Air Force One (1997)
by 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