub.
All around the room frustration. Bobby shakes his head.
Kenny sinks back in his chair. The President hesitates.
THE PRESIDENT
Put me through to the Pierce.
INT. FLAG PLOT - DAY
Admiral Anderson nods to a COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER. The man
makes the connection on a switchboard.
McNamara casts an eye to the map. The two red MARKERS
labeled Gagarin and Kimovsk are joined by a third: the SUB.
They are ALMOST TOUCHING the blockade line. On the other
side, the single blue marker for the Pierce.
INT. BRIDGE - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY
The Captain enters the bridge, takes the phone from the arm
of his chair.
CAPTAIN
Mr. President?
INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The President holds the phone, agonized.
THE PRESIDENT
Captain, can you force that submarine to
the surface for inspection without
damaging it yourself?
INT. BRIDGE, U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY
CAPTAIN
I can bring it up, Mr. President. But
whether it's damaged or not is up to the
sub.
INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The President lowers the phone, looks to Bobby and Kenny.
MCCONE
Even if they force it up, that sub will
be inspected over the crews' dead
bodies. They'd be executed for allowing
it when they got home.
All eyes are on the President. His eyes are closed tight,
face gray, hand over his mouth. The time of decision is at
hand. He lifts the phone once again.
THE PRESIDENT
Captain, force the sub to the surface
for inspection.
MCNAMARA (O.S.)
Mr. President! We're receiving reports
that the ships are stopping!
THE PRESIDENT
(to phone)
Captain, belay that order!
(to McNamara)
Bob, where's that coming from!
MCNAMARA (O.S.)
Just a second, Mr. President.
THE PRESIDENT
Will somebody find out what's going on?!
McCone jumps up, leaves the room. The President looks at
Kenny, tense. Everyone holds their breath.
RUSK
Are they stopping?
The HISS of static on the open line fills the room. Silence.
EXT. BRIDGE - U.S.S. JOHN R. PIERCE - CONTINUOUS
Lookouts peer across the water at the oncoming Soviet
Freighter.