The Last Mission (5)
He plops an object on the desktop. Cruwell recoils. Kempka's sickened. It's Zahir's severed head. VON RAVENSTEIN He became most uncooperative. (beat) You have an air search underway? Cruwell nods absently. Fixated on the head. VON RAVENSTEIN Shift it south of Siwa. That's where you'll find these commandos. Von Ravenstein takes the head. Places it back in his bag. Closes it and stands. VON RAVENSTEIN I need not remind you how concerned Berlin is for the safety of Germany's greatest general. CRUWELL The men of the Brandenburg Battalion will not fail. VON RAVENSTEIN Let's hope so. For your sake. Von Ravenstein departs. Franz entering as he does, holding a clean glass. FRANZ He's not waiting for this? Franz notices Kempka's green face. Wobbly legs. FRANZ What's with you? CRUWELL Sit Kempka. Before you fall. Shakily, Kempka finds his way to a chair. CRUWELL Franz. Get to Operations. Have the recon flights shifted south of Siwa. Franz nods. Departs. Cruwell sinks in his chair. Sighs. Rubs his temples. Kempka notices a book on Cruwell's night table. REVOLT IN THE DESERT BY T.E. LAWRENCE. Beside it, is a photo taken in a winter landscape. Soldiers pose, one beside the other. Cruwell in the center. He notices Kempka looking at the picture. CRUWELL In Russia. Last year. Cruwell picks it up. CRUWELL A village near Moscow. These spires. In the distance... Cruwell holds the photo for Kempka to SEE. CRUWELL Do you know what they are? Kempka shakes his head. CRUWELL It's the Kremlin. He stares off. Remembering. CRUWELL They counterattacked the next day. Most of my men were killed. Some shot themselves so they wouldn't have to fight. Others just gave up. Hundreds of them. Frozen in CRUWELL the snow. (beat) That was the beginning of the end Kempka. The beginning of our end. Cruwell touches the Iron Cross at his throat. KEMPKA Did you get that in Russia sir? CRUWELL No. I got it here. Cruwell looks away. KEMPKA What do we do sir? CRUWELL Find them Kempka. It's all we can do. EXT. DESERT - DAY The broken remnants of Samira's plane lie scattered in the sand. Half buried. The BUZZ of an aircraft engine grows louder. EXT. GERMAN BOMBER Flying low over the dunes. BOMBER PILOT Scans the horizon. Spots Samira's plane. Flies toward it. THE BOMBER Whips in low. Cameras WHIRL as photos are taken. EXT. GOBI AIRFIELD - OPERATIONS TENT - DAY A truck pulls up. SCREECHES to a halt. Kempka hops out and heads quickly inside. INT. OPERATIONS TENT Photographs are placed on an easel. Each a shot of Samira's wrecked plane. Cruwell steps up. Studying each with a magnifying glass. Kempka, Von Ravenstein and Franz watch nearby. Von Ravenstein shifts on his feet. VON RAVENSTEIN Well? Cruwell ignores him. Walks to the map on a nearby table. Runs his finger along the surface. His finger stops. He turns. A wide smile. KEMPKA Sir? They step up. Cruwell lifts his finger from the map. Uncovers two words. EL KUFRA. A GUNSHOT! EXT. EL KUFRA - RIFLE RANGE - DAY Several GUNSHOTS! Bullets strike a paper target. They miss. Far from center. EXT. SEVEN HUNDRED YARDS AWAY Scowling, Mitchell lays prone behind the Lee Enfield sniper rifle. The Boys Gun set up beside him. MITCHELL Dammit. He removes the magazine and reloads. SAMIRA (O.S.) At this rate... Mitchell looks over. Samira stands there. Wrist bandaged. A rifle slung over her shoulder. SAMIRA Rommel will die an old man. Immediately, he notices the desert fatigues gripping the curves of her body. She's gorgeous. MITCHELL If you came here to insult me- SAMIRA I came here to thank you. You could have left me there. Mitchell shrugs. MITCHELL I've left too many people behind. SAMIRA Yes. I know. MITCHELL Everybody knows. Mitchell returns his eye to the scope. Adjusts some knobs. She walks up. Notices the Boys Gun. SAMIRA What's this? A toy? MITCHELL It's a Boys gun. SAMIRA I know what it is. MITCHELL Yeah. Sure you do. He laughs out loud. She's insulted. She removes the rifle on her shoulder and lays down behind the Boys Gun. MITCHELL Careful with that. SAMIRA I've handled much bigger, Sergeant. She sights the weapon downrange. SAMIRA Mark One Boys gun. Anti tank rifle. Named for its designer. A British infantry officer. She places the rifle butt to her shoulder. SAMIRA Armor penetration. Twenty one millimeters at three hundred meters. She pulls the cocking handle. FLICKS off the safety. SAMIRA Outclassed by the PIAT rocket launcher. Although still effective at killing tanks. She pulls the trigger. A bullet BLASTS from the muzzle. A TARGET EXPLODES in a shower of splinters. SAMIRA Turns to Mitchell. His mouth slightly agape. SAMIRA It works better on people. MITCHELL Where did you learn- SAMIRA My Father was a game warden on an English estate. I know about guns. He points to the rifle she brought. Laid down beside her. MITCHELL And that? SAMIRA This is my toy. Mauser K98. Seven nine two millimeter. MITCHELL Any good with it? SAMIRA As good as you. Mitchell smiles. INT. ANDERSON'S TENT - DAY Anderson sits at his desk. Leafing through reports. Making notes. A KNOCK. ANDERSON Enter. Taylor walks in. Salutes. ANDERSON What is it? TAYLOR Some of the lads... Anderson looks up. ANDERSON Yes? Out with it? TAYLOR The rifle range, sir. Anderson's eyes narrow. EXT. EL KUFRA - RIFLE RANGE A group has assembled. Watching Mitchell and Samira. McTavish, Shaw, Currie, Campbell stand together. Chatting. Pritchard stands by himself. Watching intently. Anderson walks up. Taylor follows. ANDERSON What's going on? PRITCHARD We have a bit of a competition here. Pritchard points. Anderson looks over. MITCHELL AND SAMIRA Load their rifles. ANDERSON Turns to Pritchard. ANDERSON Who's winning? PRITCHARD All tied up. A GUNSHOT! Everyone looks over. EXT. RIFLE RANGE - 600 YARD MARK A bullet strikes the target dead center. Perfect shot. MITCHELL Turns to Samira. Smoke curls from the Lee Enfield rifle. She's positioned behind her Mauser. Laying prone beside him. He's impressed with himself. SAMIRA Don't get too cocky, Sergeant. We're just getting started. MITCHELL Seven fifty then. She nods. EXT. RIFLE RANGE - 750 YARD MARK Shots strike a target in rapid succession. PRITCHARD Watches through binoculars. Clearly impressed. He turns to Anderson. PRITCHARD Maybe we should be using her instead? Anderson rolls his eyes. He tugs a coin from his pocket. ANDERSON Double or nothing. Pritchard smiles. PRITCHARD Done. SAMIRA Turns to Mitchell. SAMIRA Eight hundred? MITCHELL Make it a thousand. She nods. Confident. EXT. RIFLE RANGE - A FEW MINUTES LATER Samira prepares to shoot. The target is far off in the distance. One thousand yards away. She takes aim. FIRES! THE BULLET ROARS from the muzzle. Flies at the target. But, the bullet flies wide THE TARGET remains pristine. SAMIRA Removes her eye from the scope. Angry. Mitchell puts his eye to his scope. He smirks. Arrogant. SAMIRA You haven't hit it yet. He removes his eye from the scope. Looks at her. MITCHELL It's not enough believing you can make the shot. Mitchell takes aim without using the scope. He smiles. Breathes deeply. Pulls the trigger. BLAM! A BULLET ZIPS neatly through the target. Center of the forehead. A perfect kill shot. He looks at her. MITCHELL You have to know it. SAMIRA Luck. Mitchell smiles. Without looking through the scope, he pulls the trigger. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Bullets strike THE TARGET Over and over again. All perfect kill shots. MCTAVISH Looks on. Disbeliving. PRITCHARD Hands a coin to a grinning Anderson. MITCHELL Turns to Samira. MITCHELL You're impressed. I can tell. She blushes. SAMIRA Only a little. She gets up to leave. Slinging her rifle on her shoulder. MITCHELL You're going. Just like that? SAMIRA I've seen what I needed to see. Besides, I think you've been in the desert for too long. You have this odd look on your face. Mitchell gets up. They stand face to face. Very close. MITCHELL What kind of look? SAMIRA Like you're the one who's impressed. Mitchell smirks. She turns. Walks away. INT. EL KUFRA - MESS TENT - DAY The CLICKITY CLACK of a film projector fills the room. Gray smoke twists into the air from the lengthy ash of a cigarette. There's several tables. Cafeteria style. Anderson sits at one. Smoking the cigarette. Intently watching black and white images of German Soldiers on the screen. Rommel appears in tight close up. A moment later, the film ends and the room becomes pitch dark. Standing at the rear of the tent, near the projector is PRIVATE. PRIVATE Again sir? Anderson crushes the cigarette on the floor. ANDERSON No. We're ready. Glass CLINK! INT. EL KUFRA - MESS TENT - NIGHT A loud, boisterous party is in full swing. Lots of laughter. Music plays. Lots of booze and food. The Commandos are seated at tables. Remnants of a hearty meal before them. Anderson, Pritchard and Taylor sit at the head table. Samira off to one side. McTavish, Shaw, Campbell and Currie at another. All drinking and laughing. Steiner, Fuchs and the other members of the SIG Team sit at a table for themselves. More sedate. Mitchell sits near the back of the room. By himself. Anderson stands. The Commandos cheer. Except for Mitchell and Samira. Anderson holds up his hand. The room falls SILENT. ANDERSON Tomorrow, we set out for Tobruk. Another step on this journey. To victory. And home. A journey, for some that ends too early. He raises a mug. ANDERSON A toast. To friends we've left behind. Mugs CLINK together. The Commandos break into a rousing, semi-drunk version of "God Save The King." Mitchell's suddenly annoyed. Gets up and leaves. Nobody notices. But, Samira does. Quickly, she slips out. Following. EXT. EL KUFRA - OASIS - NIGHT Water TRICKLES slowly along a brook. Peaceful. Palm trees sway calmly in the breeze. Mitchell sits on the bank. Staring into the clear water. Looking at himself in the reflection. Samira walks up. Pauses. Wondering if she should interrupt. MITCHELL I keep going over it. In my head. I keep seeing it. Mitchell's upset. MITCHELL I don't know why. I just couldn't move. She sits down beside him. SAMIRA I'm sorry. A beat. Then MITCHELL Who's Jack? SAMIRA What? MITCHELL When I pulled you from the plane. You said a name. Jack. SAMIRA Oh. Mitchell's waiting for an answer. SAMIRA Jack was my husband. He's dead. MITCHELL Sorry. What happened to him? SAMIRA I don't know. He died on a mission like this one. They never tell you. MITCHELL Maybe it's better not knowing. SAMIRA No. It's not. Tears well up in her eyes and she bites her lower lip. Not a drop rolls down her cheek. She won't allow it. Mitchell notices. Uncomfortable, he stands. MITCHELL You should be left alone. She smiles. Sniffs. Wipes her eyes. SAMIRA Mitchell? She stands up. Touches his arm. SAMIRA What's your name? Your first name? MITCHELL William. SAMIRA William. I like that name. She looks at him. Deeply into his eyes. SAMIRA William. I'm alone all the time. Tenderly, they look at one another. Suddenly, they realize she's still touching his arm. INT. SAMIRA'S TENT A kettle WHISTLES. It's pretty spartan living. A lone cot. A foot locker. A curtained off section doubles for a small kitchen space. Samira putters around. Mitchell sits on some decorative pillows arranged on the floor. MITCHELL You were saying about your father? SAMIRA (O.S.) Yes. He served here during the Great War. He met my Mother here. When it was over, he took her home. MITCHELL Romantic. Samira appears from behind the curtain. SAMIRA She thought so. She carries a tray with a pot and two glasses. MITCHELL What's this? She places the tray between them. SAMIRA Old Bedouin custom. She pours a glass full of a dark, steaming liquid. SAMIRA It's coffee. She raises the glass. SAMIRA This is the El Heif. The first cup. She blows on it for a moment. Then, drinks. She hands him the glass. SAMIRA This is the El Keif. For the guest. You pour. He pours the coffee and raises the glass to his lips. He drinks. Smiles. MITCHELL It's good. He hands her the empty glass. SAMIRA The last cup. The El Dheif. To show my generosity. I pour. She does. Hands it to Mitchell. Their fingers touch. They look at one another. He drinks it. They keep on looking. Holding each other's stare. MITCHELL Why do you do it? Be a spy, I mean. SAMIRA They killed my husband. MITCHELL Revenge. SAMIRA Yes. Why are you here? MITCHELL I didn't have a choice. SAMIRA There are always choices. She leans closer. Talks softer. SAMIRA What if you were face to face with that man? The one that murdered your troops. Would you kill him? MITCHELL I don't know. If you were face to face with the man that killed your husband, what would you do? SAMIRA Avenge him. (beat) Why else to you carry that disc around? Mitchell's taken aback. MITCHELL What about you? I see that picture MITCHELL beside your bed. She turns. Looks at it for a moment. Looks back to Mitchell. SAMIRA Perhaps you're right. Maybe, we don't have a choice. MITCHELL Then, we have something in common. Samira smiles. So does Mitchell. SAMIRA Yes. We do. She gets up. Walks over. Puts the photograph in a drawer. SAMIRA Tonight, don't think of me as a widow. She walks to the door. Locks it. Undoes her shirt. Nice cleavage. Soft looking, almond colored skin. He stands. She walks toward him and wraps her arms around his neck. He pulls her body close. They kiss. Deep and passionate. Then, hungrily. He kisses her neck and she moans. Excited. EXT. SAMIRA'S TENT Anderson walks through the camp. A little tipsy. Giggling at himself. He stops abruptly. Frozen in place. Through the mosquito netting, Anderson watches Mitchell and Samira kissing. Then, the lights are extinguished and the tent goes dark. He stands there for a moment. Then slowly turns. Walks away. INT. SAMIRA'S TENT - DAY Mitchell cradles Samira. Both sleep on the pillows. A blanket covers them. Mitchell stirs. Sleepily, he looks at his watch. His eyes widen. Instantly awake. He quickly throws off the blanket. Samira wakes. SAMIRA What is it? MITCHELL I'm late. Hurriedly, he puts on his pants and boots. Throws on his shirt. He makes for the door. Stops. Walks back to her. An awkward moment. She reaches up. Kisses him on the cheek. SAMIRA Just go. Just go. He races out the door. Stumbling on the door frame. Samira laughs hysterically as he rushes off. EXT. DESERT - NEAR EL KUFRA - DAY German Soldiers move into position. They stay low. Move fast. Cruwell kneels behind some rocks. Watching through binoculars. Kempka at his side. Making notes. Von Ravenstein crouches nearby. CRUWELL Two pounders. And a pair of six pound cannon. Cruwell lowers the binoculars. Franz walks up. FRANZ Almost ready sir. CRUWELL Approach in forward echelon formation. Punch through the perimeter defenses. Circle behind and attack from the rear. FRANZ Classic wedge and cauldron. CRUWELL (checking his watch) And all before breakfast. Suddenly, a low flying plane RACES overhead. Appearing from nowhere. Heading for El Kufra. FRANZ Where the hell did he come from? CRUWELL Kempka? KEMPKA British Spitfire. Recon variant. CRUWELL (to Franz) Attack immediately. Franz races off. VON RAVENSTEIN Shouldn't we wait for reinforcements? CRUWELL Agent Von Ravenstein. We are the Brandenburg Battalion. We don't need reinforcements. Vehicles ROAR to life in clouds of exhaust. Soldiers ready their weapons for battle and climb aboard. Tank turrets turn as one. Guns pointing at El Kufra. CRUWELL Walks ahead of the tanks. Raises his arm. Then, drops it. The tanks and vehicles surge forward. Cruwell climbs aboard a passing tank. EXT. EL KUFRA - MOTOR POOL Commandos load weapons, ammo and equipment into trucks. Pritchard holds a clipboard. Checking off items. Steiner lashes gasoline cans to a jeep as Anderson walks up. ANDERSON Where's Mitchell? STEINER Haven't seen him sir. Pritchard walks over. PRITCHARD Have you lost him again? ANDERSON No. I haven't lost him again. STEINER (pointing) Here he comes. Mitchell jogs up. Sweaty. Out of breath. Anderson shoots him a nasty look. ANDERSON You're late. MITCHELL Better late than never, sir.
Copyright © 2004 Shaun Goldsmith |