HIGHLANDER by Gregory Widen 1 EXT. STREET - NIGHT 1 Garish purple light spills out of side-street porno houses, illuminating a silhouette, and little else, of a MAN leaning against an alley wall. He is waiting. Another silhouetted FIGURE appears and approaches the first. They size each other up as best they can. FIRST MAN MacLeod. The second nods. The first without hesitation raises a sword, the intended thrust interrupted by his own death as the second with a flash of metal severs the agressor's head. 2 INT. HUTCH - MORNING 2 A 15th century Scottish home. A haggard WOMAN, her small CHILD clinging to a tattered apron, stands hunched over a glowing hearth. Her veined hands drag a wooden spoon around and around through a soot-covered pot of grey soup. From an adjoining room CONOR MACLEOD, a young man dressed up in his best traditional Celtic tartan, enters. MOTHER My, but are you the picture. CONOR (surveying himself) It's a bit tight. His FATHER enters with a pail of milk. FATHER Ah, Conor, how you look a man. MOTHER Have you time for some- thing to eat? CONOR No, Mother. They'll be here shortly. Conor's father looks him over with pride. FATHER Your grandfather wore that in his service to the King, and I to fight for the Duke. MOTHER Must he go? FATHER Aye. It is his duty. All of ours. MOTHER But Ian, he's still but a boy. FATHER He's a MacLeod. CONOR I'll be fine Mother. 3 EXT. HUTCH - MORNING 3 Several HORSEMEN gallop up through the early morning fog to the cottage door. Conor's father steps out to meet them. 4 EXT. HILLTOP - MORNING 4 A massive KNIGHT sits astride his horse, moorish dew cling- ing to his helmet and breastplate. A CLANSMAN hikes up the heather-carpeted slope to him. CLANSMAN They march. KNIGHT Is the boy among them? CLANSMAN Aye. 5 EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT 5 The second kneels to examine the headless body of the first. With a CLACK a window, high on the alley wall, closes. 6 EXT. HIGHLAND PLAIN - MORNING 6 The DUKE is leading a brigade of CLANSMEN out onto the plain. Mounted VASSALS ride back and forth inspecting the line. The low fog makes it impossible to see beyond a few yards. There is an erie, smothering silence. VASSAL #1 Is a bad day for this. VASSAL #2 The Duke has been compro- mised. He will have his due. VASSAL #1 By day's end he will have our heads. VASSAL #2 We ride against the Suther- lands. That is all that matters. VASSAL #1 This makes no sense to me. CONOR And a friend are marching through the moist heather. FRIEND The fog is bad. We cannot even see the sides of our own ranks. Conor's nervousness is showing. FRIEND Is this your first? CONOR Aye. SHOUTING is heard on the plain. FRIEND It's begun. 7 EXT. HILLTOP - MORNING 7 The Knight, above the fog, hears the battle commence below. He spurs his horse and starts down into the mist. 8 EXT. PLAIN - MORNING 8 The two opposing clans are now one confused mass of tartan and clashing swords. The air is charged with SHOUTS of ex- citement, agony, and the SHRILL of bag pipes. The fog has made each man's battle his own, each isolated with his opponent. THE KNIGHT Rides calmly through the fracas. He strikes and kills those that assault him, but appears disinterested in battle. He is looking. CONOR Is standing above the twitching body of his friend. Alone and confused, Conor has become seperated from the clan. He stumbles through the fog, seeking help. Suddenly he is alone with the Knight. The face of iron locks its gaze onto the boy. His fear turned to panic, Conor turns and flees. The Knight, his resolve steeled in a raised sword, kicks his horse into persuit. Conor is easily overtaken and on his first pass the Knight brings his blade down hard into Conor's shoulder, slicing open most of the boy's back and knocking him face-first into the heather. As Conor watches his own blood spew forth, he rolls over in time to see the Knight dismount and start for him. THE KNIGHT Leans down next to Conor, his metal face nearly against the boy's. His voice slithers out of the iron in almost a whisper. KNIGHT There can be but one. A CLANSMAN Charges out of the fog and attacks the Knight, who cuts him nearly in half. ANOTHER wanders in and meets the same fate. The battle is shifting to where they are. Not finished yet with Conor, the Knight is finding himself forced into retreat from an ever increasing number of assail- ants. A VASSAL Sees his men being hacked apart trying to stop the now-mounted Knight. VASSAL #1 Leave him! The clansmen obey. With the slap of an armored gauntlet against his steed, the Knight disappears into the fog. The Vassal surveys the carnage before him. His eyes fall a moment on the moaning, gurgling Conor. The Vassal turns and leaves the boy for dead. 9 EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT 9 A patrol car pauses at the mouth of the alley. The figure considers his situation, then quickly shoves his sword into a near-by drain. He straightens up and waits. AN OFFICER Steps out of his unit and cautiously walks forward. His PARTNER switches on the patrol car's side lamps, bathing the alley in a harsh glare. MAN IN ALLEY For the first time we can see his face. RICHARD TAUPIN, clad in a well-cut business suit, looks exactly like Conor. The police officer, upon seeing the body, grabs instinctively for his pistol. He yells to his partner now coming into the alley. OFFICER #1 Kevin! Get is a backup. TAUPIN I was merely walking by when- OFFICER #1 Don't move. The officer has his pistol out and leveled. His partner runs up, shotgun in hand. OFFICER #2 They're on their way. His voice cuts short as the blood flows against his shoe. OFFICER #2 Christ. 10 INT. HUTCH - NIGHT 10 Conor lies moaning on a cot. Makeshift bandages wrap his body, stained and pasted by thick, dried blood. The family surrounds their dying son. A PRIEST is delivering the last rites. PRIEST ...Libera Domine Animan servi tui sicut libertasi David de manu regis Saul... His sobbing mother holds a compress to Conor's forehead. PRIEST ...In mamus tuas domine commendo spiritum meum... 11 EXT. HUTCH - NIGHT 11 A Vassal rides up to the hutch, dismounts, and approaches a CLANSMAN standing in the open doorway. VASSAL #1 Has the boy died? CLANSMAN He is having the last rites now. It should be over by morning. VASSAL #1 Never seen anybody cut as bad live so long. He should have died on the field. CLANSMAN Tonight or tomorrow, it's all the same. The Vassal peers inside at the priest administering the sacraments. PRIEST ...Auditorium nostrum in nomine domini... VASSAL #1 This has been a dark day. PRIEST ...Requiescant in pace... 12 EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT 12 There is a bustle of activity. Setting up barricades, uni- formed OFFICERS are trying to keep NEW CREWS and curious ONLOOKERS at a distance. DETECTIVE LT. MORAN Lean, fortyish, and comfortable with the gore in front of him, is inspecting the corpse with a MEDICAL EXAMINER. EXAMINER (studying body) Real clean. No sawing action at all. Whatever it was did it in one swipe. (looks up at Moran) Like the other one. Moran gestures to a sword, wrapped in plastic, lying nearby. MORAN What about that? EXAMINER Hasn't any blood on it. MORAN (looking around) About the only thing that doesn't. EXAMINER I'll give it a closer look when I get back. BRENNA CARTWRIGHT Pretty but not beautiful, thirtyish, she exudes a sort of insolent intelligence. An OFFICER sees her duck under a police barricade. OFFICER #3 Come on Brenna, you know better than that. BRENNA I'm invited. She walks to where the medical examiner is organizing his equipment. BRENNA (greeting) Mr. Levine... The examiner turns and smiles. EXAMINER Hope this isn't past your bedtime. Brenna looks to the now-sheeted corpse, blood flowing from where the head should be. BRENNA Doesn't have a head, does he? EXAMINER This one came unassembled. Lt. Moran is standing near. MORAN (no warmth) Just show her what she came for, Tom. EXAMINER (stands, taps Brenna's arm) Come on, this is more your line of work. Brenna and the examiner walk the few yards from the corpse to the sword. EXAMINER How's your uncle? I hardly ever see him anymore. BRENNA Fine. The examiner stops and gestures to the weapon clothed in forensic plastic. EXAMINER There you go. Brenna's expression changes to interest as she kneels down beside it. EXAMINER Didn't look like it came from "Toys-Are-Us", that's why I called you. BRENNA (looks up in Moran's direction) Didn't think it was my buddy over there. EXAMINER Figured you knew more about swords than I did. BRENNA Claymore. EXAMINER Huh? BRENNA Scottish claymore. Take a French epee, add twenty pounds of ballast so it means business, and you've got a claymore. EXAMINER You're the expert. BRENNA (runs hand along hilt, slightly confused) It's in good condition. RICHARD TAUPIN Is being put in the rear of a patrol car. Brenna studies his face in the half-gloom. There's something different about him. A steadiness. 13 INT. POLICE INTERROGATION ROOM 13 Richard Taupin is seated at a graffitti scrawled table in a room otherwise bare of furnishings. He seems unphased by his surroundings. The door opens and Moran enters with bag and notebook. He picks up Taupin's wallet on the table top and checks the driver's license. MORAN This your present address? TAUPIN Yes. MORAN Mr.- (looks at license) Taupin, what were you doing in that alley? TAUPIN I was walking by when I heard a shout. Your men came right after. MORAN Did you know the victim? TAUPIN No. MORAN His name was Iman Fasil if that jogs your memory. TAUPIN It doesn't. MORAN He was carrying a Syrian passport and had been in the country less than a week. Taupin's face is stoic and controlled. MORAN Two days ago a Bulgarian national was murdered the same way. He'd also been in the country less than a week. (beat) What is your citizenship? TAUPIN American. Moran paces to a corner of the room. MORAN Do you make a habit of hanging out in that neigh- borhood at night? TAUPIN What are you getting at? MORAN Let's just say that in my years with this department I've seen more than one well dressed business man look for a hand job on 14th Street. Moran places both hands on the table and leans across it. MORAN What were _you_ looking for? TAUPIN That's none of your business. MORAN You're wrong. Moran reaches into a bag on the table and removes a large broad sword; old, but in mint condition. MORAN Do you know what this is? TAUPIN I presume it's a sword. MORAN A claymore to be exact. You wouldn't know anything about it would you? TAUPIN Your murder weapon? MORAN It was covered with Mr. Fasil's fingerprints, but none of his blood. TAUPIN A mystery. MORAN For the moment. Moran turns the sword over in his hand then sets it down. He rises and opens the door. MORAN All right Mr. Taupin, we'll be in touch. Taupin passes through the doorway without comment. 14 EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT 14 Taupin out into the crisp night air. His eyes search out the darkness. DISSOLVE TO: 15 EXT. CONOR'S FAMILY HUTCH - DAY 15 A medieval sun beats down on an OLD TRAVELER making his way up the MacLeod home. Conor's mother, scrubbing clothes in a bucket, smiles in recognition. MOTHER Ah Steven, it is good to see you. TRAVELLER I only just heard of Conor. I came up from Catroch as soon as I could. MOTHER You're a kind man to be sure. TRAVELLER I thought it only proper to pay me last respects to the family. MOTHER Steven, Conor didn't die. TRAVELLER But I had heard his wounds were mortal. MOTHER They were Steven, they were. It's been a miracle it has. He lasted right through and healed. No one in the village has ever seen anything like it. Ever. 16 EXT. MEADOW - DAY 16 Perched on a heather-carpeted rise above the village a young woman, MARA, sits contemplating the intricaces of a daffodil. Balancing on a shepard's staff, Conor limps over and puts his lips to her ear. CONOR You're pretty today. Mara is silent. Distant. CONOR I'm your future husband, remember? MARA I have no future husband. CONOR I don't understand. Not a week ago your father gave us his blessing. This is difficult for her. Tears well in her eyes. MARA My future husband died in battle against the Sutherlands. CONOR What are you saying? I'm standing here as real as you. MARA You cannot be real, Conor. You had the last rites. No man has been cut half as bad and lived. CONOR But I did live. MARA Live? In less than a week you're prancing about the country like a squirrel. CONOR So why the crazy talk? It's a miracle it is. Saint Andrew has smiled on me. On us. MARA Some think not. CONOR Who? MARA There's rumor in the village. Some call it magic. CONOR That's mad. Surely you don't take their word? MARA I don't know, Conor. It's not natural. Maybe something has touched you. CONOR You're sounding like that mad woman, Widow Baggins. MARA Me father has taken back my hand. He puts a hand to her cheek. CONOR Ah, Lassie... She steps back. MARA Please not be touching me, Conor. CONOR I'll not take that kind of talk from you. From those others below, maybe. But not from you. MARA Leave me alone, Conor. Please. CONOR You're not talking sense, Mara! Anger tumbles into exasperation. CONOR I'm sorry. He steps for her. She moves away. Conor's face hardens with resentment. CONOR If you send me away now, Mara, I'll not come looking for you. MARA (crying) Do what you must. Resigned, Conor turns and limps away. DISSOLVE TO: 17 INT. ANTIQUE SHOP - DAY 17 Classy antiques. Unusual. Clocks, tables, chests. Small and personal. Richard Taupin enters and sheds his overcoat. RECEPTIONIST Mrs. Thompson agreed to settle for fifteen, Melvin's wants to make a pick-up at three o'clock, the coffee machine's broken, and there's a Miss Cartwright from the Smithsonian in your office. Taupin is hardly in the mood. 18 INT. TAUPIN'S OFFICE 18 Brenna Cartwright stands in Taupin's cluttered surroundings admiring a bagpipe set neatly on a shelf. BRENNA Do you play? TAUPIN Yes. BRENNA Very traditional. Taupin sits down and begins sorting through a stack of papers on his desk. TAUPIN (impatient) Miss Cartwright, what is it I can do for you? BRENNA I'd like to ask you about the claymore. TAUPIN It's not mine. BRENNA It's quite rare you know, some- thing so common in its time so well looked after all these years. TAUPIN Miss Cartwright, unless you have come here to sell the sword, there's very little I can help you with. Now if you will excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do. Brenna has taken a carving from the shelf. BRENNA Byzantine? TAUPIN Basil the II. BRENNA Charming guy, Basil. Once after beating an army of Serbians he blinded all but- TAUPIN -All but one out of a hundred, I know. All left to be led like donkeys back home. Now if you will please- Brenna suddenly tosses the carving at him. Taupin snatches it out of the air with lightning precision. BRENNA Good reflexes. TAUPIN Good day, Miss Cartwright. 19 INT. SMITHSONIAN MUSEUM DEPARTMENT OFFICE 19 A lonely, ancient room full of equal parts dust and oaken study tables. The department SUPERVISOR sits at his desk surrounded by a handful of his staff RESEARCHERS - Brenna included. A faded, stern portrait of some forgotten curator presides over propped up feet, cold coffee, and half eaten sack lunches. BRENNA I don't believe him. SUPERVISOR Why? BRENNA He's too cool. Too sharp. I think he's got something to do with it. RESEARCHER #1 Oh, has your penetrating research on 9th Century Lithuanian dildos suddenly made you an expert on the criminal mentality? BRENNA Screw off, Larry. The men, LAUGH. They delight in baiting her. Researcher #2 opens a Budweiser and pours the beer into a medieval mug he's borrowed from the collection. RESEARCHER #2 The cops bought it. They let him go. BRENNA What could they hold him for? I think they're just waiting for something concrete before they haul him in for real. We should look into it. He had to have gotten that sword from somewhere. SUPERVISOR Hang on a sec, you did your little favor for the boys downtown, I'm sure your uncle and the rest are perfectly capable of taking it from here. BRENNA I've seen nobleman swords that weren't as well preserved. It's just a hunk of peasant iron. Why would he be carrying it around in an alley? RESEARCHER #1 Here we go. Everytime there's a murder in town we have to put up with junior D.A. RESEARCHER #2 Must be genetic. BRENNA Someone should check him out. Maybe a collection somewhere got knocked over. He has one, he might have two. SUPERVISOR You see that desk? _Your_ desk? You see the crap piled up on it? BRENNA Give it a rest Ned, huh? RESEARCHER #2 Might be interesting to see what his family connections are. That's a hell of a piece to be just chuck- ing around in an alley. SUPERVISOR (sighs) I swear to God Brenna, between you and Thompson's novels I'm going to get a bloody ulcer. Researcher #2 lifts the mug of beer to his mouth. CUT TO: 20 INT. TAVERN 20 An empty mug is set on the counter of a medieval drinking establishment. CLANSMEN, their faces and clothes smudged with a day's work in the fields, relax and enjoy the company of their fellow VILLAGERS. No longer requiring the use of a cane, Conor enters. CONOR (to owner) Evening, Douglas. DOUGLAS Conor. The tavern goes silent. Wary. The attention is on Conor. CONOR Ale suits me. The owner unenthusiastically fills Conor a mug. Conor takes it and walks to where four other VILLAGERS sit. TAVERN MAN #1 We rather you not be sitting with us, Conor. Conor looks to the next table. TAVERN MAN #2 We be drinking alone as well. The entire tavern spells the same sentiments. CONOR What's wrong with you all? Silence. Angered, Conor approaches the second man. As he looms above his chair the man in genuine fear pulls out a cross and thrusts it forward. TAVERN MAN #2 Requiem acer'nam donaei- CONOR What are you doing man? TAVERN MAN #2 -Et lux perpetua- CONOR You'll not be bringing the church into this. TAVERN MAN #2 -Luceat ei- The weird display frightens Conor. CONOR Be quiet. TAVERN MAN #2 -Auditorium nostrum- CONOR Stop. TAVERN MAN #2 -In nomine sanctus esperitu- CONOR Stop! Conor HURLES his mug against the wall. His nerves shattered, he rushes out. 21 INT. MACLEOD HUTCH 21 Conor packs a satchel with his few clothes and belongings. He walks to the doorway where his mother and father wait. His mother, tears on her cheek, hugs him tightly. MOTHER Please take care of yourself. CONOR Aye. Conor turns to his father. FATHER I wish there was some other way. They clasp hands. FATHER Goodbye, Conor. CONOR Goodbye. Without looking back he passes through the doorway and down the empty path, his figure quickly fading in the moorish fog. DISSOLVE TO: 22 INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT 22 The NOISY business-as-usual confusion at the Washington P.D. processing center. Amongst the dinge of CLANGING phones and CLACKING typewriters, a uniformed OFFICER enters something into a computer terminal. Brenna sits perched on a desk nearby. DESK OFFICER This is against the rules. BRENNA So's playing choo-choo with two high school cheerleaders in the middle of- DESK OFFICER -Okay okay. BRENNA You owe me. Besides, I'm cute. The computer returns a reply onto a printer. DESK OFFICER (tears off sheet) Taupin, Richard Marshall. Born March 16, 1945 in Church Hill, Maryland. Received first driver permit 1967 in Philadelphia. BRENNA Church Hill, that's pretty close, isn't it? DESK OFFICER Anything in Maryland is close. 23 EXT. GEORGETOWN STREET - DAY 23 Taupin steps out of a Metro station and walks the few blocks to his brick townhouse. Climbing the front stairs, he fishes his keys out of a coat pocket. About to insert the key he stops, sensing something. Backing down the steps, Taupin slips around to the rear of the building. 24 INT. TAUPIN HOME 24 Like a spider Taupin pries open a window and slips silently inside. The home is dark and still. Taupin creeps down the hallway and peers into the entryway. There a MAN, dressed in a tuxedo jacket and nearly imperceptible in the dim light, is crouched at the front door. He is holding a sword. Taupin removes a knife from his pocket and JUMPS the intruder. The two STRUGGLE fiercely. Taupin pins the intruder against the carpet and shoves his knife firmly against the man's throat. TAUPIN Where is he? Bulging eyes stare at him. TAUPIN Where! INTRUDER I don't know. TAUPIN What name is he using? Taupin presses the blade. A trickle of blood rolls down the throat. INTRUDER Smith. Carl Smith. TAUPIN How many came? INTRUDER The last four. TAUPIN And the Bulgarian? INTRUDER He got him. (hoarse chuckle) He always does. Eventually. TAUPIN He knows I'm here. How? INTRUDER None of this would be happening if you hadn't run... The knife is pressed deeper. TAUPIN _Answer_ me. INTRUDER (gasping) We learned he'd found the immigration notaries in Liverpool and traced them to New York. Then he figured out the birth records in Church Hill... 25 EXT. RURAL HIGHWAY - DAY 25 A city limit sign announcing the small community of Church Hill is overtaken by Brenna's sedan. 26 EXT. ROADSIDE CAFE TELEPHONE BOOTH - DAY 26 Brenna looks through a telephone book. BRENNA Taupin...Taupin... Nothing. She closes the book and drums her fingers on the cover. 27 EXT. COUNTY RECORDS OFFICE - DAY 27 An 1860s stone columned affair, far more impressive than the low-lying town that surrounds it. Brenna enters. 28 INT. COUNTY RECORDS OFFICE 28 Brenna sits sifting through a large cloth-bound book entitled _Certificates of Birth: 1941-1948_. BRENNA (reading) Tarmin...Tatum...Taupin, Richard Marshall. Born to William and Karen Taupin, no address. Attend- ing physician, Dr. Willis Kidell. 29 INT. DR. KIDELL'S HOME 29 Dr. Kidell stands at his bookcase leafing through a binder. KIDELL 1945, that strains the memory. (after a fashion) Here we are, Richard Taupin. He carries the binder to the table where Brenna sits. KIDELL Would you like more tea? BRENNA No thank you, I'm fine. Kidell sips his own and looks over the binder page. KIDELL He was unsual. BRENNA Why? KIDELL Well, this is a small town, and it was even smaller then. Most all the babies I delivered were from local families. Richard's parents were just passing through when his mother's time came. I did it right here at the house. BRENNA Then you didn't know Richard later on. KIDELL No. BRENNA I've been trying to find somebody who knew him and any connections his family might have had with museums or historical societies. KIDELL Don't know about any of that. Suppose nobody does. BRENNA I don't follow you. KIDELL Poor little tyke didn't have a chance. Hopelessly premature. He died a few days after he was born. BRENNA The boy _died_? KIDELL Mother too. Sad case it was. The young lady just couldn't make it through labor. Never even saw her son. Dr. Kidell removes from the binder a tattered newspaper clipping. KIDELL My brother worked for the town paper at the time. He took this picture of the funeral. Something in the clipping sparks Brenna's interest. BRENNA Have you spoken to anyone else about this? KIDELL There was this one fella. Asked a lot of questions. I was out of town but I heard he spent near a full day in the records office. BRENNA Would you remember his name? KIDELL (thinks) Carl Smith. 30 INT. POLICE STATION 30 A police line-up. Seven MEN, all dressed in Santa Claus outfits with bare legs, are paraded for a small, old LADY. OFFICER Just tell us when you see the one. Several rows back in the dark sits Brenna's UNCLE JOE, the district attorney, and another man, his ASSISTANT. UNCLE JOE Forget it. BRENNA I'm just curious. UNCLE JOE You're never "just curious". (to assistant) You've met my neice, Brenna. ASSISTANT Hi Brenna. OFFICER (to line-up) Number 5, lift your coat up more. UNCLE JOE Aren't you getting a little old for this? You flunked out of law school. BRENNA (rolls her eyes) Now there's a new topic. UNCLE JOE Don't they have enough for you to do at the castle? Brenna puts on her best little-girl angelic smile, a smile her uncle can never refuse. UNCLE JOE (sighs) Forgers do it all the time. They take the birth certificate of some- one who died young and use it to get legit I.D. Usually they carry it long enough to pass some bad checks then dump it. BRENNA Thanks. UNCLE JOE Call your mother. You never call her. OFFICER (to old lady) Well? OLD LADY I don't know. I'd have to see his thing. 31 INT. BRENNA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 31 A swath of moonlight shines in across a carafe-turned-vase, a New England college diploma, and a police uniform hanging from the bedpost where Brenna lies with another man, DENNIS. BRENNA I can't figure out why he's doing it. He's been Richard Taupin at least since 1967. And the guys rich. You should see the stuff he has in that shop. DENNIS Maybe he's hiding from something. BRENNA Some guy named Smith was asking about him in Church Hill. I passed his name around with your buddies downtown but they drew a blank. So he isn't a cop. District anyway. Dennis gets out of bed and begins putting on his uniform. DENNIS Probably just some exec ducking an ex-wife. BRENNA Dr. Kidell had a picture in his file of the funeral. The father looked just like Richard. Even had a mark on his cheek. DENNIS How old is Richard? BRENNA P.D. says 41, but he barely looks 30. DENNIS Find the father. That should clear things up. He buttons his shirt. Something occurs to him. DENNIS Taupin, isn't that the guy Moran picked up the other night? BRENNA Yeah. DENNIS He'd want to know about all this. BRENNA Mr. Congeniality? Let him find his own clues. There's a journal article in this somewhere. DENNIS (shakes head) Uncle Joey's little girl. Can't get the taste out of her mouth. Dennis puts on his police cap. DENNIS Well, the cream of society awaits. (cocks hat to one side) If you're ever in the neighborhood... BRENNA Sure. 32 EXT. RIVER EMBANKMENT - NIGHT 32 POLICE OFFICERS, their flashlights cutting the darkness, search the mud shores of a Potomac tidal basin. The glowing Jefferson Memorial can be seen in the distance. DETECTIVE MORAN Is supervising. An OFFICER climbs up the embankment to him. OFFICER They found it. The officer leads him down to the river where a headless BODY wearing a tuxedo jacket is being put into a plastic bag. OFFICER It was about fifty yards down- stream from the head. Moran looks down at the body bag, its dark plastic reflecting the rythmic rotation of squad car beacons. OFFICER Both were cut real clean. Like the other ones... 33 EXT. EQUESTRIAN RIDING GROUNDS - DAY 33 A steeple-chase course lies shrouded in an Arlington fog. Across the damp grass a lone horse, heaving clouds of warm breath, leaps gracefully over a hurdle. Driving the steed hard through the course, Taupin pulls firm on the reins, bringing horse and rider to a shuddering stop where Detective Moran waits. MORAN There's been another murder. Taupin lifts his eyes to the suburban treeline. TAUPIN My condolences. MORAN Where were you Tuesday night? TAUPIN Home. MORAN A neighbor saw your car leave. TAUPIN He's mistaken. Taupin climbs down from his horse. Moran moves close. MORAN Look, I don't know what the hell you're up to, but I think I've got a pretty good idea. TAUPIN Do you? MORAN All I need is time. TAUPIN I've got all the time in the world. (looks at watch) Except right now. If you will excuse me, Lieutenant. In no hurry, Taupin leads his horse away. 34 INT. MUSEUM RESEARCH DEPARTMENT 34 Brenna sits surrounded by books of old English law, colorful family banner plates, and a medieval caltrap sitting on her desk corner. Boring quickly, she shuts the book and sighs. From another folder she pulls out a computer sheet. INSERT COMPUTER SHEET The police sheet has Taupin's name and motor vehicle record. Below are listed four WILLIAM TAUPINS, their hometowns and driving records. Richard Taupin's first driver permit was in 1967. Brenna looks down the list to a WILLIAM TAUPIN of Felton, Delaware, who stopped filling for driver permits in 1967, the year Richard started. 35 EXT. GAS STATION - DAY 35 Dropping a couple of quarters into a vending machine, Brenna removes and opens up a map of the State of Delaware. 36 EXT. GRAVEYARD - DAY 36 Brenna steps out of her car at a small town cemetary. Holding a slip of paper, she weaves her way through the shade covered tombs of revolutionary heroes and their descendants. On a small rise fresh dirt lies in careless piles around an open grave. Richard Taupin stands at the mouth of the pit. A coffin has been brutally pulled from the dirt and lies open and propped diagonally beside a marker that reads: "WILLIAM MICHAEL TAUPIN". The casket is empty. BRENNA Someone beat you. TAUPIN Have you taken to touring small town cemetaries, Miss Cartwright? BRENNA Grave robbers? TAUPIN Probably. BRENNA Who? TAUPIN People like that rarely leave business cards. BRENNA Does Carl Smith? A flash of interest, quickly suppressed. TAUPIN I don't know what you're talking about. BRENNA I think you do. Better yet, I don't think anything was stolen because nothing was there in the first place. And I think Mr. Smith, whoever he is, now knows that. TAUPIN You have an active imagination. BRENNA I've been to Church Hill. TAUPIN Miss Cartwright, you are involving yourself in matters that do not concern you. I strongly suggest you return to Washington and stay out of small town cemetaries. He starts for the gate. BRENNA I could find him. Taupin stops. BRENNA I have friends. TAUPIN I doubt that. (beat) Good day, Miss Cartwright. He walks on. After only a few paces Taupin suddenly shudders to an abrupt stop. BRENNA What's wrong? He holds up an open palm to silence her. TAUPIN Your help may be unneccessary. The air is still. Taupin's face is expressionless. He listens intently. Sensing. An unseen voice rides seemingly on the wind. VOICE (o.s.) Good afternoon, "Mr. Taupin". Taupin whirls around to see a large man standing with broad sword in hand. We have never seen the knight out of his armor before, but this man certainly seems to fit the bill. Wearing Levis and leather jacket in contrast to Taupin's expensive business suit, he speaks with icy evenness from a face of stone. Taupin, naked without his own sword, is trapped against a marble wall. KNIGHT Long time. TAUPIN Not so long. The Knight is closing in on him, sword gripped in both hands. TAUPIN You've been here from the start. KNIGHT My quarry grows clever with age. And the others, incompetent. The Knight throws Brenna a glance. KNIGHT Friend of yours? TAUPIN Of sorts. KNIGHT I do hope she enjoys a good show. The Knight leans his whole body into a two-fisted swing, clanging out a chunk of marble as Taupin ducks. A second swipe also imbeds itself in stone. KNIGHT So now it ends. A thrust cuts only air. KNIGHT Generation upon generation. Tens of thousands of miles. Taupin leaps behind a tree. The Knight cuts it nearly in half. KNIGHT You're the last, MacLeod. Romirez, Lacroux, Neuvich, those fools that followed me, their heads all line my shelf. All but yours. Taupin drops to the ground in a shoulder roll to avoid a swipe. KNIGHT Can you feel it, MacLeod? Can you _feel_ it! Taupin grabs a tree branch and raps the Knight on the knee, knocking him over. The Knight quickly rights himself and cuts the branch from Taupin. KNIGHT There can be but one. He raises his blade. An elderly WATCHMAN, shotgun cradled in his arms, stands in the clearing. WATCHMAN Hey! What's going on here? The Knight pauses a split second then with decision launches his sword spear-style firmly into the watchman's chest. Taupin pushes past him to Brenna. TAUPIN Run! Brenna is frozen in shock. Taupin shoves her roughly toward the gate. TAUPIN Run! KNIGHT MACLEOD! The Knight retrieves his sword from the watchman's body and lumbers after them. Taupin and Brenna bolt from the cemetary and into the surround- ing residential area. 37 EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - DAY 37 Taupin leads an exhausted Brenna in a gallop down the side- walk. They have apparently lost the Knight. Taupin pauses at a corner. He sees a church across the street. 38 INT. CHURCH 38 Brenna enters and collapses into a pew, her labored breathing echoing off the high ceiling. Taupin walks the length of an aisle to see that they are alone. Satisfied, he leans against a banister and considers his sit- uation. Trying to recover her wind, Brenna has her eyes closed and head against the back of the pew. BRENNA Jesus Christ. TAUPIN You'll be safe here. He won't kill in a church. BRENNA Why not? TAUPIN (distracted) Tradition. BRENNA What the hell is going on? Taupin stares out the window, stained glass shining orange on his face. He looks at Brenna briefly, then passes through the Church's doorway without a word. DISSOLVE TO: 39 INT. MEDIEVAL BLACKSMITH SHOP 39 A glowing horseshoe HISSES wildly as it slips into a wooden cooling bucket. Pulling it out with iron tongs, Conor lays it on a counter and pounds it even with a mallet. Sweaty and streaked with dirt, he tosses the mallet aside and walks out into the late afternoon sunshine. 40 EXT. SHOP FRONTAGE - DAY 40 Conor leans over a water barrel and dunks his head and arms, cleaning off a day's worth of sweat and grime. JUAN ROMIREZ Stirring up dust with his travelling boots, this Spanish acc- ented man stops at Conor's shop. He wears a large broad sword strapped to his waist. CONOR Afternoon. ROMIREZ Your name is Conor? CONOR Aye. ROMIREZ (bows slightly) Juan Cid Romirez. Chief surveyor and alchemist. CONOR (notices accent) You're not from these parts. ROMIREZ I am from Spain. And I would like a moment of your time. 41 INT. CONOR'S HOME 41 Romirez is seated at a table. His back to the Spaniard, Conor is preparing some food. CONOR I haven't much to offer, Mr. Romirez from Spain, but you're welcome to what's here. ROMIREZ Please go to no trouble. Romirez is looking at the faint, pale hint of a scar that runs from Conor's shoulder blade to his waist. ROMIREZ Your back, it would seem perhaps you were injured in battle? CONOR Five years past me clan fought another over some- thing I cannot even re- member. ROMIREZ Your marks would suggest great injury. CONOR I was nearly killed. ROMIREZ But you lived. Conor looks up from his work in pained memory. CONOR I did at that. ROMIREZ And but for a mark you are well as any man, no? CONOR Aye. ROMIREZ I should imagine that your recovery must have alarmed your fellow villagers, perhaps giving them reason to invent an explanation. And a solution. Something isn't right. Conor turns and faces him. CONOR I was driven out. ROMIREZ And now you live in a small village miles away from all you knew. CONOR How can you know this? ROMIREZ (tone lightens) First food, no? A good meal makes conversation so much easier. Stunned with the implications of what Romirez has said, like a robot Conor serves the meal. His eyes never leave Romirez, who digs hungrily into the food. ROMIREZ Hmm, que rico. What is it you call this? CONOR Pheasant. ROMIREZ You Scots have a way with game. It still has life in it. Spirit. Back home the food is so...domestic. CONOR Why are you here? ROMIREZ I was sent by his majesty of Spain to Inverness as a con- sultant on matters of metal. CONOR You're a long way from Inverness. ROMIREZ In my travels I heard the story of the MacLeod boy struck down and brought from the hand of death by powers not of this Earth. CONOR You know me home. Me name. ROMIREZ It was time for our paths to cross. Romirez pulls back the sleeve on his cloak. ROMIREZ You see this? He traces some discoloration on his arm. ROMIREZ When I was a boy a cart driven by a drunken fool crushed me. All thought I would die or be maimed for life. But I healed quickly. And like you I paid the price for being different. CONOR You are the same? ROMIREZ Do you ever feel a flow, as if some- thing were pushing against you? CONOR Yes. Always. ROMIREZ Does it change with me in the room? CONOR It is less. ROMIREZ You feel you know me. CONOR I don't know why. ROMIREZ We are brothers. 42 EXT. VILLAGE - NIGHT Romirez and Conor walk alone amongst torch-lit hutches. CONOR He told me there could be only one. ROMIREZ Some cling to sanity through time with the one continuity and trad0 ition their lives have known: The Game. (Conor confused) You and I Conor, we are different from all others around us. You know this, you can feel it. We are flesh and bone like any man, but unlike our neighbors we are rather difficult to injure, (looks away) permanently. CONOR I don't understand. ROMIREZ You are still so very young. CONOR I'm twenty-two. ROMIREZ (shakes head) Not even a single lifetime. Romirez chooses his words very carefully. ROMIREZ Conor, you and I, we cannot be killed. CONOR What? ROMIREZ We are immortal. Stunned, Conor backs away from Romirez. CONOR No, that can't be. Romirez grasps Conor's shoulder. ROMIREZ It is as you are. CONOR (pushes away) No! This is all too much for Conor. ROMIREZ Listen to me. Hear the words. CONOR This is madness! ROMIREZ It is the truth. CONOR No! Romirez suddenly draws his sword and thrusts it into Conor's heart. The boy's mouth drops open in shocked terror as his eyes roll up into his head. A shudder, then Conor slides off the blade and crashes to the ground. DISSOLVE TO: 43 EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY 43 Brenna stops her car in front of the Washington Police Depart- ment. Getting out of her car she climbs the stairs but stops. After a moment of indecision she changes her mind and returns to her car. 44 INT. BRENNA'S APARTMENT - DAY 44 Brenna lowers herself wearily into a chair, rubs her eyes, and stares absently out the window. Reaching across to an end table, she plays back her answering machine. Beep. MALE VOICE This is Dr. Wickland at GWU. Your test came back today. You can call me here at the med center if you have any questions. Click. Beep. SUPERVISOR'S VOICE Brenna, where the hell are you? The place is full of cops asking weird questions. What's going on? I've got work stacking up. Get in here right away. Brenna stands and goes to the kitchen, returning with a glass of wine. Click. Beep. KNIGHT'S VOICE Brenna. She freezes in her tracks. KNIGHT'S VOICE My quarrel is not with you. Meet me. Brenna's eyes are glued on the machine. KNIGHT'S VOICE We have much to talk of, you and I. Answers for the young historian. (beat) O'Reily's. Tonight. I've grown to like taverns. Click. Beep. SEVERAL LITTLE GIRLS (singing) Happy birthday to you, happy birth- day to you, happy birthday dear Brenna, happy birthday to you. Brenna is still upset from the last call. MOTHER'S VOICE Hi Brenna, it's mom. Me and your neices just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday. Crissy made a real cute card for you, be sure to call her. Will you be home for Easter? Call when you can. Love you. Click. Hiss. DISSOLVE TO: 45. INT. CONOR'S HOME - DAY 45 This HISS of Brenna's answering machine becomes the HISS of cooking. Bandaged about the chest, Conor asleep on his cot. Suddenly he sits up. Sweating. He looks about the room in confusion as Romirez enters with a plate of food. ROMIREZ Three days you've laid there. It's time you ate. CONOR (dazed) This can't be. ROMIREZ You are not dead, boy. Accept it. CONOR This is monstrous. I'll burn in hell for all eternity. ROMIREZ You'd have to die first. (extends forkful of food) Aqui. Conor starts CRYING. CONOR What is to become of me? Am I to wander the Earth forever like a ghost? ROMIREZ You will live. Survive. CONOR Then they were right. I am evil. This is God's punishment. ROMIREZ You have done nothing wrong Conor MacLeod. CONOR Oh my God. Oh my God I'm lost. DISSOLVE TO: 46 EXT. CONOR'S VILLAGE - DAY 46 Two days later. Nearly healed, Conor and Romirez stand near a quietly moving stream. CONOR Why does he want to kill me? ROMIREZ You recall how I spoke of the push you feel and how I make it less? CONOR Aye. ROMIREZ It is always less with my living. Far or near. But if I were to die the push would become stronger than ever before. There is power in this. And as long as you and I live, The Knight can never have it all. CONOR But we cannot be killed. ROMIREZ There is an imperfection. For all your healing, if your head ever leaves your neck, you are dead. You can survive anything but steel against your threat. Then it is over. The end. CONOR How can I stop such a man? ROMIREZ Hide. Run to the ends of the Earth till you learn. You must learn to defend yourself. In this I can help. CONOR Why? ROMIREZ We are brothers. And you are a defense- (beat) -of sorts. 47 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA FARMHOUSE - DAY 47 An old man, MR. NORTH, leads Taupin up the drive of a rural farmhouse somewhere in the hinterland of Pennsylvania. MR. NORTH When your father died I saw to it that the grounds were kept up. TAUPIN The money in the estate was enough to cover your costs? MR. NORTH Oh yes, more than enough. 48 INT. FARMHOUSE 48 Furniture clad in white sheets. Dust everywhere. MR. NORTH Most of the furniture was put into protective storage. I'll have some boys come up and clean the place out for you. Taupin drags a finger across a dusty window pane. MR. NORTH (fascinated) You're one of William's kids, huh? TAUPIN His only kid. MR. NORTH Sure take after him. Never seen a father and son look more alike. TAUPIN We were very close. MR. NORTH The resemblance is amazing. TAUPIN When may I expect the cleaners? MR. NORTH I'll send them right up. 49 INT. "O'REILY'S" - NIGHT 49 Coupled strangers gyrate under colored lights and recorded music. Brenna sits alone. Whatever nervousness she brought through the door with her has been turned into a comfortable cynicism by the three empty glasses in front of her. A MAN With something less than perfect coordination, sits down beside her. MAN That stuff'll put you away if you're not careful. BRENNA There was a Count. Count Dusan. He would invite the local peasants to his chateau, fill them full of wine, then slice their bellies so he could reuse it. (smiles) The symmetry of that somehow always appealed to me. MAN You're very macabre. BRENNA It's my birthday. MAN Happy birthday. BRENNA Thanks. Brenna drains her glass and sets it down with a sigh. BRENNA Buy a birthday girl a drink? 50 INT. PUB - NIGHT 50 A small neighborhood tavern. Regulars chat amicably with the BARTENDER-OWNER. TAUPIN Sits alone at a corner table. A WAITRESS hovers over him. TAUPIN Lager and lime. LATER Taupin's lager is drained. Lost in thought, he drags a finger around and around the lip of the mug. He hand stops. It twitches. Shakes. Taupin pulls his hand from the glass and watches it shake slightly out of control. A warning. He WHIRLS around suddenly to see LING KAHN, Asian, standing over him. KAHN MacLeod. Taupin is anxious, poised for attack. Kahn breaks into a broad smile. KAHN Spare a chair? TAUPIN Kahn? KAHN Are you going to offer me a chair or leave me standing here all night? TAUPIN Sit. Kahn takes his place across the table. TAUPIN (unsure) How are you? KAHN Head still secure to the neck. TAUPIN How did you find me? KAHN How many places this side of the Atlantic serve lager and lime? Taupin looks to his own glass. KAHN Old habits die hard. (to waitress) Waitress! A round of Nitzhic! (beat) Peasant drool, I know. But it's the closest thing they stock to my side of the fence. TAUPIN What are you doing here? KAHN It is the gathering, my friend. The settling of old scores. Taupin tenses. TAUPIN And have you something to settle with me? KAHN (smiles) Not tonight. Tonight I have a drink with an old friend. TAUPIN It's good to see you, Kahn. The waitress sets down two glasses. KAHN Come, toast with me the past. (raises glass) To old conquests, old loves, and to a time when we cared about either. Kahn drains his glass. KAHN Waitress! 51 EXT. THE WASHINGTON MALL - NIGHT 51 Kahn and Taupin sit drunkedly on the marble steps of a closed government building. KAHN I'll never forget the look on that Papal commander's face when his "heretic stronghold" turned out to be a rock full of whores climbing all over Neuvich. TAUPIN Neuvich, the clown of the crusades. KAHN But then rides up Pope Pius who calmly brushes the dust from his papal cross, climbs off his papal horse, draws his papal sword and asks just what the hell is going on. And what did Neuvich, dear dear drunken Neuvich do? TAUPIN Offered the Pope one of his whores. They LAUGH. A JOGGER stops on the gravel and listens to the strange conversation. TAUPIN Had a great swing with his blade. For a Pope. KAHN (sighs) Good times then. A man could stretch his legs without bring- ing half the world down around his ears. Not like now. The jogger shakes his head and runs on. TAUPIN (serious) He found us even there. KAHN He always did. 52 EXT. ZOO - NIGHT 52 A CLINKING of chain link as Taupin and Kahn climb a fence and tumble into the Washington Zoo. TAUPIN I haven't drunk this much since- KAHN -Since you last saw me. Kahn chucks an empty wine bottle. An unspecified animal GROWLS sleepily somewhere in the darkness. KAHN Come on. 53 EXT. DISPLAY AREA - NIGHT 53 Taupin and Kahn stumble through an open-air display of Asian animals. Their VOICES seem to echo everywhere. KAHN I love zoos. Ever since I was a kid. TAUPIN You were never a kid. Kahn leans on the wall of a water buffalo pen. KAHN (points at one) I knew his great-grandfather. TAUPIN You're insane. KAHN No, seriously. We used to shoot pool together in Rangoon. TAUPIN How do you do it, Kahn? How do you live so full of life for so long? KAHN Tasting and enjoying life is the only thing of value we have. All else is just marking time. (beat) You're marking time. TAUPIN I've had a few more concerns. Kahn jams his hands into his overcoat and starts down the footpath. KAHN The pressure only comes when you let the taste slip into your mouth. TAUPIN You're wrong. KAHN You don't run as hard, MacLeod. You just don't run as hard anymore. 54 INT. O'REILY'S - NIGHT 54 Late. The bar is nearly empty. No sign of the Knight. Brenna looks at her watch, sighs, and drops a bill onto the counter. 55 EXT. STREET - NIGHT 55 Brenna has left the bar and is now walking down a dimly lit street. She hears something and turns. -Nothing. A breeze rustles the trees above. After only a few more paces she hears something again. Brenna abruptly turns. -Right into the face of THE KNIGHT. Brenna SCREAMS. The Knight reaches into his leather carrying bag. A GROUP OF NOISY TEENAGERS Exit a facing townhouse. The Knight removes his hand from the bag as they spill onto the sidewalk LAUGHING and YELLING. Brenna moves close to the group as they walk to the corner. The Knight follows at a measured distance. At the corner the teenagers climb into a pickup and drive off. Brenna bolts into the intersection. Weaving through SCREECHING brakes, she disappears into a pair of lighted glass doors. 56 INT. BUILDING 56 40 well dressed PATRONS, numbered cards pinned to their lapels, sit in velvetly plush surroundings. At the front of the room stands a thin moustached art AUCTIONEER. Brenna BUSTLES in from outside. AUCTIONEER I apoligize for the lateness of the hour, but I'm sure you will all agree the quality of this year's collection is well worth the time. The Knight BURSTS in with his leather carrying bag. Brenna slides along the draped back wall to avoid him. AUCTIONEER (holding statuette) For this fine example of medieval religious art, let us open the bid at 4,000 dollars. The Knight closes in on Brenna casually, without hurry. AUCTIONEER 10,500 once, 10,500 twice... Brenna raises her arm to attract the attention of a SECURITY GUARD.. AUCTIONEER (points at Brenna) 11,000. A bid at 11,000. BRENNA No, I- The guard notices she has no lapel number and starts for her very officially. Being closed in on from both sides, Brenna suddenly runs across the room to a fire exit, setting off an ALARM as she flies open the door. The Knight leaps after her, knocking over an OLD WOMAN in the front row. 57 EXT. BUILDING - NIGHT 57 Brenna runs the sidewalk and disappears into a Metro station. 58 INT. METRO STATION 58 Brenna runs down the platform and jumps into a subway car just as the doors shut. THE KNIGHT is also now on the platform but can only watch Brenna through a window as the train pulls away. 59 EXT. TAUPIN'S TOWNHOUSE - DAY 59 Brenna KNOCKS at the front door. No answer. She KNOCKS harder. The unlatched door pushes open. 60 INT. TOWNHOUSE 60 Brenna stands in the doorway. Before her is a disaster. Furniture has been smashed like matchsticks. A desk drawer's contents lie strewn in piles on the floor. Brenna enters slowly. BRENNA Mr. Taupin? I have to talk to you. Nothing has been left unturned or unbroken. Brenna kneels and sifts through a pile of crumpled papers. She comes across an old black and white photograph. Badly streaked and faded, it shows Taupin standing beside a farm- house. Written in the corner is "Worstick, 1928". Brenna slips the photo into her pocket. Standing, she turns smack into Taupin. TAUPIN Finished? He looks past her to the destruction of his living room. It doesn't seem to surprise him. BRENNA He tried to kill me last night. TAUPIN Where? BRENNA Dupont Circle. Taupin sifts through the debris, selecting articles from it. BRENNA Who is he? TAUPIN At the moment? Carl Smith. BRENNA And you? He ignores the question. BRENNA What will you do now? TAUPIN You needn't worry Miss Cartwright. I've been at this a very long time. BRENNA He called you "MacLeod". TAUPIN Not your concern. BRENNA I left a man dead in Felton. But you don't really care, do you? TAUPIN That bothers you? BRENNA He was innocent. TAUPIN He's dead. Whatever I may or may not feel means exceedingly little to him now. BRENNA What about me? TAUPIN You? BRENNA I'm a witness to a murder. That seems to put me pretty high on your friend's chop list. TAUPIN Have you gone to the police? BRENNA No. TAUPIN Why not? I'm sure they'd love to hear your story. BRENNA I'd rather hear yours. TAUPIN (beat) You are being foolish. BRENNA I'm a historian, Mr. Taupin. Only once in a lifetime do you stare history in the face. TAUPIN Go home. He walks to the doorway. BRENNA Why does he want to kill you? Taupin stops, his back to her. TAUPIN He sees me as a threat. BRENNA Are you? Taupin walks out the door. DISSOLVE TO: 61 EXT. GRASSY KNOLL - DAY 61 On a clear rise above the village Romirez and Conor spar with swords covered in heavy cloth. Conor is having difficulty. ROMIREZ Concentrate! Conor thrusts. Romirez blocks. ROMIREZ Harder. Concentrate harder. CONOR Me arm hurts. ROMIREZ Again. Try again. Conor strikes. Romirez easily blocks. ROMIREZ Harder! You swing like an impotent cow! CONOR Go to hell. ROMIREZ Oh, the boy has a mouth, now if only he had an arm. Ticked off, Conor leans himself into a two-fisted swing. Romirez knocks it aside, but Conor recovers faster than he, knocking Romirez flat on his back. CONOR Impotent cow. ROMIREZ Muy Bien! Conor drops the sword and wipes the sweat from his face. Romirez pours wine from a leather bag into a goblet pulled from his belt. He offers it to Conor. ROMIREZ Here my boy, from vineyards as sweet and smooth as a young girl's thigh. Conor accepts the cup. Romirez pulls himself to his feet. ROMIREZ It will take less effort as you learn. CONOR It's like to kill me first. Romirez puts his arm around Conor and refills his cup. ROMIREZ You have a gift. One you must protect. CONOR And what is this great gift that cannot be seen or smelt? ROMIREZ The Fabric of life. The spark that allows the passing of existence from one generation to another. CONOR (shakes head) If that was meant to be an ex- planation Mr. Romirez from Spain, I'm afraid you've failed. Romirez put his arm around Conor and leads him away. ROMIREZ Come. Enough sword play for an afternoon. 62 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - DAY 62 A friendly horse race. Their reflections bouncing off a clear glen, Conor and Romirez dodge moss-laiden ruts and leap fallen tree trunks. Beaming, Conor pushes through a last turn and stops to wait for Romirez, several lengths behind. CONOR (as Romirez rides up) You're no match for Scot, Mr. Romirez. We're raised as riders. ROMIREZ Point conceeded, Mr. MacLeod. Both their eyes turn to the beauty in view. Romirez pulls a leaf from a tree and studies it closely. CONOR What is the fascinatioon? It is only a leaf. ROMIREZ All living things pay dues, Conor. They must be respected for that. He pulls the leaf's points from the stalk, one by one. ROMIREZ As they age they contribute to a sum that is the kindling from which all future life comes. To feel it, to know it, is to be in touch with the will of every living thing. CONOR I do not think I like the sound of that. ROMIREZ It does not feel nearly as frightening as it sounds. But the consequences of such feelings can be very frightening. For it gives you great strength. The strength of _knowledge_. The ability to stand between the giving of what has always been to what will always be. CONOR I feel hardly nothing. ROMIREZ You have not been fully trained. But you will learn. And you will be good, I can feel that. You have apt- itude. This is why our friend is so concerned. CONOR But why be so concerned about me? ROMIREZ This power is divided amongst you, me, and others like cuts in a pie. But the cuts are not equal. Some, like you and he, have more. Much more. CONOR And you? ROMIREZ I am a small player. But if by helping you I can keep that monster from being the last, then perhaps my life has meant something. CONOR I am not ready for this. ROMIREZ You must be. You have responsibilities. You must learn the rules. You can never attract attention to yourself, never show the side that will draw others to you. You will always know when you are in the presence of another. Beware. But more importantly Conor MacLeod, will be your battle against time. In the coming years you will see kingdoms rise then rot like wheat. People will become a transitory, pathetic lot. The only constant you will know will be the others and the tradition their greed and quest represent. But life without morality, without the ability to truly taste the sweetness of wine and love, is no life at all. That is how the others exist. Nothing more than walking corpses living only to slaughter each other in an insane quest to be the last. Keep your soul sewed to the earth. Do not become one of them. CONOR Of course. ROMIREZ You are young, inexperienced. You do not know what time can do. How it can sap all pity, all love. CONOR That is not me. ROMIREZ With the proper tools, Conor, a naive man can be much more dangerous than an evil one. VILLAGER Conor! A VILLAGER approaches from across the pasture. CONOR Yes, Darin. VILLAGER Hate to be bothering you like this, but me mare threw a shoe. Conor looks to Romirez. ROMIREZ Go ahead, Senor. (gestures to wine) I have my friend to keep me company. CONOR I'll be back when I can. Conor sets off across the pasture. 64 INT. CONOR'S HOME 64 Romirez enters and flops onto a cot. Settling down for a nap, he sets his sword beneath the bed and closes his eyes to the distant sound of CHILDREN playing. The room is still. Romirez begins to drowse. Suddenly his eyes leap open with full alertness. His hand moves under the cot. With an EXPLOSION the front door is lifted from its hinges and splintered into fragments. Passing through a cloud of sawdust enters the Knight. Without pause he topples a kitchen shelf onto a supine Romirez. KNIGHT Romirez. What a surprise. Romirez is struggling under the debris. The Knight thrusts hard onto an exposed leg. The limb is severed. ROMIREZ Madonna! The Knight begins casting aside the shelving. With lightning speed Romirez pulls the sword from beneath the bed and hammers it deep into the Knight's side. KNIGHT Bastard! He crashes back against the wall. Romirez tries to lift himself from the bed using his sword as a crutch. The Knight has regained a meager balance on his knees. Blood pours from the slice in his stomach, Romirez pushes himself across the bed, plants his sword into the floor and hobbles a few paces before collapsing. ROMIREZ Oh, Santa Maria! The Knight crawls across the bed and drops to his knees beside Romirez. KNIGHT Why run? ROMIREZ Demonio! The Knight's trembling hands raise his shaking sword high. KNIGHT To hell with you. 65 EXT. BARNYARD - DAY 65 Conor pounds at a horseshoe. The hammer slips from his grasp as he slumps forward as if pushed. 66 EXT. CONOR'S HOME - DAY 66 Badly wounded, the Knight staggers through the shattered doorway and tumbles into the street. A CHILD SCREAMS. Pulling himself up, the Knight hobbles away. 67 EXT. - DAY 67 Conor is running through the village. 67 INT. CONOR'S HOME 67 Conor rushes in and shudders to a stop. An entire wall is showered with blood. Conor walks slowly forward. Dazed. As he looks down something takes his attention. It is Romirez's severed head. Conor moans in anguish and drops to his knees on the blood- stained floor. His head sinks to his chest as he begins sobbing. DISSOLVE TO: 68 INT. MUSEUM RESEARCH LIBRARY 68 Somewhere in the bowels of the museum, the RESEARCH LIBRARIAN, a wiry young man, sits at his cluttered desk. Brenna looms above him. LIBRARIAN Come on Brenna, your ass is already in a sling, don't drag me into it. BRENNA All I need is for you to check the name. LIBRARIAN You talked to your supervisor lately? He's burning up the place about you just dropping out of sight. That on top of the cops bugging him. BRENNA I'll take care of that Corey, but I need this now. The librarian looks her over skeptically. BRENNA Corey, you _owe_ me. LIBRARIAN It's that important? BRENNA Yeah. The librarian reluctantly reaches for his keys. 69 INT. STORAGE AREA 69 Holding Brenna's photograph, the research librarian is comb- ing through stained binders. The room is old, disorganized, and gives the impression that every fact worth knowing must be in it somewhere. RESEARCHER Wilson know about this? BRENNA I'm doing it on my own. LIBRARIAN Good way to lose your job. BRENNA Some job. Card filing and cabinet dusting. Four years in this dump and I haven't written anything for Wilson that a wounded yak couldn't do. LIBRARIAN I liked the bit you did about Baltic chastity belts. Too bad no one else did. BRENNA It's bullshit. Everything. My job, the people I get involved with, I'm up to here with it. LIBRARIAN You always were hard to impress. The librarian pulls a binder and opens it. BRENNA Who is it? LIBRARIAN Not who. What. Worstick's a town in Pennsylvania. 70 INT. MUSEUM RESEARCH OFFICE 70 Brenna enters and sits at her desk. She is looking for something. BRENNA (confused) Chris, have you seen my notebook? Chris is seated at the desk next to her. He points at the supervisor's door. BRENNA Why, that son of a bitch. 71 INT. MUSEUM SUPERVISOR'S OFFICE 71 The high backed office chair is spun away from an angry, entering Brenna. BRENNA What's wrong Wilson, huh? Not enough excitement in your own desk? What the hell were you looking for in mine? The chair turns. Detective Moran, not her supervisor, leafs through her notebook. MORAN A murder. BRENNA You better have a warrant. That's my notebook, you've got no right to be sticking your fingers into it. MORAN I've got a morgue filling up with bodies. That's my right. BRENNA What do you want from me? MORAN Well, the man of the hour that we all would like to talk to about now has apparently skipped town. (looks at notebook) And all of a sudden the Smithsonian's ambulence chaser is an expert on missing persons. Brenna lifts the telephone receiver. BRENNA I'm calling an attorney. MORAN You and I should talk first. BRENNA We've got nothing to say. Moran presses the post on the phone. MORAN What are you going to tell them? That you're protecting a man who's killed four people? BRENNA Four? MORAN All fashionably without heads. BRENNA Spare me the details. MORAN But there's more. Wednesday someone played javelin with the cemetary curator in Felton, Delaware. Some locals spotted two cars with D.C. plates and surprise surprise, they turn out to be registered to our own Brenna Cartwright and the ever popular Richard Taupin. BRENNA What are you getting at, Moran? MORAN You've been a busy little beaver. Especially with that records mess up in Church Hill. (looks at notebook) Your notes are very complete. Naturally my feelings were crushed when you didn't rush right over and tell us what you knew. (looks up) In fact, we're considering book- ing the ambulence chaser as an accessory to murder. BRENNA It'll never stick. MORAN But we might just give it the 'ole college try. What with the court back ups, it could be days before you got an arraignment. But then, I'm sure the flunk-out neice of the D.A. knows all about that. BRENNA You're an asshole, Moran. MORAN I want Taupin. BRENNA What makes you so sure he's the one? MORAN Just for laughs we raided wonder boy's house. There was a gallon of one of the corpse's blood in his carpet. I think it was about then I withdrew his name for humanitarian of the year. BRENNA What's all of this got to do with me? MORAN What were you doing in Felton? BRENNA Research. If your pal was there I never saw him. MORAN I have witnesses that can put the two of you together. BRENNA (knows he's bluffing) Never take up poker, Detective. MORAN Don't be stupid, lady. Your neck can be sliced as fast as anyone else's. Brenna reaches across and lifts her notebook. BRENNA Why don't you wait until it comes out in paperback? Moran watches her leave. He lifts the telephone receiver. RESEARCH OFFICE Striding out into the corridor, Brenna passes Dennis, the cop from her bedroom, leaning against the doorway. DENNIS I warned you. BRENNA Go to hell. 72 INT. CHURCH (WASHINGTON D.C.) 72 A PRIEST celebrates mass in a present-day cathedral. In the rear of the church apart from the other PARISHIONERS sits the Knight. As the priest leads the parishioners through the procession of faith, the Knight alone repeats it quietly to himself in Latin, the ancient language of the church. DISSOLVE TO: 73 EXT. ABANDONED GRAVEYARD - DAY 73 Crooked tombstones strewn across the bleached ground of a place not beloning to reality. In full medieval tartan, Conor stands against a forceful wind. CRACKS Run the length plain, spewing forth steam and staggering SKELETONS. There are dozens of them, all carrying their skulls under one arm. The skeletons press forward and trap Conor against the trunk of a dead oak. The heads break into harsh, demonic LAUGHTER. Conor puts his hands over his ears in pain as the bodies push forward. SCREAMING, he disappears under a mass of gleaming bones. CUT TO: 74 INT. TAUPIN'S WORSTICK HOME 74 Taupin wakes from the dream with a SHOUT. He has fallen asleep in a desk chair. Taupin walks to a window and looks out to the green hills. To the distance. 75 EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY 75 Brenna's sedan shoots down a country highway. 76 INT. SEDAN - DAY 76 Checking her rear view mirror, Brenna notices two suspicious FIGURES in a car behind her. 77 EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY 77 Brenna pulls to the side. The car from behind passes without incident. 78 INT. SEDAN - DAY 78 Brenna is driving again. Listening now to the RADIO, she casts a glance in the mirror. The same car is behind her. 79 EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY 79 Passing over a rise in the highway, Brenna turns abruptly onto a service road and behind a group of trees. THE OTHER CAR Pauses a moment at the intersection, then drives on. 80 EXT. STOREFRONT - DAY 80 Brenna shows the PROPRIETOR the photograph. He explains something to her. Brenna steps outside the store onto the Main Street of the very small community of Worstick. AT A STREET CORNER Brenna passes a small monument settled in a flower bed. It has a plaque memorializing five locals murdered in 1931. 81 INT. SEDAN 81 A mile out of town Brenna stops at a farmhouse. She checks it against the photo she found at Taupin's townhouse. They match. 82 EXT. FARMHOUSE DOOR - DAY 82 Brenna KNOCKS. TAUPIN You shouldn't have come. Brenna whirls around and sees Taupin behind her. TAUPIN We're you followed? He looks to the road. BRENNA No. TAUPIN No one knows you're here? BRENNA No. I had to talk to you. TAUPIN You had to do _nothing_! BRENNA You're wrong. TAUPIN You're a fool. BRENNA Maybe. Pause. Taupin strides through the doorway. TAUPIN Come inside. 83 INT. FARMHOUSE 83 Brenna and Taupin enter. A heavy broad sword sits on the coffee table. BRENNA Is this what you killed them with? TAUPIN You've been listening to rumors. BRENNA Our cars were seen together in Felton. They're calling me an accessory to murder. TAUPIN You are. Now. Beat. They're stuck with each other. TAUPIN There's several bedrooms down the hall. Take your pick. 84 INT. BEDROOM 84 The room is a strange decor. 18th century paintings hang beside grotesque medieval carvings. Brenna's face softens with worry. What is she doing? 85 EXT. RURAL PAY PHONE - DAY 85 A plain-clothed POLICE OFFICER is in mid conversation. OFFICER No, that's the last place we saw her. Okay, will do. He hangs up. PARTNER Well? OFFICER (shrugs) We keep looking. PARTNER Wonderful. 86 INT. FARMHOUSE - DAY 86 Taupin sits at his desk. Before him is spread out blank birth certificates, driver licenses and title deeds. His eyes lift to the corridor where Brenna is. An idea has come to him. Brenna enters. BRENNA What's all that? TAUPIN Richard Taupin has become cumbersome. It would be best if he just disappeared. Brenna walks to the window. BRENNA You did kill those men. TAUPIN Not all of them. BRENNA When you finish, what then? TAUPIN I go my way and you can write all you want about the big bad Mr. Taupin. BRENNA You make it all sound so simple. TAUPIN The only real difficulty comes in changing over the ownership of property I've aquired. That requires certain records and most importantly a personal appearance at the county seat in Gettysburg. But that's where you come in. BRENNA You want me to front for you. TAUPIN The less exposure I recieve around government buildings the better. You, as Mrs. Taupin, will attract considerably less attention than I. Brenna is unsure. TAUPIN Not such a bad trade. The story of a lifetime for a few days work? 87 INT. TAUPIN'S WASHINGTON TOWNHOUSE 87 Detective Moran looks through the broken remains of the living room. An INSPECTOR enters. INSPECTOR They lost her outside of Thurmont. Moran sighs and tosses a piece of wood on the pile of debris. MORAN I want people in here to check over every piece of this stuff. INSPECTOR Figure she's with him? MORAN Yeah. INSPECTOR We ran down that Church Hill info. She's right. There is no Richard Taupin. MORAN Any other I.D.s come up? INSPECTOR Not yet. Called FBI yesterday. Thompson's going to try CIA this afternoon. (shrugs) Y'never know. Moran rises and dons his coat. MORAN Should have seen him the first night. Son of a bitch stood there with a quart of blood on his pant leg and didn't even blink. INSPECTOR You'd think he'd had practice. Moran walks to the door. MORAN I think he has. DISSOLVE TO: 88 EXT. FRENCE MILITARY CAMP - DAY 88 Conor, now MAJOR DUPONT of the French infantry, pours over battle plans. An AIDE, dressed as Conor-Dupont in 18th century European military garb, enters the command area. AIDE The men are assembled, Major. A GENERAL stands beside the major. GENERAL See that they are indeed ready, Dupont. DUPONT (CONOR) Yes General. 89 EXT. PARADE GROUND - DAY 89 A regiment of INFANTRYMEN, pale blue coat tails tossing in the light breeze, stand at attention. A STAFF SARGEANT presents the men to Dupont. STAFF SARGEANT Regiment ready for review, sir. Dupont walks past the sargeant to the line. DUPONT (to soldier) Stand straight, you are a soldier of the King. SOLDIER #1 Yes sir. Dupont continues down the line. Another soldier's infantry jacket is almost hilariously mis-buttoned, one collar sticking up four inches higher than the other. Dupont with both hands rips open the soldier's coat, spraying brass buttons onto the ground. He moves on. DUPONT (to soldier) Where is your bayonet? SOLIDER #3 Lost it sir. DUPONT Where? The soldier hedges. STAFF SARGEANT You heard the Major! Where! SOLDIER #3 Whorehouse sir. Dupont's face softens in exasperation, then toughens. DUPONT Your rifle. Hand it to me. The soldier obeys. Dupont inspects the firing mechanism. DUPONT The flint is cracked. No spark will reach your powder. You will die tomorrow. He throws the rifle roughly back into the soldier's hands. DUPONT Tomorrow you go to _battle_! And you look like children! (beat) The General has charged me with seeing that you are prepared, and prepared you will be! If necessary you stand here all night! Sargeant! The sargeant leaps to attention. SARGEANT Yes sir. DUPONT See to it. SARGEANT Yes sir. Dupont turns briskly, then stops abruptly as if alerted by some- thing. He whirls around and faces the young infantrymen. His expression is quizzical as he walks the line, checking each face carefully. One PRIVATE seizes his attention. The private is cautious. DUPONT Your name? MULET Mule