エアフォース・ワン(1997年)

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Air Force One

Andrew Marlow

FADE IN:

INT. C-130 HERCULES TURBO-PROP – NIGHT

Eighteen combat-ready special forces, wearing assault black,
jump packs and combat gear, stare down the deep end of a
greasy ramp into the night sky. Village lights flicker 19,000
feet below.

The STRIKE FORCE LEADER signals to his team.

Without a moment’s hesitation, they dive into the darkness
and plummet toward earth.

EXT. MANSION – NIGHT

A military GUARD, old Soviet-style uniform, rounds the corner
of the large estate toting an AK-47.

A red laser dot appears briefly on his forehead and, after a
beat, the red dot seems to bleed. The Guard collapses dead.
Two other GUARDS are dispatched with single, silenced shots.

A Strike Team member at a junction box awaits a signal.

Through infra-red binoculars the strike Force Leader watches
his assault troops as they take positions.

STRIKE FORCE LEADER
(into headset/in
Russian)
GO!

On the estate – as the power goes out. The team on the
mansion’s front porch pops the door and pours in.

INT. MANSION – NIGHT

FOLLOWING – the FIVE TEAM MEMBERS as they rush a stairway in
phalanx formation. They nearly knock over an old lady, who
in turn lets out a blood curdling scream.

UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR –

The team kicks open a door. Rushes into the room.

INT. BEDROOM –

Assault weapons pointed at the bed. The soldiers yank back
bedsheets to reveal IVAN STRAVANAVITCH, a middle-aged man
and his half-naked 18-year-old concubine.

SOLDIER
(in Russian)
Get up, now! Up!

The soldiers pull Stravanavitch to his feet and haul him out
of the room.

FOLLOWING – As they push down the hallway.

MANSION SECURITY GUARDS rally with haphazard gunfire.

Out come the strike force’s flash-bang grenades. Exploding
everywhere, disorienting Stravanavitch’s men.

EXT. FIELD – NIGHT

Signal flares burn as a helicopter descends on the position.
The Strike Team evacuates across the field and forces a
struggling Stravanavitch into the low-hovering copter.

The commandos swiftly board the craft as a handful of
Stravanavitch’s guards break into the clearing. They open
fire.

And the mounted machine guns on the helicopter return.

One of the Strike Team members takes a bullet to the neck.
He’s’ pulled by his comrades into the chopper as it lifts
into the sky, its guns spitting lead…

STRIKE FORCE LEADER (V.0.)

Archangel, this is Restitution.

Archangel, this is Restitution. The package is wrapped.
Over.

VOICE (V.0. RADIO)
Roger, Restitution. We are standing
by for delivery.

FADE TO BLACK
The SOUNDS of a dinner banquet.
Forks clanking against plates and
the din of a hundred conversations,
broken by…

The DING, DING, DING of a SPOON tapping against a wine glass.

SUPER TITLE: “MOSCOW – THREE WEEKS LATER

FADE IN:

INT. BANQUET ROOM – NIGHT

Hundreds of men and women in formal evening wear sit at round
banquet tables. A HUSH falls over the guests as the DINGING
continues. All attention turns to the front table.

A rotund, silver haired-man in his late sixties rises and
sidles past U.S. and Russian flags up to the podium
microphone. He is STOLI PETROV, President of Russia.

PETROV
(in Russian)
Thank you for joining us this evening.

Petrov’s harsh Russian issues through the room. But over it
we hear a young woman’s voice translating.

TRANSLATOR (V.0.)
Tonight we are honored to have with
us a man of remarkable courage, who,
despite strong international
criticism…

AT THE FRONT TABLE –

A translator’s words ring in the earpiece of a handsome man
in his mid-forties. Worry lines crease his forehead and the
touch of gray at his temples attest to three very difficult
years in office.

This man is JAMES MARSHALL, and he is the PRESIDENT of the
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. He busily makes last minute changes
to his speech.

TRANSLATOR
(V.0. earpiece)
Has chosen to join our fight against
tyranny in forging a new world
community. Ladies and gentlemen, I
give you the President of the United
States of America…

Mr. President.

Thunderous applause as Marshall rises and approaches the
podium.

At the back of the room, DOHERTY, a senior policy adviser
whispers to the President’s Chief of Staff ED SHEPHERD…

DOHERTY
Maybe we should consider running him
for re-election instead of the U.S.

The applause dies as Marshall begins to speak.

MARSHALL
(in Russian with
subtitles)
Good evening and thank you. First I
would ask you to join me in a moment
of silence for the victims of the
Turkmenistan massacres.

The room remains silent a few beats. Most guests respectfully
bow their heads.

Marshall begins again, but this time in English. The young
woman translates simultaneously for the Russian audience.

MARSHALL
As you know, three weeks ago American
Special Forces, in cooperation with
the Russian Republican Army, secured
the arrest of Turkmenistan’s self-
proclaimed dictator, General Ivan
Stravanavitch, whose brutal sadistic
reign had given new meaning to the
word horror. I am proud to say our
operation was a success.

Applause from the audience. Marshall turns the page on his
speech.

MARSHALL
And now, yesterday’s biggest threat
to world peace… today awaits trial
for crimes against humanity.

During the applause, Marshall pulls a page from the speech,
folds it and slides it into his pocket. He removes his
glasses and looks out into the crowd. His tone becomes more
personal.

He’s not reciting the speech anymore.

MARSHALL
What we did here was important. We
finally pulled our heads out of the
sand, we finally stood up to the
brutality and said “We’ve had enough.
Every time we ignore these atrocities–
the rapes, the death squads, the
genocides- every time we negotiate
with these, these thugs to keep them
out of gig country and away from gig
families, every time we do thiS.E.
we legitimize terror.

Terror is not a legitimate system of government. And to
those who commit the atrocities I say, we will no longer
tolerate, we will no longer negotiate, and we will no longer
be afraid. It’s your turn to be afraid.

Applause rolls through the crowd.

EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – NIGHT

Sprawling terminals spread out to runways like tentacles.

ON THE TARMAC –

Bathed in floodlights, perched majestically on the runway,
dwarfing nearby commuter and military jets, stands…

AIR FORCE ONE
The President’s own Boeing 747-200,
dubbed “the flying White House”.
The distinctive royal blue stripe
over a thin gold line tapers to a
tail adorned with the American flag
and the Presidential Seal Secret
Service agents and Marines stand
guard at the aircraft’s perimeter.

A RUSSIAN NEWS VAN emerges from the darkness and pulls to a
stop by a Secret Service barricade.

SPECIAL AGENT GIBBS greets the Russian news team that emerges.

GIBBS
Gentlemen, welcome to Air Force One.

Please present your equipment to Special Agent Walters for
inspection.

The news team’s segment producer, a crusty old Russian named
KORSHUNOV raises his big bushy eyebrows.

KORSHUNOV
We’ve already been inspected.

GIBBS
Sir, this plane carries the President
of the United States.

Though we wish to extend your press service every courtesy,
you will comply with our security measures to the letter.

KORSHUNOV
Of course. I’m sorry.

Korshunov and the FIVE MEMBERS of his news crew present their
video cameras, sound equipment and supplies to Special Agent
WALTERS for inspection. Secret Service DOGS sniff through
the baggage.

GIBBS
Please place your thumbs on the ID
pad.

Korshunov puts his thumb on the ID pad of a portable computer.

The computer matches up his thumbprint with his dossier and
photograph. “CLEARED” flashes on the computer screen.

INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT

The President, walking with his entourage.

SHEPHERD
* CBS said they’ll
give us four minutes. They thought
the Russian was a nice touch.

MARSHALL
I always wondered if my freshman
Russian class would come in handy.

DOHERTY
Sir, you threw out page two.

MARSHALL
Goddamn right I did. I asked for a
tough-as-nails speech and you gave
me diplomatic bullshit. What’s the
point in having a speech if I have
to ad-lib?

DOHERTY
It was a good ad-lib, sir.

MARSHALL
Thanks. Wrote it last night.

The President exits the building and enters his limousine.

EXT. TARMAC – AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Walters hands the bags back to the Russians.

WALTERS
Equipment checks out.

A striking woman in her early thirties descends Air Force
One’s stairway. MARIA MITCHELL.

GIBBS
Gentlemen, this is Maria Mitchell.

Press Relations for the Presidential Flight Office. She’ll
take you from here.

KORSHUNOV
Ms. Mitchell. So nice to finally
meet you in person.

MITCHELL
The President and I were delighted
that we could accommodate you. Now
if you’re all cleared?
(Gibbs nods)
You can follow me then.

They ascend into the belly of Air Force One.

MITCHELL
* I’ll be giving
you a brief tour, then during the
flight, two members of your crew
will be allowed out of the press
area at a time for filming. You
will have exactly ten minutes with
the President and twenty with the
crew…

EXT. STREETS OF MOSCOW, PRESIDENT’S MOTORCADE – NIGHT

Winding its way down narrow cobblestone streets onto a major
thoroughfare.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL LIMOUSINE – NIGHT

The limousine is packed with advisers, aides, military staff,
including LT. COL. PERKINS, the keeper of the NUCLEAR FOOTBALL
handcuffed to his wrist. In the b.g. on the limo’s television
set, the LARRY KING SHOW indulges in its normal banter.

Marshall wearily rubs his temples as he stifles a yawn.

SHEPHERD
You wanna knock of f?

MARSHALL
No, no. I’m fine. What did the
Speaker say?

SHEPHERD
He and the NRA don’t like the wording.

DOHERTY
Apparently taking uzis away from
sixth graders isn’t as popular as we
thought it’d be. Representative
Taylor is working on a compromise.

MARSHALL
Put together a score sheet. I’ll
make some calls.

SHEPHERD
With all due respect, sir, maybe you
should give them this one. Your
numbers are still pretty low and you
called in a lot of chips to nail
Stravanavitch.

MARSHALL
I might still have a few chips left.

SHEPHERD
* We could always
put you in a duck blind with a twelve
gauge. The second amendment types’ll
love that.

MARSHALL
This is a crime bill, Shep. Killing
a couple ducks won’t get it through
committee. Besides, Shep, I told
you… I don’t shoot babies and I
don’t kiss guns.

SHEPHERD
Other way around, sir.

MARSHALL
(realizing what he
said)
Right… Christ I’m tired. Do me a
favor and keep me away from the press.

Marshall’s watch alarm beeps and he automatically reaches
into his breast pocket, pulls out a medicine vial and downs
two pills with a coffee chaser.

On the T.V.

LARRY KING (T.V.)
… and your reaction to the
President’s trip to Moscow. Good or
bad?

Shepherd turns up the volume.

SHEPHERD
This is the part I wanted you to
see.

REP. DANFORTH (T.V.)
Criminal. One of our boys died in
Marshall’s little publicity stunt
and for what? So we could claim
victory over another country’s
problems instead of our own? And
now he’s got the nerve to prance
around Moscow gloating, while that
poor boy’s family is left to bury
him. If I were Marshall, I’d be
ashamed of myself.

LARRY KING
There you have it. Harsh words for
the President from Michael Danforth,
the Speaker of the House.

Marshall mutes the television. A quiet moment.

SHEPHERD
* My opinion.
We can’t let him get away with that
kind of language.

Marshall considers. Then decides.

MARSHALL
It’s bait. Don’t take it.

SHEPHERD
Sir, the Speaker of the House attacked
this administration on national
television. You can’t afford to
leave that hanging.

MARSHALL
(ignoring Shepherd)
Did we tape the Duke game?

AIDE
It’s waiting on the plane. The ending
was pretty…

MARSHALL
(interrupting)
Please don’t tell me. Just for once,
* let me be
surprised.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, CORRIDOR, TRAVELING – NIGHT

Maria Mitchell escorts the Russians down the plane’s length.
As they pass the galley, Maria motions up a set of stairs.

MITCHELL
Up on the upper deck is the cockpit
and the Mission Communication Center.
The MCC, as we call it, can place
clear and secure phone calls to
anywhere on earth. We’re linked to
a network of military and civilian
satellites and ground stations. We
could run the country or run a war
from there if we had to.

KORSHUNOV
This is a remarkable aircraft.

MITCHELL
You don’t know the half of it. Did
you know this entire plane is shielded
from radiation? We could fly through
a mushroom cloud completely unharmed
if necessary.

KORSHUNOV
A dubious distinction, no?

MITCHELL
I guess it depends on your
perspective.

They walk by several conference rooms, running down the
starboard side of the plane.

KORSHUNOV
And all these rooms here?

MITCHELL
Conference rooms, though some have
other functions. The one up front
doubles as an emergency medical
center.

Past the conference rooms, they walk by a small side room
where SECRETARIES work on computers, generating documents.

MITCHELL
As you can see, back here’s more
like a regular plane. Security and
Secret Service take this cabin.
You’ll be in the rear with the press
pool.

The REAR PRESS CABIN, just ahead of the rear galley and bank
of bathrooms. A handful of disgruntled reporters feign sleep.

MITCHELL
Here’s a press kit. I’ll let you
guys get comfortable and once we’re
airborne I’ll be able to schedule
the interviews.

KORSHUNOV
Thank you.

Mitchell exits forward. One of the reporters stirs and looks
up at the news team. He groans. Space is a premium back
here.

REPORTER
You fellas win some sort of fly-with-
POTUS contest?

KORSHUNOV
Potus? What is Potus?

REPORTER
P.O.T.U.S. President Of The United
States.

KORSHUNOV
Ah, no. We won nothing. We are
ITAR-TASS news service.

REPORTER
Right. Listen, this here… This is
my row. You’ll have to sit over
there.

Korshunov trades looks with his news team.

EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – NIGHT

The President’s motorcade pulls up in front of Air Force
One.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

The President and his entourage ascend from the lower deck
platform onto the main deck. COL. DANIEL AXELROD, Air Force
One’s pilot, snaps off a salute as he passes.

COL. AXELROD
Welcome aboard, Mr. President.

MARSHALL
(returns salute)
Hey Danny. How’s it look tonight?

COL. AXELROD
Glassy, sir. Care to take the wheel?

MARSHALL
You keep offering, one of these days
I’ll take you up on it.
(to no one in
particular)
Rose and Alice back yet?

AIDE
No, Mr. President. The ballet ran
late. Their ETA is seventeen minutes.

Marshall nods as he pulls off his bow tie and enters his
stateroom. Shepherd follows two steps behind.

SHEPHERD
Mr. President?

Marshall halts Shepherd with a gesture.

MARSHALL
Thirty seconds.

Shepherd nods and waits by the door. Lt. Col. Perkins takes
a seat outside the Presidents stateroom and opens the latest
Tom Clancy thriller, using the nuclear football as a lap
desk.

INT. PRESIDENT’S STATEROOM – NIGHT

Marshall collapses on the couch, rubs his eyes, then closes
them. A moment of peace in a breakneck day.

The knock at the door jars him.

MARSHALL
Yes.

Shepherd enters.

SHEPHERD
Can I at least issue a press release
objecting to the Speaker’s choice of
wording?

President Marshall picks up one of the many phones in his
office.

MARSHALL
I said it’s not worth the fight.
(into phone)
Steward, please.

SHEPHERD
We’ll just say it was in bad taste.

* MARSHALL

Forget it, Shep. The kid gave his life for his country and
the

Speaker’s a bastard for turning him into a sound bite. I’ll
take the heat. Understood?

SHEPHERD
You give me ulcers.

MARSHALL
That’s my job.

A STEWARD enters the room.

STEWARD
Mr. President?

MARSHALL
Hey Mike. Could you get me a
Heineken?

SHEPHERD
No, wait. Get him one of the Russian
beers.

The steward nods and disappears from the room.

SHEPHERD
We’ve got those Russian news guys on
board and it’ll look good in the
papers.

Marshall picks up a stack of policy reports. Thumbs through
them.

MARSHALL
C’mon Shep. I’ve been eating borscht
and drinking vodka for days. Isn’t
that enough?
(off paper)
New home starts are down.

The steward arrives with the Russian beer. Marshall takes a
swig. He swallows hard. Piss-water. Marshall crosses to
his sink and pours the beer out. He hands the bottle to the
steward.

MARSHALL
Fill this with Heineken.

The steward nods…

STEWARD
Yes, Mr. President.

AND SLINKS AWAY WITH THE BOTTLE. MARSHALL CATCHES HIMSELF —

MARSHALL
I don’t believe this. I’m playing
politics with a bottle of beer. A
goddamn bottle of beer. I’ve been
in office too long.

SHEPHERD
Look on the bright side… if the
polls don’t change, you won’t have
that problem, sir.

Marshall picks up the phone again.

MARSHALL
Yeah. Put the Duke game on in my
room.

INT. AFO’S MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER – NIGHT

THREE Air Force SPECIALISTS man the elaborate communication
system occupying much of the upper deck. Top-of-the-line
computers, communication systems, video decks, and satellite
receivers.

AIR FORCE SPECIALIST
Yes, Mr. President.

He slides in a videotape and channels the feed to the *
president’s stateroom.

INT. PRESIDENT’S STATEROOM – NIGHT

A monitor comes to life with a basketball game.

MARSHALL
(to Shepherd)
Defense and State Department in the
conference room in one hour. I want
to review the Iraq situation.

SHEPHERD
Yes, sir.

Shepherd exits as Marshall settles into his leather chair
and dives into work. He punches a button on the speakerphone.

MARSHALL
Get me the Housing Secretary…

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

The Marine Guards snap to attention once again as the First
Lady’s motorcade arrives.

ROSE MARSHALL, a self-assured woman with an aristocratic
gleam, alights from her limo. She takes a few steps, then
turns, tapping her foot impatiently.

ROSE
C’mon Alice, we’re 20 minutes late.

Your father’s gonna have a fit.

ALICE, the President’s 13-year-old daughter, straggles out
of the car, rolling her eyes.

ALICE
It’s not like he hasn’t made us wait
a few times.

ROSE
Well, you aren’t the President, dear.

ALICE
Yeah, no duh.

INT. MAIN DECK, AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

As the First Lady’s entourage enters.

ROSE
Why don’t you go say hi?

Again, Alice rolls her eyes.

ROSE
What is wrong with you tonight?
Come here.

Rose pulls Alice aside.

ROSE
You don’t want to say hi to your
father?

ALICE
I’m sure he’s busy.

ROSE
Don’t you even want to ask?

Alice toes her foot into the carpet as she releases an
exasperated sigh. She is, in this moment, the patron saint
of know-it-all 13-year-old girls. Alice waves toward the
Presidential Suite.

ALICE
If I go over there to say hi to daddy
President, Mike’s going to tell me
he’s in a meeting and can’t be
disturbed. Then when the plane starts
to taxi, he’ll come out and say “Hey,
are you guys back? Did you enjoy
the ballet?” But he’ll be on his
way to another meeting and won’t
wait for an answer. Then you’ll get
pissed at him and he’ll get pissed
at you. It’s like you guys rehearse
or something.

With the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, Alice

Collapses into one of the many leather chairs. It seems to
swallow her. JORY, a steward passes.

ALICE
Hey Joey, how `bout a cocoa, double
whip cream.

ROSE
Alice…

ALICE
Mom, just this once, give it a rest.

ROSE
You’re jet-lagged. We’ll talk about
this back…

ALICE
Back at The Fishbowl?

Alice eyes the swirl of Aides who are pretending to work
nearby.

But it’s obvious that they’re eavesdropping. Alice smiles
and waves at them dramatically.

ROSE
We’ll talk at home.
(beat)
You know, most girls aren’t as lucky
as you. For most girls seeing the
Bolshoi ballet would be the experience
of a lifetime.

ALICE
I know, Mom.
(sees the hurt in her
mom’s eyes and softens)
It was great… really.

Rose nods, smiling a half-smile. After a thoughtful beat,
Alice gets up and crosses to the Presidential suite. She
exchanges words with the Aide standing outside the door and
comes back, covering her disappointment.

ALICE
He’s in a meeting. He can’t be
disturbed.

ROSE
I’m sorry, honey.

ALICE
No, it’s okay. After all, he is the
President, right?

Joey the steward hands her her cocoa with a wink and a smile.

Her eyes light up at the mound of whip cream on top.

ALICE
When I write my memoirs I think I’ll
devote an entire chapter to the cocoa
aboard Air Force One.

ROSE
Your father never means to be so…

ALICE
I know…
(beat)
But lotsa times I feel like it’s me
versus the world. Some kid at school
teases me and the same day a plague
breaks out in Bangladesh. I mean it
doesn’t take a genius to figure which
is more important.

ROSE
Some kids were teasing you?

ALICE
That’s not really the point.

A quiet pause, then…

ROSE
You’re right and I’ll tell you a
secret. I know exactly how you feel.

ALICE
Big secret. You said the same thing
to Newsweek.

The plane jolts forward as it begins to taxi.

ALICE
We’re taxiing. Ready. And… five…
four… three.. two… one… Cue
Daddy.

Alice points. And as if on cue, Marshall exits from his
office and checks his watch.

ALICE
Oooooh, I’m good.

MARSHALL
Hey, you guys back already?

Alice nods.

MARSHALL
How was…
(thinks, then remembers)
…the ballet?

ALICE
(theatrically)
It was the experience of a lifetime.

MARSHALL
How `bout a hug for the old man.

Alice rises and hugs her father. A White House PHOTOGRAPHER
snaps off a few shots for the papers. Alice makes a face at
them. A second later, Shepherd comes up the corridor,
breaking up the pair.

SHEPHERD
Mr. President… they’re ready for
you in the conference room.

MARSHALL
Okay. Hey, pumpkin, you’ll tell me
all about it later, right?

ALICE
Sure.

As Marshall moves toward the conference room, he bends and
gives Rose a quick peck on the cheek. It all reeks of
formality.

ROSE
May I speak to you for a moment?

MARSHALL
Can’t it wait?

ROSE
No, Mr. President. It can’t.

INT. PRESIDENT’S OFFICE.

Rose shuts the door behind them. As she starts to speak,
Marshall pulls her into a long passionate kiss. Rose pulls
away.

ROSE
Don’t. I know spin control when I
feel it.

MARSHALL
Rose, I don’t have time for this.

I’ve gotta go stop a war.

ROSE
For godsakes, Jim, slow down and
stop acting like the little dutch
boy. Not even you can plug all the
world’s leaks. Don’t you think it’s
a sign you’re pushing too hard when
your daughter sees more of you on
MTV news than in person.

MARSHALL
She’s a big girl. She understands.

ROSE
How do you know she understands?
You haven’t spent more than five
minutes with her, or me, in weeks.

MARSHALL
And when have I had five minutes?
When I wake up in the morning and
I’m already three hours behind
Schedule. What do you want me to
do, Rose, tell the G7 to fuck off
because I’m a family man?

(BEAT)
I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.

ROSE
No. It wasn’t.

He takes her in his arms.

MARSHALL
You know what?

ROSE
What?

MARSHALL
I miss you. And I miss her.

ROSE
But that’s the point, Jim. We’re
right here.

MARSHALL
I wish it were that easy…

Long beat. He smiles at her, it’s the same sweet smile that
won her heart, the same smile that got him elected. She
softens.

MARSHALL
I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

ROSE
I should trust that promise? Because
you know the voters are still waiting
for that middle class tax cut.

MARSHALL
This promise isn’t subject to
Congressional approval.

She smiles. The tension breaks.

ROSE
How did your speech go?

MARSHALL
Well, they aren’t burning me in
effigy. That’s always a good sign.

They kiss again, this time for real. But… a knock on the
door.

SHEPHERD (0.5.)
Mr. President.

Shepherd opens the door.

MARSHALL
Look on the bright side, hon. Shep
here thinks I’ll be a one termer.

ROSE
Shall I ask the Chief of Staff to
schedule your daughter in?

SHEPHERD
She is scheduled. Her school play’s
Tuesday night.

Rose rolls her eyes.

MARSHALL
The First Lady was making a joke,
Shep. I’ll make some time, Rose. I
promise.

Marshall heads for his meeting.

EXT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

Col. Axelrod and his co-pilot LT. COL. ARTHUR INGRAHAMS are
at the wheel.

RUSSIAN AIR TRAFFIC (V.0)

(THICK ACCENT)
United States Air Force One, this is
tower. It’s an honor to clear you
for immediate take-off on runway
three.

COL. AXELROD
Roger, Tower. And thank you for the
hospitality.

Axeirod eases up the throttle and the four GE-F103 Turbofan
engines spring to life.

EXT. RUNWAY – NIGHT

A picture perfect take-off as Air Force One slides through
the moonlight and skates upward on a sheet of air.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE, FLYING – AN HOUR LATER

Airborne in the midnight sky.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, GALLEY – NIGHT

Aircraft engines drone.

CLOSE ON – A coffee pot pouring piping joe into a mug
emblazoned with ubiguitou Presidential Seal. The mug is placed
on a tray with a half-dozen other mugs and passed to a STEW.
He carries the tray down the corridor past passenger cabins.

Drowsiness has overtaken the plane. Many of the passengers
and aides are asleep. CNN plays On T.V. sets, entertaining
the few night owls and news junkies.

CNN REPORTER (T.V.)
In an unusually aggressive speech,
the President characterized the
Stravanavitch regime as thugs whose
brutality will no longer be tolerated.
Meanwhile, in Turkmenistan,
Stravanavitch’s ouster has sent the
country into turmoil. Tens of
thousands of refugees continue to
huddle in U.N. safe havens, as rival
Stravanavitch loyalists fight among
themselves for control. But at least
for the time being, the ethnic
cleansing has been stopped.

Toward the front of the plane, the steward enters the
conference room.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

As the steward closes the door behind him, all background
noise disappears. We are in a sound shielded room. Even the
engines’ drone cannot be heard.

The lights in the room are dim as MAJOR CALDWELL, a military
advisor, projects satellite photos of Iraqi military bases
onto a screen.

The steward serves coffee as unobtrusively as he can while
the meeting continues.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Our KH-ll’s took this one at 0100
hours. What you see here is the
mobilization of two mechanized
brigades.

MARSHALL
They’ve gotta be joking.

DOHERTY
The Iraqi ambassador is claiming
it’s just an exercise.

MARSHALL
An exercise in futility. Send the
Nimitz back in.

MAJOR CALDWELL
The northern border’s gotten a bit
hairy. Their MiGs are playing tag
with our Tomcats and our boys are
just itching to engage.

MARSHALL
Tell our boys to cool their jets. I
don’t need `em creating policy for
me.

We follow the steward as he slips out of the conference room
and back into the…

INT. CORRIDOR – NIGHT

with a few coffees left on his tray. One of them is scooped
up by Gibbs as he passes, his nose is buried in a fax.

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN – NIGHT

Gibbs leans in the cabin.

GIBBS
Hey Walters, you and Johnson come
here a second. Reykjavik just sent
the advance team report.

Special Agents Walters and JOHNSON rise and follow Gibbs
into an adjoining office.

INT. OFFICE – CONTINUOUS

Gibbs closes the door behind the two agents. As Walters and
Johnson take their seats, Gibbs WITHDRAWS HIS WEAPON and…

SHOOTS each of the agents in THE BACK OF THE HEAD.

Silenced pistol. Blood all over the desk. Gibbs removes each
of the agent’s weapons and slips them into his waistband. He
waits a few beats, takes a long sip of coffee, then exits
the office.

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN – NIGHT

As he passes through the cabin he takes a silent inventory.
Five other agents working, sleeping, on the phone.

INT. PRESS CABIN – NIGHT

Gibbs nods to Korshunov. Korshunov nods one of his men.
NEVSKY removes one of his videotapes, pops the front cover
exposing the tape. Across the face of the tape is a thin
strip of a rubbery substance. Nevsky pulls the strip up and
out, making a kind of fuse. He reaches for a pack of
matches… courtesy matches, sporting the Seal of the
President.

Nevsky nods and lights the fuse.

IN A RAPID SUCCESSION –

GIBBS tosses his two extra weapons to Korshunov’s men, pivots
the corner and begins firing at his colleagues. The SECRET
SERVICE AGENTS try to get at their weapons, but Gibbs has
caught them completely off-guard.

Several silenced central nervous system shots (head and neck)
and the five agents slump back, their red blood cascading
down the creases of the fine Corinthian leather chairs.

Nevsky tosses the cassette up the corridor… smoke pours
out of it. Smoke screen.

BAZYLEV and ZEDECK catch the guns Gibbs tossed and hold them
on the reporters.

BAZYLEV
UP! GET UP NOW!

Bazylev grabs the stunned reporters, yanking them into the
aisle.

BAZYLEV
Walk in front of us. Go! Go! Go!

Human shields. A half dozen of them.

Behind the terrorists, one of the bathroom doors swings open.
A SECRET SERVICE AGENT emerges. Sees what’s happening. Reaches
for his gun. ZEDECK fells him with a well placed unsilenced
GUN SHOT. SCREAMS ensue…

INT. FORWARD CABIN – NIGHT

A sleeping SECRET SERVICE AGENT bolts upright. HEARS MORE
SHOTS.

He springs up and moves toward the gunshots, his weapon drawn.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
SHOTS FIRED! SECURE BOY SCOUT!
(screaming out and
into his lapel mike)
SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN – NIGHT

Bazylev and Zedeck lay down a suppressing fire outside the
door.

GIBBS
Come on! Quickly.

Korshunov, Nevsky and VLAD follow Gibbs into the Secret
Service office. Gibbs opens a locker and pulls out a stash
of MP5 automatic assault rifles and bullet-proof vests.

Korshunov raises his bushy eyebrows in delight.

GIBBS
The Secret Service believes in being
prepared for any eventuality.

INT. CORRIDOR – NIGHT

The Secret Service agent fights his way through the smoke to
a wall panel. Punches a red buttoned intercom.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE’S FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

A red light on the security panel lights up…

SECRET SERVICE AGENT (V.0.)
We have a code red, I repeat, code
red. Shots fired onboard.

Cot. AXELROD Cabin/Flight Deck: Code Red Acknowledged…
Shit.

LT. CCL. INGRAHAMS
(into headset
microphone)
Warsaw tower this is Air Force One.
Declaring Emergency.

Axelrod toggles his headset to secure line.

COL. AXELROD
Ranstein Air Base, this is Air Force
One Heavy. We have a code red. Shots
fired onboard, request priority
redirect. Please acknowledge.

INT. RAMSTEIN AIR BASE, AIR TRAFFIC CONTHOL TOWER – NIGHT

SUPER – “RAMSTEIN AIR BASE, GERMANY”

Hunched over a control terminal, the AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER
tracks Air Force One’s radar image.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
Fuck me. GO WAKE THE GENERAL. NOW!

The WATCH OFFICER springs into action, picking up a phone.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
Air Force One Heavy, acknowledged.
You are on our scope. Please state
fuel remaining and souls onboard.

COL. AXELROD (RADIO)
Sixty seven souls onboard, we’re
okay with fuel. Request secure
military escort with emergency medical
standing by.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
Air Force One Heavy, acknowledged.
We are scrambling our fighters.

The controller hits a red button on his console. Sirens flare
up and klaxons wail across the base.

The controller looks down to his runways. In the light of
the moon he sees a half-dozen men rushing toward F-15 Eagles.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLLR
Call Berlin Tower. Not a plane lands
or takes off within two hundred miles!
Understood?

The once sleepy midnight control room cranks into full crisis
mode.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Pandemonium. GUNFIRE pops in the b.g. Air Force Specialists
try to get the word out.

AIR FORCE SPECIALIST

A.F. SPECIALIST #2

General Greely? No sir, Interrupt her. This is this
is Air Force One. We Air Force One with an have a
code red. Shots emergency call. have been fired.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

The conference room door bursts open and TWO SECRET SERVICE
AGENTS, weapons drawn, enter the room and run to Marshall.

The once quiet room floods with light. The sounds of a
gunfight and a blanket of smoke sweeps into the cabin.

MARSHALL
What’s going on?

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
We’re under attack.

MARSHALL
Where’s my family?

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
We’re handling it, sir.

The agents lift Marshall to his feet, and practically carry
him from the room, leaving the other high ranking officials
to scramble for themselves in a cacophony of shouts.

MARSHALL
The launch codes! Who’s protecting
the football?

FORWARD CORRIDOR –

Perkins, carrying the nuclear football, ducks and weaves his
way down the corridor into the fray. He takes a bullet to
the shoulder, which fells him.

NEAR THE FORWARD GALLEY –

Alice is nearly trampled by agents responding to the gunfire.

One agent grabs her and shoves her into a bathroom.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Don’t open the door!

GUNFIRE pops all around her.

INT. CORRIDOR, REAR CABINS – NIGHT

Smoke, automatic weapons fire. Secret service agents battling
the terrorists. Aides, diplomats, crew and personnel caught
in the crossfire.

ZEDECK
Down! Everybody down.

A spray of weapons fire overhead and everyone hits the floor.

ZEDECK
STAY DOWN, PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND
YOUR HEAD AND YOU WILL NOT BE SHOT!

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER (RADIO)

Air Force One Heavy, you are cleared for priority divert,
all runways are clear.

LT. COL. INGRAHAMS
Warsaw Tower has cleared local
airspace.

COL. AXELROD
Changing course heading to 276 point
five. Dropping to twenty thousand
feet.

Shots can be heard outside.

COL. AXELROD
Ingrahams, make sure that door’s
locked.

LT. COL. INGRAHAMS
Yes sir.

Ingrahams locks the cockpit door.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Air Force One banks into a curve and descends through broken
clouds.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL STATEROOM – NIGHT

The sounds of gunfire have reached the the nose of the plane.

Rose peers out to see what’s the matter. An armed Secret
Service agent runs toward her.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Get back! Get back!

A spray of bullets mows him down. He collapses in the door
frame. Terrified, Rose tries to close the door, but the dead
agent is in the way.

INT. CORRIDOR – NIGHT

Filled with smoke and gunfire. The agents rush the President
behind a forward bulkhead.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
(into mike)
We have Boy Scout, traveling forward.

VOICE (OVER MIKE)
Negative… negative… they’re up
here too.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Roger. We’re going to the chute.

Marshall looks up the hallway toward his stateroom.

MARSHALL
(calling out)
ROSE! ALICE!

DOWN THE CORRIDOR –

Gibbs fires.

HITS – One of the Secret Service agents in the shoulder.
Blood blossoms through his clothes but he winces it off.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Come on, sir.

The Secret Service agents whisk the President to the front
stairwell. They pull up a floor panel, revealing stairs
descending toward the baggage deck.

INT. BATHROOM –

Alice, huddled atop the commode.

MARSHALL (O.S.)
Alice!

ALICE
Daddy…

Alice opens the door and rushes…

INTO THE CORRIDOR…

Tripping and falling over Joey, the steward. His dead eyes
swim in a pool of blood that was his face. Alice screams,
scrambling to her feet.

MID-PLANE CORRIDOR –

Perkins manages to push himself to his feet and stumbles
down the hall into the computer room. Terrorist SERGE spots
the nuclear football dangling from his wrist. He pursues.

INT. COMPUTER ROOM – NIGHT

Hysterical SECRETARIES feverishly dump classified documents
into a shredder, while Perkins struggles to open the black
leather briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.

Bullets tear up the doorknob lock arid SERGE kicks in the
door.

SERGE
Down! Everyone down!

The Fawn Halls hit the floor as gunfire sprays overhead. But
Perkins swings around brandishing his sidearm. He opens fire
on Serge, but the bullets smack harmlessly against the SWAT
vest.

Serge returns fire, ripping up Perkins who collapses over
the shredder, and with his last bit of strength, he dumps
out the briefcase.

Papers containing NUCLE WAR STRATEGIES and MISSILE LAUNCH
CODES slide into the hungry Shredding machine. Perkins manages
a slight smile before he keels over dead, his duty fulfilled.
The shredded remains of the nuclear football rain over his
head like tickertape at a hero’s parade.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The pale moon catches shiny streaks of metal that descend
through the broken clouds. The Squadron of F-15 Eagles drops
into formation around Air Force One.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Gun shots right Outside the cockpit door.

COT. CARLTON (RADIO)
Air Force One, this is Squadron
Commander Canton. You are now under
escort. All airspace has been cleared.

COL. AXELROD
This is Air Force One Heavy. I’m
coming in full throttle. ETA to
Ranstein eight minutes. We’ve got a
war here, sir.

INT. COCKPIT F-LB EAGLE – NIGHT

Encased in a helmet, mask, and visor, Carlton watches the

flashes of gunfire in the dark windows of the plane.

COt. CARLTON Copy. Delta Force has been mobilized.

COT. AXELROD (V.0.)
Roger that.

INT. LOWER DECK OF AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Beneath the main cabin, the Secret Service agents run the
President through the forward baggage compartment and the
lower galley: a large room with compartments, storage freezers
and food preperation tables.

On the far side of the galley, the agents fling open a
hatchway and enter…

A NARROW GANGWAY – running between the lower galley and the
rear baggage hold, flanked on either side by the landing
gear bays.

They duck under wing supports until they come to a mesh
grating.

The uninjured agent lifts the grating revealing an ESCAPE
POD.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Get in!

Marshall freezes.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
Get in, sir.

A second later gunfire rips Up the agent’s face. The new
volley sends Marshall under the cover of a wing strut. The
second agent takes Position and returns fire. He quells the
incoming volley for a moment.

MARSHALL
What about my family?

SECRET SERVICE AGENT #
I have a family, too, sir. Now get
in the fucking pod.

The firing begins again. Marshall struggles with the decision.

SECRET SERVICE AGENT #
Mr. President… MR. PRESIDENT! You
have to do this! The pod, on three.
Ready?

The agent shoves in a fresh clip…

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
One.

MARSHALL
But…

SECRET SERVICE AGENT
(cutting him off)
Two… THREE. GO!

The agent combat-rolls into the open and fires. He advances
down the gangway acting as a shield for the president,
shooting blindly. Marshall watches as he’s hit repeatedly,
but it gives him the time he needs to dive for the pod.

REVERSE ANGLE – VLAD AND NEVSKY

behind the bulkhead. When the agent drops, Nevsky and Viad
rush down the gangway. They arrive at the closed pod just as
it begins to slide on its rails. They let loose dozens of
rounds from their MP55, but the bullets just plink off.

The pod-lock doors slide shut. The President is on his way
to safety.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Small bay doors open in the belly of Air Force One, and a
human sized cannister drops from the bottom, its parachute
Opening instantly.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

A light flashes On the panel.

COT. AXELROD
(into mike)
Ramstein/Air Force One: Emergency
pod has been deployed. I repeat,
emergency pod has been deployed.

RANSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
This is Ramstein. Acknowledged. We
are picking up the homing beacon and
deploying search and rescue.

COT. AXELROD
Copy Ramstein. We are dropping to
five thousand feet, beginning final
approach.

INT. BAGGAGE DECK GANGWAY – NIGHT

ALICE (O.S.)
Daddy? Dad?

Her voice comes closer, filled with choking fear and panic.
She rounds the corner and Nevsky catches her hair with a
vice-tight grip shoving his MP5 into the small of her back.

NEVSKY
Your father has left you behind.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL STATEROOM – NIGHT

Korshunov kicks open the door.

ROSE
NO!

Gunfire from ROSE, who holds the dead secret service agent’s
weapon. She empties the clip at the doorway. Click, click.
No more bullets. Korshunov steps into the room, brandishing
his automatic, smiling. Rose backs against the wall and raises
her hands.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE LAWN – DAY

A Marine helicopte touches down on the greenway. Marines
salute and escort KATHERINE CHANDLER from the chopper’
interior to the South entrance of the White House. She is
the VICE PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MISSION COMNUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Zedeck steps over the three dead Communications Specialists,
on his way to the cockpit door. Tries the door. It’s locked.
He pounds on it.

ZEDECK
Open! Now!

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Through the cockpit window, the glowing landing lights of
Ramstein Base are visible in the distance, cutting a wedge
through the German towns and fields.

Zedeck’s pounding continues.

COT. AXELROD
Ramatein, we are fifteen miles away
on final approach. I’m coming in
fast and will need every inch of
runway.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER (V.0.)

Copy, Air Force One. Wind is twelve knots from the east.
Tactical and emergency are in position.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD – NIGHT

Rescue vehicle sirens gyre in the darkness. A team of black-
faced commandos unload from troop truck. Snipers take position
atop rescue vehicles, barracks, and the control tower.

High-powered rifles with infra-red scopes.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Zedeck aims his MP5 at the flight door. Fires off a dozen
rounds. Nickel sized indentations blossom across the steel
surface.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Dull thuds of bullet impacts.

COT. AXELROD
Let’s get this crate on the ground.

They’re some real good men waiting to help us.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

The plane sprouts landing gear as it descends over the city.

Coming in fast and low.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Gibbs shoves Zedeck aside. Produces a thumb-sized amount of
C-4.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Final approach… the landing strip not far at all.

COL. AXELROD
Almost there.

He raises his flaps. Air speed and altitude drop.

EXT. RAPISTEIN AIR FIELD – NIGHT

Spotters find Air Force One’s navigation lights visible in
the sky, descending from the distant darkness. Followed by
the cluster of F-lSs.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Gibbs rolls out the C-4 like a kid making a snake in pottery
class. He presses it along the door seal.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Altitude decreasing. 300 feet… 200 hundred feet…

The runway coming up to meet them.

EXT. RAMSTEIN AIR FIELD – NIGHT

As the entire airbase collectively holds its breath. Air
Force One’s tires hover 50 feet above the ground… 40 feet…
30…

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Gibbs raises his pistol. Aims at the C-4. Fires. BAM!

INT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

A BLINDING FLASH. The door blows in.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD – NIGHT

The wheels touchdown.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Gibbs and Zedeck storm the cockpit.

RNT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Axeirod gropes at the plane’s controls, trying to retain the
wheel. Gibbs dispatches Axeirod with one shot. Zedek is a
little messier with Ingrahams. But both pilot and co-pilot
slump over their controls.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD – NIGHT

The taxiing Boeing 747 suddenly veers to the right cutting
across runways. Emergency vehicles give chase.

The plane bounces. Is airborne for a second. Touches down
again with a jolt.

INT. CORRIDOR – AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Terrorists lead hostages to the conference room. Everyone is
bounced around, slamming against walls, spilling over chairs.

A MASTER SERGEANT seizes the opportunity and grabs for
Bazylev’s gun, but Bazylev shoots him almost point blank.

BAZYLEV
Keep moving!

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Chaos. Gibbs tries to pull Axelrod off the controls.

GIBBS
Throttle up. Throttle up!

Zedek slams the throttle all the wa up. Spotlights and sirens
swirl outside the cockpit window.

EXT. RMMSTEIN FIELD – NIGHT

The Flying White House careens toward the barracks, then
edges toward a hangar. The jet engines strain to reach full
power.

INT. RAMSTEIN CONTROL TOWER – NIGHT

The controller stares down at the out-of-control plane.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
Aw Fuck. We’re losing it!

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Gibbs pulls Axeirod’s body out of the pilot’s seat. Looks
out the cockpit window and sees…

A C-141 STARLIFTER
in his path. A monstrous plane, every
bit as big as Air Force One. Gibbs
eases back on the wheel and the 747
sluggishly responds, its nose creeping
upward.

GIBBS
Come on.

Adjusts the flaps…

EXT. RAMSTEIN AIRFIELD – NIGHT

Air Force One closes in on the Starlifter. She’s struggling
off

the ground like some injured bird. The straining metal defies
gravity.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

Gibbs senses that he’s too close. He pulls way back on the
stick, risks stalling her out… but the bird responds.

EXT. RAMSTEIN FIELD – NIGHT

Air Force One barely clears the Starlifter, the edge of her
wing just missing the top of the C-141’s tail.

The sharpshooters, the emergency crews, the commandos from
Delta Force… Nothing they can do but watch her rise out.
of sight.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – LATER

Gibbs and Zedeck. Gibbs checks over all the instruments.

GIBBS
Okay, 30,000 feet. Give me my heading.

ZEDECK
Bearing 110 point eight two.

Gibbs banks the plane into a curve, then activates the auto-
pilot.

GIBBS
Call me if something changes.

ZEDECK
That’s it?

GIBBS
To fly a 747 you need to know three
things. How to take of f, how to
land, and how to engage the autopilot.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

SERIES OF SHOTS–

The terrorists, from every corner of the plane, lead the
stunned survivors, hands on heads, to the central conference
room.

As Korshunov walks Rose up the corridor, he meets up with
Gibbs, descending from the upper deck.

KORSHUNOV
The rest of the secret service?

GIBBS
Dead.

KORSHUNOV
How many others killed?

GIBBS
Nine.

KORSHUNOV
Any of us?

Gibbs touches his bulletproof vest.

GIBBS
No damages.

ROSE
Where’s my daughter?

GIBBS
She’s alive, ma’am, for the time
being.

Rose allows herself a half-sob of relief.

ROSE
And my husband?

GIBBS
The secret service did their job,
ma’am. The President is safely off
the plane.
(to Korshunov)
But that still leaves us plenty to
bargain with.

Eyes filled with hatred… Rose SLAPS Gibbs face.

ROSE
Mr. Gibbs. You, of all people…

Gibbs doesn’t react.

GIBBS
Follow me, ma’am.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – DAY

High-tech maps and communications systems line the walls,
surrounding an austere main conference table. Laptop computers
and secure telephones by every seat. Side tables. Tele-type
machines spitting out classified information.

VICE PRESIDENT CHANDLER analyzes the projected course of Air
Force One on the tactical vid-map.

V.P. CHANDLER
We should have the President secure
within minutes. Do we know who these
terrorists are or where they’re going?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff…

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
General Greely says it looks like
the Middle East.

V.P. CHANDLER
Does your office have anything to
add, Mr. Dean?

National Security Advisor WALTER DEAN leans forward.

DEAN
The garners believe that, given the
scenario, there’s an 86% chance that

we’ll be dealing with a hostage situation and not an
assassination attempt. Not much else until there’s more data.

V.P. CHANDLER
If we’re dealing with an airborne
hostage situation what’s our
procedure?

The Under-Secretary of Defense, THOMAS LEE, punches up a
scenario on the lap-top.

LEE
Our only policy assumes the plane is
on the ground. Our hands are
completely tied while they’re in the
air.

V.P. CHANDLER
Okay, Gentlemen, we’ll take no action
until we confirm that the president
is off the plane… Lee, go huddle
with the D.O.D. I want an options
paper on this in 20 minutes.

LEE
Twenty minutes?

V.P. CHANDLER
You heard me.
(points to an aide)
You. Congress and cabinet heads.

The aide nods and picks up a telephone.

AIR FORCE COLONEL
Madame Vice-President?

Chandler turns toward the door. The Colonel enters the room,
holding a black briefcase identical to Perkins’.

V.P. CHANDLER
Yes?

AIR FORCE COLONEL
National Command Authority. All
previous launch codes have been
cancelled. You’re carrying the ball
now.

V.P. CHANDLER
Thank you, Colonel. Have a seat.

EXT. GERMAN FARMLAND – NIGHT

A HUEY, flanked by a pair of APACHES, skims the surface of
wheat fields at maximum velocity.

INT. HUEY COCKPIT – NIGHT

The pilot checks his instruments. He’s honing in on a signal.

EXT. GERMAN FARKD – NIGHT

The swirling spotlights of the Apaches finally illuminate
the Seal of the President atop the EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT POD.

The Huey drops in for a landing and a half dozen Army Rangers
in full combat gear deploy to the pod. They open it.

But………

IT’S EMPTY.

INT. BAGGAGE DECK GANGWAY – NIGHT

Bruised and battered, some blood smeared across his tuxedo
shirt… PRESIDENT JAMES MARSHALL lowers himself from one of
the overhead wing struts.

He emerges into the bowels of Air Force one.

He stands quietly a moment, listening… for footsteps, for
gunfire. All quiet except for the whine of the jet engines.

He tak9s a moment to think. Considers his situation. His
eyes find the dead agent who risked his life so he could
make it to the pod. He trots down the gangway toward the
lower galley.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Air Force One hovers atop billowy peaks. The smaller F-15s
cluster around her in a loose formation.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (0.5. RADIO)

Sir, isn’t there something we can do besides escort?

COL. CARLTON (O.S. RADIO)

Like what, son… shoot our own plane down?

FIGHTER PILOT #1
No sir. I just wish…

COL. CARLTON
Roger. We all wish… Now shut the
fuck up and escort.

INT. LOWER GALLEY – NIGHT

Marshall looks around for a weapon… half-full coffee pot,

stove, walk-in freezer, plates and silverware. Marshall picks
up a butcher knife.

INT. CORRIDOR, AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Nevsky and Bazylev guard the conference room door as Korshunov
and Vlad enter. Nevsky hands Korshunov a copy of the plane’s
manifest.

NEVSKY
Every weapon and every person is
accounted for.

Korshunov nods and enters the room.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

Korshunov surveys the hostages. Viad covers them at gunpoint.

Rose holds Alice, comforting her. shepherd, Doherty, Aides,
Advisors, Crew… Fifty of them huddle like sardines.

The plane’s doctor administers to the wounded.

Korshunov stares down his captives.

KORSHUNOV
Fear will keep you alive. Any one
who is not afraid is bound to do
something foolish, and bound to die.

ROSE
What do you want with us?

KORSHUNOV
Cooperation. If you try to escape,
you will be met with automatic gunfire
and a barricade of your comrade’s
bodies will prevent you from exiting.
Good day.

Korshunov exits, with Viad backing out behind him. Leaving
the hostages alone. The sound of the door locking.

A mournful beat. Everyone looks at each other and the dead
and wounded victims of this heinous act…

Hushed conversation breaks out all over the room.

DOHERTY
This can’t be happening. You just
don’t pull this shit with the United
States. You just don’t.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Keep your heads.

Caldwell paces, looks around the room.

SHEPHERD
Mrs. Marshall, are you okay?

ROSE
We’re alive.

SHEPHERD
That’s all that matters. Thank god
the President got of f the plane.

ROSE
Yes… thank God.
(to caldwell)
You there… Caidwell, right? What’s
on your mind? caldwell takes a beat,
then crosses to Rose and Shepherd.

MAJOR CALDWELL
(hushed)
I don’t want to get anybody here
excited, but if we can get out of
this room, I can get us to safety.

SHEPHERD
We’re thirty five thousand feet up.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Yes, sir, that’s a problem, but if
we can somehow get to a lower
altitude, the rear loading ramp on
the baggage deck is equipped with
parachutes in case of an engine
failure. Now we can either wait for
a political resolution, or try to
resolve this thing ourselves.

DOHERTY
You’re goddamn right we can resolve
this ourselves. We’ll negotiate.

SHEPHERD
You know the President’s policy.

DOHERTY
The President isn’t here.

ROSE
Right now we are an enormous liability
to the United States. We can’t just
sit and do nothing.

INT. CORRIDOR – NIGHT

The terrorists move toward the nose of the plane leaving
Nevsky to guard the conference room.

INT. BAGGAGE HOLD – NIGHT

President Marshall reaches the front stairway. Cautiously
climbs to the main cabin. As he reaches the top stairs, he
hears Russian conversation approaching. He ducks back into
the stairwell.

He can’t see them, but he can hear them.

The terrorists pass within a few feet as they ascend to the
Mission Communications Center on the upper deck.

Marshall waits a few beats, listens to the silence. Then re-
mounts the stairs and almost runs into the back of…

VIAD
Standing guard, facing the opposite
direction.

Marshall FREEZES… looks past Viad down the corridor where
Nevsky guards the main conference room floor.

Unaware of Marshall, Viad reaches into his pocket and pulls
out a cigarette. Lights it. On the first puff he feels a
presence behind him.

VLAD slowly turns around…

Nothing there.

He smiles at his jittery nerves, turns back round.

REVERSE ANGLE –

Over Vlad’s shoulder…

MARSHALL, flattened behind the edge of the galley divider.
He creeps away from Vlad toward the Presidential Suite…
stepping gingerly over dead secret service agents.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER –

* Korshunov pulls a handkerchef from his breast pocket
and wipes the blood from a telephone headset.

KORSHUNOV
Proceed.

Gibbs works the communications board, dialing in a series of
numbers. Telephone ringing…

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – DAY

A map of Air Force One’s flight trajectory is displayed on
the rear screen. Moscow to Berlin and back toward the Black
Sea.

The assembled brass listens as Korshunov’s voice slithers
off the speaker phone.

KORSHUNOV (SPEAKER)
…the Chief of Staff, the First
Lady, and the First Daughter. Our
demands are simple. Arrange the
release of Ivan Stravanvitch. Once
our leader is returned to Turkuenistan
soil, Air Force One and it’s occupants
will be allowed safe passage to
Switzerland. You have one hour before
we start killing hostages.

The phone clicks off. A silent beat in the room.

V.P. CHANDLER
Find that voice for me, I want to
know who we’re dealing with. And get
President Petrov on the phone.

GENERAL CHARLES GREELY, head of the 87th Mechanized Air Wing,
the unit responsible for Air Force One, enters the room.

GENERAL GREELY
Madame Vice-President, we just got
word from Ramstein… The nod was
UntiL Chandler stands.

V.P. CHANDLER
Empty?

GENERAL GREELY
The President… he must still be
onboard.

V.P. CHANDLER
Play back that call.

TECHNICAL OFFICER
Yes, sir.

The Tech Officer indexes back on his computer.

KORSHUNOV (V.0. TAPE)
The plane is under our command, and
those we did not kill we hold as
hostages, including the Chief of
Staff, the First Lady, and the First
Daughter.

V.P. CHANDLER
but not the President. Not the
President.

A silent beat.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
He’s dead then. They must have killed
him.

DEAN
We don’t know that.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Holding the president hostage is not
something that slips your mind when
you’re making demands.

V.P. CHANDLER
And if he’s dead? Do you really think
they’d risk telling us?

DEAN
There is a possibility we’re
overlooking.

All eyes turn to Dean.

DEAN
When I ran Specops in `Nam, I ordered
the destruction of a V.C. munitions
dump. During insertion, the plane
was shot down and the entire team
was killed, or so we thought. Two
days later the dump

BLEW AND A WEEK AFTER THAT, THIS 19-

year-old kid, the pilot… he walks out of the jungle in
pretty bad shape. He survived the crash and finished the
mission… alone.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Walter, if you have a point, make
it.

DEAN
That kid’s name was Jim Marshall.

Most of the President’s service record makes for dull reading
because most of what he did iarLZ ULirn. History remembers
him for what he did aflar he got back to the states — the
protests, the rallies — But he was a soldier once, a damn
fine one.

V.P. CHANDLER
So what are you saying?

DEAN
Maybe he’s alive on that plane and
those bastards don’t even know it.

V.P. CHANDLER
Mr. Dean, may I remind you that the
President is not 19 anymore.

INT. PRESIDENT’S STATEROOM – NIGHT

Marshall cautiously enters the room. Ready for action.

The room is empty, but it’s been trashed by the firefight.

The sound of voices… coming from the Duke game which still
plays. Marshall hustles over to one of the secure phones.

It’s dead. He tries the regular phone. Dead. Hangs it up in
disgust.

MARSHALL
Goddamnit.

He steps on some glass. It’s a broken frame holding a
PHOTOGRAPH of Alice and Rose. He picks up the photo and lays
it on a table.

He thinks for a beat… glances around the room, searching…

Then he crosses to the closet, opens it and begins rifling
through his wardrobe.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Caldwell stands on the conference table. The hostages have
removed one of the ceiling panels. Air supply ducts and
bundles of wiring run through the ten-inch space between the
ceiling and the shielding plates.

MAJOR CALDWELL
This is a dead end.

Rose looks around the room. Hopeless. Her eyes land on the
carpet…

INT. CORRIDOR.

Marshall opens the stateroom door and slowly slides into the
corridor.

Vlad still faces the opposite direction.

Marshall creeps down the hallway, when…

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Marshall’s watch alarm goes off.

Marshall dives for the nearest doorway. Vlad swings round to
see a figure slip into the senior staff cabin.

Vlad, unsure of what he saw., cautiously heads toward the
staff cabin. As he nears, he bends over a dead Secret Service
agent and pulls up the lifeless wrist revealing abeening
watch. It wasn’t Marshall’s after all. No matter. Vlad
continues to the staff Cabin.

INT. STAFF CABIN – NIGHT

Marshall frantically searches for something he can use as a
weapon. In the room: some video monitors, leather chairs and
phones. stainless steel cabinets run the length of one of
the walls.

Marshall throws the cabinet doors open, revealing…

A fully stocked MEDICAL CENTER… fold-down operating

table… high-intensity lights. Equipped to deal with any
medical emergency the president might encounter.

But too late. Vlad kicks the door open.

VLAD
Get on the floor, now!

Marshall yanks down the operating table, and it smashes into
Vlad, knocking him down. Marshall lunges with his knife, but
Vlad OPENS FIRE. A HALF DOZEN ROUNDS pump into Marshall’s
belly. He’s thrown back against the wall, then slumps to the
floor.

Vlad approaches the crumpled body. Leans down to examine his
victim. He cups his hand under the man’s chin and lifts his
head. Recognizes him.

VIAD
(wonderment)
The President.

But Marshall’s eyes flash open.

MARSHALL
That’s right, asshole.

He springs, shoving the butcher knife under the flack jacket
and into Vlad’s spleen. Vlad freezes, unsure of what just
happened.

Marshall is on his feet. Never letting go of the twisting
knife, he grabs Vlad by the back of the head and slams his
face against the mirror above the surgical scrub sink. The
mirror shatters and streams of blood erupt cn the terrorist’s
face. The blood drips down into the white porcelain sink,
swirling into the drain.

Vlad elbows Marshall in the neck, stunning him momentarily.

He wipes the blood from his face, spins and hits Marshall
with a devastating right cross. Marshall reels back against
the wall, and Vlad follows, shoving the MP5 into Marshall’s
throat. Marshall grabs the gun near the trigger…

* VLAD

Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off.

MARSHALL
I don’t think so.

Marshall presses the saftey button on the gun with his
forefinger, then knees Vlad in the balls. Viad pulls the
trigger repeatedly as he goes down, but nothing happens.

Instead he comes up swinging his gun butt against Marshall’s
face. Like a bat hitting a baseball, it knocks Marshall into
the medical closet. The gun goes flying, skittering

UNDERNEATH A CABINET.

Marshall pulls himself up the shelves trying to keep his
legs from buckling. Vlad grabs some I.V. tubing and wraps it
around Marshall’s neck. Marshall struggles for breath, clawing
at the tube.

HE SPOTS A DEFIBRILLATOR, REACHES AND SWITCHES IT ON. LOW-

pitched hum and beeping.

Marshall pulls his head forward, straining against the plastic
tubing. Then slams back into Vlad’s head. Viad releases his
grip just for a moment…

The beeping becomes a steady whine.

… but a moment is all Marshall needs as he grabs the def
ib’s CARDIAC PADDLES, turns, and SLAMS them on either side
of Vlad’s head.

Vlad convulses from the shock for a full five seconds… his
eyeballs roll, his hair stands on end. then he collapses to
the floor.

MARSHALL
Clear.

Marshall catches his breath for a moment. Pulls open his
shirt. Beneath it he wears a bulletproof Kevlar vest. He
lifts the vest and a half-dozen angry welts have blossomed
across his skin. The stuff may be bulletproof, but each of
Vlad’s shots sting like a motherfucker.

EXT. CORRIDOR.

Nevsky walks down the corridor. Sees that Vlad is away from
his post.

NEVSKY
Viad?

* INT. STAFF CABIN.

Marshall opens the medical cabinets, rifling through them.

Pulls out hypodermics, adrenalin, rubbing alcohol… arming

himself.

NEVSKY (O.S.)
Vlad? Vlad?

EXT. CORRIDOR.

Nevsky works his way up the corridor, peeking in rooms.

As he enters the…

INT. STAFF CABIN.

he’s blinded by the high intensity surgical lights.

Marshall cracks a tank of anesthesia across Nevsky’s heu
Nevsky goes down.

Marshall rips Nevsky’s MP5 off of him. Holds it to Nevsky’s
throat.

MARSHALL
Where are th*y? fly tamily, the
crew…. where are they?

Nevsky says nothing.

The conference room, right? Right?

Marshall jerks him to his feet.

MARSHALL
o’11 unlocli the door for me or I’ll
kill you.

INT. CORRIDOR –

Marshall walks flevsky toward the mj vonteronve room3 As
they pass the stairs to the upper deck, Nevsky breaks away.

NEVSKY
KORSKUNOV!

Marshall fires. Killing him.

SHIT1
INT. CORRIDOR.

No time for remorse. Marshall tries the Main conference Room
door. Locked. He knows the others will be coming so he
flattens himself against the corridor wall. Trains his gun
on the stairs.

Just as the terrorists descend, Marshall squeezes off a few
rounds. The terrorists edge back up the steps, returning
fire.

Marshall checks his clip, not many bullets left. He fires
off a few more shots to buy some time then ducks round the
corner and pulls out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and some
gauze.

The terrorists seize the moment of quiet, descending the
stairs to take position.

Marshall lights the gauze fuse of his new made Molatov

cocktail and throws it down the corridor. The bottle crashes
into a BALL OF FLAME. Catching Bazylev on fire. He yells,
drops and rolls. FIRE SUPPRESSING FOAM immediately sprays
down from overhead.

KORSHUNOV
Go after him.

Serge hops Bazylev’s burning body and heads down the corridor,
looking for this new wildcard. Korshunov grabs a fire
extinguisher from the galley and attends to Bazylev.

INT. CORRIDOR, TOWARD THE REAR OF AIR FORCE ONE.

Marshall retreats behind a divider. Sees Serge coming. Fires
a few rounds, then retreats to the next divider. Working
toward the rear of the plane.

Serge picks his way through the rear cabins, advancing
cautiously.

INT. REAR GALLEY/BATHROOMS.

Marshall’s out of plane. Nowhere to hide in the galley.

Marshall eyes the bathrooms, doors flapping.

FOLLOWING SERGE…

as he reaches the rear galley and bathrooms. Marshall is
nowhere to be seen. But the bathroom doors are all closed.

SERGE
I know you’re in there. Come on out.
(a few beats)
Okay. Have it your way.

Time for a deadly version of the shell game. serge fires
several rounds into the first closed bathroom door. The
bullets slice easily through the thin doors. He kicks the
riddled door open. The stall is empty.

Serge moves to the next one. Same procedure. It’s empty.

Moves to the last bathroom, confident he’s got him. He wails
with his MP5, turning the hatch into swiss cheese. Waits a
beat, then…

Kicks it in. It’s empty too.

Serge looks around. Where the hell is this guy?

KORSHUNOV (O.S.)
(calling down)
Serge?

Serge reluctantly returns to his group.

INT. LOWER GALLEY, BAGGAGE LEVEL –

Marshall tumbles out of the cramped galley dumbwaiter,
breathing heavy. He slumps against the bulkhead and slides

down to the ground.

He takes a moment to pull himself together, to clear his
head. He hefts the MP5, refamiliarizing himself with the
weight and texture of a gun. He checks the clip. Only a
handfull of rounds left. He slaps it back in and switches
from automatic fire to single-shot then pantomimes firing.

MARSHALL
The NRA’ll love this.

Looking down the barrel of the gun, he notices bins loaded
with luggage.

INT. OFFICE – NIGWR

Stoli Petrov on the phone, behind his large oak desk.

PETROV
I understand your dilemma, Vice
President Chandler. But unless you
can confirm that your President is
indeed a hostage, I cannot release
Stravanavitch. If Marshall is dead,
no good will come of meeting this
demand. We both know he would agree.

V.P. CHANDLER (V.0. PHONE)

But the First Lady…

PETROV
*.. is not a First Lady if her
husband’s been killed. Then she’s a
civilian. And I can’t release him
for a civilian. Do you see my point?

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – DAY

Each member of the crisis team is either on the phone or
huddled with staff. A secure fax machine spits out papers
which Lee slips into files.

Lee interrupts Chandler on the phone.

LEE
Madame Vice president. We have an
options paper. chandler takes the
options paper, waves off Lee, and
reads it as she talks.

V.P. CHANDLER
Yes. You’ve made yourself quite clear.

PETROV (V.0.)
But I will deploy forces to a staging
area near the Turkmenistan border.
When you have more information, we
can decide how to proceed.

V.P. CHANDLER
By then I’ll be President.

Chandler hangs up the phone.

V.P. CHANDLER
(of f options paper)
I don’t like any of these. from, did
you brief General Northwood?

Northwood pops out of his huddle.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD

I’M INCLINED TO TRY THIS PART –

Anticipate their landing site and get strike teams in place.

V.P. CHANDLER
Can we do that?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
We’ve got four hours before they
make it into Turkienistan airspace.

I’ve got a satellite passing overhead in twenty minutes. We
can narrow down the landing site choices based on runway
length and any unusual activity. With luck we’ll only have
to capture three or four sites.

V.P. CHANDLER
But they start executing hostages in

FORTY FIVE MINUTES. –

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
I hate to be pragmatic, but they’ll
sacrifice pawns before kings. It may
take them some time to kill their
way up to senior staff.

V.P. CHANDLER
Okay. Also, I want you to put our
bases in Turkey on alert, and have
the Kitty Hawk prepare a retaliatory
air strike.

* DEAN

Madame Vice-President…

V.P. CHANDLER
I’ve not discounted your theory Hr.

Dean…

DEAN
No… I got the new numbers from our
gamers. They believe that there’s
only an eight percent chance that
the President is still alive.

V.P. CHANDLER
Eight percent is better than zero.

Oh shit… what is that?

Chandler refers to a monitor in the rear of the room.

CNN, the omnipresent player on the world political stage,
broadcasts video from Ramstein Air Base.

GENERAL GREELY
That’s trouble.

CNN REPORTER (V.0. T.V.)

*.. the Presidential Aircraft was enroute from Moscow when
it began its mayday hail. But in a startling turn of events,
the seemingly out of control plane aborted its landing and
took off again. We haven’t been able to confirm its status
or whether or not the first family was onboard at the time.

V.P. CHANDLER
Would someone get the Press Secretary!

AIDE
He’s been holding on line four.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Air Force One, lit up by moonlight.

INT. CORRIDOR.

The fire is extinguished. Zedeck squats over Nevsky’s body.

Gibbs and Serge maintain a defensive position, guns ready.

Bazylev emerges from the Senior staff Conference room. He
shakes his head “no”. Korshunov nods and furrows his brow.

KORSHUNOV
Who did this?

GIBBS
We checked the manifest. Everyone
was accounted for.

KORSHUNOV
A secret service agent. It must be.

Wounded but alive. Serge, Bazylev…

Find him.

Serge and Bazylev lock and load, head off in separate
directions.

KORSHUNOV
The conference room is no longer
secure. We’ll take the First Lady
and the girl up top where we can
keep a closer eye on them.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM –

The hostages have torn up a section of carpeting. Caidwell
and Shepherd examine the floor. Smooth sheets of steel riveted
together. Pointless.

MAJOR CAL DWELL
We’re not getting out that way.

The door swings open and Gibbs and Korshunov enter. They
spots the ripped up carpeting.

KORSHUNOV
Admirable, but you’re wasting your
time.
(beat)
Mrs. Marshall, would you and your
daughter please come here.

They don’t move. Korshunov raises his gun, points it a
Shepherd’s head.

KORSHUNOV
Now, or he dies, please.

ROSE
Come on, Alice.

ALICE
I’m scared.

Doherty steps forward. Shepherd tries to pull him back, to
no

* avail.

DOHERTY
You’ve got the better part of the
White House locked in this room, you
know. If you want to negotiate, we’re
the ones to do it with.

Korshunov SHOOTS Doherty through the head. Screams from some
of the hostages. Korshunov squeezes off a few shots to quiet
everyone.

KORSHUNOV
Mrs. Marshall. Alice. If you please.

Rose turns to the other hostages.

ROSE
It’s okay. Do what you’re told. It’s
okay. We’ll be okay.

She locks eyes with Caldwell. HKeep working.N He nods.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

The President hunts through luggage. Overturned garment bags
and suitcases around him, belongings littered all over the
bulkhead. He sifts through heaps of clothing and finally
recovers what he’s been looking for…

A CELLULAR PHONE…

He flips it open, starts to dial… but freezes.

MARSHALL
Goddamnit.

He can’t remember the number. He dials…

CLOSE.ON PHONE -555-1212… Information.

The phone rings…

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Bazylev, moving like a commando, slowly and methodically
works his way into the lower galley.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

Marshall. Finally, the phone picks up.

VOICE (O.S. PHONE)
Information. How can I assist you?

MARSHALL
Washington D.C.?

VOICE
Yes, sir. Can I help you?

MARSHALL
Yes, the number for the White House.

INT. PILOT’S REST AREA – NIGHT

The rest area consists of a couple of bunks behind the

cockpit area, still soiled black from the earlier C-4
explosion. Korshunov pours a cup of coffee and offers it to
Alice.

ALICE
I don’t drink coffee.

KORSHUNOV
You must be tired. It’ll wake you
up.

ALICE
No, thank you. The gunfire did that.

Gibbs wraps Rose’s hands behind her back with duct tape.

ROSE
Leave my daughter alone.

KORSHUNOV
Or you will do what, Mrs. Marshall?
(beat, he chuckles)
But I admire your courage. Your
husband, on the other hand…

ROSE
What do you know of my husband?

KORSHUNOV
I know he left you behind.

ROSE
My husband is a very courageous man.

KORSHUNOV
Your husband is a coward. He sends
soldiers half-way around the world
to steal a man from his home in the
middle of the night.

Alice sits up, attentive.

ALICE
You’re one of Stravanavitch’s men.

KORSHUNOV
So, you study world events, little
one. That’s good for a girl your
age.

ALICE
Yeah, I study world events. Five
thousand Turkienistan Muslims were
slaughtered in Stravanvitch’s
cleansings… along with 15 American
school kids. You know hQw I studied
that. I went to their funerals with
my dad. I met their parents.

KORSHUNOV
Smart for your age, eh? Top of your
class? Tell me, do you know what the
word “propaganda” means?

ALICE
Yeah. Do you know what the word
“asshole” means.

ROSE
Alice!

Rose doesn’t know whether to be pissed at Alice or proud of
her. Korshunov smiles, nods his head and lifts his gun.

KORSHUNOV
Yes, I have heard that word.

He aims his gun at Alice.

KORSHUNOV
Yes, I am an asshole.

A long beat, the Korshunov lovers the gun.

KORSHUNOV
Your father is a reasonable man.

Once he hears our simple demand, I’m sure he will acquiesce.
For your sake.

Korshunov smiles. Gibbs grabs Alice’s hands and pulls them
behind her back. Begins wrapping them with the tape.

INT. MAIN CABING, REAR GALLEY.

Serge searches through the galley cabinets, spots the galley
dumbwaiter. Now he knows where his quarry went.

He angrily grabs a service cart and shoves it into the
dumbwaiter, disabling it.

INT. GANGWAY –

Bazylev hears the beeps of a phone dialing. He moves toward
the aft portal of the gangway.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

Marshall waits as the phone rings…

INT. WHITE HOUSE, SWITCHBOARD ROOM – DAY

A chipper woman in her mid-20s picks up the call.

SWITCHBOARD
White House switchboard. How may I
direct your call.

MT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

MARSHALL
(hushed urgency)
Okay listen, listen carefully. This
is an emergency call from Air Force
One. Who’s there? Is the Vice-
President there?

INT. WHITE HOUSE, SWITCHBOARD ROOM – DAY

SWITCHBOARD
who can I say is calling?

MARSHALL (0.S. PHONE)
This is the President.

SWITCHBOARD
Yeah, right.

MARSHALL
Don’t cut me off. This is an
emergency.

SWITCHBOARD
Sir, the President does not call
this particular number. So whoever
you are get a life, before I have
this call traced.

MARSHALL
You don’t understand. This is an
emergency. Let me talk to anyone.

The switchboard operator thinks for a moment. Maybe she can
have some fun with this nutcase.

SWITCHBOARD
Okay… if you’re the President,
when’s your wife’s birthday?

MARSHALL
Look lady, I don’t have time for
games. Just put the….

SWITCHBOARD
Thank you for calling the white
House…

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

MARSHALL
No. no. no. Wait. Wait.

Bazylev appears behind Marshall. Raises his gun.

MARSHALL
I should know this.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SWITCHBOARD ROOM –

MARSHALL (V.0.)
It’s June.

Gunfire in the background.

SWITCHBOARD
Sir? Are you there? Sir? Sir?

Her face says N. The Switchboard operator pulls out a call
sheet and finds a number.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

On the phone, lying open on a heap of clothing.

Bazylev points the machine gun at Marshall’s head.

BAZ YLEV
Hands away from your weapon.

Marshall doesn’t move, his np5 hanging at his waist… his
hand inches from it.

BAZYLEV
Come now. You don’t want to die.

Marshall… with no options… slowly moves his hands away
from the gun.

BAZYLEV
On your knees…

PHONE (O.S.)
Hello. Is anyone there?

Bazylev motions Marshall to get on his knees. Marshall
complies.

BAZYUV
What’s that in your shirt? Open it.

Marshall pulls his shirt aside revealing his Kevlar vest.

BAZYLEV
Take it off. Now.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – DAY

Chandler on the phone. An aide waves, trying to get her
attention.

V.P. CHANDLER
My intention is not to escalate the
situation, but it’s a contigency
that must be considered. Hang on…
(to Aide)
What?

AIDE
The switchboard says that someone
called in claiming to be the
President, then she heard gunfire.

Caller’s gone, but the line’s still active.

DEAN
Could be some crank watching CNN.

AIDE
No sir. Trace confirms the call is
Coming from a White House staff
cellular account.

V.P. CHANDLER
Put it through down here.
(into phone)
Hang on, Toni.

The call comes in on speaker phone, distorted muffled voices
and the whine of an aircraft in the background.

V.P. CHANDLER
What’s going on in the background?

Can we hear what’s going on?

Dean picks up a phone.

DEAN
Max, get me Willis.

INT. NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY, LISTENING POST – DAY

WILLIS, a grossly overweight man in his late forties
surrounded by a monolith of high-tech, starts working his
console.

WILLIS
Tracking… Intercepting call… Got
it. Ten seconds, Mr. Dean.

Audio waveforms appear over Willis’ console. He implements
digital filtering routines, cleaning up the sounds.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – DAY

The group listens intently. The call modulates, distorts,
dissolves… then clarifies.

BAZYLEV (V.0.)
Hands… hands behind your head, Mr.

President.

V.P. CHANDLER
It’s him. He is alive.

BAZYLEV
I’m going to take your weapon now,
and then I’m going to take you
Upstairs to join the others.

Understand?

DEAN
Christ, they have him.

BAZYLEV
And if you make any sudden moves, I
will not hesitate to shoot.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Maybe they don’t have him yet.

Northwood stares up at the tactical board. Air Force One…
surrounded by the F-l5s.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
And maybe we aren’t so helpless.

General Northwood picks up a secure phone and dials.

GENERAL NORTPNOOD
General Greely, Air Force One has
automatic countermeasures, right?

GENERAL GREELY
Everything we own is in that plane.

GENERAL NORTINOOD
So a single missile launched from a
distance should be a mere distraction.

GENERAL GREELY
Theoretically.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
(into phone)
Ramutein Tower Control, please.

GENERAL GREELY
(getting it)
But the effect could be jarring.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Exactly. Ramstein? General
Northwood… Patch me through to
your fighters. Madame Vice
President… with your permission?

V.P. CHANDLER
Do it.

INT. AFT STORAGE COMPARTMENT –

Marshall on his knees, hands behind his head. Bazylev, his
automatic pressed against Marshall’s forehead, disarms
Marshall before stepping away. He slings Marshall’s MP5 over
his own neck. Studies Marshall a beat.

BAZ YLEV
So you’re the President. Somehow, I
thought you’d be smaller.

Marshall stares straight ahead tn silent defiance. Bazylev
kicks him in the gut. Marshall doubles over, wheezing.

BAZYLEV
Not so powerful now, eh? No aides to
advise you, no secret service to
protect you, no armies to command.

Bazylev grabs Marshall’s hair and tugs his head back. He
holds Marshall with his eyes.

BAZYLEV
You’ll suffer for what you’ve done.

MARSHALL
* So will you.

Bazylev slams Marshall’s face against his knee. Marshall
slumps forward.

BAZYLEV
Up. Get up now!

Marshall slowly rises to his feet. Bazylev swings wide around
him.

BAZYLEV
You will walk ahead… slowly. Do
you understand?
(no response)
Do you understand!

MARSHALL
Do you know what’s going to happen
to you because of this? Do you know
what the world will do?

BAZYLEV
Nothing. The world will do nothing.

That is what they’ve always done.

INT. MAIN CABIN, FORWARD GALLEY –

Serge seals off the second dumbwaiter.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT
63.

The Squadron of F-15 Eagles hover around Air Force One.

COL. CARLTON (V.0.)
You want me to what?

GENERAL NORTPNOOD (V.0.)
You heard the order. And do not, I
repeat, do not take your best shot.

COL. CARLTON
Roger, sir. Okay boys, clear the
deck. I have been ordered to engage
Air Force One.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The other airplanes flare out giving distance to the Jumbo
Jet. Canton’s plane drops back.

COL. CARLTON
Assuming attack posture. Targeting
computer is on.

INT. CARLTON’S COCKPIT – NIGHT

On TARGETING COMPUTER – Graphics: As it acquires Air Force
One.

COL. CARLTON
Target is acquired. I have good tone
CLOSE ON: The flight stick. Carlton’s
finger over the firing button. He
hesitates.

COL. CARLTON
They’re gonna court martial me for
this.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, GANGWAY –

Hands behind his head, Marshall walks in front of Bazylev,
an MP5 pressed against his neck.

INT. F-15 EAGLE COCKPIT – NIGHT

Carlton pulls the trigger.

EXT. F-15 EAGLE – NIGHT

An air-to-air missile detatches from under the Eagle. Its
tail ignites in flame.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT – NIGHT

Zedeck monitoring the controls. Situation normal. Then all
hell breaks loose as an entire wall of instrumentation lights
up. Warning bells. Flashing lights.

ZEDECK
What is this?

The TACTICAL COUNTERMEASUREs COMPUTER – Springs to life.

High-tech readouts, risk analyses, schematics, and
assessments. Radar tracks the incoming, identifies it.

On Screen: “Autopilot disengaged”

The plane banks into a dive, throwing Zedeck back against
his chair.

ZEDECK
Gibbs! Gibbs! Get in here.

On screen: “Activating countermeasures”

EXT. SICY – NIGHT

With no oneat the controls, Air Force One goes into a sharp
sloping dive.

INT. GANGWAY, AIR FORCE ONE –

Bazylev, thrown off balance, tries to keep his gun trained
on Marshall.

BAZYLEV
Don’t move!

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The missile follows a wide arc toward the banking plane.

INT. AFO, COCKPIT –

Gibbs slides into the pilot’s seat, attempts to regain
control.

GIBBS
What the hell’s going on?

ZEDECK
The Americans fired at us.

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

“Electronic Jamming has failed Target acquired”

Out the cockpit window, the brightly burning tail of the
missile closing on them.

GIBBS
Why would they fire on us?

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

“Missile Closing:

Metallic Chaff Burst Standing by:”

The computer counts down from eight… seven…

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The missile screams toward the jumbo jet, a slow easy target.

INT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

ZEDECK
Do something.

Five… Four…

GIBBS
I’m not a combat pilot.

Three… two….

ZEDECK
Shit!

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Small bays doors slip open below the aircraft. A cloud of
small metallic narticles sprays out of the bottom of the
aircraft.

INT. COCKPIT –

On the faces of the terrorists, as the missile comes right
at them.

Then the missile veers downward.

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

“Missile Neutralized”

EXT. SKY – MIGHT

The missile dives into the swarm of descending chaff and
DETONATES, lighting up the evening sky. Red flames reflect
against the silver-grey clouds.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, VARIOUS SHOTS – NIGHT

The shock wave hits the aircraft.

Lights flicker and the plane rocks side to side.

HOSTAGES are bounced around the conference room.

INT. GANGWAY –

Marshall and Bazylev are slammed against the ceiling and
then the floor.

Marshall seizes the moment. Grabs Bazylev’s gun. The two
struggle and Bazylez instinctively pulls the trigger. A burst
of richocheting gunfire sparks across the bulkhead.

The turbulence worsens. Bazylev manages to wrest away the
rifle, but the plane pulls into a climb, sending Bazylev
tumbling down the gangway into the rear baggage hold.

Marshall manages to pull himself up the grating and into the
galley. He’s free, for the moment.

INT. AFO, COCKPIT.

Gibbs steadies the plane as the shock wave from the explosion
* subsides.

GIBBS
We’re okay.

Korshunov examines the Tactical Countermeasures Computer.

KORSHUNOV
Remarkable aircraft. Remarkable.

GIBBS
why did they do that?

KORSHUNOV
Psychology. They’re trying to unnerve
us.

GIBBS
Well it worked.

Korshunov smiles and puts his hand on Gibbs shoulder.

KORSHUNOV
Relax, my friend. Apparently they
cannot harm us. Even if they wanted
to. rNT. FRONT GALLEY.
67.

Marshall Struggles to assemble the hypodermic and the
container of adrenalin.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD.

Bazylev pulls to his feet, heads back down the gangway.

INT. FRONT GALLEY.

Marshall greets Bazylev with a spray of hot coffee from the
Simmering pot as he enters. Bazylev covers up, but the spray
sears him pretty bad. He yells in pain, turning.

Marshall springs, imbedding the hypodermic needle into
Bazylev’s neck. A full dose of adrenalin. Bazylev pulls the
empty needle from his neck. Marshall steps back, waiting for
a reaction.

A pregnant pause as they both wait to see what happens.

Then Bazylev smiles and slowly turns toward Marshall.

Marshall backs away as Bazylev levels his gun.

He fires once, hitting Marshall in the arm. Marshall winces
off the pain.

BAZYLEV
(disgust)
The leader of the free world.

He backs Marshall against a wall and holds him in his sights.

But he doesn’t shoot. His breathing becomes faster and faster
as the adrenalin takes hold. Building… building… He
screams and clutches at his throat.

His eyes spin back and then his heart explodes.

Bazylev is caught frozen, suspended in a moment of disbelief.

Death reflex. He fires off several rounds from the gun as he
collapses.

Marshall waits a beat, half-expecting Bazylev to rise. He
slowly approaches the body and retrieves the KP5.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The F-lSs pull back into formation around the Jumbo Jet.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

Marshall retrieves the phone, then wedges himself behind a
waste storage tank, out of view.

INT. PILOT’S REST AREA –

Rose and Alice On the bunk. Alice’s eyes are Watering.

Korshunov examines tOPographic maps in the adjacent M1C.c.
and speaks into a phone in Russian.

ALICE
Mom?

ROSE
Yes dear?

ALICE
I’m sorry I was so mean to you
earlier.

Rose smiles sadly.

ROSE
I know, sweetie. I know.
(beat)
You’re being very brave.

Alice nods. She’s trying.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge finishes his sweep of the upper level.

SERGE
(to Zedeck)
He’s not up here. I’m going down
below.

INTERCUT:

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD/INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM

Marshall rips his sleeve off, swabs the blood off his arm.

Bazylev’s bullet took out a good chunk of flesh when it grazed
him.

MARSHALL
Did they say anything about my family?

V.P. CHANDLER
They’re still alive, but the loyalists
plan to start killing hostages in
forty minutes.

MARSHALL
Then tell me there’s a rescue
operation underway.

Marshall opens a travel bottle of Vodka and pours it over
the wound. He winces from the pain.

V.p CHANDLER 69.

I think we’re okay, sir. flow that we know You’re alive we
can force Petrov to release Stravanavitch.

MARSpari Don’t tell me you plan to give in to these fuckers.

GENERAL NORmwOOD We plan to do whatever it takes to keep you
alive, sir.

V.P. CHANDLER
and if that means negotiating…

MARSHALL
You know my policy. We don’t negotiate
with terrorists. If we start now,
all of America becomes a target.

V.P. CHANDLER
But this is different, sir. You’re
the President.

* MARSHALL

And what happens when Stravanavitch is freed and discovers
he’s got the President? You think for a second that that
crazy bastard is just gonna turn me over? He’ll ask for the
goddamn moon before he’s done.

V.P. CHANDLER
Please, Mr. President. You’re going
to get yourself killed. Is that your
solution?

MARSHALL
Freeing Stravanavitch is gonna get
tens of thousands killed. I can’t
live with that.
(somewhat resigned)
I’m not royalty. I’m an elected
official and the integrity of the
office of the President is infinitely
more important than the man who holds
that office.
(beat)
We don’t negotitate. Not as long as
I’m President. Is that understood?

A long silence, then…

YES SIR. CHANDLER

MARSHALL
flow, is there a rescue operation
under way or not?

Lee shakes his head at Chandler, signalling “don’t tell.”

LEE
He’s not on a secure line.

MARSHAlj Whoever said that, shut up. Walter, are you there?

DEAN
I’m here, Mr. President.

MARSHALL
Where’s the cavalry?

DEAN
We can’t do anything until that plane
lands. And when it does land, sir,
it’s going to be in hostile *
territory. To be perfectly honest,
we don’t know what the hell to do.

It’s going to take a miracle to figure this one out.

A long beat. We hold on Marshall’s determined face.

MARSHALL
I’ll see what I can do.

INT. GALLEY.

Serge comes across Bazylev. Checks for any sign of life.

Stone cold dead. He looks around and grips his gun a little
tighter as he backs out of the room.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge closes the stair access panel to the baggage deck.

Sealing Marshall off.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Serge comes trotting up the stairs and collects new clips.

SERGE
Bazylev is dead.

Korshunov swallows hard…

AND THE

SERGE
Trapped On the baggage deck. Let me
go finish him.

KORSHUNOV
No. He has the advantage down there.

Bring me a hostage. A woman.

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall sees that the stairway hatch has been sealed.

INT. LOWER GALLEY – NIGHT

Marshall hits the button for the dumbwaiter. The dumbwaiter
begins to descend then snags on the service cart. Its motor
grind to a halt. Marshall slumps dQwn. His hopes dashed.

Nothing to do now but wait.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Serge looks over the crowd of hostages like a bouncer at a
hip dance club. His eyes fall on Maria Mitchell.

SERGE
You. Come with me.

INT. LOWER GALLEY.

Marshall, seated on the floor. The cabinet next to him is
stacked with packs of complimentary cigarettes, all with the
seal of the President.

MARSHALL
What the hell…

He opens up a pack and puts the cigarette in his mouth. He
snags one of the Presidential lighters, tries to light it
several times but it only sparks. XC shakes it. It’s out of
tial. He tosses it aside and reaches for a book of matches,
but he FREEZES in mid-reach. A thought occurs to him.

MARSHALL
(murmuring)
Out of fuel.

INT. FORWARD BAGAGE HOLD – NIGHT

Marshall, lacking a screwdriver, levers open the hatch to
the Avionics compartment with the barrel of his gun.

RUT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT – NIGHT

Marshall sees the stacks of panels, piping, Wiring,
electronics.

MARSHALL
Come on, where are you…

He searches up and down.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Serge leads Maria Mitchell up the stairway. Korshunov nods.

KORSHUNOV
Ms. Mitchell. Hello again.

Maria is scared, she says nothing. She looks over to the
First Lady and Alice.

ROSE
Maria.

Korshunov switches on the airplane’s P.A.

KORSHUNOV
* Please tell me
your name.

MITCHELL
(frightened)
Maria… Maria Mitchell.

KORSHUNOV
And what is it you do, Ms. Mitchell.

Maria Mitchell’s voice echos over throughout Air Force One.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT.

Marshall halts his search to listen.

MITCHELL (V.0.)
I’m responsible for Press Relations
for the Flight Office.

KORSHUNOV (V.0.)
How are your fellow hostages feeling,
Ms. Mitchell?

MITCHELL
Scared. We’re scared.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Rose cradles Alice, both of them looking away, as Korshunov
raises his gun, pointing it at Mitchell.

KORSHUNOV
And why are you scared?

MITCHEL*L
Because… because I don’t want to
die.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

The hostages, listening.

KORSHUNOV
And what am I doing at this very
moment.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT – NIGHT

Marshall listens, helpless to do anything.

MITCHELL
You’re pointing a gun at me.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER –

KORSHUNOV
Very good. Thank you, Ms. Mitchell.

Did you hear her? She said I’m pointing a gun at her.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT –

KORSHUNOV
Now, to the secret service agent in
the baggage deck. I’m giving you ten
seconds to surrender, or this women
will die.

Marshall’s eyes widen.

KORSHUNOV
One…

Oh shit. Marshall tries to decide what to do.

KORSHUNOV
Two…

He climbs out of the avionics compartment and hurries to the
front baggage compartment.

KORSHUNOV
Three…

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck and Serge wait by the stairway hatch.

KORSHUNOV
Four…

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Hostages wait, expectantly.

KORSHUNOV
Five…

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall frozen near the bottom of the steps. To go up would
be to betray everything he believes in, and lose any chance
to save the others. But if he stays…

KORSHUNOV
Six…

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

Tears stream down Maria Mitchell’s face. She’s trying so
hard to be brave in front of Rose and Alice.

KORSHUNOV
Seven…

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

For Marshall, this is the hardest decision of his life. His
face a mask of anguish as he wrestles with his conscience.

KORSHUNOV
Eight…

He starts toward the stairs.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

Korshunov looking down the barrel of the gun.

KORSHUNOV
Nine…

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

It takes every bit of training and will to stop Marshall
from going up those stairs. He knows what’s going to happen.
He closes his eyes tight as if that will stop it from
happening.

KORSHUNOV
Ten…

A long silent beat. Then… BAAAAM!

MARSHALL
NO!

Marshall sinks to to his knees.

MARSHALL
Aw, Jesus.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Hostages hold each other tight for comfort. A mournful silence
fills the room.

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall, silhouetted in the half light, craddles his head
head in his hands. The shaft of light disappears as the main
cabin hatch closes, sealing him off once again.

KORSFL3NOV (V.0.)
I’ll give you a few minutes to think
about that one and then we’ll try
again. Perhaps soon I will choose
somebody important.

MARSHALL
(to himself)
She was important.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

zedeck and Serge drag the dead woman out of the compartment.

Alice sobs quietly.

ROSE
Do you have to be so brutal?

KORSHUNOV
Yes

ROSE
Why? Do you enjoy it?

KORSHUNOV
I neither enjoy nor dislike. I do
what is necessary.

ROSE
How can you? I mean they’re people.

*
76.

KORSHUNOV
But they are not ny people. You look
at me as if I am a monster, but answer
me this — when your planes bombed
the oil fields of Iraq, did You cry
for those dark skinned men whose
names you do not know and who’s faces
You will never see? Did You cry for
their wives and children. They were
people too, yes… but they were not
your people.

ROSE
That was war.

KORSHUNOV
So is this.
(beat)
Come now, you’re upsetting the little
one.

ALICE
The woman you shot. She was my friend.

KORSHUNOV
That’s the way of the world, little
one. Didn’t they teach you that in
school?

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall crosses back to the avionics compartment, talking
on the phone.

VOICE
(through static)
Chief Mechanic, 87th Air. How can I
help you?

MARSHALL
You can talk me through an emergency
fuel dump.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Led off to slaughter one at a time.

Next time I say we rush `em. They can’t shoot us all.

SHEPHERD
They can shoot enough of us.

*
77.

MAJOR CALDWELL
If we don’t act, they’ll kill US all
eventually Who’s with me?

Several of the hostages raise their hands.

INT. AFO’S MAINTENANCE HANGER/ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE – DAY

The Chief Mechanic has Air Force One schematics open in front
of him. He and his staff are huddled around them.

CHIEF MECHANIC
Do you see the maintenance panel?

MARSHALL
Got it.

CHIEF MECHANIC
Pop it open. There should be a red
switch, toggle it up.

MARSHALL
Okay, it’s on. We’ve got some
indicator lights here.

CHIEF MECHANIC
Okay, you’re aerated. To dump the
fuel you have to close the circuit
for the pump. There’s no switch in
Avionics so you’ll have to cross the
wires. There should be five wires,
just to your left. Do you see them?

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT – NIGHT

Marshall finds the wires: red, white, blue, green and yellow.

MARSHALL
Got `en.

Static blankets the conversation.

CHIEF MECHANIC
Okay, hang on. Let me double check

here, because if you get the wrong ones, you’ll cut the engine
feeds and stall the plane.

MARSHALL
I’ll wait.

The static worsens.

CHIEF MECHANIC
First… cut… green wire.

Marshall, Using a kitchen knife, slices the green wire. Heavy
static. The phone beeps… lOsing batteries.

MARSHALL
It’s cut.

CHIEF MECHANIC
cross it… The static overwhelms
the voice, then cuts out.

MARSHALR’
Hello? Hello? Goddamnit.

Static comes roaring back and garbled voices…

MARSHAlj Hello? Are YOU there?

Dead. Marshall tries to activate it again.

MARSHAIJi Hello? Hello?

Nothing. He tosses the dead phone aside.

Marshall stares. Cross the green wires with the… what?

Red, white, blue… or the yellow. His choice is obvious. He
cuts the yellow wire and crosses it with the green, leaving
the red, white and blue standing.

He waits. The engines continue to groan. He allows himself a
smile.

MARSHALL
An emergency landing in friendly
territory… there’s your goddamn
miracle.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Beneath the plane a trickle of gasoline appears and grows
into a strong steady stream.

INT. FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

A red warning light flashes on the plane’s panel.

GIBBS
Goddamnit it. We’re losing fuel.

Korshunov crosses to the flight deck.

KORSHUNOV
How?

GIBBS
Avionics compartment! It’s the only
place. You better get Zedeck down
there fast Unless, of course, you’d
rather be a martyr than a savior.

KORSHUNOV
(to Zedeck)
Go! Take Serge.. and watch your backs.

Zedeck nods and dashes out of the cabin.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck pulls open the hatch cover to the forward front stairs.
Descends into the dimly lit underneath.

Serge descends right behind Zedeck.

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE COMPARTMENT – NIGHT

Zedeck, Spooked by the dark shadows, senses he’s being
watched.

ZEDECK
He’s down here. I can feel it.

SERGE
Shut up and do your job.

Zedeck hastens toward the Avionics compartment, gun at the
ready. Serge sweeps the area behind.

They hear a metallic clank echo and reverberate around him.

They both check left… right… behind them…

Nothing.

It’s creepy being a walking target.

From behind a water storage tank, Marshall watches down the
barrel of his Mp5. With all the equipment in the way, it’s
almost impossible to line up a clear shot.

And they’re both well armed. He looks toward the stairway
instead.

Zedeck enters the Avionics compartment. Serge takes a
defensive position outside the door.

ZEDECK (O.S.)
The valve is shut. This guy sure
knew what he was doing.

Serge hears a noise and opens tire.
80.

ZEDECK
You see him?

SERGE
Erring on the side of caution.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT –

Zedeck opens a panel and rips out some wiring.

ZEDECK
I’m going to deactivate the by-pass
pump. It’ll take a minute.

INT. FLIGHT DECK.

Gibbs checks the fuel gauges. They stop falling.

GIBBS
We’ve stopped dumping… but we’ve
only got about twenty minutes of
fuel left.

KORSHUNOV
We’re not going to make it.

GIBBS
Not even close. Hell, we can’t even
make Syria or Iraq.

KORSHUNOV
Where are we now?

GIBBS
Over the Black Sea. I can probably
get us to Turkey or Georgia.

KORSHUNOV
No! If we land this plane anywhere
else, we will end up another Entebe.
(beat)
The Americans built a super plane
that flies through mushroom cloud,
evades missiles and…
(holding up Maria
Mitchell’s press kit)
refuels in mid-air. Call the White
House.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

Tactical Map: Air Force One over the Black Sea heading south
west toward Turkmenistan.

An Aide holds up a phone.

AIDE
It’s him again.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER –

Korshunov on the phone.

KORSHUNOV
Gentlemen, forgive me for diverting
you from your little wargames, but
I’ve just added another demand to my
very short list. I assure you it’s
quite reasonable.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

KORSHUNOV (V.0. PHONE)
We need fuel, gentlemen. And we need
it right now.

Lee whispers to the Vice President.

LEE
Finally, we can bargain.

V.P. CHANDLER
I’m sure we can strike some sort of
arrangement. Land the plane and we’ll
trade you hostages for fuel.

KORSHUNOV
No. The plane lands when I say, or
it will crash. The hostages are
released when I say, or they will
die.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

KORSHUNOV
Tell me what I want to hear or I
will execute a member of the senior
staff, and will continue killing one
hostage every minute until we crash
or until a refueling plane arrives.

Murmuring and hushed discussion floats over the airwaves.

A long silence. Korshunov looks toward Alice.

KORSHUNOV
Shall I begin by executing the
President’s daughter? She’s right
here.

ROSE
No.

KORSHUNOV
Say something dear.

ALICE
Fuck off, you stupid asshole.

KORSHUNOV
It would be a pity to squander such
a strong personality.

Another several beats of hushed murmuring.

KORSHUNOV
Well? What do you say?

V.P. CHANDLER (V.0. PHONE)

Fuel’s on its way.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge and Zedeck lower the hatch to the baggage compartment
and seal it. They head up the stairs to the M.C.C.

INT. M.C.C. – NIGHT

Korshunov paces, weighing his pistol in his hand.

KORSHUNOV
We trained for months. Everything
should’ve gone like clockwork.

ZEDECK
We have the hostages, we’re getting
more fuel.

KORSHUNOV
He’s already killed three of us, and
we haven’t even seen him. He’s also
shown that he can hurt us. I need to
think.
(looks at Serge)
What the hell are you doing up here?

Get back to the conference room.

INT. MAIN CABIN

Serge takes his position by the conference room.

Across from him, against the cabin divider, Marshall peers
down the sight of his gun.

Serge freezes.

MARSHALL
Don’t make the same mistake your
friend did earlier… Show me your
hands.

Serge raises his hands. Marshall reaches over and pulls out
the clip to his MP5.

MARSHALL
Open the door.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

Caldwell, Shepherd and a few other aides hear the key turn
in the lock. They quickly take position around the door. As
Marshall marches Serge in, they’re both tackled and smothered
by the group. They wrest the guns away and shut the door
quickly behind them.

Marshall struggles against his people.

MARSHALL
It’s me goddamnit. Let me go.

Surprised to hear their boss’ voice, the aides and advisors
release Marshall.

SHEPHERD
Mr. President, how the hell did you
get on board?

MARSHALL
I never left. Where’s my wife and
daughter?

MAJOR CALDWELL
They took `em out. They’re probably
on the upper deck.

SHEPHERD
Mr. President, Major Caldwell here
has a plan to get these hostages of
f the plane.

MARSHALL
I dumped most of the fuel. They’ll
land soon and Delta will take its
shot.

SERGE
A refueling plane is already on it’s
way so we won’t be landing until we
reach Turkmenistan. Your best course
of action is to release me. I will
be merciful.

MAJOR CALDWELL 84.

Sir, maybe we can use this. Turn it to our advantage.

MARSHALL
Mr. Caidwell, the ground’s a few
miles away. How do you propose getting
us from here to there?

MAJOR CALDWELL
Gravity.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

Satellite pictures of various landing strips projected on
wall-sized monitors.

DEAN
Of the three dozen airports in
Turkmenistan, only five have
sufficient runways for a 747. Of
those five, only these three have
shown any activity.

General Northvood points with a laser pointer.

GENERAL NORTPNOOD
But this one here, see this. It’s a
satellite dish and it wasn’t there
two weeks ago. Basic communications
uplink, which suggests extensive
communicatins ability. I’d say this
was the one.

V.P. CHANDLER
Are you confident you can take the
facility?

GENERAL NORTIWOOD
It’s night there for a few more hours.
That’s a real plus. But I won’t lie.
As far as special ops go, this one’s
a bear, but I think we squeeze it
out.

V.P. CHANDLER
Let’s get it going.

AIDE
The Press Secretary’s about to go
on.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

MAJOR CALDWELL
If we can get to a lower altitude,
we can use parachutes, but at this
altitude, we’ll pass out from Oxygen
deprivation.

MARSHALL
We’ve already played our cards, Major.
There’s no turning back.

MAJOR CALDWELL
We can’t jump from here or at this
speed. But if we could get a message
out – tell the refueling plane…

MARSHALL
They’ve cut communication, and I
spent a good bit of time looking for
alternatives. My only solution ran
out of batteries.

A nearby SECRETARY in her late 20’s pipes up.

SECRETARY
The fax machines.

MARSHALL
Excuse me?

SECRETARY
The fax machines.

MARSHALL
(dismissive)
No good. I said they disabled the
communications system.

SECRETARY
No. I thought about this, Mr.

President. Voice lines and faxes are on two completely
different systems of encryption. It’d be easy to overlook
the data systems.

What do they have to lose?

MARSHALL
(to Caldwell)
Get `em ready.
(to secretary)
You… come with me.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Eighteen thousand feet, sir. And two
hundred knots… otherwise it’s
suicide.

MARSHALL
Got it.

INT. CORRIDOR.

Caidwell, holding Serge’s gun, takes position by the front
stairway and waves the other hostages on. They emerge from
the conference room, and move to the stairway.

Marshall and the secretary rush the opposite direction toward
the equipment room.

INT. WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM – DAY

Amid shouting questions, the PRESS SECRETARY alights to the
podium.

PRESS SECRETARY
Please. Quiet please… First let
me… Please… I have a prepared
statement… The White House confirms
that the President’s aircraft, Air
Force One, has been hijacked and is
currently controlled by foreign
nationals.

Murmurs, shouts, and more questions.

REPORTERS
Is the President onboard?/ What about
the First Family?/ What are their
demands?

PRESS SECRETARY
Please… please… For security
reasons I can not comment on any
specifics except to say that the
Vice-President is doing everything
within her power to resolve the
situation.

PULL BACK
T.V. monitor on broadcasting CNN.
We’re in the…

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER – NIGHT

Korshunov turns toward the monitor. Furrows his brow.

KORSHUNOV
And you are almost out of time.

Where is the President?

INT. EQUIPMENT ROOM.

Marshall and the Secretary step over Perkins’ body on the
way to the fax machine.

SECRETARY
Here sir.

Marshall grabs a piece of paper and a pen. Scribbles a note.

SECRETARY
Where are we sending it?

MARSHALL
White House Situation room.

He signs the paper and hands it toher. She slides it into
the machine, checks the listed numbers and dials.

MARSHALL
Someone should give you a raise.

SECRETARY
Actually, sir, you could be that
someone.

They wait… will it work? A few beats, a few beats more.
The machine pulls the paper in and begins scanning.

MARSHALL
It’s yours.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM.

Marshall’s note spits out of one of the fax machines. But in
the bevy of activity, will it be noticed?

INT. UNDERDECK, REAR LOWER GALLEY – NIGHT

Caldwell spins open the rear emergency pressure door and
leads the hostages into…

INT. TAILCONE PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFORM –

A cargo hold extending up the tapered edge of the aircraft’s
rear. The hostages begin pulling parachute packs out of the
overhead storage bins. Helping each other.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS SYSTEM.

Korshunov listens to Zedeck yell into the phone in Russian.

ZEDECK
Still no movement on Stravanavitch.

Korshunov eyes Alice and Rose.

ROSE
Nor will there be. My husband does
not negotiate with terrorists.

KORSHUNOV
You will be the first to pay for
that mistake.

INT. EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

Caidwell assists everyone in strapping on their packs. He
addresses one group, mostly women and senior staff, who belt
into the larger chutes.

MAJOR CALDWELL
These chutes are designed for a safe
slow descent. They’ll deploy off the
line automatically as you step from
the plane.
(turns to another
group, mostly younger
men)
You guys’ll have to pull your own
rip cords. Wait until you’re clear
from the plane, but not any longer.
(he checks packs and
straps)
Once I check you, go stand behind
the yellow line. You’re good. You’re
good. You’re good.

Two neat lines ready to jump. One line on the deployment
wire, and the other set for freefall.

Marshall and the secretary arrive.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Mr. president? pwtsHALL The fax
went through. We can only wait.

MAJOR CAWWELL
Your chute.

MARSHALL
I’ll not going without my family.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Yes, sir.

Caidwell crosses to prep the Launch Ramp controls.

INT. COCKPIT.

The gas gauges read very close to empty. Korshunov Stands
behind Gibbs, while Zedeck keeps an eye on the First Lady.

GIBBS
Where’s that goddamn plane? tNT.
EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

Everybody waits. Caidwell watches the indicator. 30,000 feet.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

A KC-135, the USAF flying gas station, descends in front of
Air Force One.

KC-135 PILOT
Air Force One, this is AF-135-RA. We
have been instructed to refuel your
plane.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT

GIBBS
About goddamn time.

KC-135 PILOT
Please change course to Zero Seven
Four and drop to eighteen thousand
feet. Over.

GIBBS
Air Force One, acknowledged. tNT.
EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

The altimeter begins to fall. A wave of relief washes over
the group.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The KC-135 extends its flying gas pump.

KC-135 PILOT
Air Force One, please reduce speed
to 250 knots.

GIBBS (V.0. RADIO)
Roger.

TNT. AFO FLIGHT DECK.
90.

Okay1 now KC-135 PILOT (V.0. Radio) vent your fueling
system.

It’s the yellow lever on the upper control panel. And next
to that there’s a toggle Switch to open your intake. Got it?

GIBBS
Roger KC-135 PILOT (V.0. Radio)

Air Force One, do you see the fueling arm?

Through the cockpit Window, the long metallic appendage
dangles ahead of the plane.

GIBBS
That’s affirmative.

KC-135 PILOT
Ga get it.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

As Air Force One edges its nose up to the appendage. The
appendage finds it’s grove and slides right in.

TNT. TAILCONE PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFOIW –

MAJOR CALOWELL
That’s it, eighteen thousand feet.

We’re ready.

MARSHALL
What about them?

Marshall indicates the four men without parachutes on. TWO
AIR FORCE CREW MEMBERS, Major Caldwell and Shepherd.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Sir, we stay with the President.

MARSHALL
That isn’t necessary.

None of them changes his mind.

MARSHALL
Thank you.

A silent beat. A few forced smiles in this very tense room.

*
91.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Relax everybody. I used to do this
for a living9 Caidwell pulls a switch
on the wall.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Depressurizing compartment. This `11
take a moment.

The President crosses to one of his aides.

MARSHALL
Hey, by the way… who won the Duke
game?

AIDE
Find out for yourself, sir. I’ll
have it waiting at the White House.

Marshall smiles.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The KC-135 flies above Air Force One, connected by a gasoline
umbilical cord.

INT. EMERGENCY RAMP PLATFORM.

Caldwell breaks safety glass. Reaches into a compartment and
pulls a lever.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Here we go.

A mechanical him and clank gives way to a rush of wind as
the tail section of Air Force One hinges open on hydraulic
struts, extending like a plank behind the plane. We can see
the sky with its angry clouds.

Rushing by at two hundred knots.

INT. FLIGHT DECK.

A LOUD BUZZ

KORSHUNOV
What’s that?

A warning light flashes on the control panel. Tactical Video
Display shows the emergency parachute ramp activating.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck runs toward the conference room. He bursts through
the doors.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM –

Empty.

INT. FRONT HOLD/LOWER GALLEY –

Tracking: Zedeck Sprinting to the rear of the plane.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE –

The tail cone section of Air Force One hinges open and
parachutes begin to blossum from the rear of the plane.

INT. F-15 EAGLE –

From several miles back Carlton watches the chutes emerge.

COL. CARLTON
Here they come.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM.

Radio traffic echos through the room.

COL. CMLTON (V.0.)
We got… okay… so far ten chutes
deploying of f the line. Dropping
signal flares for search and rescue.

INT. ITEAR BAGGAGE HOLD –

Zedeck reaches the emergency pressure door. Through the
porthole he sees the hostages getting away. He tries the
door hatch. Locked.

Zedeck looks around. Crosses to the lower rear galley.

He kicks open the panel on the stove. Rips out the propane
tank. He runs back and wedges the tank into the door lock.

He backs off 50 feet, turns and opens fire on the tank.

The tank explodes, blowing the door out.

EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFORM

The pressure door blows open and an explosion of pressurized
air blasts through the platform.

The remaining parachutists are blown out the rear. Chutes
deploying.

Marshall and Serge are knocked down the ramp, tumbling toward
oblivion. Just as Marshall’s about to slide off the corner
of the ramp he grabs its hydraulic strut.

Plummeting death.

His grip is all that separates his dangling body from a long
Serge tumbles by Marshall, limbs flailing, and with a scream
Woven from a thousand nightma5, he loses his grip and slides
off the ramp into the jetblack sky, falling endlessly.

Shepherd and Caldwell manage to hang to safety webbing as
the

wind whips around them. The two other air force crew members
Without chutes also manage to hang on.

As the plane depressurizes, it BUCKS like a wild bronco.

Marshall looks down into the sky. Below his dangling legs,
parachutes blossoij. He’s straining… he can’t hold on
forever.

INT. COCKPIT –

Gibbs fights the wheel.

Oxygen masks spring out from an overhead compartment as air
is sucked out of the cockpit…

The plane shudders and jumps badly….

KC-135 PILOT (V.0. RADIO)

Air Force One, back off. I repeat, back off.

Gibbs wrestles with the yoke, to no avail.

GIBBS
She’s bucking. I can’t hold her!

KC-135 PILOT (V.0. RADIO)

What are you doing? Back off! Back off!

EXT. SKY –

Air Force One jerks upward, snapping off the fueling arm of
the KC-135.

KC-135 PILOT
LOOK OUT!

The broken edge of the fueling arm scrapes along the top of
Air Force One… metal against metal… tearing a gash in
the plane… Sparks fly.

ONE OF THE SPARKS

ignites the river of gasoline being pumped from the refueling
craft’s belly.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT –

Gibbs Sees the fueling arm catch fire. It doesn’t take a
rocket scientist to figure what’s coming. The flames creep
up toward the gas tanks.

GIBBS
Holy Shiti Gibbs pushes the stick
down and Air Force One begins to
dive to safety.

EXT. SKY –

Air Force One descends.

Whipping fire trails the KC-135.

Slowly rolls it way into the plane’s main tank.

A burning fuse.

BARRROOOOOOOM! A FIRECLOUD ERUPTS ACROSS THE SKY.

Sky like daylight.

From this incredible firecloud, the burned out skeleton of
an airplane emerges, falling toward earth.

The F-15 escort zoom toward the unexpected fireball.

COL. CARLTON
Everybody break. Now! Now! Now!

Carlton’s planes go into emergency climb, standing on their
afterburners to escape the inferno.

INT. EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP –

Marshall hangs on to the strut for dear life as the
pressurized air swooshes by him, taking with it everything
that isn’t nailed down including some of the spare parachutes.

Fire rains down from the heavens, the sky like one giant
napalm nightmare.

The shock wave hits the plane, slamming it violently.

Almost yanking the hyraulic arm from Marshall’s grasp.

The military aides without parachutes lose their footing and
tumble off the platform. SCREAMING as they fall into fire.

EXT. SKY –

The burning KC-135 shell, an apocalyptic Flying Dutchman in
a vengeful Kamikazee dive at Air Force One.

It’s gonna be close.

The flaming shell passes only a few hundred yards to the
rear of the 747.

EXT. PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP –

Marshall’s got a great view. Flames dance in his eyes as he
watches the refueling plane descend.

The brightness subsides, and the sky grows dark again.

The wave of pressurized air subsides leaving Zedeck, Marshall,
Shepherd and Caldwell on the ramp. Caldwell begins edging
toward Marshall.

ZEDECK
Don’t move.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Let me save him.

Marshall barely hangs on.

ZEDECK
That man, he is the president, no?

SHEPHERD
Yes. Yes he is.

Zedeck motions to Caidwell with his gun. “Go get him.”

Caldwell crawls down the ramp and extends his hand to
Marshall.

THE PRESSURE DOOR SLAMMING SHUT –

zedeck leads Marshall, shepherd and Caldwell away.

IPRR. AFO’S FLIGHT DECK –

Gibbs steadies the plane.

KORSHUNOV
Fuel?

Gibbs checks the guages.

GIBBS
More than enough to get us home.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE – EVENING

The sun begins to set along the Potomac in long streaks of
red and pink. The White House lights flicker on uminating
the long staunch columns, the pillars of democracy.

RNT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – EVENING

Tired. Strung out. Bickering within the small workgroups.

Chandler crosses to General Northwood, who has just hung up
the phone.

V.P. CHANDLER
They still have the President, it’s
past their deadline and they haven’t
called. What do you think it means?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Like any good poker player, they’re
checking over their hand seeing which
cards to play and which to discard.

INT. AFO, MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER – NIGHT

Zedeck leads the three hostage into the M.C.C.

Rose and Marshall – their eyes meet. Enormous relief for the
both of them. Marshall smiles at his wife, as she fights
back her tears.

ALICE
(to Korshunov)
He didn’t leave us.

KORSHUNOV
You are a resilient man, Mr.

President.

Zedeck grabs Caldwell’s hands and tapes them behind his back
with duct tape. Rose and Alice already have their hands taped.

KORSHUNQV
You must forgive the tape, but we
were starting to feel outnumbered…

Gibbs!

INT. FLIGHT DECK –

Gibbs puts the plane on automatic pilot. Rises to join the
group.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER –

Korshunov separates Marshall from his family. Waves him into
the Com Officer’s chair. His hands are now wrapped too.

Gibbs enters looking down.

MARSHALL
Special Agent Gibbs. You helped do
this?

GIBBS
Yes, Mr. President.

MARSHALL
Why?

GIBBS
Because it is my duty.

MARSHALL
You’re duty to what? The country you
served doesn’t exist anymore.

GIBBS
My loyalty was never to my country.

I serve my commanding officers.

KORSHUNOV
You don’t think the leaders of the
KGB would allow peristroika to ruin
years of infiltration? No, when the
Soviet Union collapsed, we took our
sleepers with us.

Korshunov holds up a telephone.

KORSHUNOV
Now since we’ve had very little luck
getting Washington or Moscow to
cooperate, I wondered if you would
be so kind.

MARSHALL
Over my dead body.

KORSHUNOV
No. But since I only have a few of
your staff left to kill, perhaps I
will start with your family instead…
Gibbs.

Gibbs grabs Alice and shoves her into a chair. She fights
him off, and he smacks her across the face and shoves his
gun into her neck.

Marshall and Rose struggle against their bonds.

KORSHUNOV
The world is such a dangerous place
and we can’t always protect our
children.

ROSE
Please. You can kill me but leave my
daughter alone.

Korshunov runs his finger down Alice’s cheek.

MARSHALL
She isn’t a part of this. This is
between you and me.

KORSHUNOV
Call up Petrov and order
Stravanavitch’ S release.

Marshall looks to Alice, then Rose, then back to Alice.

MARSHALL
This administration does not negotiate
with terrorists.

KORSHUNOV
Pity. Mr. Gibbs.

Gibbs withdraws his pistol. Places it against Alice’s temple.

KORSHUNOV
Perhaps a President does not
negotiate, but does a father?
(beat)
An interesting choice. Your daughter
versus your world vision. The implicit
trust of a family against your oath
of office.

Tears of fears are streaming down Alice’s face. She looks
into her father’s eyes.

ALICE
Daddy…

MARSHALL
Alice… I…

KORSHUNOV
And once the trigger is pulled, she
is gone forever. Then, I wonder, how
do you live, knowing you could’ve
saved her?

Marshall struggles with his duty. His honor.

KORSHUNOV
And could you ever forget the look
on her face as she ceases to exist…
Late at night, when you think about
her, will Stravanavitch really matter
anymore?

Marshall tries to look away, but Zedeck forces him to watch.

ALICE
Daddy. Daddy, please…

ROSE
Jim… for godsake!

KORSHUNOV
Look inside your heart. No one will
think you weak. Five…

Alice’s face, trying to be brave.

KORSHUNOV
Four…

ROSE
Jim…

KORSHUNOV
Three…

Rose looks away.

KORSHUNOV
Two. .

Alice looks at her father for the very last time. Then shuts
her eyes tight.

KORSHUNOV
One…

Gibbs begins to squeeze the trigger.

MARSHALL
NO!

Korshunov smiles.

MARSHALL
Stop.

KORSHUNOV
You’ll do it?

MARSHALL
Yes, I’ll do it.
(broken)
Just leave my family alone.

KORSHUNOV
Good. Good.

Gibbs withdraws the gun from Alice’s temple. Alice opens her
eyes and gasps for breath.

KORSHUNOV
Bring him the phone…

You are true to your nature, Mr.

President.

MARSHALL
Someday, you’ll regret my nature.

KORSHUNOV
You don’t like seeing people get
hurt. Now in morality, that is a
virtue. In politics, however, that
is weakness.
(beat)
You were a hostage to everyone else
* long before you
were a hostage to

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

A sleepless Petrov paces back and forth, smoking a cigarette.

The phone RINGS. He looks up expectantly as his aide answers.

AIDE
Sir, the President of the United
States wishes to speak with you.

Petrov stops in mid-pace. Considers his cigarette for a moment
and then walks over to the phone.

PETROV
Mr. President.

INT. PRISON CELL – NIGHT

A guard walks down the cold steel hallway. He rattles the
bar of a darkened cage, he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks
the door.

GUARD
Stravanavitch.

Stravanavitch awakes, and leans forward into the light. He
and the guard trade looks. After a beat, the guard turns and
retreats down the the hallway.

Stravanavitch rises from his bunk and approaches the cell
door. He leans against it and it swings open.

INT. M.C.C. – NIGHT

Rose stares at Marshall. Her look is hard to read. Distant…
cold, perhaps.

ROSE
Can my husband sit next to me?

Korshunov considers the pair. Hands taped behind their back.

They’re harmless. Korshunov nods.

Marshall rises and joins her on the pilot’s rest bunk.

ROSE
I don’t know why you stayed.

MARSHALL
Please… don’t start with me.

Rose moves closer to him, and speaks in a low voice.

ROSE
There’s something I need to tell
you… and God knows if I’ll ever
get another chance.

From behind, we see her push his taped hands away.

He looks at her quizically.

ROSE
No matter what happens, you have
been and always will be my hero.

He feels the wall behind him. A dull edge of metal twisted
slightly from the earlier cockpit door explosion.

He understands.

MARSHALL
And you have always been my guardian
angel.

She smiles back at him.

ROSE
I will never regret my life with
you.

Behind Marshall’s back, he begins to cut away at the duct
tape.

INT. MOSCOW CENTRAL PRISON, HALLWAY – NIGHT

Ivan Stravanavitch walks down the long prison hallway. Other
PRISONERS see him and begin banging on their bars in rhythm.

As he parades down the corridor, the banging grows until it
becomes deafening. Stravanavitch smiles a cocky smile.

One by one, guard doors swing open in front of him. In fact,
a few of the HACKS salute Stravanavitch as he passes.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER – AIR FORCE ONE

The communication board beeps and Zedeck picks up the line.

He exchanges some words with the caller in Russian, then
hangs up the phone.

SERGE
It’s confirmed. Stravanavitch is on
his way out. Our men are waiting
outside.

Korshunov smiles and puts his hand on Zedeck’s shoulder.

ROSE
You got what you wanted. You going
to release us now?

KORSHUNOV
You’re very valuable. And our nation
needs so many things.

Marshall leans his head against the wall. Just as he expected.

MARSHALL
Could I… Could I have some water?

Korshunov nods, motions Zedeck to take care of it. Zedeck
reluctanty descends to the main cabin.

KORSHUNOV
The taste of defeat is bitter, no?

MARSHALL
One thing I’ve learned as

President… all defeats are temporary and all victories are
temporary. Today’ 5 conquerers are tomorrow’s vanquished.

KORSHUNOV
e Very poetic.

Zedeck arrives with a glass of water.

MARSHALL
And there’s one thing I’ve learned
from being a sports fan.

Zedeck brings the cup of water to Marshall’s lips. Marshall
tips his head back to receive it.

KORSHUNOV
And that is?

Water spills over Marshall’s face. He shakes it off.

MARSHALL
It ain’t over, til it’s over.

With blinding speed, Marshall leaps to his feet and swings
his arm around Zedeck’s throat. He snaps Zedeck’s neck with
quiet efficency.

Gibbs fires at Marshall, but Marshall, using Zedeck as a
shield, grabs hold of the terrorist’sMP5 and lets loose…
mowing down the former Secret Service agent.

The rest of Gibb’s shots pelt against the cockpit controls
sending showers of sparks flying.

Korshunov whips out his gun and lines up a clean shot at
Marshall’s head.

MAJOR CALDWELL
Mr. President.

Korshunov fires at Marshall, but…

Major Caidwell dives in front of the bullet spray taking the
rounds in his chest.

Marshall turns his aim to Korshunov… but Korshunov grabs
Alice and presses his pistol to her head.

Stand-off.

KORSHUNOV
Don’t be hasty.

Marshall holds Korshunov in his sights. Slowly advancing.

KORSHUNOV
You love your daughter, Mr.

President. And I love my country.

It’s a fair trade.

Korshunov backs away to the steps. Marshall does not lower
his gun. Korshunov disappears down the staircase.

MARSHALL
Shepherd.

SHEPHERD
Sir…

Shepherd stands. Marshall unwraps Shepherd’s hands.

MARSHALL
Call Petrov…
(to Rose)
I’ll be back.

ROSE
Both of you.

Marshall slowly descends the steps to the main cabin. As
soon as Shepherd gets her hands loose, Rose rushes to
Caidwell’s aid. Shepherd crosses to the communications panel
and picks up a headset. Begins dialing numbers

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

In his nightdress, Stoli Petrov nurses a vodka on ice. His

PHONE RINGS.

PETROV
Petrov.

Petrov’s eyes widen.

EXT. MOSCOW PRISON EXERCISE YARD – NIGHT

A wall of bars part and Stravanavitch walks through. Into
the main exercise yard.

The main gate separates him from…

A group of men wait in the street by a limousine.

The main gate opens slowly.

When the men sees Stravanavitch they come to attention and
salute him. Stravanavitch returns the salute. And then starts
his march toward his limousine…

A SIREN WAILS. LIGHTS FLOOD THE INSIDE AND OUTSIDE OF THE
PRISON.

The front gate begins to close. Worry crosses Stravanavitch’s
face. His men rush toward him, take position by the gate.

Stravanavitch breaks into a run toward his limousine.

GUARD
Halt! Halt!

Stravanvitch looks behind him. Guards rushing toward him
from the yard… the limousine fifty yards ahead of him…
closing fast…

On the limo… the back door open and waiting.

A shot rings out from the guard tower, followed by another,
and another. Like popcorn starting to pop. Stravanavitch’s
men return fire. A minor war breaks out. Loyal guards battling
Stravanavitch sympathizers.

Stravanavitch caught in the middle, hit by one bullet, then
another, then another. He makesit to the open rear door of
the limousine, but collapses dead.

Everyone stops firing. Stravanavitch’s men rush to his side..

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Petrov slips under the covers as an aide knocks on his door.

PETROV
What is it?

AIDE
It’s about Stravanvaitch.

PETROV
What about him?

AIDE
He’s dead, sir. Shot while trying to
escape.

A beat.

PETROV
So be it. The world will sleep easier.

Petrov turns out his bedside light.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MAIN CABIN – NIGHT

Marshall ascends down from the upper deck. Spots Korshunov
by the front stairway. Korshunov pushes Alice down the stairs
to the underdeck.

INT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

Autopilot engaged. A shower of sparks erupts from one of the
bulletholes in the panel.

Directional compass… the course heading drifts off to the
south.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The squadron of F-15 still surround Air Force One, which
slowly banks to one side.

INT. F-15 COCKPIT – NIGHT

COL. CARLTON
They’ve changed their bearing.
(into headset)
Air Force One. Air Force One.

Over… Air Force One please respond…

FIGHTER PILOT #1
Sir, this new bearing. We’re headed
for Iraq, sir.

INT. PILOT’S REST AREA.

Unaware of the course drift, Shepherd and Rose lift Caldwell
onto a bunk.

ROSE
Easy, Major. Easy.

MAJOR CALDWELL
The President?

ROSE
You saved his life.

Caidwell smiles, settles peacefully back in the cot. He dies.

Rose reaches up and shuts his eyes.

INT. LOWER GALLEY – NIGHT

Marshall makes his way through the dimness. Stepping
cautiously.

A shot rings out and richochets off a piece of piping right
over Marshall’s head.

Undaunted Marshall advances.

MARSHALL
It’s over, Korshunov. You won. Now
let her go.

He listens, footsteps ahead of him.

ON Korshunov – holding Alice by her hair, practically dragging
her over the mid-section wing cross-braces.

As Marshall appears in the gangway he fires off another shot,
hitting a cooling vent. Steam fills the’ gangway area, bathed
in red auxiliary lighting.

Korshunov retreats toward the rear of the plane.

MARSHALL (O.S.)
There’s nowhere to go.

INT. CONTROL TOWER – NIGHT

SUPER – “HUSSEIN AIR BASE, NORTHERN IRAQ”

A cacophony of Arabic. The radar indicates an apparent
invasion force heading for its borders.

EXT. AIR FIELD – NIGHT

Iraqi pilots rush to their MiGs.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

All eyes on the tactical display… Air Force One’s course
has arced south and the plane is heading straight for Iraq.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
They aren’t answering their hails.

DEAN
This doesn’t make sense.

V.P. CHANDLER
How close are they?

GENERAL NORTHiqOOD Fifteen miles, so two minutes.

LEE
The Iraqi Ambassador won’t take our
calls. We’re trying to get through
to their Central Command.

DEAN
To tell them what? The great infidel
himself is flying overhead, Go get
him? This is a man they burn in effigy
daily.

V.P. CHANDLER
If challenged, our fighters are to
state that they are on a rescue
mission.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Iraqi’s won’t buy it. Either they’re
already in on this or they’ll think
we’re spying.

V.P. CHANDLER
If fired upon, tell our fighters
that they are ordered to engage.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD – NIGHT

Marshall checks behind the racks of stored goods and luggage.

P.O.V. LOOKING DOWN A GUNSIGHT AS MARSHALL WALKS INTO THE

open.

A finger on the trigger.

ALICE
Dad, look out.

Korshunov fires and Marshall dives out of the way. He cones
up in defensive crouch ready to shoot, but all he can see is
Alice.

MARSHALL
How you doing, sweetie?

ALICE
Been better, Dad… You?

Marshall smiles briefly. But Alice is yanked around the
corner. Marshall hears foatsteps. He junps to his feet and
cautiously follows.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – EVENING

On the tactical display as a second group of fighters appear.
ready to challenge the F-l5’s.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Air Force One and the cluster of F-15’s zoom by.

COL. CARLTON
Air Force one… please respond. Air
Force One, you are entering hostile
air space. Air Force one…

All Carlton receives is static.

INT. AFO’S COCKPIT.

Nobody at the wheel. The automatic pilot is still engaged.

INT. F-15 EAGLE COCKPIT.

Con. CARLTON Okay, guys, time to earn your paychecks. Stay
in protective formation, and do not engage, I repeat, do not
engage… unless you are fired upon. All wings acknowledge.

FIGHTER PILOT #1
Halo one, acknowledged.

FIGHTER PILOT #2
Halo two, acknowledged.

The rest of the pilots chime in.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, LOWER AFT GALLEY – NIGHT

Marshall swings into the cubicle… empty.

He crosses to the cargo bay/parachute launch ramp hatchway.

Looks through the porthole.

Korshunov straps on one of the few remaining parachutes. He
tosses the rest of the spares out onto the platform.

Marshall steps onto the platform. Korshunov fires off a round
forcing him behind the door for cover.

Korshunov pulls Alice in front of him and yanks down the
ramp activation lever.

KORSHUNOV
Stay where you are.

The ramp lowers, and Alice gets her first look at the drop.

Marshall watches the remaining parachutes slide off the ramp
and into the stormy sky.

KORSHUNOV
There goes your ride.

MARSHALL
Let my daughter go or I’ll take you
out!

KORSHUNOV
If you put down the gun, I promise
not to drop her on the way down.

Korshunov backs toward the edge of the ramp, pulling a
struggling and fighting Alice.

MARSHALL
Let her go now! Or I will kill you.

Korshunov is a foot away from the edge of the ramp… two
steps back, he and Alice will take the plunge.

Marshall lines up his shot. Korshunov laughs as he presses
his pistol to Alice’s ear.

KORSHUNOV
No you won’t. You’ll compromise…
like always.

MARSHALL
Hold on, Alice.

Marshall fires, his bullet ripping apart a good deal of
Korshunov’s face and snapping his body back.

Korshunov tumbles off the platform, but his limbs are caught.
in Alice’s. She’s knocked to her belly and his dead weight
drags her off the edge of the platform.

ALICE
NO!

Marshall dives down the sloping platform, reaching out for
her…

Alice tries to grip the platform with her hands, but she
can’t hold on. Her hand slip off the metallic lip.

But as she falls, she’s caught by the wrist. Strong arms
pull her up. Her father’s arms. He carries her back to the
safety of the plane. She’s sobs uncontrollably.

ALICE
Oh NY god… oh my god… oh my god…

MARSHALL
It’s okay, honey. I got you. I got
you. You’re okay.

Shepherd and Rose appear. Marshall locks eyes with Rose…
smiles. Shepherd crosses to the parachute bins.

MARSHALL
Gone. They’re all gone.

The plane shakes with the thunder of a supersonic boom.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

A half dozen MiGs race by the cluster of American aircraft
at breakneck speeds.

INT. IRAQI CONTROL TOWER – NIGHT

GENERAL CERALLOS eyes the radar.

IRAQI SOLDIER
The Americans say they are escorting
a damaged plane. Our pilots confirm
they are surrounding a 747.

CERALLOS
Did we warn them off?

IRAQI SOLDIER
Yes. They refused to alter course
and the 747 would not answer our
hails.

Cerallos takes a moment, looking at the screen.

CERALLOS
It’s some kind of trick… a
preliminary airstrike in response to
our troop movement.

IRAQI SOLDIER
They are in our airspace. We would
be within our rights.

CERALLOS
The world would not look on us kindly
if we shot down a civilian airliner.

The Soldier listens to chatter coning over his headset.

IRAQI SOLDIER
The pilot says it is does not have
the markings of a commercial jet.

CERALLOS
Warn then again. If they don’t
respond… shoot them down. We will
not be intimidated.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER – NIGHT

Another sonic boom.

MARSHALL
What is that sound?

Marshall makes his way to the cockpit.

Through the cockpit window, a MiG accelerates out of the
darkness coming straight at us. At the last second it pulls
up slightly, riding over the top of the 747.

Its sonic boom rocks the jumbo jet.

MARSHALL
My god. I think that was a MiG.

SHEPHERD
A MiG? Where the hell are we?

Marshall rushes back to one of the rear upper deck windows.

He looks out at the F-l5s.

MARSHALL
They’re flying a protection formation.
(beat)
Call D.C. Find out what’s going on.

INT. COCKPIT, F-15 EAGLE – NIGHT

MIS PILOT (V.0.)
This is your last warning. You are
violating our airspace. Leave
immediately.

COL. CARLTON
I said back off and hold your fire.

We are on a rescue mission. Do not engage. I repeat, do not
engage.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

A MiG loops into position behind Carlton.

INT. MIG COCKPIT – NIGHT

switches his targeting computer on. Finds carlton in his
sights. Good tone.

The pilot pulls the trigger.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The missile detaches from the MiG and slides toward Carlton.

Carlton breaks formation, leading the missile astray. His
plane tucks into a tight little roll. The missile misses
over Carlton’s rolling wings.

COL. CARLTON
Halo Team, this is group leader.

Halo Team is cleared to engage. I repeat, you are cleared to
engage.

Carlton pulls his plane into a monster climb.

COL. CARLTON
This is the real thing boys. Let’s
fly and fry.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

A ringing phone is answered by an aide. A few beats.

AIDE
It’s the Chief of Staff calling…
from Air Force One. They’ve retaken
control of the aircraft.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
Then tell him to get the fuck out of
Iraq.

INT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

Marshall settles into the pilot’s chair. Shepherd comes in.

SHEPHERD
Iraq, sir. We’re over Iraq.

MARSHALL
Iraq? Shep, you’re fired.

Marshall looks at the plane’s bearing. The instruments are
shot to hell.

MARSHALL
Shit.

SHEPHERD
How long’s it been since you flew,
sir?

MARSHALL
Twenty-five years.

EXT. SKY –

An F-15 follows a MiG into a barrel roll.

INT. MIG COCKPIT – NIGHT

The MIG pilot targets Air Force One. He cuts his speed as he
lines up his shot. Gets a lock.

MIG PILOT
(arabic/subtitle)
I have radar lock on the 747.

INT. COCKPIT – AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

On tactical computer – “RADAR LOCK”

“Dis-Engaging Auto-pilot”

The plane banks left into a dive. Marshall grabs the yoke.

INT. MIG COCKPIT –

Finger on the trigger.

MIG PILOT
It’s evading. Can I take the shot?

MIG LEADER (V.0.)
Take the shot.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Looking forward from underneath an F-15, the MiG heads toward
Air Force One. The F-15 fires a sidewinder.

On the MIG… as it fires its missile. The F-15’s sidewinder
blows the MIG up, taking the missile with it.

Air Force One is clear… for the time being.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT – NIGHT

MARSHALL STRUGGLES TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE 747. HE OVER-

compensates and the plane rocks side-to-side.

ROSE
What are you doing?

MARSHALL
Flying the plane.

ROSE
You haven’t even driven a car since
you took office.

Marshall checks out the tactical display.

MARSHALL
I’m sure it’s like riding a bicycle…
downhill with no brakes and somebody
shooting at you.

Marshall finds the throttle, pushes it up all the way. He
feels the plane out, gently nudges it into a turn.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Two MiGs flare out of an engagement with the F-15’s and break
toward Air Force One.

COL. CARLTON
We got two on the loose. Someone get
on them.

FIGHTER PILOT #2
Halo Two… I can’t get there in
time.

COL. CARLTON
Bullshit. Do it.

The two MiGs lock onto Air Force One. Each fires a missile
at the President’s plane, before breaking in opposite
directions.

INT. AFO COCKPIT – NIGHT

A red buzz. It’s all Marshall can do to keep the plane flying
straight.

MARSHALL
We got two coming at us!

Tactical Countermeasures Computer… as it tracks the
incomings…

“Heat Seekers”

“Launching Flares”

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Brightly burning flares launch from either side of Air Force
One’s wings and descend toward earth.

The missiles follow the heat of the flares, plummeting
harmlessly to earth.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT – NIGHT

The shock waves from a nearby MiG explosion shakes the plane.

In the aftermath, Marshall takes a moment and pulls on the
pilot’s headset.

MARSHALL
U.S. Pilots, this is Air Force One.

COL. CARLTON
Copy Air Force One. Welcome to the
party.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (V.0.)

I’m on it.

INT. AFO COCKPIT – NIGHT’

MARSILALL
Can you… can you drop in front of
me? I’ll follow you out.

COL. CARLTON
Hang tough, I’m on my way.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

On the two MiG’s heading for Air Force One.

An F-15 drops in behind them. The MiGs scissor and break in
OPPosite directions. The F-l5 can only follow one of them.

FIGHTER PILOT 11
I’m tight on one, the other’s loose.

I need help down here.

The other MiG comes up on the 747 and opens fire with his
CANNONS. The shells rip up the surface of the aircraft’s
wing. The MiG swoops past Air Force One and jerks into a *
vertical.

On the damaged wing – Fuel starts leaking out and the outer
jet engine catches fire.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Red warning light flashes on the control panel.

MARSHALL
We’re hit. We’ve got an engine on
fire.

COT. CAALTON (V.0.)
Shut it down. Shut it down.

Marshall reaches over and toggles the shutoff switch.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

The engine whirs to a halt and the rushing wind blows out
the fire. But now she’s only got three engines.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Through the cockpit window, an F-15 settles in front of Air
Force One… Flames pouring out of its tail. Under any other
condition, it would be pretty. Alice, Rose and Shepherd watch
Marshall fly.

MARSHALL
This is President Marshall. I know
you guys are busy, but we need some
help here.

INT. CARLTON’S F-15 COCKPIT – NIGHT

Canton in pursuit of a Mis.

COL. CARLTON
Mr. President, it’s an honor. Now
with your permission can we lead you
the fuck out of here.

MARSHALL
You read my mind.

COL. CARLTON
Put your pilot on.

MARSHALL
He’s busy being dead.

Carlton breaks left, lines up a MiG and fires. He nails the
Iraqi aircraft.

COL. CARLTON
Who’s flying the fucking plane?

MARSHALL
I’m doing what I can.

COL. CAELTON
Can you, can you change your heading
to Zero Four One point six?

MARSHALL
Negative. We’ve lost navagition. I
don’t know where that is.

Buzzer sounds in Carlton’s cockpit. He’s been locked on.

COL. CARLTON
Oh shit. Hang on. Somebody help me
out. I got one up my ass.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Carlton puts his plane into a triple canopy roll then slams
on his airbreaks. The MiS shoots by him and Carlton lets
loose with his CANNONS. The MiG pulls up and disengages.

COL. CARLTON
Two and three are heading toward the
Boeing.

COL. CARLTON
Okay. We’re gonna arc a fat one to
the right. Got it?

MARSHALL
Got it.

COL. CARLTON
Stay cool.

Canton’s plane edges around to the right… and Marshall
follows. The 747 leans at an angle and continues the turn
until the F-15 is dead ahead. Another plane explodes ahead
of him at three o’clock.

MARSHALL
How we doing, Colonel?

COL. CARLTON
We still got three MiGs running around
and six more on the way.

Can’t you fly any faster?

IRA’. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

All eyes are glued to the tactical screen, showing the
dogfight. They listen to the radio traffic.

MARSHALL
We’re at full throttle.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (V.0.)

Air Force One, MiGs four and five are on your tail.

MARSHALL
Well get `em off me, goddamnit.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Two MiGs targeting the big bird.

FIGHTER PILOT #1
I can’t get a lock. Break right.

Break right.

INT. AFO COCKPIT – NIGHT

Marshall struggles with his stick turning the aircraft to
the right.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Of course its pointless. The Boeing is a fucking sloth
compared to these fighters.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT – NIGHT

The familiar buzz. Tactical computer. “RADAR LOCK”

Alice notices the computer. At the upper right hand of the
screen, the computer displays Defensive Mode/Offensive Mode.

Defensive Mode is highlighted.

ALICE
Daddy, look. It says…

Alice reaches out and touches the screen.

MARSHALL
Not now, pumpkin.

Alice’s touch activates offensive mode.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

Along the belly of the aircraft, two hatches pivot open,
revealing a series of missiles.

SKY – AS THE F-15 JOCKEYS WITH THE `NO MIGS

FIGHTER PILOT #1
I can’t get good tone.

COL. CARLTON
Take the shot.

The F-15 fires, but the Sidewinder screams past the turning
HiGs.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT – NIGHT

Tactical computer… Over graph display.

“Offensive Counter Measures Activatedw “Launching Missiles”

ERR. AIR FORCE ONE –

The Flying White House launches two sparrow missiles. The
MiGs release flares, but the Sparrows don’t flinch.

Twin FIREBALLS erupt in the sky as the Mics evaporate.

But from the fireball, a MISSILE emerges coming right at Air
Force One.

Closing fast.

FIGHTER PILOT #2
Boss, they got one off.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

On the console… sparks fly.

Tactical computer flashes… “SYSTEM FAILURE”

“Missile Locked”

MARSHMj What did you touch? What did you touch!?

ALICE
Nothing!

Marshall checks display.

MARSHALL
Oh shit. It’s got us.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The missile has Air Force One dead to rights, crawling right
up its tail pipe.

Just before its about to hit the plane…

FIGHTER PILOT 11
YAAAAAAAAH!

An F-15 swoops up from below. Like a Secret Service agent
during an assassination attempt…

The F-15 takes the bullet in its mid-section. BOOM!

The blast slams bits of the fighter plane against Air Force
One. Rocking it badly. Chunks of the plane rip away metal
sheeting on the 747’s wings and tail section.

INT. F-15 COCKPIT – NIGHT

COL. CARLTON
We got six more bogeys, closing fast
from the south.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

A squadron of Navy F-14s drops into the theatre. The cavalry.

NAVY SQUADRON LEADER (V.0.)

You Air Force boys get that plane out of here. We’ll take
care of those MiGs.

COL. CARLTON
Roger that. Kick ass, Navy.

NAVY SQUADRON LEADER (V.0.)

That’s affirmative.

INT. COCKPIT – NIGHT

Marshall works the controls of the 747. Tries to engage the
automatic pilot. The system is fried. Marshall wrestles with
the yoke.

MARSHALL
Uh, we got a problem here.

COL. CARLTON
Just stay on my wing, sir. I’ll take
you all the way in.

MARSHALL
No. We’re losing fuel and my rudder’s
not responding.

COL. CARLTON
Lemme take a look.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Canton pulls up and drops back over the plane. He looks down
at the Boeing’s wing.

COL. CARLTON
Aw, man. You’re torn up pretty bad
out here, sir. Do you have any
elevater control.

MARSHALL
Sluggish… I think it’s jammed too.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

COL. CARLTON
Uh, Tower, we got a problem up here.

Sir, I got some bad news. Air Force One… there’s no way
they can bring it down. Plane’s damaged, it’s unlandable.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT – NIGHT

Marshall looks out the side cockpit window, sees Carlton’s F-
15 fly steady with his.

COL. CARLTON
I’m sorry, sir.

Carlton salutes Marshall. Marshall returns it.

MARSHALL
Thanks for your help, Colonel.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

General Northwood collapses into his chair.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
They’ve got no chutes. They can’t
control the plane, their engines are
failing and they’re losing fuel.

DEAN
I prefered the terrorists.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
That’s game, set, and match. There’s
nothing to do, except call the Chief
Justice.

V.P. CHANDLER
The Chief Justice? What on earth
for?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
To swear you in as President.

Dead silence in the room.

General Greely ambles over to the tactical map and just stares
at it. He loosens his tie and scratches his head.

GENERAL GREELY
Where’s your strike team, General?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD
On their way back to Turkey. Why?

GENERAL GREELY
I just had the craziest idea.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

KC-lO Transport plane.

KC-lO PILOT Romeo Tango Zulu. We copy. Change of Orders
acknowledged. We are en route.

The KC-lO banks into a turn.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE – MIGHT

Alice, Rose and Shepherd stand behind the pilot’s seat.

MARSHALL
(into header)
Is it our only option? – Then do it.

Marshall looks to the others.

MARSHALL
We’re now over the Black Sea, so
even if they could get us chutes
we’d drown or die of hypothermia

before they could get to us. We’ve got one other option
though…

EXT. WHITE HOUSE – NIGHT

Standard news shot. CNN REPORTER facing the camera.

REPORTER
incredible, yet unconfirmed reports,
of White House staff members
parachuting from the plane while the
President himself battled these
terrorists.

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

A family gathers around their T.V. set to hear the report.

REPORTER (TELEVISION)
Yet now, in a bizarre twist of events,
CNN has learned that Air Force One
has been severly crippled and is
virtually unlandable and our sources
report that the First Family is
trapped onboard. A daring mid-air
rescue operation is said to be
underway.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

MARSHALL
How long’s it been?

SHEPHERD
Twenty five minutes. They should be
here any moment.

MARSHALL
They better. Fuel’s almost gone.

Up ahead, navagation lights.

ALICE
There they are!

MARSHALL
Okay, I’m slowing us down.

INT. MAIN CABIN – NIGHT

Shepherd crosses to the forward cabin door. He follows
directions for emergency door release.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

The emergency door opens and the emergency raft/slide deploys.
It inflates before being ripped from the aircraft, gently
wafting through stormy clouds.

INT. MAIN CABIN – NIGHT

Air rushes past the airplane at two hundred miles an hour.

SHEPHERD
IT’S OPEN!

INT. COCKPIT –

MARSHALL
DO YOU SEE TEEM?

INT. CABIN – NIGHT

ROSE (O.S.)
CAN YOU SEE THEM?

Shepherd looks out into the night sky. Inky blackness and
greying clouds. The horizon, though, lightens as dawn
approaches.

Shepherd spots navigational lights descending from above.

SHEPHERD
HERE THEY COME!

EXT. KC-LO TRANSPORT – NIGHT

It’s side cargo door is wide open. Army Rangers begin winching
out three-inch wide cable.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The KC-lO pratically on top of Air Force One. Separated by
forty feet. Super flying.

The cable slaps against the side of Air Force One and drags
along it’s edge. As it slides past the open doorway, Shepherd
grabs it and hauls it into the plane until he has its end.
He hooks the cable to a metal clasp at the top of the door
frame.

SHEPHERD
WE’RE HOOKED!

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT –

MARSHALL
We’re hooked. Hove into position.

KC-LO PILOT (RADIO)
Romeo Tango Zulu, acknowledged. We
are assuming position.

A red light flashes on the control panel. Engine number two
grinds to a halt. The pressure guages drop to zero.

MARSHALL
Get going. We don’t have much time
left.

Rose bends down and kisses Marshall on the cheek.

ROSE
I love you. I just wanted you to
know that.

Marshall holds her with his eye.

MARSHALL
I love you too.
(beat)
We’re going to make it.

Alice throws her arms around her father.

ALICE
My school play’s Tuesday night.

Promise me you’ll be there.

MARSHALL
I promise.

Guages show fuel is low on the remaining turbofans.

EXT. SKY –

The transport plane dips into a lateral position. The two
planes are connected by a hundred yards of cable.

FIVE ARMY RANGERS in snatch harnesses slide down the cable
bridge onto Air Force Onefr As they hit the open doorway,
they unclip and sail into the main cabin.

ARMY RANGER #1
Let’s get you folks out of here.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – EVENING

Electronics department. Banks of television sets. Shoppers
watch intently. The audio broadcast plays over a map of the
region and a graphic of Air Force One.

KC-LO PILOT (V.0.)
Tower, Air Force One has been boarded.

TOWER (V.0.)
Romeo Tango Zulu, copy One the
television, graphics of the First
Family against the Presidential Seal.

REPORTER
You’re listening to an intercepted
audio feed of radio communications
between Air Force One and Army Special
Forces, flying side-by-side,
attempting to get the first family
off the damaged aircraft.

INT. MAIN CABIN –

Three Army Rangers harness themselves `to the survivors. One
to Alice, one to Rose and one to Shepherd. The other two
head for the cockpit.

Alice and her Ranger are ready.

ARMY RANGER
We’re set.

ALICE
Mon…

ROSE
You can do it, baby.

ARMY RANGER
Hold on tight. The first step’s a
bitch.

Alice takes a deep breath, closes her eyes…

The soldier clips on the cable, and shoves off the lip of
the doorway, SAILING DOWN THE WIRE.

They plummet, Alice screaming. The line goes taut.

The pair slide the hundred yards to the KC-lO. Rangers grab
them and bring them into the transport.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – EVENING

Shoppers listen to television sets, galvanized.

KC-lO PILOT The first daughter is on-board.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE – NIGHT

With a smile.

MARSHALL
Acknowledged.

Two Army Rangers approach the cockpit.

ARMY RANGER #1
Mr. President!

Army Ranger #2 slides into the co-pilot’s seat.

ARMY RANGER #2
I’ll take it, sir. You get going.

INT. MAIN CABIN – NIGHT

Rose clips on to a Ranger’s harness.

ROSE
Ready!

They clip on the wire, move to the lip, and rappel off the
side of the plane.

INT. AFO UPPER DECK – NIGHT

As the first Ranger leads Marshall through the M.C.C.

WHEN A SHOT RINGS OUT…

The soldier at the flight yoke slumps over dead.

Marshall and the first Ranger swing around to see…

A bloody but smiling Gibbs, lying on the deck, clutching an

MP5.

The Ranger draws his weapon…

But Gibbs swings his rifle around. Pulls the trigger. BAM.

BAM. BAM. Hitting the Ranger.

The Ranger returns fire, shooting round after round at Gibbs
before pitching over, dead.

Gibbs draws a bead on the President, smiles… but he doesn’t
have any strength left to pull the trigger. He expires.

And the plane begins to dive. Marshall runs for the cockpit.

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Rose and her Ranger are pulled aboard the transport.

INT. MAIN CABIN –

Shepherd and his Ranger clip onto the wire, but the KC-lO is
now higher than Air Force One.

INT. AFO COCKPIT –

With Marshall back at the yoke.

KC-LO PILOT
Air Force One, you’re losing altitude.

MARSHALL
I can’t hold it!

HANG ON. KC-LO PILOT (V.0.)

EXT. SN – NIGHT

The KC-lO transport dips lower and lower, trying to maintain
its position under the descending plane.

KC-LO PILOT
Tower, Romeo Tango Zulu. The First
Lady is onboard. Air Force One,
status?

MARSHALL
We’ve lost two of your men. There’s
no one to fly the plane.

KC-L0 PILOT (V.0.)
We can send another one over.

MARSHALL
No time. I only have one engine left.

INT. MAIN CABIN – NIGHT

ARMY RANGER
Come on!

SHEPHERD
What about the President?

ARMY RANGER
He’s on his way.

With the KC-lO back in the Position, Shepherd and his Ranger
shove off the dying plane toward safety.

TNT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

KC-L0 PILOT
The Chief of Staff is onboard. We
are at six thousand feet descending
rapidly.

Everyone’s biting their nails.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT – NIGHT

MARSHALL
I can’t stabilize it.

KC-LO PILOT
Sir, we’re going to pound pavement
in less than three minutes.

Marshall holds the yoke in one hand and unclips the snatch
harness from the dead ranger in the co-pilot’s seat.

The last red light on the engine control panel starts to
flash.

MARSHALL
I’M LOSING NUMBER FOUR!

Marshall, still fighting the yoke, stands. He takes a deep
breatn, drops the wheel and runs like a motherfucker for the
stairs.

EXT. SICY, AIR FORCE ONE.

Drops into a banking twist.

The cable line runs taut.

The KC-lO tries to compensate.

TNT. CABIN
Marshall dives down the stairs from
the upper deck, comes up sprinting
for the door.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT –

Engine four fails.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

KC-1O PILOT (V.0.)
She’s out of control. I can’t pace
her.

INT. MAIN CABIN –

The taut straining cable snaps one corner of the metal clasp.

The clasp starts to bend.

IN SLOW MOTION –

MARSHALL sprinting to the open door.

The clasp twisting. The cable hook ready to slip of f it.

Marshall clips on, and dives out of the door. He slides forty
feet down, when….

The clasp gives. The cable line snaps away from the plane…
one end connected to the KC-l0, the other connected to…

Nothing.

EXT. SKY

Marshall slides down the cable, gripping at it, trying to
break his fall.

Air Force One plummets toward the water.

Marshall sliding, right behind it, running out of cable.

At the end of his rope, literally. Marshall’s harness snags
on the end clasp. He hangs on for dear life.

Moments later Air Force One impacts.

A huge EXPLOSION, water and flames blows sky high into the
night.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM –

KC-LO PILOT
Tower. Air Force One is down…

INT. SPORTS BAR – EVENING

Dead silence as all the patrons stare up at the T.V.

KC-1O PILOT
I repeat, Air Force One is down.

TOWER
Romeo Tango Zulu. Do you have the
President?

No response…

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

TOWER
Romeo Tango Zulu, please respond. Do
you have the President? Over.

Still no response…

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

The massive fireball and glowing remains of the Presidential
aircraft almost reaches up to where the President struggles
to hold on to the end of the cable.

INT. KC-LO TRANSPORT

ARMY RANGER
Winch it up! Winch it up!

EXT. SKY – NIGHT

Marshall slipping off the line, unable to get a solid hold.

His hands slick with blood.

The belly of the KC-lO gets closer and closer.

MARSHALL
Come on. Ten mare seconds.

He closes his eyes. His fingers begin to give.

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

All over America, families, gathered around their televisions,
wait.

TOWER
Romeo Tango Zulu, do you have the
President? Over.

KC-LO PILOT
Stand by.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – NIGHT

TOWER
Romeo Tango Zulu1 this is Tower.

Please report. over.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

A long beat of silence, then…

TOWER
Romeo Tango Zulu, do you copy? Do
you have the President?

Another long beat.

KC-LO PILOT
We copy. Stand by…
(beat)
Tower?

TOWER
Tower, here.

KC-LO PILOT
This is Romeo Tango Zulu changing
call signs.
(beat)
Tower, alert air traffic, Romeo Tango
Zulu is now Air Force One.
(beat)
This is Air Force One… The President
is safe onboard.

TOWER
Copy, Air Force One.

Cheers flood the situation room.

Cheers flood the Department Store.

Cheers flood the press room, the living room, the sports
bars, churches, schools, construction sites, hospitals…
all across America.

INT. KC-1O HOLD – DAWN

Marshall huddles tight with Rose and Alice as a MEDIC attends
to their wounds.

ARMY RANGER
Mr. President?

Marshall turns to see this soldier, a fresh-faced, 19-year-
old kid, saluting his Commander-in-chief.

ARMY RANGER
Welcome aboard, sir.

Marshall returns the salute.

EXT. SKY – DAWN

The KC-1O soars into the emerging sunrise, flying in the
center of the remaining F-l5 formation.

FADE TO BLACK




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