Based on the novel A Very Private Gentleman
1 EXT. DALSLAND, SWEDEN- TWILIGHT 1
A Saab outside the dacha.
A light within.
2 INT. DACHA- NIGHT 2
JACK (dark, fit, mid-forties) is staring at the embers of a
log fire. He sips from a thick cut crystal glass of whiskey.
The impressive US Army Special Forces crest tattooed on the
shoulder of his bare torso is at odds with JACK's quiet
manner and the distinguished silver that flecks his hair and
stubble. JACK is no longer young.
A creak behind him and his eyes flick over his left shoulder.
INGRID (34) is naked. With an intimate familiarity she kisses
JACK on the top of his head, sits close behind him and wraps
her arms around her lover, linking her slender hands across
his upper chest.
Her head resting on his shoulder, her face beside his, INGRID
and JACK watch the fire together in easy silence.
3 EXT. WOODS- MORNING 3
INGRID leads JACK through the trees. Her coat has a white fur
collar. They are fresh-faced and warm from bed.
They head towards a vast and frozen lake.
JACK senses something in the woods.
Beneath the Conifers: impenetrable darkness.
JACK looks around.
Thick snow blankets the world and muffles any sound. There is
not the slightest breeze.
What are you looking for?
Her Swedish accent is sing-song.
His anxiety is evident.
INGRID laughs out loud.
There are no wolves in the woods so
close to the city.
4 EXT. LAKESIDE- MORNING 4
They continue through the woods until they reach the
shoreline of the lake.
INGRID steps onto the ice.
Holds out her hand.
JACK takes INGRID's hand.
Solid as stone, the frozen lake takes his weight.
They walk out, INGRID slipping and laughing.
The landscape is magical.
JACK begins to relax, slipping and swearing.
Suddenly, he stops.
There are footprints in the thin snow going out across the
Beside the Snow-hare's prints are those of a man.
JACK studies the two sets of tracks.
Those of the Snow-hare are heading out into the lake. The
man's prints are heading in the opposite direction, towards
JACK spins around in the direction they've just come from.
Then, about ten metres inland from the edge of the lake, a
low branch dips and a thick rug of snow falls from the
JACK grabs INGRID, yanks her towards the cover of the
lakeside trees and pushes her down into the snow.
She grunts, winded. He lies besides her.
We hear the CRACK of a bullet- so quiet it might be a bough
snapping under the weight of winter.
JACK pulls a WALTHER PPK/S semi-automatic handgun from the
pocket of his Parka.
Then bobs up and down once.
There's another CRACK from the trees.
JACK pinpoints the spot from the drift of BLUE SMOKE, almost
invisible in the winter air.
There's someone in the shadows.
He rubs snow into his woollen hat, edges up until he can just
see over the snow and pumps THREE SHOTS into the dusk under
We hear a muttering groan and then a sliding sound, as if
JACK has just shot a tobogganist.
More snow slides off the trees.
INGRID gathers her breath but loses her wits:
You have a gun.
JACK keeps his eyes fixed on the trees.
You have a gun! How do you have a
gun? Why should you carry such a
JACK looks at her briefly but makes no reply.
She is busy thinking.
So is he.
He stands up slowly and walks inland towards the corpse that
is just visible now in the shadows beneath the trees.
INGRID follows, frightened.
The MAN is slouched forwards in a drift of snow, his body
cushioned in white softness.
JACK kicks the sole of his boot. He's dead.
Jack talk to me!
JACK grabs his collar and turns him over.
He doesn't recognise him.
JACK fumbles at his buttons and rummages in his clothing.
In his breast pocket he finds a MILITARY IDENTITY PASS.
Who is he?
He's not dressed like a hunter. Why
is he alone? Hunters always go in
pairs. For safety.
Swiftly, JACK removes the bolt from the man's rifle and
throws it far into the trees.
Go for help. Call the police.
INGRID sets off, stumbling up the track they have made
through the snow.
JACK shoots her just once, in the nape of her neck.
She twitches in the snow, her blood staining the white fur of
her coat collar.
From a distance, INGRID looks like a shot Snow-hair.
JACK approaches her.
And steps over her, trying not to look down.
Trying not to look back.
5 EXT. DACHA- MORNING 5
Outside the dacha is another MAN, standing by a black
The second hunter.
He is holding an automatic pistol but he's not on alert.
JACK fells him easily with a bullet in the ear.
He removes the clip from his WALTHER and reloads it.
6 INT. DACHA- MORNING 6
JACK packs a few belongings in a holdall.
7 EXT. DACHA- MORNING 7
JACK smashes the CB radio in the Mercedes and removes the
distributor cap from the engine, burying it deep in the snow.
Then he gets into the Saab.
And drives off.
8 TITLES 8
Over images of: JACK on a ferry to Gotland; changing clothes
and vessels for Ystad; travelling by road to Trelleborg;
catching the night crossing to Travemunde; driving to Hamburg
and from Hamburg catching a train to...
9 EXT. ROME- DAY 9
At a fast food stand not far from the central train station,
a middle-aged man is squirting ketchup on a hotdog.
It is Autumn, and without the usual mass of Summer tourists,
LARRY stands out as an American.
JACK does not.
LARRY is shocked to see JACK but pretends the hot dog is the
centre of attention.
Jack. What brings you to Rome?
I closed the Stockholm account.
LARRY might be older than JACK but he doesn't seem it. His
demeanour is sprightly.
But there were complications.
Then LARRY turns and walks, eating carefully. He is not a man
who likes to get his hands dirty.
JACK walks beside him.
Both men keep a trained eye on their surroundings.
Collateral damage. Two shooters.
Unidentified. [A beat] And a girl.
LARRY takes a bite of his hot dog and casts a sideways look
JACK is tired.
There's a bar across the street:
the L'Aquila. Freshen up. Sit
tight. Give me two hours.
10 INT. BAR- DAY 10
JACK washes his face in the cramped bathroom at the back of
In the background, on the stereo, The White Stripes cover One
More Cup of Coffee.
JACK stares at himself in the mirror. He looks exhausted.
11 INT. BAR- DAY 11
JACK is sitting at the back of the bar. He has a good view of
the whole establishment: including the entrance and the door
to the bathrooms.
He lights a cigarette.
LARRY comes in and sits opposite him.
You started smoking again?
The WAITER slides over and flicks a cloth at the table.
The WAITER disappears.
LARRY puts an ENVELOPE on the table.
Stockholm account. Final
JACK takes the envelope and puts it in an inside pocket.
LARRY is about to speak but stops.
The WAITER reappears and puts down two cups of coffee.
LARRY puts two cubes of sugar in his cup and starts stirring.
Then speaks low and fast:
You can't stay here, Jack. You
won't see `em coming, not in a big
city. But you can't go far, either.
If the gentlemen whose accounts you
closed belonged to Brink, Gallazzo,
Simenov- any of the first division-
you have four or five hours at most
before every airport, train
station, bus stop, toll booth and
ski lift from Stockholm to Skopje
is under surveillance.
Not a question. An acknowledgement that LARRY knows exactly
what he's talking about. And JACK is listening.
So. You find a hole- somewhere
nearby- and you crawl into it and
you stay put until I say it's safe
to come out.
JACK's expression is as immoveable as a cliff face.
Turn right outside the bar then
second left. Via Spinetti. You'll
find a silver Citroen C2 with
Chieti plates. Check the glove box
and follow the map. Castelvecchio.
It's a fucking fortress. Literally.
And as dead as a graveyard. Anyone
within a three to five mile radius
you'll see `em coming.
He pushes something across the table. A MOBILE PHONE in a
Get there. Stay there.
LARRY finishes his coffee and dabs at the corners of his
mouth with a napkin.
Do nothing `till you get my call.
12 INT. CAR- DAY 12
JACK gets into a compact Citroen C2: nothing flash.
He opens the glove compartment and finds a PLAIN MANILLA
Inside the envelope is:
-a PASSPORT bearing Jack's photo in the name of Edward Clarke
-a DRIVER'S LICENSE in the same name
-and a MAP.
13 EXT. AUTOSTRADA- DAY 13
A long tunnel: one of the longest in Europe.
JACK at the wheel.
It seems like night: red stripes, strip lights, shadows.
Vast fans suspended from the ceiling shift the traffic fumes.
A button of light, expanding...
...as we burst into daylight.
14 EXT. ITALIAN LANDSCAPE- DAY 14
We're in another world.
JACK'S CAR is winding its way up a twisting mountain road
...a ramshackle, lonely, desolate Italian HILLTOP TOWN.
The town sits beneath it's own castle. Medieval towers,
gables, streets and church bells: framed by the snow-capped
mountain peaks beyond.
This is not the Italy of E.M. Forster or of Bella Tuscany.
This is the Italy where the Crusaders built their fortresses.
The Italy where Sergio Leone conceived of his great Westerns.
A CHURCH BELL tolls...
15 EXT. CROSS ROADS- DAY 15
JACK stops the car.
At the crossroads is a SIGNPOST pointing to the town.
The sign reads:
16 INT. CAR- CONTINUOUS 16
JACK looks at the sign.
He looks up at the silent town, at the vast stone ramparts.
An OLD MAN comes out of a crooked medieval doorway, stares at
JACK and disappears into another building.
JACK looks at the dead sockets of the windows, random beneath
the rotting patchwork of rooves.
A DOG barks. The WIND hisses. The atmosphere is deathly.
JACK makes a decision.
And drives away.
17 EXT. ITALIAN LANDSCAPE- DAY 17
We see JACK'S CAR heading away from CASTELVECCHIO.
The CAR crosses a spectacular VIADUCT that spans a deep
The driver's window opens.
A MOBILE PHONE in a cellophane bag is thrown out.
It drops hundreds of feet down the ravine.
18 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, MAIN SQUARE- DAY 18
CASTEL DEL MONTE is a well preserved, happy looking little
mediaeval town with a handful of tourists.
A chunk of time has passed.
JACK is sitting on a table outside a small BAR wearing dark
glasses, sipping a coffee and reading a guide book. He looks
like a tastefully dressed, well educated American tourist. He
blends in. And no one pays him much attention as he finishes
his coffee, pays his bill, gets up and leaves.
We follow JACK as he passes the parapet of the town ramparts
and looks across the spectacular valley...
...towards the deserted CASTELVECCHIO.
19 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, OLD TOWN CENTRE- DAY 19
At a leisurely pace, JACK passes a row of municipal rubbish
bins just inside the fortified gates to the old town.
Hidden well behind the bins we catch sight of JACK's parked
20 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- DAY 20
We're right in the heart of the mediaeval old town: like the
stronghold at the centre of a castle.
JACK approaches a small family run bed and breakfast just off
the main square.
The sign reads: "PENSIONE ABRUZZO".
21 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO- DAY 21
The internal courtyard is refreshingly cool.
In the centre of the courtyard is a FOUNTAIN made of marble
shot through with black veins.
In the fountain stands an alabaster STATUE OF A GIRL. She's
wearing a toga and holding a clam shell from which the water
falls. The water is delivered by a two and quarter millimetre
diameter pipe made of bronze.
As JACK crosses the courtyard he glances at the STATUE.
He finds it hard to tear his eyes away.
22 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- DAY 22
A toothbrush in the glass by the sink.
The guidebook on the bedside table.
Apart for this, JACK has avoided unpacking: living entirely
out of his holdall for some time.
From the holdall, JACK produces a pair of Leica 15x56 Geovid
BRF Rangefinding BINOCULARS.
Through his casement window he has good view of
He sweeps the town in grid formation: calm and methodical.
This is a routine assessment.
JACK's POV: apart from the occasional appearance of an old
man, woman or dog, the dead town across the valley is empty.
23 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 23
JACK is lying on top of his bed, fully clothed and wide
Taped to the inside of the wooden bed frame...
...is his WALTHER semi-automatic handgun.
24 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, OLD TOWN CENTRE- DAY 24
Blinding SUN fills frame.
JACK is ostensibly photographing the sights: the mediaeval
architecture, the square, the church.
25 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, CHURCH- DAY 25
The CHURCH is at the top of town. A PRIEST, dressed in black,
surveys the world below him:
Locals are going about their business, a few scattered
tourists are enjoying their holiday. One `tourist' catches
the PRIEST's attention.
Perhaps it's his build. Or the fact that he's the only
tourist on his own. Or perhaps it's the obsessive grid-like
methodology with which JACK photographs the little town...
26 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, ALLEYWAY- DAY 26
JACK turns casually down one of the town's many narrow
The alleyway way bends left and right in a series of blind
corners and dark tunnels, the street enclosed by arches,
criss-crossed by flying stone buttresses and flanked by
outside stairwells. It's a stalker's heaven- or hell-
depending on how dangerous the prey.
JACK proceeds along the alleyway until he gets to a
crossroads where FOUR NARROW ALLEYWAYS converge. Each
alleyway leads uphill or downhill with varying degrees of
steepness. JACK photographs each alleyway.
From an upstairs window he can hear the soundtrack of a game
show on television. From another alleyway comes the sound of
a barking dog.
No dog is visible.
Curious, JACK turns around, walking back the way he came.
The sound of barking gets louder.
On his right hand side, JACK finds a HIDDEN ARCHWAY.
The HIDDEN ARCHWAY resembles an archer's slit but is big
enough for a gown man to slip through. Unlike a window, the
`slit' is actually just a crack in a triangular convergence
of two separate and slightly overlapping ancient stone walls.
The confluence of two stone surfaces makes the narrow gap
between them very, very difficult to spot.
JACK slips though the HIDDEN ARCHWAY.
Inside is a courtyard.
27 INT. COURTYARD- DAY 27
Rotting doors lead to abandoned cellars and storerooms.
A MONGREL tied to a post is barking savagely, his leash
keeping him inches from sinking his bared fangs into JACK.
JACK stares at the dog: a mysterious creature of fear and
28 EXT. NARROW ALLEYWAY- DAY 28
JACK reappears through the HIDDEN ARCHWAY and slips back into
the narrow alleyway. It's like he's materialised from thin
He takes 2 PHOTOGRAPHS:
-first of the HIDDEN ARCHWAY
-and then of the street sign: VIA ROMANA.
Just then a MAN on an original 1970s DUCATI turns down the
alleyway and drives towards him.
Casually, JACK continues walking.
The DUCATI gets nearer. The MAN ON THE DUCATI is wearing a
black crash helmet with a tinted visor.
JACK picks up his pace.
The DUCATI is ten metres away.
JACK's right hand moves towards his pocket.
JACK's hand goes in his pocket.
JACK drops to his knees.
The DUCATI backfires for a second time.
Still on his knees, JACK pretends to tie his right shoe lace.
The MAN ON THE DUCATI stops outside an apartment further up
the alleyway, gets off his rickety motorbike and removes his
helmet. He's a corpulent, ruddy faced Italian man in his late
He glances at JACK.
MAN ON DUCATI
MAN ON DUCATI
Da dove provenite?
For an instant, the directness of the question catches JACK
MAN ON DUCATI
Si. Il Americano.
JACK's pronunciation is good but his grammar is a bit rusty.
Perhaps he's playing up on this. It suits the role of
The MAN laughs enthusiastically emphasizing the correct
MAN ON DUCATI
L'Americano ! L'Americano!
A WOMAN'S VOICE comes from within the house- loud and angry-
distracting the MAN ON THE DUCATI, who screams back
passionately, enters his front door, and shuts it behind him
with a hearty slam.
JACK walks on.
29 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- DAY 29
JACK puts some coins in a CIGARETTE MACHINE.
The MACHINE takes his money but won't dispense his
He hits the refund button but nothing happens.
JACK checks the time.
And thumps the machine hard.
JACK adjusts his position and checks the time again.
Can I help you?
The man behind him is reflected in the surface of JACK's
I'm no good with machines.
JACK turns, smiling politely.
The PRIEST smiles back.
He is dressed in an ill-fitting, un-stylish black suit, a
black silk stock and a deep Roman collar fraying at the edge.
His name is FATHER BENEDETTO. He is older than JACK.
You are American.
This is stated matter-of-factly: like a man practising
You speak Italian?
Va bene! You stay at Pensione
Also a statement: this time with touch of triumph.
JACK is disconcerted but doesn't show it.
Not for much longer.
This much is true- after a fashion. They speak in English
unless otherwise specified:
Lavoro? Che genere de lavoro?
Va bene. Che genere de fotografia?
Pictures of the region.
He stands straight and smiles winningly.
No people. Sights and landmarks.
For guidebooks, magazines...
Ah! Magazine! Which magazine?
JACK shows no discomfort.
Actually it's a syndicate. Lots of
different publications. Um... Casa
Va bene. So you must share a glass
of wine with me. Questa sera. This
JACK is slightly thrown.
You're very kind, but I...
Certo. You want to know the truth
about Abruzzo? A priest sees
30 EXT. PAY PHONE, CASTEL DEL MONTE- DAY 30
JACK is using the local PAY PHONE.
Do you have any idea how long I've
been trying to reach you? What
happened to the cell I gave you?
JACK speaks quietly, keeping an eye on the town square:
Did I forget to mention my
Don't get jumpy on me, Jack. That
cell was secure.
JACK lights a cigarette.
I've got a job. It's a custom fit.
You don't even have to pull the
Who's the client?
Relax. She triple checks out. Plus
she comes to you. You don't have to
move an inch.
This is a small town, Larry. I
don't like small towns. I grew up
in one. Besides, I'm already
So will anyone who's trying to kill
This is a good point.
JACK lights a cigarette.
I'll think about it.
Think about this. I cleaned up your
shit and made you disappear. You
owe me my usual twenty percent
commission plus the first
installment. The rest is yours.
After this you're free.
Turning over the word.
31 INT. FATHER BENEDETTO'S HOUSE- MAGIC HOUR 31
The SUN is sinking behind the high mountains that overlook
the hilltop town.
JACK is wearing an immaculate white linen shirt.
He's sitting in a small walled garden snuggled at the rear of
a crumbling fifteenth century edifice, overlooked yet
secluded and trapping the last rays of the sun.
FATHER BENEDETTO pours two large glasses of brandy from a
globulous green bottle of ARMAGNAC and sniffs his drink like
a honey bee hovering over a bloom.
Que siamo! The quality of the
brandy is good, the liquor is
smooth and the glass warmed by the
He pronounces warmed "war-med". His English is sophisticated
but quaint, like an out-of-date book.
JACK sniffs his drink before he sips it. Not like a
connoisseur: like a White House taster checking the safety of
a Presidential beverage.
The only good thing to come from
the Francesi, everything else...
FATHER BENEDETTO grimaces.
The French are... pezzi di merda.
This is not an American discovery.
Italians have known this for
centuries. [In ITALIAN] When Rome
called France the province of Gaul,
they were just the same. Arrogant
sensualists. Their cuisine is fussy
and their wine effeminate. Only
their brandy is worthy of any
FATHER BENEDETTO looks at JACK.
Forgive me. I speak too fast. You
study our history?
FATHER BENEDETTO looks horrified.
You come to Italy to make a guide
book and you don't care about
I take pictures, father.
Of course. You are American. You
think you can escape history. You
live for the present.
JACK likes this man. His shrewdness is disconcerting but
JACK sips his brandy.
I try to, father.
32 EXT. L'AQUILA- EVENING 32
Suburban sprawl with a mediaeval heart. L'AQUILA is the
capital of the Abruzzo region and the nearest big town to
Castel del Monte and Castelveccio.
Like these two villages L'AQUILA is relatively isolated,
nestled high up in the Appenine mountains.
33 EXT. L'AQUILA, SHOPPING STREET- EVENING 33
JACK comes out of a SUPERMARKET carrying two bags of
groceries and turns quickly down a dark side street.
34 EXT. L'AQUILA, VIA LAMPEDUSA- EVENING 34
JACK passes a sign for a MODELLING AGENCY. It's a small,
inconspicuous sign, but it catches his eye because its
graphics are subtly lewd and it's attached to the buzzer of
what is otherwise a purely residential apartment block.
Entering the apartment block is a beautiful twenty four year-
old Italian girl.
She catches JACK's eye.
He walks on.
35 INT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 35
The remnants of a simple yet sophisticated meal: apple,
pecorino cheese, honey and walnuts.
On his lap top, JACK has organised several weeks worth of
PHOTOGRAPHS of CASTEL DEL MONTE into three categories:
1. Street plan
2. Exit routes/car
3. Exit routes/foot
Now he is cleaning and oiling his WALTHER PPK/S.
36 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- DAY 36
JACK completes his morning exercises then showers and
dresses. His manner is precise and methodical. Only a man who
has lived alone for many years can live like this.
When his preparations are complete, he picks up his
BINOCULARS and studies the nearby town of CASTELVECCHIO
through his medieval casement window.
37 EXT. CASTELVECCIO, JACK'S POV- CONTINUOUS 37
The dead town has come to life!
There's a MARKET in progress. The central piazza is a hive of
activity. Food, local produce, clothes and cheap CD stalls.
The market has attracted TOURISTS. Standing by a phone box
not far from a cheese stall is an attractive WOMAN in dark
glasses. She's rifling through her handbag, searching for
something. Under her right arm is a rolled up copy of Il
We notice the front page of the Italian daily newspaper has
been folded in half.
38 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- CONTINUOUS 38
JACK lowers his binoculars.
Decides to proceed with caution.
39 EXT. CASTELVECCHIO- DAY 39
Moving through the busy market, JACK is also carrying a copy
of Il Messaggero...
...with the front page folded in half.
He approaches the OLD WOMAN running a cheese stall.
Un po' di formaggio, per favore.
Quale? Pecorino, parmigiano?
E un po' di pecorino.
JACK glances casually around for the WOMAN.
She's sitting outside a CAFE about twenty metres away,
chatting on her cellphone.
JACK pays for his cheese and approaches the cafe.
40 EXT. CASTELVECCHIO, CAFE- DAY 40
JACK sits at an empty table next to the WOMAN.
She finishes her call in English. She's well spoken. As she
replaces the phone in her handbag, she knocks the newspaper
off her table.
JACK picks it up.
Prego. You're welcome.
"Amidst gathering clouds".
The WOMAN speaks quickly, purposefully, barely looking at
You're assuming I'm English or
you'd never have mentioned the
weather. In fact I'm Belgian but I
went to boarding school in England.
And am quite happy to converse on
all subjects meteorological.
Judging by her stilted choice of words this is code.
A WAITER comes out and flicks a cloth over the table. It's
nearly midday and the sun is hot. He speaks with a tired
Buon giorno. Desidera?
He's addressing the WOMAN.
Una spremute di limone. Per favore.
Her Italian accent is perfect.
The WOMAN looks at JACK for the first time, studying him,
awaiting his answer as if a great deal depended on it.
Una gelata alla fragola. Per
The final fail safe.
Now they can introduce themselves:
The identification process over, there is nothing more to do
but get down to business- and conversation becomes suddenly
It's hot. My car has no air
conditioning. I asked for it,
She trails off.
What car did they give you?
Her HAZEL eyes flick over the crowd in front of the cafe.
She doesn't answer.
JACK clears his throat.
Then says quietly:
She takes a long time to answer. When she does, she does so
over the rim of her half-empty coffee cup, scanning the crowd
like a cheating wife customarily anxious not to be seen by
One fifty to one seven five meters.
Five seconds. Seven at the most.
Large. Preferably 9mm Parabellum.
The WAITER delivers the Spremuta and the raspberry ice-cream.
The glass of lemon juice twists in MATHILDE's slender
The weapon must be fairly light.
And compact. Possible to be broken
down into its constituent parts.
As compact as possible.
JACK clears his throat.
You want a submachine gun to fit in
a lady's purse?
A small vanity case would be
A small briefcase would be
X-rays? Camouflage: lap-top, DVD
player, MP3 or digital camera?
She's not sure if he's joking or not. Neither are we.
No such thing. You'll have to make
do with a suppressor like everyone
else. It'll dampen the decibels,
dislocate the sound source and
reduce muzzle flash. I can't make
you silent but I can make you
invisible as the Finnish phrase
goes, but only as long as you're
prepared to lose some range.
JACK scans the crowd.
On the other side of the square he spots a YOUNG MAN in his
mid-thirties with short blonde hair and slight sunburn,
hovering by a stall. Average height, slim, athletic build;
sunglasses, stone-washed designer jeans very neatly pressed
with a sharp crease.
By the clothes stall. Light blue
shirt, open at the neck, expensive
buff suede shoes. Is he with you?
The YOUNG MAN has disappeared into the crowd.
I didn't see him. In any case, I'm
JACK's jaw muscles grind.
I can accept a slight loss of
You want a weapon with the firing
capacity of a submachine gun and
the range of a rifle.
Can you do it?
Give me a month. To trial. Then a
week for final adjustments.
41 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, LANDSCAPE- TWILIGHT 41
The sun is sinking.
It's hunting hour.
A FALCON hovers on the wind above the town, looking for prey.
42 INT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, PENSIONE ABRUZZO- NIGHT 42
JACK is lying on top of his bed, fully clothed but fast
His eyes roll left and right beneath his lids.
In his right hand is a book of MEDIEVAL ITALIAN ART &
Twitching in his sleep, JACK's grip on the ART & ARCHITECTURE
BOOK slowly loosens...
As the BOOK hits the floor JACK opens his eyes, sits up and
rips the taped WALTHER from beneath the bed, pointing it at
JACK's heart is beating.
43 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- MORNING 43
JACK is looking through his BINOCULARS.
...of a small yellow and blue Italian POST OFFICE VAN heading
up the winding alpine road towards CASTELVECCIO.
44 EXT. CASTELVECCHIO- DAY 44
With the market gone, the town is once more dead.
And provides no cover.
JACK parks his car not far from the town square, turns off
the engine and gets out.
45 EXT. CASTELVECCHIO, TOWN SQUARE, CAFE- DAY 45
JACK is sitting in the CAFE where he met Mathilde.
He is watching the entrance to the local POST OFFICE.
He studies his WATCH.
It's been an hour and no one has come or gone from the tiny
rural branch of the Poste Italiane.
JACK puts the correct amount of change on the table and gets
46 INT. CASTELVECCHIO, POST OFFICE- DAY 46
The shop is small and dusty.
So is the POSTMASTER.
The POSTMASTER grunts his reply, jutting his chin.
Il fermo posta?
The POSTMASTER turns to a rack of pigeonholes behind a sack
of mail hanging in a metal frame like an old person's walking
aid. From one pigeonhole he draws a bundle of general
delivery envelopes held together by an elastic band. Some
have been there for weeks. Months even.
Deftly, like a teller counting through a thick wad of
banknotes he flicks through the mail with thin, wasted
Clarke. Una pacchetto.
This makes all the difference. The POSTMASTER clicks again,
disappearing behind the rack of pigeon holes...
Clarky, Clarky, Clarky. Ecco.
...and reappearing with a PACKAGE.
The PACKAGE is from an Italian PHOTOGRAPHIC SUPPLIERS.
JACK flicks his eyes downwards. He has already put his
PASSPORT on the counter.
The POSTMASTER scoops it up with bony fingers.
Looks from the picture to JACK.
JACK bears the scrutiny with a deadly straight face.
47 INT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, PENSIONE ARBRUZZO- EVENING 47
JACK unwraps the PACKAGE.
-a solid, monolythic rectangular receiver made out of a
single piece of lightweight alloy.
-a bolt assembly.
Only with this final piece is the puzzle complete.
Laid out on the floor is a SOCIMI 821 SUB-MACHINE GUN.
Without touching it, JACK studies the weapon like a
connoisseur looking at the hue of a wine. In particular he
notices that the SERIAL NUMBER has been scratched off.
Then he moves slowly, assembling the weapon with precision
-inserting the barrel into the front of the receiver and
securing it with the nut,
-opening the sidefolding tubular stock and engaging the
-snuggling the buttpad to his shoulder,
-looking down the barrel,
-and slowly squeezing back the finger-grooved TRIGGER as we
SMASH CUT TO:
48 INT. L'AQUILA, VIA LAMPEDUSA, CLARA'S ROOM- NIGHT 48
Our beautiful twenty four year-old Italian girl enters.
She sits on the edge of the bed, whose ageing metal springs
squeak slightly, and puts her smoking cigarette in an ashtray
on the bedside table.
She kicks off her slip-on shoes.
Slips off her panties.
Lifts her light cotton dress over her head and lies back on
the bed in one practised motion.
JACK sits on the bed beside her.
He doesn't look at her.
She reaches up to touch JACK as we cut to:
49 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, PAY PHONE- DAY 49
JACK is scanning the town square with his usual cautiousness.
Your source in Rome.
Clean bill of health and no OC.
This was a straight favour with a
dollar chaser, Jack. The guy's got
a second cousin in NOCS on the
graft who filched him the Socimi.
I hope you paid below the odds. The
more you pay them the more cops
gossip in the locker room.
No one's gossiping, Jack.
JACK watches FATHER BENEDETTO waving at him from the other
side of the square.
50 EXT. TOWN SQUARE- DAY 50
FATHER BENEDETTO is sitting in his API three-wheeler.
This comical and endearing method of rural transportation is
a cross between a moped and a miniature pick-up truck.
In the back of the truck are a mass of writhing SNAKES.
The API is turning over but it won't start.
The bonnet is open. JACK is fixing the engine.
He gives a signal and FATHER BENEDETTO turns the ignition key
This time the engine starts. FATHER BENEDETTO claps and
51 INT. FATHER BENEDETTO'S KITCHEN- EVENING 51
Sixteenth century. Sombre wood panelling stained dark with
polish and smoke. Two paraffin lamps stand on a huge antique
sideboard, their frosted orbs engraved with scenes from the
life of Our Lord.
The room is filled with a dining table: a massive black
edifice of oak, five inches thick with six legs fluted like
the columns of cathedrals.
Using antique crockery, ancient copper pots and utensils like
old fashioned instruments of torture FATHER BENEDETTO
performs culinary alchemy: transforming flesh into meat,
dough into bread, hard earth nuggets into vegetables.
He hums as he cooks: Opera arias. And Johnny Cash.
JACK sips from a glass of wine and watches FATHER BENEDETTO
potter around the wood fired stove. The priest has his own
wine which he sips as he works between bouts of humming.
52 INT. FATHER BENEDETTO'S KITCHEN- EVENING 52
JACK eats a bowl of chilled carrot and sorrel soup in
FATHER BENEDETTO watches him, pleased to see his guest so
As soon as JACK has finished, FATHER BENEDETTO invites him to
help himself from the ancient tureen.
Then he bustles over to the stove, humming again.
JACK eats, studying a framed photo of FATHER BENEDETTO with
his arm around a tough, corpulent Italian man in his mid-
FATHER BENEDETTO returns to the table with a large covered
dish issuing steam into his face.
He notices JACK's eye-line.
All the sheep in my flock are dear
to me, but some are dearer than
most. Especially those that have
strayed from the fold.
Off JACK's intrigued look FATHER BENEDETTO clarifies:
Fabio. He is a... [in ITALIAN] 'car
doctor'. But I suspect his practice
is not entirely sound. Ecco!
FATHER BENEDETTO whisks the lid off the covered dish
revealing a stew of poultry carcasses covered in sauce.
Fagiano. Pheasant. With sauce of
orange juice, orange peel,
chestnuts, garlic, Marsala wine
and... Come si dici in Inglese?
Brodo di Pollo. Chicken broth.
FATHER BENEDETTO serves each of them with a complete bird and
pours white wine into fresh glasses.
Also: salsify in garlic butter.
Mange-tout. Fried wild mushrooms
JACK helps himself to vegetables.
FATHER BENEDETTO watches him as he savours his first taste.
JACK licks his lips and sips some cold white wine.
The two men regard one another, the priest awaiting a
FATHER BENEDETTO shrugs.
The Holy Father eats better than
The flash of a smile crosses the priest's face.
Have you ever wanted to be anything
other than a priest?
Have you ever wanted to be anything
other than a... come se dice in
I do what I'm good at.
I'm sure you have other talents.
You have the hands of a craftsman,
not an artist. You are good with
machines. Yet you told me just the
opposite when we first met.
JACK hides his unease from the watchful priest.
Journalism cannot make you a rich
FATHER BENEDETTO's eyes flick over the ROLEX.
Perhaps you are rich already?
I'm not a young man. I have my
My meagre income is subject to the
vagaries of the stock market and
with church attendance declining
there's less and less money in the
offertory. But if a man has God in
He looks searchingly at JACK.
I don't think God is interested in
I know better than to try to make a
convert over pheasant and
JACK is silent.
The two men continue eating.
What are the snakes for, father?
FATHER BENEDETTO taps the end of his nose in the universal
sign for secrecy.
"The grave soul keeps its own
secrets, and takes its own
punishment in silence."
He has a twinkle in his eye. The priest is on a mission to
extract the truth... and JACK knows it.
53 EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN- DAY 53
JACK is driving.
He checks the rear view mirror.
JACK accelerates the CAR, driving it hard at the sidewalk.
The vehicle slams into the curb, mounting the pavement with a
thump of crunching metal.
54 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE- DAY 54
Just east of the old city walls a dirt track meanders
downhill through a series of small holdings, allotments and
scrap metal yards.
The CAR moves slowly. We can hear the scrape of trailing
JACK pulls up beside a high chain fence.
The DOGS on the other side start barking. This sets off other
dogs in other scrap yards.
JACK gets out of the car and approaches a makeshift hut
beside the fence. Before he's a metre from the door it opens
and a tough, well-built, unshaven Italian man in his mid-
twenties looks him up and down.
Sono un amico di Padre Benedetto.
Suspicion gives way suddenly to warmth:
JACK smiles politely.
55 INT. WORKSHOP- DAY 55
The metal door slides open. FABIO leads JACK inside.
At the back of the cluttered workshop is a blue ALFA ROMEO
being resprayed white. Beside it, one half of a LANCIA is
being welded to another.
JACK knows better than to stare. He follows FABIO through
56 INT. BACK OFFICE- DAY 56
Girly calendars, Italian style.
I'm taking pictures forty minutes
north of here. Right up in the
mountains. Father Benedetto said
you might be able to help.
You need models. For your
photographs? Italian girls?
He winks at JACK. He's being friendly.
My publisher wouldn't stretch to a
four by four and the park trails
are playing havoc with my chassis.
The technical English is slightly beyond FABIO's grasp.
This suits JACK.
Want me to take a look?
Not really. I just need something
to work on a ruptured driveshaft.
You're a mechanic?
Just a hobby. I tinker.
JACK looks at the TOOLS hanging on the walls and littering
the work benches.
Help yourself. [In ENGLISH] My
garage is your garage.
I appreciate that.
FABIO gets on with work, sliding himself beneath the
resprayed Alfa Romeo.
JACK picks out various implements, laying them on the work
surface: drill, hacksaw, lathe, vice, mallet.
Behind an oil pan with a jagged hole in it he discovers
several GEAR WHEELS with the teeth sheared off. He holds the
biggest one up.
FABIO is engrossed his work.
Si! Si! Va bene!
FABIO grins and growls. A gearwheel with no bite is useless
JACK wraps the gearwheel in a sheet of oily newspaper and
puts it in the sports bag with the tools.
At the door, he pauses.
That's when JACK sees it on the notice board. A PHOTOGRAPH of
FATHER BENEDETTO and FABIO. FABIO is much younger in this
photo: fourteen or fifteen years old. He's wearing an AS Roma
football strip. Again: the priest has his arm around the boy.
57 INT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, CHURCH- DAY 57
FATHER BENEDETTO rings the CHURCH BELLS for Mass.
58 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, CHURCH TOWER- CONTINUOUS 58
THREE CHURCH BELLS ringing: large, medium and small.
As the CLAPPERS hit the SOUNDBOWS we smash cut to:
59 INT. JACK'S ROOM, PENSIONE ABRUZZO- CONTINUOUS 59
JACK has laid out his newly acquired tools on the flag stone
floor of his room.
Beside them is the SOCIMI SUB-MACHINE GUN.
Using the CHURCH BELLS as sound cover...
...JACK puts the GEARWHEEL on a flag stone tile and smashes
it into five pieces with a four pound MALLET.
60 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO- NIGHT 60
By torchlight, JACK is fashioning CONNECTORS from the smashed
It's very, very tricky work and his eyes ache in the poor
61 EXT. ITALIAN LANDSCAPE- DAY 61
JACK is wearing a knapsack. He's crossing a MEADOW and making
his way towards a RUINED HAMLET. His manner is dark,
The grass is long and the trees offer deep shade. JACK stops.
Everywhere there is a profusion of wild flowers.
His guardedness begins to evaporate. He has never seen
anything so beautiful or utterly uncorrupted. He looks
around, transfixed by delicate yellows and mauves, brash
whites, harsh and brilliant crimsons, exquisite blues. The
air is humming with insects, bees and butterflies.
JACK is transfixed.
62 EXT. RUINED HAMLET- DAY 62
JACK scrambles up towards the abandoned houses, sweating in
His original cautiousness has returned. Carefully, he checks
the area for signs of recent disturbance. From the foot of
the deserted hamlet he surveys the VALLEY with binoculars,
monitoring every square on an imaginary grid for human
activity. Satisfied that he's alone, he takes a deep breath
of mountain air.
And scrambles back down to the valley.
63 EXT. WOODS- DAY 63
JACK has parked his CITROEN in the shade of a squat but ample
WALNUT TREE. In the near distance is a LAKE.
JACK crunches over half-formed walnuts until he reaches a
patch of soft grass beside the water.
This, he decides, is the perfect spot. He unrolls a blanket,
kneels, and from his KNAPSACK he produces:
-a polystyrene cool box packed with ice and containing a
chilled bottle of Frascati
-a loaf of course bread
-50 gms of pecorino
-100 gms of proscuitto
-a small jar of black olives
-and a rolled blanket containing the disassembled parts of
the SOCIMI SUBMACHINE GUN.
JACK sets the stopwatch on his weather beaten ROLEX.
It takes approximately thirty-four seconds to assemble the
bastardised SOCIMI- including TELESCOPIC SIGHTS and SOUND
SUPPRESSOR- and a further six seconds to press TEN ROUNDS
into the magazine, slot it into the base of the hand grip,
snuggle the butt to his shoulder and place his eye beside the
rubber cup on the sight.
Carefully he surveys the lake. Settles on a CLUMP OF REEDS.
And with the focus and dexterity of a surgeon, concentrates
until his grip and aim are perfectly tense and still.
...as JACK holds his breath. Then squeezes the trigger.
Not the conventional "phut, phut, phut" of a movie silencer,
but the genuine dampened sonic boom of a TAC 65 sound
Through the sight we see the water churn at four o'clock to
the REED CLUMP and four metres off.
From the knapsack, JACK takes a watchmaker's steel-handled
screwdriver and adjusts the sight, then loads another ten
rounds in the magazine.
CHOOP! CHOOP! CHOOP!
The reeds are clipped, the bullets slapping into the bank
behind, mud spurting.
JACK adjusts again and reloads.
The reed clump is shot to shit.
64 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO- DAY 64
The sound of CHURCH BELLS.
JACK is at work:
-modifying the SOUND SUPPRESSOR to make it more efficient
-filing the CONNECTORS until the trigger squeeze is softer
-adjusting the position of the TELESCOPIC SIGHT mountings
-checking the balance of the weapon: JACK poises it on the
edge of a ruler over the pencil mark he has determined to be
the gun's centre of gravity.
The SOCIMI balances perfectly.
By now the sun is low and the light fading. JACK's eyes are
sore and his fingers aching.
He sits on his bed with his hands on his knees, silent in the
65 INT. BROTHEL, VIA LAMPEDUSA- NIGHT 65
We're in the living room of a small apartment. It's simply
and attractively furnished. There are 2 GIRLS: not obviously
The FIRST GIRL is on her mobile phone. Every now and again
she glances at JACK. The SECOND GIRL approaches him for a
E Clara qui?
[Is Clara here?]
Non e stasera qui.
[She's not here tonight.]
She loops her arm through JACK's.
Volete una bevanda?
[Would you like a drink?]
JACK shakes his head.
Forse un altro tempo.
[Perhaps another time.]
66 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE- NIGHT 66
JACK parks in his usual hiding spot and heads for his
A hundred yards ahead of him on the other side of the street
is the same YOUNG MAN he spotted in Castelveccio.
Cautiously, so as not to spook him, JACK continues walking,
passing his pensione and heading for the town square.
The YOUNG MAN is four parked cars away, leaning against a
Fiat parked in front of a small pharmacy, his right hand on
the roof, bending over as if speaking to the car's local
occupant who appears to be giving him directions.
Twice he looks up and gazes along the street in both
directions, casually, as if keeping an eye open for passing
traffic in the narrow street.
...JACK side steps swiftly into the local bar.
67 INT. BAR- DAY 67
Crowded with locals. JACK orders a coffee.
Through the window he tries to keep an surreptitious eye on
the YOUNG MAN. But the darkness outside throws back
reflections of the bright neon-lit bar within.
One reflection catches our attention.
The Italian girl. CLARA.
She is drinking and laughing with friends, young Italians
like her. She catches sight of JACK.
He turns away.
68 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE- NIGHT 68
JACK comes out of the bar with his hand in his pocket.
No sign of the YOUNG MAN.
He slips down a side street.
69 EXT. SIDE STREETS- NIGHT 69
JACK slips from one side street to another taking full
advantage of short-cuts, alleyways and crumbling walls. His
route is circuitous. It betrays a perfect knowledge of the
maze-like back streets of the town.
Eventually JACK peeps out of a tiny passageway half-way down
his own street and on the opposite side of the road from his
The entrance to the PENSIONE is clear.
JACK crosses the street and slips inside.
70 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO- NIGHT 70
We're in the corridor outside JACK'S ROOM.
JACK takes his right hand from his pocket.
He's clutching the WALTHER.
Slowly, he reaches his left hand upwards, towards the lintel
above the door where he finds...
...a single FEATHER.
71 INT. JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 71
From the inside of the room we watch four sturdily fashioned
deadbolt locks slide open. Each lock is new and home made.
JACK enters, shuts the door, locks all four bolts. And sits
on the bed.
72 EXT. ROADSIDE PAY PHONE- MORNING 72
A cluster of houses by the side of a main road: a bar, a
restaurant, a phone box.
JACK puts a coin in the slot. Two rings.
I've got company.
JACK scans the area outside.
If he's not baby-sitting the
Belgian contract then he's either a
Joe, a cop or a shooter. He's not
with The Company, they're fast:
it's been three days and no TA.
He's not intel: they're deep
background and he wants to be
noticed. He might be a cowboy but
he can't be a cop: they work in
pairs and he's alone. Strike Guarda
di Finanza, State Police and NOCS:
he's not Italian- he doesn't look
like one, dress like one or behave
like one. So who the hell is he?
You got a long list of enemies,
What's he waiting for?
JACK hears the sound of an engine.
His hand moves to his pocket.
He watches a black VW SHARON pass. There's a family inside.
Want me to help take care of this?
I can handle it.
You sound spooked.
It's a bad line.
I appreciate the value of a pre-
emptive strike in circumstances
like these, I really do, but if
you're going to go Generation Kill
then do me a favour, OK, because
I'm running out of bribe money. [A
BEAT] Make it look like an
73 EXT. TRAIN STATION- DAY 73
Little more than a halt: one platform, one track, one station
building- locked and shuttered.
JACK steps out of his car.
No one around.
He checks his watch: it's exactly noon.
A TRAIN approaches.
It's a three-carriage local. It rattles round the bend in the
track up the valley, diesel fumes pluming. There are no more
than a dozen passengers on board.
MATHILDE is the only one to alight.
Her once brown hair is now BLONDE. She's wearing a light
summer skirt and carrying a navy blue canvas sports bag.
They shake hands as the train pulls away, belching and
honking as it rattles over the girders of an iron bridge and
crosses some alpine rapids.
Mr. Clarke. How good to see you
Something quaint, old fashioned in her diction. English with
the hint of a Belgian accent.
JACK opens the boot of his car and she places her sports bag
beside a WICKER PICNIC HAMPER.
The Carabinieri around here like
roadblocks. It's cover.
They get into the car.
As the JACK's door slams we smash cut to:
74 INT. CAR- DAY 74
MATHILDE's sunglasses reflect the alpine landscape.
You picked a beautiful spot.
She takes off her shades.
Her once hazel eyes are now GREY-BLUE.
She glances round the hire car's drab plastic interior.
You would be hard pressed to make a
fast get away in this.
Perhaps she's nervous. Her attempt at humour isn't working
and she stumbles slightly on her grammar:
I would have thought you to have
had at least an Alfa Romeo.
This attracts less attention.
Is it far?
She looks up through the sun roof at the high mountains over
She eases herself back, resigned to a long climb.
The train was tiring. One has to
keep alert so much in cities.
Her eyelids are drooping.
I'll wake you before the turn-off.
She smiles gratefully. But does not shut her tired eyes.
The CLOCK on the dash reads 12:17
75 INT. CAR- DAY 75
JACK negotiates the alpine road, leaning into the steering
wheel, shifting up or down a gear and glancing from the
mirror to the road and back again
MATHILDE is asleep.
JACK scans her, taking in every detail: her low-heeled shoes
are expensive but she wears no jewelry except a Seiko wrist-
watch on a metal strap and a thin gold chain at her throat.
Her tan is light, her breasts neat and her legs shapely and
But JACK doesn't look at her like an object of desire. He
looks at her cautiously, with an expression that says: "this
young woman is ruthless. If she were not, she wouldn't be
That's when he notices the CAR in his rear view mirror.
It's too far behind to decipher the make or model and it
weaves in and out of frame as JACK negotiates the alpine
MATHILDE wakes with a start. The CLOCK on the dash reads
Are we nearly there?
The turn-off's up ahead.
His eyes flick to the rear view mirror. Hers to the wing.
She spots the CAR behind. JACK catches her eye questioningly.
I told you I work alone.
JACK slows just before the turn off and pulls over.
Now its MATHILDE's turn to look questioning.
Just a precaution.
He gets out of the car and pretends to urinate.
The CAR behind passes at speed.
A blue Seat. The driver neither slows down nor looks in their
JACK gets back in the car.
And turns off up a dirt track that disappears into the
76 EXT. WOODS- DAY 76
JACK parks his CITROEN in the shade of the squat but ample
WALNUT TREE. In the near distance is a large LAKE. This is
the exact spot where he came to test the weapon.
MATHILDE gets out of the car and stretches.
Are those houses occupied?
JACK looks at the RUINED HAMLET on the hillside.
Derelict. I checked three days ago.
We should check again.
I'll check alone. There are adders
the mountains. And vipers. Your
I'll be careful.
Her voice is curt. The trust she showed him in the car is
77 EXT. ITALIAN LANDSCAPE- DAY 77
They cross a meadow and make their way towards the RUINED
HAMLET. The grass is long and the trees offer deep shade.
JACK walks in front to ward off any snakes.
Everywhere there is a profusion of wild meadow flowers.
MATHILDE has never seen anything so beautiful. Overwhelmed,
JACK stops. And watches her.
She undergoes the same transformation that he did.
Then she comes to, remembering herself... and walks on.
Suddenly... a four foot ASP VIPER slithers across JACK's
He claps his hands and the SNAKE writhes for cover.
JACK walks on. MATHILDE follows, pretending not to be
frightened but walking closer to JACK now, scanning the long
78 EXT. RUINED HAMLET- DAY 78
JACK scrambles up towards the houses, checking the area for
signs of recent disturbance. MATHILDE follows.
From beside the end building JACK surveys the valley with a
tiny pair of binoculars, monitoring every square on the
imaginary grid for human activity.
You have tested the gun here
Satisfied that he's alone, he lowers his binoculars. MATHILDE
takes a deep breath of mountain air.
It's beautiful here.
She is sitting on a loose stone wall at the edge of what was
once a terraced field. Her dress dips between her legs as she
leans forward and rests her forearms on her knees, tired from
the journey and the long, hot climb.
I wish everywhere could be this
JACK looks at her, sensing a kindred spirit.
You'd be out of a job.
You don't like the peace?
It's hard to like something you
know nothing about.
79 EXT. WOODS- DAY 79
The WICKER PICNIC HAMPER is sitting on a rug by between the
parked car and the lake. From the hamper, JACK removes:
-a polystyrene cool box packed with ice and containing a
chilled bottle of Aspirinio
-a loaf of course bread
-two clods of mozarella
-150 gms of proscuitto
-100 gms of parma ham
-a large jar of pitted green olives
-a Thermos of sweet black coffee
-and, wrapped in cloth squares, the disassembled parts of the
improved SOCIMI SUBMACHINE GUN.
As MATHILDE starts to assemble the weapon with easy skill,
JACK checks the stopwatch on his ROLEX.
It takes her approximately twenty-eight seconds to assemble
the bastardised gun- including TELESCOPIC SIGHTS and SOUND
SUPPRESSOR- and a further three seconds to slot the empty
magazine into the base of the hand grip, snuggle the butt to
her shoulder and place her eye beside the rubber cup on the
She's almost ten seconds faster than JACK.
He stares at her: not an alluring young woman with good legs
and nice tits but an extension of the weapon itself and
everything it means.
I've made up two sorts.
He reaches into the PICNIC HAMPER.
Thirty lead and thirty jacketed.
I should like a hundred of each.
It's an order: her voice is emotionless.
And fifty explosive.
Not a problem.
He hands her the practise ammunition in two small cartridge
boxes: the shells snug in little plastic trays.
Will mercury do?
She smiles almost imperceptibly.
Mercury will do very nicely.
She puts the gun down butt-first, leaning it against the side
of the car.
I have made my own targets.
She reaches into her BLUE CANVAS SPORTS BAG and removes
several pieces of folded cardboard strengthened with split
Without speaking she sets off through the alpine blooms. In
her wake flutter a confetti of butterflies and grass
crickets, honey bees sizzling frantically as her loose summer
skirt sweeps across the flowers.
Watch out for vipers.
He keeps his voice down but she hears him nonetheless, waving
with her right hand: the hand holding the AMMUNITION BOXES.
She's no fool.
Neither is he. He has the gun.
At ninety meters distance she stops beside a pile of smooth
stones- a boundary cairn- overgrown with little purple
She unfolds the cardboard. At this distance all we can make
out is a silver-grey shape against the stones.
Returning to the car she picks up the weapon.
At least three hundred and sixty
miles per hour. That's including
twenty off the top for the sound
Impressed, MATHILDE looks at the marks on the metal where the
serial number has been removed with acid.
I've not had one before.
You'll find it easy. I've re-
balanced it for the longer barrel.
The fulcrum is two centimetres
forward of the grip now. Which
won't matter if you're firing- and
I'm guessing you are- from a fixed
No major recoil issues. You should
be able to hold onto any target.
Even the smallest.
MATHILDE puts two jacketed rounds into the magazine and
stands with her feet apart, braced. The breeze beneath the
walnut tree ruffles her summer skirt and presses it against
For a moment longer she holds on the target then lowers the
gun, holding it under her arm like a lady on a shire hunt
would hold a 12 bore.
You've done a good job, Mr. Clarke.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
She makes a minute adjustment to the telescopic sight, with
her fingernail. She can't have turned the vertical screw more
than one notch.
Then she fully loads and fires again.
JACK lifts his binoculars and looks at the target. It's the
unmistakable outline of a BOEING 747-400, about one and a
half metres long. Painted against the cut-out is the upturn
at the end of the wing. The front doorway is shaded in.
Standing in it is the SILHOUETTE OF A MAN. In the centre of
his head are three small HOLES.
With the magazine containing the remaining 28 jacketed
rounds, MATHILDE takes aim again.
Through his binoculars, JACK can see the empty space where
the target's head used to be, the scarred stones behind and
the little scraps of cardboard floating on the warm air.
MATHILDE says nothing. She fills the magazine with lead
rounds, snaps it in place and hands the weapon to JACK.
Go to the stones and fire near me.
He's taken aback.
She looks round for a target.
...into the bush with the yellow
flowers. Two bursts. Five seconds
Slowly, JACK walks down to the stones, turns and looks back.
The CITROEN is well hidden in the deep shade of the walnut
tree. So is MATHILDE. In the poor light all he can see is her
dress and her blouse. He wipes the sweat from his eyes and
shuts them tightly.
This is not just a weapon test... it's a test of trust.
He opens his eyes again.
MATHILDE turns to face him as he shoulders the weapon.
He aims the SOCIMI at the YELLOW FLOWERS right beside her.
Holds his breath.
And pulls the trigger.
MATHILDE remains untouched.
So do the YELLOW FLOWERS.
Troubled, JACK blinks rapidly and counts to five.
Then he fires again.
CHOOP! CHOOP! CHOOP!
Through the sight, we see two stems of YELLOW BLOSSOM fall
Relieved, JACK walks slowly back to the car.
The sound suppression is superb. I
couldn't place the direction of
From her sports bag she removes a plain brown MANILLA
I shall require the rounds and the
weapon by the first of next month.
In the meantime would you tighten
the adjusting screws on the sight,
they are too loose. And lengthen
the stock by three centimetres. I
also want a sixty round magazine.
You'll upset the balance.
I'm prepared to accept that.
Then I'm happy to oblige.
What about the a case?
A briefcase. Samsonite. Standard
pattern in black with combination
locks. Is there a number you'd
MATHILDE hands him the ENVELOPE and disassembles the weapon.
JACK wraps the SOCIMI parts up in their cloth squares and
places them in the bottom of the PICNIC HAMPER.
What do you want done with these?
She has collected up the spent CARTRIDGE CASES.
Throw them in the lake.
She walks down to the water and hurls the brass cases in.
Again, the beauty of the place transfixes her.
By the time she turns back, JACK has laid out the picnic.
She picks up a bottle of wine.
I don't know Italian wine.
Aspirinio. Like Mosacata but
Deftly he uncorks a bottle.
And pours it into the grass.
It wouldn't look right if the
picnic wasn't touched.
You chilled the wine. I thought...
It had to be chilled. They're
You think of everything.
I'm paid to. Don't move.
JACK points slowly.
On her tanned forearm is a BUTTERFLY.
They both stare at the insect, transfixed.
It's so beautiful.
Parnassius apollo. It's endangered.
She looks up at him. Like it's a revelation she says:
You like coming here.
It serves its purpose.
You've never taken a woman here
JACK is momentarily taken aback.
The BUTTERFLY flits away.
Perhaps you do not have a woman in
your life. It is not easy for us to
keep relationships. Not in our
I have an acquaintance.
She waits for him to say more.
Friendships are transitory. It
Suddenly, there's movement in the bushes.
JACK snatches up his BINOCULARS. MATHILDE scans the tree
He hands her the binoculars. And hurriedly packs up the
80 INT. CAR- DAY 80
Her sunglasses back on, MATHILDE watches the meadows slip
backwards in the nearside wing mirror as the car bumps back
down the alpine track.
I wish you hadn't brought me here.
Again... a real sadness.
JACK glances at her.
This is the sort of place I wish
I'd discovered by myself. Then
maybe one day I could have retired
here. But you already know it.
JACK is touched.
I'm much older than you. By the
time you've retired I'll be dead.
81 EXT. RURAL TRAIN STATION- DAY 81
The CITROEN pulls up.
82 INT. CITROEN- DAY 82
The YOUNG WOMAN's manner is once more tense and formal.
We will meet as before?
The distant sound of a DIESEL ENGINE. The train is
On the first of next month?
He nods again.
Not even a nod this time: just a slow blink.
MATHILDE opens the door, runs around to the boot and grabs
her canvas sports bag. Then returns to the passenger side of
the car and looks in.
Thank you for a lovely day. Mr.
She leans in..
...and kisses him lightly on the cheek, her lips light and
quick on his stubble.
You must take your mistress to the
meadow for a picnic.
She closes the car door, walks onto the platform and vanishes
onto a waiting carriage. The TRAIN honks and belches, moving
off down the track in the direction from which it came.
JACK watches it go.
And drives off.
83 INT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, LOCAL BAR- NIGHT 83
Two OLD MEN drinking beer at the bar. Two more at a table,
playing Scopa with old fashioned Trentine playing cards.
Sitting at the back of the room, JACK stares at a shot of
Above him, mounted on the wall, is a TELEVISION. On the TV is
a Western: Charles Bronson and Henry Fonda in ONCE UPON A
TIME IN THE WEST.
JACK downs his shot, gets up and walks over to the bar. Pays.
The BARMAN nods at the screen.
Sergio Leone. Italiano.
JACK turns and looks.
HENRY FONDA in close-up, is about to shoot a red headed BOY
of seven in the head.
JACK stares. Just at the moment that the gun goes off...
...JACK turns away.
(in poor ENGLISH)
You like cow boy movie?
Then shakes his head.
84 INT. BROTHEL, VIA LAMPEDUSA- NIGHT 84
CLARA and JACK are naked.
JACK tries to kiss her on the lips but CLARA turns away: just
enough to let him know this is against the rules.
JACK kisses her neck. Her breasts. Her stomach.
As he moves his head between her legs, her fingers (already
ensnared in his hair) tighten their grip, stopping him from
JACK looks up at CLARA, across her belly, and she looks back
at him, her expression fixed yet curious.
Against her rules but not, we sense, against her wishes, JACK
kisses CLARA softly, tenderly, deeply until she is moving
against his tongue, using her sex like a mouth to kiss him in
They make love, breaking each of Clara's two remaining rules
in turn. First: JACK puts her in a position she initially
resists. Then: he kisses her.
CLARA comes, not wanting to.
Suddenly, preoccupied, JACK does not.
85 INT. BROTHEL, VIA LAMPEDUSA- NIGHT 85
JACK is in bed with CLARA.
She looks at him.
Morboso is like... when you can't
stop thinking about something.
He stares back at her: wordless.
A long pause: her eyes searching his. JACK sits up, lights a
cigarette and stands by the window, looking through the
blind, down into the street.
You needn't act.
CLARA watches him, confused but fascinated.
You might have to act with your
other clients but you don't have to
pretend anything at all with me.
She lights herself a cigarette.
I want you to be yourself with me.
Be as indifferent as you like. I
came here to get pleasure, not to
He hands her CASH.
She counts it.
Maybe I pretend very well. I got
more tip than the other girls
He walks to the door.
I don't sleep with the other girls.
86 INT. JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 86
JACK is asleep.
He is not alone.
In the bed beside him:
Pale as death.
Eyes rolled back in her sockets.
JACK wakes up suddenly, gasping.
The bed is empty, the sheets twisted and damp.
87 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE- DAWN 87
...over one of the most desolate and beautiful landscapes in
88 INT. JACK'S ROOM- DAWN 88
In the gun-metal light of dawn, fiddly work:
-cartridges taken apart
-tiny holes drilled in the nose to a depth of precisely 3mm
-the hole half-filled with mercury
-and plugged with a drop of liquid lead.
JACK is converting jacketed ammunition into EXPLOSIVE
89 INT. CHURCH- DAY 89
Outside, the sun is merciless. Inside, JACK has taken refuge
in the cool of the church. He is alone. He is not praying.
Just staring impassively at the gaudy crucifixion: at the
thorns and the nails and the running blood.
Footsteps. JACK checks for reflections in his watch.
It's FATHER BENEDETTO: dressed for Mass.
I've been looking for you.
He mops the sweat from his brow with the hem of his Soutane,
takes JACK by the arm and leads him to one side, away from
the light of the candles.
A man was here asking questions
He came to the church this
What did he want?
To know where you live. He said he
was a friend from Switzerland.
And you told him?
The priest looks at with complete disdain:
Of course I do not tell him. How do
I know him? He is maybe the police.
Certainly he is no friend. A friend
would know your pensione.
FATHER BENEDETTO leans close and whispers:
Friends do not carry guns.
FATHER BENEDETTO glances shrewdly at JACK, his eyes searching
If you live in Italy, and you are a
man of the cloth, you meet many
people. Besides, I lived once in
Naples. If you live in Naples you
know the difference between a fat
wallet and a... custodia per armi
di spalla. How you say in English?
JACK glances up and down the aisle.
OLD LADIES are dribbling into church in twos and threes.
The BELL for mass starts ringing.
You're a true friend, father.
I am a priest.
JACK turns to go.
Again the priest leans close, holding JACK by the elbow in a
gesture of austere confidence.
I make a mistake. He did not say he
was from La Svizzera: Switzerland.
He said- forgive me the names in
Italian are so similar- La Svezia:
90 EXT. CHURCH, ROOF- DAY 90
THREE BELLS are ringing in the tower. Beneath them, a row of
mediaeval GARGOYLES (dragons, griffins, dogs and devils) look
down over the little town, their faces frightening or
JACK is among the gargoyles, leaning over parapet, his eyes
made huge by a pair of tiny binoculars, surveying the town
below, checking each square of the grid for a glimpse of the
Nothing. Then he notices:
Parked in the shadow of a spreading chestnut tree not far
from the main square. An AUDI...
...with the YOUNG MAN we spotted in Castelveccio market
sitting at the wheel.
91 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, STREET- NIGHT 91
The YOUNG MAN comes out of a shop.
This is the first time we've seen him up close. In his early
thirties, he's wearing a dark brown leather jacket and
expensive jeans. His blonde hair is cropped short, and
there's the hint of a botched prison-cell tattoo visible just
beneath the collar of his shirt.
The YOUNG MAN opens a small silver tin and a single deft
movement removes a portion of SNUS (Swedish chewing tobacco)
and inserts the it between his top lip and gum.
It is a strangely sinister act.
Then he blends in with the tourists, milling down the Corso
and round the square heading towards...
92 INT. BAR- NIGHT 92
JACK is sitting in the window, making himself as visible as
possible to the world outside.
He downs a Grappa: then gets up to pay for it. His movements
are slow and leisurely.
The BARMAN hands him his change. And a small white ENVELOPE.
JACK is not expecting this.
Someone left this for
"L'Americano". This afternoon.
JACK looks at the ENVELOPE.
He turns casually away from the BARMAN's prying eyes and
opens the envelope with extreme caution.
Inside is a folded CUTTING. It's from the Swedish Daily
JACK unfolds the cutting. We catch a glimpse of:
-A police line.
-Three dead bodies in the snow: the two hitmen and the girl.
Heart racing, JACK slips the cutting in his pocket.
Grabs three SUGAR CUBES from a silver bowl on the bar.
93 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- NIGHT 93
The YOUNG MAN is watching a PUPPET SHOW in the middle of the
square. The PUPPETEER is using glove puppets and the Punch
and Judy style performance involves Punch fucking Judy with a
grotesquely carved, outsize sex organ. There is a large crowd
JACK leaves the bar, turning left and walking purposefully
down the street.
The YOUNG MAN follows.
94 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, CORSO FREDERICO- NIGHT 94
It's a hot summer night and there are more tourists than
The YOUNG MAN uses them as cover.
JACK turns down a dark, deserted alleyway.
The YOUNG MAN hesitates.
His right hand moves casually to his jacket pocket.
And he follows.
95 EXT. ALLEYWAY- NIGHT 95
We're with the YOUNG MAN as he stalks his prey through the
mediaeval maze of streets...
We end up in the narrow alleyway that JACK photographed on
his first day in town.
Up ahead, disappearing round a distant bend, we catch a
glimpse of JACK, his heels CLACKING on the cobbles.
The YOUNG MAN follows swiftly, his trainers silent. He gets
to a crossroads where FOUR NARROW ALLEYWAYS- all identical-
converge. The YOUNG MAN is unsure which alleyway to take.
The streets are empty.
From an upstairs window he can hear the soundtrack of a late
night film on television. It's a romantic film, the violins
muffled and sad with longing.
From another alleyway comes the sound of SAVAGE BARKING. The
YOUNG MAN looks around for the source of the barking, but the
streets are empty.
Suddenly, the barking stops.
The YOUNG MAN looks confused.
From his right hand jacket pocket we hear the unmistakable
CLICK of a cocking mechanism.
96 EXT. COURTYARD- NIGHT 96
We're recognise the secret courtyard: the one reached by
means of the hidden archway.
With one hand, JACK feeds another SUGAR CUBE to the MONGREL.
With the other hand, he holds his WALTHER behind his back...
...and cocks it.
97 EXT. ALLEYWAY- NIGHT 97
The YOUNG MAN is waiting at the far end of the alleyway,
hugging the wall, scanning the CROSSROADS ahead, unsure which
of the four possible alleyways holds his prey.
JACK emerges from the HIDDEN ARCHWAY and walks quickly up
JACK has removed his shoes and his bare feet are silent.
He has thirty metres to cover. The gun hangs heavy in his
right hand. It's fitted with a TAC 65 SOUND SUPPRESSOR. He
raises his right hand.
The gun is pointing at the YOUNG MAN.
His finger takes up the slack of the trigger.
A DUCATI turns into the alleyway behind JACK, its headlights
on full beam.
JACK drops his right hand and thrusts his silenced WALTHER
deep into his jacket pocket.
The YOUNG MAN looks his way.
JACK is outlined by the moped's beam of light.
The two men are face to face, within spitting distance.
The DUCATI hurtles towards the YOUNG MAN.
The MAN ON THE DUCATI is wearing a tinted BLACK CRASH HELMET.
The YOUNG MAN's eyes widen with fear.
The DUCATI misfires.
Mistaking the sound for gunfire, the YOUNG MAN drops, rolls
and fires back.
We hear the sound of a single suppressed shot: CHOOP!
The BULLET grazes the FRONT SUSPENSION of the DUCATI and
lodges in the REAR COWLING.
The MAN ON THE DUCATI swerves and crashes, hitting a stone
JACK looks around.
The YOUNG MAN has disappeared.
The MAN ON THE DUCATI is out cold.
The front wheel of his DUCATI turns slowly, squeaking.
A bullet hits the road not far from JACK.
Another bullet hits the wall behind him.
Swiftly, JACK grabs hold of the battered 1970s DUCATI...
98 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, MEDIAVEVAL MAZE- NIGHT 98
JACK rides the classic DUCATI, turning left and right without
hesitation, through archways, down steps, dropping level by
level, cursing in time with his jagged breathing until...
99 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN- NIGHT 99
JACK emerges from the bottom of the town and races away on
the winding road.
Silence. All we can hear are the crickets.
Then the sound of a car.
An AUDI tears past us, following JACK out of town.
100 EXT. ALPINE ROAD- NIGHT 100
JACK is heading for the mountains. He takes the first corner
at 70 MPH.
The AUDI gleams black in the moonlight. Gaining on him.
101 EXT. ANOTHER ANGLE- NIGHT 101
JACK takes the next bend at top speed, his classic 1970
1000cc engine howling.
The AUDI slows, then powers through the bend, accelerating.
102 INT. AUDI- NIGHT 102
The YOUNG MAN puts his foot down.
The SPEEDOMETER climbs.
103 EXT. ALPINE ROAD- NIGHT 103
The AUDI comes up swiftly behind Jack's DUCATI and tries to
JACK dodges the AUDI, swerving from one side of the road to
104 EXT. VIADUCT- NIGHT 104
A soaring concrete bridge spans a plunging alpine valley.
The AUDI overtakes the DUCATI, then swerves left, trying to
crush JACK against the concrete barrier that masks a three
hundred and fifty foot fall.
JACK breaks hard and the AUDI misses him, smashing into the
concrete barrier amidst a shower of sparks and screeching
The AUDI follows the DUCATI into...
105 EXT. ALPINE TUNNEL- NIGHT 105
Long, dark, neon-lit... and blind curved.
The AUDI comes up fast behind the DUCATI.
Jack swerves the DUCATI onto the other side of the road.
The AUDI swerves left and tries to crush JACK into the left-
hand wall of the tunnel.
Suddenly, a CAR comes round the bend.
What happens next happens fast:
JACK swerves left and skids into a SERVICE LAY-BY, narrowly
avoiding the CAR.
The lay-by is small and JACK has to slide the DUCATI on it's
side as he crashes it into the box-like space.
The lay-by is too small for the AUDI.
The AUDI and oncoming CAR collide.
The AUDI's crumple zones buckle as both vehicles' bonnets
concertina like a road safety test.
The AUDI has air bags. The oncoming CAR does not.
On impact, its DRIVER goes through the windscreen of his own
car and onwards, through the windscreen of the AUDI.
The wreckage is awesome.
Deep within the mangled metal of the two cars...
...the YOUNG MAN groans and twitches.
JACK appears at the crumpled window of the AUDI.
He reaches through the broken window, grabs the YOUNG MAN by
...and breaks his neck.
106 EXT. WOODS- DAWN 106
JACK washes away the worst of the dirt and the blood in a
107 EXT. ROAD- DAY 107
JACK on the DUCATI.
Turns off at a sign for L'AQUILA.
108 EXT. L'AQUILA- MORNING 108
L'AQUILA is the nearest and largest town in the region. It's
also the location of the Via Lampedusa brothel.
JACK comes out of a pharmacy and quite literally bumps into
He winces with pain.
You are hurt?
What's wrong with you?
It's nothing really. Just a broken
rib. Un costollo rotta?
Stronzo! Let me help you!
I came off my bike.
But you have to go to the hospital!
No, no, no. I have pain killers. I
just need a strong cup of coffee.
I know a place which make the
strongest coffee in L'Aquila.
Her limpid brown eyes twinkle.
109 INT. CLARA'S APARTMENT- DAY 109
A small, simply furnished bedroom with a bed, a desk and a
As he sips a large cup of strong black coffee, CLARA cleans a
vicious welt on his right shoulder blade.
As the dirt and blood come away she reveals an exquisite
...of a BUTTERFLY.
Ve bene. Tutto posto. Signor
Farfalla. [Good. Everything's OK.
His eyes open wide and he turns to her quickly.
Why d'you call me that?
You have a tattoo. On your back.
But not completely.
110 EXT. CASTELVECCHIO- DAY 110
The situation at the beginning of the movie is perfectly
From the relative safety of CASTELVECCHIO, JACK watches
CASTEL DEL MONTE through binoculars:
-The Phone Box.
-The pensione D'Abruzzo.
No sign of the police. No sign of any Shadow Dwellers.
111 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- SUNSET 111
JACK is in his usual phone box. His manner is quietly
How did he know I was here, Larry?
You think I hired him?
Are you out of your fucking mind,
I doubt it.
After everything I've done for you?
The car, the cell phone (which you
threw away), the safehouse, the
fake passport? Someone has to pay
for this shit, Jack! I have to pay
for this shit. It comes out of my
commission. You're my lousy profit
margin. Why the fuck would I take a
contract out on my own profit
margin? You're not thinking
straight. I was the one who told
you to leave town! I told you to
come to Rome! God damn it you've
got a job to do! Why the Hell would
Something smacks into the phone box at high speed.
JACK drops to his knees and reaches for his WALTHER.
Outside the phone box three TEENAGERS are kicking a FOOTBALL
112 INT. JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 112
TINS of fruit drops: three kinds: black cherry, pineapple and
lemon. Each tin is emptied of its fruit drops.
Twenty rounds of ammunition- each round packed in silica- fit
exactly into each tin.
Lead rounds in the black cherry, jacketed in the pineapple
and explosive in the lemon.
JACK re-seals each tin with sellotape.
113 EXT. L'AQUILA, CORSO FREDERICO II - DAY 113
The colonnades of this popular pedestrain street are crowded
with window shoppers, tourists taking coffee, old men
discussing politics and office girls walking hand in hand and
chattering like songbirds.
JACK is in dark glasses. He's sitting in a coffee shop under
the colonnade sucking a fruit drop and reading a copy of Il
C.U. we see he's studying a small column concerning the
murder of two prostitutes in the nearby city of Chieti.
JACK spots CLARA walking along the corso. She's with a girl
he has not seen before. ANNA. ANNA is small town girl with a
keen sense of fashion. She and CLARA are hand in hand.
CLARA sees JACK and speaks to her friend.
They cross through the throng of boulevardiers.
My friend Anna. This is my friend
CLARA's eyes twinkle mischievously.
The girls cease to hold hands and ANNA offers hers to JACK.
JACK half rises like the perfect gentlemen, folding his
newspaper and accepting ANNA's greeting.
How do you do?
I am very well thank you.
Ah. This is to be an impromptu English lesson. JACK
Will you take a coffee with me?
That would be very good.
He indicates two empty chairs.
CLARA moves her chair to sit closer to JACK. Under the table,
her knee presses against his.
ANNA also moves her chair nearer to JACK: but her motive is
to move it out of the sun. She is not flirting.
Anna is learning English.
Have you been to England?
ANNA seems momentarily confused.
But you are...
She looks at CLARA.
JACK glances at CLARA.
How much has she told her friend?
Ah. I have not been to England only
to France. But I would love to go
The WAITER comes over.
Due cappuccini e un cafe corretto.
Anna is like all Italians. She
thinks America is like in the
movies. Little Italy, "West Side
I tell her in these times America
is like here, there, anywhere. The
streets are not... pave-ed with
She beams happily at JACK. He smiles back at her.
If not with gold, than at least not
with enough medieval cobbles to
loosen every-self tapping screw in
JACK beams. Neither girl understands. But everyone smiles
The WAITER brings the coffee and CLARA insists on paying.
Where do you come from, Anna?
ANNA frowns. JACK plays teacher.
Ah, yes! I live in Via dell'
Argilla. Nearby to Clara.
JACK briefly wonders what else he could teach her. He scans
both girls and decides CLARA is the prettier. CLARA seems to
sense this. She smiles to herself.
JACK is touched.
114 EXT. CORSO FREDERICO II, L'AQUILA- DAY 114
We cut wide and watch JACK talk inconsequentialities with the
girls. They stand to go. JACK rises.
Perhaps we will have a drink
together soon? I am free...
Her words sound rehearsed. She considers a crowded timetable.
Great. I'll see you then.
But Eduardo... Where would you like
Again: rehearsed. JACK is not expecting this. CLARA looks at
him mischievously. ANNA is listening.
How about our usual place?
Our usual place?
She feigns complete perplexity.
I forgot. Where is our usual place?
The twinkle in her eye. She's testing him. JACK is the
Maybe we should try something
Where would you like to try,
A beat. JACK spots a restaurant on the opposite side of the
There is no warmth in his suggestion. But CLARA doesn't care.
Locanda Grapelli! Si!
She looks genuinely delighted.
This is the best food in the area.
You'll be there?
I'll be there.
See you then, Eduardo.
See you then, Clara. It was a
delight to meet you Anna.
Arrivederci, Signor Farfalla.
There is an unmistakable twinkle in ANNA's eye. How much she
knows is uncertain. She kisses him swiftly and softly on the
CLARA does the same on the lips. Behind the mischief in her
eyes is something doubtful. Has she gone too far?
115 EXT. DOWNTOWN L'AQUILA- DAY 115
JACK visits three stores:
-In a PHOTOGRAPHIC SHOP he buys half a dozen FILM PROTECTION
-In a HABERDASHERS he purchases several packets of HOOKS and
EYES like the kind you find on brassieres.
-In a OFFICE SUPPLY SHOP he buys some custom made headed
notepaper, invoice books, notepads, envelopes, metal pens, a
calculator and a mobile phone.
116 INT. JACK'S ROOM- NIGHT 116
JACK opens a black combination lock SAMSONITE BRIEFCASE and
lines the bottom and sides with the lead-lined film
protection bags, cut to fit.
Into the base of the briefcase he glues pre-shaped pieces of
firm grey plastic foam. These form the pockets into which he
slots the constituent parts of the SOCIMI SUBMACHINE GUN.
They fit perfectly.
Over this JACK uses the HOOKS and EYES to clip a false
bottom: a tough card cover onto which are pasted the custom
made headed notepaper, invoice books, notepads and envelopes.
To the briefcase's central divider he adds the metal pens, a
calculator and a mobile phone. He sets the combination to
821. Then shuts and locks the BRIEFCASE.
This done he sits on the bed and stares at the case. With his
work complete, he is struck by a terrible sense of emptiness.
117 EXT. PARCO DELLA RESISTENZA - JUST BEFORE DAWN 117
A small park not far from Castel Del Monte's town square.
It is just after dawn. The pine trees and the poplars are
silent. The sun is not yet up but the day is light. Sparrows
hop about, searching for crumbs.
JACK, ravaged by lack of sleep, wonders about like the demon
of a lost darkness, looking for his hole down to the
He's twenty meters away, his hand raised in half-welcome,
They greet one another and FATHER BENEDETTO falls into slow
step with JACK. The priest walks with his hands behind his
back. JACK with his hands in his pockets.
I walk here to meditate. Once a
week, Wednesday, the farthest one
can travel in the week from the
Sabbath. The trees are like the
Stations of the Cross: by certain
trees I thank God for certain
favours he has granted me, or
certain gifts he has made to me and
all men. For example, here by this
pine, I thank him for the many
friendships I have and ask him to
look after those of my friends who
They reach a Cypress tree and FATHER BENEDETTO bows his head
in prayer. After a while he says:
Some walk here in the cool of
evening. Others come at night.
There is a slight sadness in his voice as he says to himself:
I wonder how many bastards have
been made here?
He gives a small sideways glance at JACK.
Perhaps you'll stay and settle here
What makes you think I'm leaving?
You told me as much when we first
met. Besides, those who seek for
peace seldom find it. They're
always moving on, looking
elsewhere. [A BEAT] And they are
All men are sinners.
Some are greater sinners than
others. And those who seek peace
have much sinning in their history.
I don't seek peace. I never have.
Perhaps. Perhaps I'll stay. The
valley. The villages. The
Forgive me. This is the priest in
me speaking. And the friend. But
you have done much sinning, Signor
Clarke. You still do.
I see a whore. She's young enough
to be my daughter.
I do not refer to the sins of
carnality. But to the deadly
Aren't all sins equal?
We are not discussing theology, my
friend, but you. You like this
town, this valley.
FATHER BENEDETTO (cont'd)
You should like to remain here and
find your peace at last. Yet you
cannot. There is something you
cannot ignore. Some force. Some
JACK is silent.
You want to speak but you dare not.
You know no one sufficiently well
to share your history with them.
You know I am trustworthy yet still
you are cautious.
FATHER BENEDETTO stops, compelling JACK to stop too- and face
What job do you do, Signor? Are you
on the run, as they say?
It's an expression, no?
Everyone's on the run from
Some men watch some of the shadows.
You watch them all.
I've done nothing I didn't have
good cause to do.
Do you wish to tell me?
For what reason?
For your own sake. Perhaps I can
pray for you?
A change of pace.
I make things. Artifacts.
Why do you say that?
You work in metal. You are given
some steel by Fabio, the car
You know a lot about me.
I know only what you do in the
town. People talk to me. I am their
priest and they trust me.
And I should too?
They stare at one another.
JACK wants to confess. He does not know why.
But he doesn't. He does something we're not expecting:
Fabio. The `car doctor'. Was he
conceived here father?
FATHER BENEDETTO is motionless.
Why do you ask me that?
He looks like you. Even more than
he does in the photos you keep of
each other. Where was he conceived,
father? Under one of these trees?
At night? Like all the other
There is a very, very long pause. FATHER BENEDETTO stares up
at JACK with extraordinary intensity.
I do not remember, Signor. It was
twenty-five years ago.
FATHER BENEDETTO walks. JACK follows. A gust of wind makes
dust swirl from the gravel path. The two men do not speak
again until they reach the next set of Cyprus trees.
In the end it is I who confesses to
Expecting me to reciprocate?
Perhaps. For your own good. You
cannot doubt the existence of Hell.
You live in it. It is a place
without love. As for me, I go about
my daily duties because the town
requires it of me. Some know what
you know. Perhaps I have no right
to wear these robes. But I do have
a heart full of a father's love.
Something close to His heart! And
for that I am both grateful and
What do you have, my friend?
Another gust of wind. The priest looks up into JACK's face.
The assassin's eyes are red and stinging. Perhaps its from
118 INT. JACK'S ROOM- EVENING 118
JACK dresses very carefully for dinner.
It is clear he wishes to make a favourable impression upon
119 EXT. LOCANDA GRAPELLI- NIGHT 119
Stone steps lead up from the street to large paved veranda
that overlooks the town. Overhead a canopy of vine and
jasmine. Above that a sky full of stars.
Of the thirty or so candle-lit tables that dot the veranda,
more than half are occupied by romantic couples.
JACK scans the tables and checks his watch. It's shortly
after seven pm and there's no sign of CLARA.
He waits. Then turns to leave.
She kisses him once on the lips. She's hot and flustered.
She's been rushing.
I did not think you would come.
I wasn't sure you meant me to.
CLARA looks doubtful. It's the same look she gave him at the
cafe. She is breaking the golden rule of prostitution.
Getting involved. Her heart is pulling one way and her head
A WAITER approaches.
Judging by his disapproving tone, the WAITER seems to know
what CLARA does for a living. CLARA senses this immediately.
120 EXT. LOCANDA GRAPPELLI- NIGHT 120
CLARA and JACK sit at a table overlooking the town.
The WAITER lights their candle and deposits two menus
Una botiglia di acqua minerale non
gasata et... una Parasini, per
Completely ignoring her, the WAITER addresses JACK with a
Menu in Inglese?
(to the WAITER)
He speaks Italian. So do I. Listen:
She repeats her order, articulating each word emphatically,
like a teacher to a slow school child:
Una botiglia di acqua minerale et
una Parasini, per favore.
She isn't upset. It's just her way of letting both men know
that she's in charge.
The WAITER turns to her, deferring to her strength of
He nods with some genuine deference and leaves.
(mostly to herself)
JACK smiles. CLARA smiles back. They have this contempt in
The WAITER reappears and pours a thumbful of wine. It is pale
red in colour and frizzante. At CLARA's insistence, JACK
tastes it. It is dry and has a tar-like aftertaste.
Parasini. From Calabria. It is
good, you will agree?
It is. Very good.
He looks at her and- for a brief moment- he undergoes what is
a unique experience for him: a positive longing to repeat
this brief moment many times in the future.
CLARA catches the glow of his warmth and blossoms.
Can I ask you something, Eduardo?
You are married?
I doubt any of the couples here
are. With the exception of the
Germans at table seven. She's
wearing a wedding ring and they
haven't spoken a word to each other
for eight and half minutes.
I was sure this was your secret.
What makes you think I have a
secret? I'm an ordinary man. I
cough. I fart. I earn a living.
JACK observes a GYPSY selling roses.
I do not think you are an ordinary
man. I think you are a good man.
But you have a secret.
The GYPSY approaches, offering CLARA a ROSE. She refuses
He thinks we are a couple.
JACK signals to the GYPSY and buys CLARA a ROSE.
Why spoil the illusion?
She looks at him and smiles.
As long as we know it is an
Her smile is only a little bit sad.
Still, JACK doesn't know what to say.
They are saved by the appearance of the WAITER.
Buona sera. Desidera?
CLARA orders, full of Italian charm, putting JACK at his
ease. He watches her contentedly: the way she talks and
121 EXT. CORSO FREDERICO- NIGHT 121
JACK and CLARA are walking. He has a cigarette in his mouth.
They look like film stars. CLARA slips her arm through his.
They say nothing. The pedestrian shopping street is thronging
with other couples.
122 EXT. COFFEE BAR- NIGHT 122
The coffee bar has an outside section. CLARA and L'AMERICANO
are seated in a throng of happy youngsters Clara's age. JACK
is the oldest person there.
The WAITRESS brings two glasses of PROSECCO. She puts a small
silver bowl of raspberry ice cream down in front of JACK. In
front of CLARA she puts down an extravagant ice cream sundae.
CLARA grins at her sundae like a little girl. She's a bit
She eats, savoring the ice cream. JACK watches, savoring her
How is it?
It's- come se dice- `slang', no?
She scoops a spoonful dripping with nuts and chocolate sauce
and holds it out to JACK.
Come on, Eduardo!
He hesitates. He eats.
It is good, you will agree?
(his mouth full)
I will agree.
(sensing his teasing)
My English is nice!
You know how to swear in Italian?
Sure. Bastardo. Imbecile.
"Imbecile?" Eduardo! Try: Mangia
merde e morte: tuo cazzo un
Eat shit and die, pimple dick?
I guess I've led a sheltered life.
Too much work.
CLARA's CELL PHONE starts to ring. It's on silent, but the
screen is flashing, just visible where it sticks out of her
handbag. CLARA looks down at the phone.
Too much work.
She turns the phone to silent. And looks up at JACK.
I don't apologise, Eduardo.
For this I do. My job.
He means it.
Except this job is full of testa di
But you are too young to...
Would you be flattering me if I
wasn't a client?
He's put CLARA on the spot.
Am I a client?
CLARA takes a deep breath.
This say yes.
She points at her head.
She points at her heart.
This cannot be for sale. But I am
not want to... come se dice?
Give it away.
She looks at him.
JACK studies her, searching for his own feelings.
Stronzo! I buy you a present!
She fishes about in her handbag...
...and produces a SILVER BOX.
JACK unwraps the shiny paper. Inside is a plastic case like
the sort you put engagement rings in. Inside the case is a
BADGE, hand-painted, depicting the symbol of the region: the
eagle of L'Aquila. JACK sticks the BADGE in his lapel.
An embarrassed beat.
CLARA kisses him.
My apartment is not far from here.
123 INT. CLARA'S APARTMENT- MORNING 123
JACK opens his eyes.
He's shocked to have slept so deeply.
CLARA must be in the shower.
He looks around at the little room casually, like a curious
Opens the top drawer of the bedside cabinet.
Finds a VIBRATOR.
Opens the bottom drawer.
Finds a RED PURSE.
Inside the RED PURSE...
Finds a BERETTA DOUBLE-ACTION MODEL 21A BOBCAT.
Just at that moment CLARA comes out of the bathroom.
JACK shuts the drawer and pretends to be asleep.
124 EXT.PAY PHONE- DAY 124
JACK has driven to the remotest phone box he can find: not
far from the entrance to one of the region's four national
parks: beside a lake, below a mountain range and approached
by a long, straight, empty road.
No one could possibly creep up on him here. Nevertheless, as
he talks, JACK makes his habitual and continuous 360 scan of
We're moving the drop.
We don't know yet. I'll call you
ten am on the day with a venue.
Give you enough time to make the
I don't deliver, Larry. I never
deliver. It's too dangerous. She
comes to me. I know the town.
That's what we agreed.
I told `em. I told `em if there was
even the slightest chance security
had been breached, you'd have dealt
with it immediately.
Breach? What breach?
For the first time in the movie we cut to LARRY at home:
125 INT. LARRY'S APARTMENT, ROME- DAY 125
LARRY is sitting in a high back leather office chair before a
large, imperial mahogany desk. In front of him are two banks
The first bank displays 3 CCTV views: (1) the entrance to his
apartment block (2) a staircase and (3) the entrance to his
Another bank of screens shows 3 NEWS CHANNELS: (1) CNN, (2)
BBC WORLD and (3) AL JAZEERA.
Our pretty young Belgian client and
her associates think someone on
your long list of enemies might
have put a tail on you.
Course not, Jack. But if, for the
sake of argument, it was possible-
I'm thinking it could be Galazzo.
Or Simenov. Or Italian undercover.
The crooked kind.
How come I'm still here?
The Belgians think they're planning
to wait for the drop and
exterminate you and Mathilde in one
With the help of his DESKTOP computer LARRY is comparing the
scrolling share prices on CNN with the fluctuating value of
the US DOLLAR.
Where the hell's this information
I'm fucked if I know, Jack. If you
want my opinion, they're just being
jittery. I told `em you were the
most security conscious
professional I know. I told `em no
one gets close to you.
126 EXT.PAY PHONE- DAY 126
I told `em if we couldn't trust you
to keep a tight lid on operations
the who could we trust?
They can. They can trust me and so
JACK is tense. Every word is carefully enunciated:
I've never jeopardised an operation
in my life.
You don't have to tell me that,
Jack. For Christ's sake, you closed
your own girlfriend's account...
ECU on JACK.
127 INT. LARRY'S APARTMENT, ROME- DAY 127
The words are out before he can stop them.
Jack? [A BEAT] Jack? I'm sorry.
He rubs his eyes, wearied by his own insensitivity.
That was, um.... I'm just saying
you can be relied on.
128 EXT. PAY PHONE- DAY 128
JACK has hung up.
He is lost in fearful thought, jaw muscles grinding.
129 EXT. CHURCH, ROOF- NIGHT 129
Amongst the GARGOYLES...
...JACK, looking through his miniature binoculars.
Of CLARA seated in a cafe talking to a slick, tough YOUNG
ITALIAN MAN in a suit.
He is showing her photographs. Of what- we cannot see. CLARA
looks very, very serious.
The YOUNG ITALIAN MAN leaves. JACK watches him get into a
smart black ALFA ROMEO containing two other ITALIAN MEN. Rome
When he looks back at the cafe, CLARA has gone.
130 INT. PENSIONE ABRUZZO, JACK'S ROOM- DAY 130
JACK opens his PICNIC HAMPER and in it he puts:
-a polystyrene cool box packed with ice and containing a
chilled bottle of Aspirinio
-a loaf of course bread
-two clods of mozarella
-150 gms of proscuitto
-and his WALTHER PPK/S.
131 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE- DAY 131
CLARA is waiting on the Via Strinella near the entrance to
the Parco della Resistanza, sheltering in the shade of a
She is holding the RED PURSE. At her feet is blue plastic bag
rounded out by a watermelon.
JACK pulls his CAR into the curb.
She opens the passenger door, leans in and kisses JACK long
and full on the lips.
Put them in the back. We've got a
way to go.
She puts the plastic bag in the trunk.
Inside the trunk is the PICNIC HAMPER.
132 INT. CAR- DAY 132
CLARA climbs in and fastens her seat-belt.
She puts the RED PURSE between her legs. JACK glances at the
Where we go?
How far do we go? To Fanale?
An hour. And we're not going to the
sea, we're going to the lakes. In
For a... come se dice... you have
in the back...
A pick-nick! We are going for a
pick-nick. Just the two of us.
She looks at him.
I have practise my English,
Eduardo. I love to have pick-nick.
It is a beautiful day, isn't it?
133 EXT. ALPINE ROAD- DAY 133
The CAR negotiates a familiar hairpin bend.
134 INT. CAR- DAY 134
CLARA is station hopping.
She finds some LOU REED. She loves LOUD REED.
JACK is concentrating on the road.
Is it more far?
Ten kilometres. Another twenty
She pauses to work out the mathematics. She's smart. And
puzzled. But she's not frightened. Not yet.
Twelve kilometres? In twenty
We're going off the beaten track.
She looks confused.
Lontano. Fuori mano.
You will speak Italian. One day, I
will teach you.
135 EXT. ALPINE TRACK- DAY 135
JACK turns off the main road and onto an alpine track.
This is the same route he took with the Belgian woman.
The CAR bumps and tilts on the rough terrain.
136 INT. CAR- CONTINUOUS 136
CLARA is startled by such an insignificant track.
Where are we going?
Now she's anxious. This is not what she expected.
You shall see.
I think it is good we should stay
close to the road.
There's no need to worry. I've been
here before several times. Taking
He swings the wheel suddenly to avoid a large boulder and the
Citroen pitches as if struck by a wave.
CLARA clings to the door with her right hand, her left hand
dug deep into the fabric of the seat to steady herself.
You're not afraid of coming into
the wild with me, are you?
She laughs tensely.
Of course I am not. Not with you.
She snaps her fingers.
She waves her hand in the air.
You should have a jeep. A Toyota.
It is not good for a... berlina.
It's as if the increased danger of the track diminishes her
This is a Citroen!
He strikes the steering wheel hard with the palm of his hand.
This was made by the French for
taking potatoes to market. Besides,
I always come here in this car.
Of course. I don't want to walk
back to town any more than you do.
I think you are crazy. This will go
I assure you it does.
She pouts her reply. The TRACK disappears into a WOOD and
runs out altogether, giving way to grass.
Now there is no road!
JACK stops the car and turns the engines off.
CLARA lets go of the seat.
Is this where we go?
They are surrounded by trees.
No. Not quite. We go another
hundred metres, through the wood.
But from here we just roll forward.
No motor. No sound. And you'll see
She grips the seat again.
You won't need to hold on. I'll go
slowly. Just relax and look.
He eases his foot off the brake and the car begins to move
forward, the springs squeaking slightly. After 50 metres JACK
twists the steering wheel slightly and applies the brakes.
They roll gradually down to the outer edge of the woods and
come to a stop beneath a familiarly squat but ample WALNUT
Beyond them is the LAKE, the MEADOWS and the RUINED HAMLET.
The hidden valley is a riot of colour, the blooms and
blossoms more brilliant than we've ever seen them. By the
edge of the lake stands a HERON, still as fence post.
CLARA gets out of the car, dumbstruck. JACK gets out too. He
watches her... then swiftly checks the ruined hamlet through
his miniature binoculars. Deserted. By the time CLARA turns
towards him, the binoculars are hidden.
No one comes here?
She speaks so quietly JACK can barely hear her.
CLARA turns away, unbuttons her blouse and drops it on the
grass. She is wearing no bra. On her back dapple the shadows
and patches of sun eking through the branches of the walnut.
She kicks off her shoes, which curve through the air... and
unzips her skirt. It falls to the grass. She bends and steps
daintily from her knickers. Then turns to face JACK.
JACK cannot take his eyes off her. Dizzy, he steps forward
without meaning to.
She is coquettish- and tosses her auburn hair to one side.
I am going to swim in the lake. Are
She doesn't wait for his reply, but turns and runs through
the grass towards the water.
There are vipers! Vipera! Marasso!
Maybe! But I am lucky!
The HERON flies off, rising from the reeds with an ungainly
He is an Italian bird! We disturb
Quickly, JACK glances inside the CITROEN.
The RED PURSE is nowhere to be seen.
Come, Signor Farfalla!
JACK undresses. As he removes his clothes, he stalls for
time, using the cover of undressing to search for the RED
We can see it wedged under the passenger seat.
Due to the design of the car, JACK cannot.
JACK turns to face the lake. He is naked. Yet with the
caution of years he does not remove his shoes until he
reaches the water's edge.
CLARA is standing in the middle.
Stand by me.
He obeys her order. He walks out to her and she takes his
hand under the water, holding it out in front of them.
JACK spots it resting on the smooth stone of the lake-bed.
Brassy and gleaming. A SPENT SHELL. He covers it with his
Keep still. Watch.
As the ripples of his arrival peter out in the reeds, TINY
FISH appear in a shoal to gather about their hands. They
hover like slivers of glass just under the surface then move
in to nibble at the skin on their fingers.
If we stay here for a year, they'll
It is said that if these fishes
bite at two hands holding, then
love is good for the people.
He looks at her and for a moment he forgets the awful plan in
She kisses him, pressing herself against him, her skin and
body as pure and warm as the water.
He tries helplessly to pull away.
Maybe we should...
Do you make love in the water?
She places her arms around his neck and raises her feet from
the smooth stones, wrapping her legs around his waist. She
tries to push herself onto him but he resists.
He doesn't know what to say. She looks at him: confused,
He walks towards the bank. She follows. The tiny fish dart
around them for a few moments then flee for the reeds,
travelling with the waves made by their departure.
137 EXT. LAKESIDE- DAY 137
CLARA is lying naked on a blanket.
Beside her is the RED PURSE.
Through sleepy, half-closed eyes she is watching L'AMERICANO.
From her POV, JACK is kneeling behind the open PICNIC HAMPER,
unpacking the food and wine. The LID of the basket obscures
JACK looks at her.
Is this your real name?
Is Clara yours?
She looks at him. Waiting for his reply.
Edward is my real name.
She doesn't believe him.
You are sure you are not married,
About this he's telling the truth.
CLARA reaches for the RED PURSE.
From behind the picnic hamper lid we hear the CLICK of a
CLARA hesitates for a moment.
JACK watches her intently.
She reaches into her purse.
JACK is expressionless.
When CLARA withdraws her right hand she is holding a tube of
JACK watches as she commences smoothing it into her skin,
rubbing it around her breasts, pushing them aside, pressing
them upwards. Then she caresses the lotion into her belly and
down her thighs, bending at the waist as she works it into
Will you put this on my back?
She proffers him the SUNTAN LOTION.
JACK stares at her baking body, transfixed by its terrible
and perfect beauty.
Hidden behind the LID of the picnic hamper...
...his trembling right hand grips tightly to his WALTHER.
A long pause.
Time seems to stop.
ECU on JACK.
Suddenly, CLARA sits up.
Eduardo, what's wrong?
When he speaks his mouth his dry.
When he moves towards her, he is holding nothing in his
He takes the tube of SUNTAN lotion.
Dear Father Benedetto...
And begins to run it into CLARA's back.
I promised myself that I would
write to you- as your friend- to
138 EXT. WOODS- DAY 138
JACK shuts the boot of the car.
He scans the lakeside.
No sign of the picnic.
No sign of CLARA.
Everything I've ever done...
Then he spots something.
On the ground, not far from the car.
He walks over and picks it up.
It's one of CLARA's shoes.
I've done for a reason.
JACK is staring at the SHOE.
I never thought the day would come
when I'd run out of reasons.
Reasons to worry. Reasons to run.
Reasons to pull the trigger.
JACK turns and walks over to the car.
CLARA is in the passenger seat.
Maybe that day's come.
JACK gets into the Citroen.
Or maybe I've just found a reason
And hands CLARA her shoe.
I still don't understand. What's
the point of a gun if it's not
One of the girls borrow it to me
after the second hooker in Chieti
is murdered. With some of the
clients it make me feel safe. I
don't tell the police, of course,
but... Madonna, Eduardo. How they
do to these two women! A police
agente from Rome show me
photographs. They show photographs
to everyone in Via Lampedusa.
CLARA shivers with disgust.
Non capito... how one person hurt
another in this way.
JACK looks lost, like a man drained of all resolution.
Does the gun make you feel safer
You are not a client.
Then why's it in your purse?
CLARA looks unhappy.
I have to work tonight, amore.
JACK looks away.
Maybe this is suicide. Cops often
put the graft on working girls.
Perhaps the girl I told you about,
Clara, has sold me out.
JACK (V.O.) (cont'd)
Maybe she's a cop herself, or maybe
she's a hired gun. Then again,
maybe Clara is who she says she is
and my Belgian clients will take
the gun, shoot me themselves and
keep the money. Always a risk in my
profession. Or perhaps my trusted
colleague in Rome no longer trusts
me. Perhaps even you, Father, with
your connections in Naples...
What will you do?
I guess I'll go to work too.
And after that? Tomorrow and the
I can't stay here forever.
As the words leave his lips he thinks how much he wishes he
It's not that I've given up on
life, Father. Just the way that I
was living it. If you can call it
I want always to stay here.
It's time to go home.
Let me come to your home.
I can't, Clara. One day...
She's upset but decides not to press her demand.
If I had one request, Father, it
would be this. That it's not Clara
who finally pulls the trigger. But
whoever it is...
CLARA kisses him and simply says:
Stay forever here.
...by this time tomorrow I'll be
Fade to black.
139 EXT/INT. CHURCH- DAY 139
A POSTMAN hands the mail to FATHER BENEDETTO.
Ciao Fabio, come stai?
Bene grazie, Padre.
We follow FATHER BENEDETTO inside as he rifles through a
bunch of church circulars. One LETTER catches his eye.
He opens it and starts to read aloud:
Dear Father Benedetto. I promised
myself that I would write to you-
as your friend- to say goodbye...
140 INT. JACK'S ROOM- DAWN 140
JACK stands by the door in a impeccably pressed suit, the
black SAMSONITE BRIEFCASE in his hand.
He surveys his room. All evidence of his existence has been
meticulously tidied away.
FATHER BENEDETTO (V.O.)
Everything I've ever done...
Only thing is left behind:
The book of MEDIEVAL ITALIAN ART & ARCHITECTURE on the
FATHER BENEDETTO (V.O.)
I've done for a reason.
141 EXT. AUTOSTRADA- DAY 141
The sun is shining. The mountains young and sharp and
beautiful. The CAR moves swiftly across the viaduct that
spans a spectacular gorge and plunges into a long tunnel.
142 INT. CAR- CONTINUOUS 142
JACK watches the road. On the long straights he looks
backwards and forwards.
143 EXT. SERVICE STATION- DAY 143
JACK comes off the autostrada on a slip road and pulls into a
forecourt consisting of several rows of Agip and Q8 pumps, a
convenience shop, a repair garage and a cafe.
The car park is not large. JACK parks the Citroen facing the
EXIT. There is a single bar across it but this is raised.
JACK double checks the magazine in his handgun is full and
slips his WALTHER into his jacket pocket.
Stepping out of the car he looks around the car park. It's
only a quarter full and ominously quiet. Somewhere in the
distance we can hear a sound: creak, creak, creak, creak...
JACK takes the BRIEFCASE from the rear seat and walks away.
He makes a show of locking the car but doesn't.
As he approaches the CAFE he passes the GARAGE. We see the
source of the creak, creak, creaking sound: a SIGN for engine
oil, on hinges, revolving slowly in the breeze.
144 INT. AUTOSTRADA CAFE- DAY 144
JACK sits at a table at the back of the cafe. From here he
can see both entrances: the public entrance and the service
entrance and also the door to the bathrooms. Through the
window, he has a good view of the garage forecourt and the
slip road to and from the autostrada.
JACK places the BRIEFCASE on a chair beside him and puts a
PAPER BAG on the table next to the sugar dispenser. He checks
his watch. It is two minutes before noon. He orders an
His nerve-heightened senses take in everything: the sound of
the cicadas, the buzz of the neon strip-lights and the creak,
creak, creak of the engine oil sign outside, endlessly
JACK's eyes flick outside to the forecourt.
We hear the cafe door open.
And in an instant, MATHILDE is at his table.
She is dressed in a tight black skirt, a simple blue blouse
and a dark blue jacket. Her hair is neatly styled, her make-
up immaculate and heavier than we've seen her wear before.
She looks exactly like the kind of woman who might carry a
Hello. I see you have brought it in
from the car with you.
She speaks quietly: her voice low and attractive.
All there, as agreed.
What's in the paper bag?
The WAITRESS comes over with Jack's coffee. MATHILDE orders
another for herself.
Sweets. For your journey.
She opens the bag and takes out one of the TINS.
She can immediately feel that it's heavier than it should be.
I guessed you'd have a sweet tooth.
That is most thoughtful of you.
The polite phrase sounds even more polite with her slight
The WAITRESS returns with the second espresso and MATHILDE
pays for them both.
JACK watches as she stirs her coffee to cool it. She's
I suppose I'll read about this in
the Times or the International
Herald Tribune. Or Il Maessagiero.
For a moment she is pensive.
Yes, I expect so.
She drinks her coffee, holding her cup in mid-air and looking
out the window.
JACK follows her eye-line to check she's not signalling to an
The FORECOURT is still empty.
Creak, creak, creak, creak...
MATHILDE looks at JACK. Her expression is impossible to read.
Perhaps it's tinged with sadness. She drinks the rest of her
I'm just going to the ladies. Wait
She picks up the CASE.
There is nothing JACK can do about this. She has taken him
off guard and grasped the initiative.
All he can do is wait.
145 INT. AUTOSTRADA BATHROOM- CONTINUOUS 145
MATHILDE enters a cubicle, opens the CASE, bypasses the
stationary, lifts the false bottom and checks the SOCIMI
parts are present and correct.
Then she loads a magazine.
146 INT. AUTOSTRADA CAFE- DAY 146
MATHILDE returns from the bathroom.
Shall we go.
Not a question, a command.
JACK is obliged to stand up.
147 EXT. AUTOSTRADA, CAR PARK- DAY 147
MATHILDE walks towards a large FORD.
She is carrying the BRIEFCASE.
JACK has his right hand in his jacket pocket.
You won't need your piece.
The slang word belies her. For an instant she has forgotten
her Belgian accent. She sounds American.
You never know.
She stops beside the FORD.
JACK still has his hands on the Walther.
Everything's just fine.
She definitely sounds American now.
Her RIGHT HAND slips into her pocket.
JACK twists his wrist upwards and thumbs the cocking lever.
She hands JACK an ENVELOPE.
Buy yourself a retirement clock.
Her American accent shows that she's letting her guard down.
Maybe it's designed to make JACK do the same.
How do you know I'm retiring?
She leans forward and kisses him lightly and quickly and on
Have you taken your girl up to the
JACK doesn't answer. His whole body is tense for the bullet
that he knows his coming. Perhaps there is a second person in
...a COACH pulls into the car park.
It stops with a hydraulic hiss and dozens of TEENAGE KIDS
MATHILDE looks both irritated and relieved.
(whispers to JACK)
She gets into the driver's seat of the FORD and swings the
BRIEFCASE into the back.
Goodbye, Mr. Butterfly.
JACK tenses as MATHILDE raises her hand in farewell.
The FORD pulls away and disappears down the slip road onto
JACK watches it go.
Thumbs back the lever on his Walther.
Gets into his Citroen.
And opens the ENVELOPE.
-Just a HUNDRED THOUSAND US DOLLARS.
JACK stares at the money. He isn't supposed to be alive. For
a while he stays put. He shuts his eyes in the sunshine and
listens to the laughter of the teenage kids. To a girl
calling: "Amore!" To the cicadas. To the distant rush of
traffic on the autostrada.
SMASH CUT TO:
148 EXT. AUTOSTRADA- DAY 148
JACK drives fast...
...turning off the highway beneath a sign for L'AQUILA.
149 EXT. L'AQUILA- DAY 149
At the end a small street, JACK parks his car like a true
Runs towards CLARA'S APARTMENT.
And rings the buzzer.
JACK rings again.
Shouts up at her window:
150 EXT. AUTOSTRADA, CAFE- DAY 150
We're at another roadside service station.
LARRY comes out of a Kentucky Fried Chicken.
He climbs into the passenger seat of the FORD.
MATHILDE drives off.
151 INT. FORD- DAY 151
LARRY is dusting bread crumbs off his shirt.
He's about to get his hands dirty and he doesn't like it.
Not only did you not kill him, you
gave him my fucking money?
What else could I do? There were
kids everywhere. Besides he's
He's paranoid. That's why I'm
paying you the GDP of a small
country to get close to him. You
could have got him in the sack. You
should have got him in the car
park. Now you're going to have to
take him out long range!
I prefer it that way.
She is a trained assassin. She respects JACK.
The Socimi is the perfect weapon.
Let's hope his workmanship is up to
He slams a full magazine into the butt of a STERLING
Sweden turned Jack into a
liability. Three stiffs: two
shooters and an innocent civilian.
I can't afford a mistake like that
again. Europol are crooked but they
aren't cheap. Jack's supposed to
make me money. Not run up cleaning
He made short work of the last guy
Never mind Larson. He didn't stand
a chance, not against someone as
paranoid as Jack. The Swede was
only there to take Jack's heat off
you. So don't fuck this up again.
He grabs a TIN of fruit sweets.
Mind if I help myself?
LARRY opens the tin to find it full of AMMUNITION.
He looks around the Ford.
Is there any actual candy in this
152 EXT. AUTOSTRADA- DAY 152
JACK turns off under the sign for CASTEL DEL MONTE.
153 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, CHURCH STEPS- DAY 153
The town square is jam-packed with cars and coaches.
Hundreds of tourists and locals have gathered on the church
steps. There is even a camera crew.
The church doors open and FATHER BENEDETTO steps out to a
Behind him, LOCAL MEN are carrying a larger than life painted
wooden STATUE OF SAINT DOMINIC.
Draped over the saint's shoulder and wrapped around his neck
are around twenty five or thirty live SNAKES- local Viperi-
each one several feet long and as thick as a skinny forearm.
A local BAND strikes up as the STATUE is carried down the
steps, FATHER BENEDETTO leading the strange annual religious
parade around the town square, followed by a group of ALTAR
154 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, STREET- DAY 154
The giant FORD pulls up outside the town's only proper HOTEL.
MATHILDE gets out carrying the SAMSONITE BRIEFCASE.
155 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- DAY 155
JACK is looking for someone. The square is so tightly packed
it's hard to see, let alone move.
Then he spots her.
She's on the other side of the square, standing on the stone
steps beneath a STATUE OF AN EAGLE. Her friend ANNA is beside
her, taking photographs of the parade with a small digital
camera. JACK moves towards CLARA.
ANNA, through her viewfinder, is the first to notice him. She
points JACK out to CLARA. CLARA waves at him. She says
something to ANNA and descends into the crowd. JACK and CLARA
squeeze their way through a sea of bodies towards one another
as we cut to...
156 EXT. HOTEL ROOF- DAY 156
MATHILDE emerges through the fire escape door and walks to
the edge of the roof.
She opens the black SAMSONITE CASE and unpacks the top layer
of office paraphernalia to reveal the disassembled parts of
the SOCIMI SUBMACHINE GUN.
Expertly she assembles the bastardised gun- including
TELESCOPIC SIGHTS and SOUND SUPPRESSOR- slotting a full
magazine into the base of the hand grip, snuggling the butt
to her shoulder and placing her eye beside the rubber cup on
157 EXT. POV FROM TELESCOPIC SIGHTS- DAY 157
In the centre of the CROSS-HAIRS:
JACK and CLARA meet.
She kisses him. It is a long and loving kiss.
The CROSS-HAIRS find the centre of JACK's head.
158 INSERT: 158
MATHILDE'S FINGER... taking up the trigger slack.
159 EXT. TELESCOPIC SIGHTS- DAY 159
-KIDS on their PARENTS' SHOULDERS
...keep blocking our view of JACK.
160 INSERT: 160
The TRIGGER FINGER, hesitating.
161 EXT. TOWN SQUARE- DAY 161
We're right in the midst of the crowd.
JACK and CLARA have to shout at one another above the noise
of the band.
When can I see you?
I have to work tonight.
Their happiness clouds over. But the clouds pass quickly.
You come to my apartment after.
If I asked you would you come away
Come away with you?
Wherever. Then when we're through,
we could come back here. For good.
Unless you have other plans.
She swears in Italian. Obscenities. Then throws herself
around JACK and squeezes him with all her strength. There are
tears in her eyes.
I love you, Signor Eduardo
He looks at her.
162 INSERT: 162
The TRIGGER FINGER squeezes.
The SOCIMI SUBMACHINE fires.
An EXPLOSIVE BULLET travels down the chamber at approximately
360 miles per hour headed straight for JACK's temporal lobe.
Only it never gets there.
The gun jams.
A chamber explosion is a nasty thing. Instead of shooting out
of the barrel, the round explodes in the cannon's chamber.
Hot shrapnel fragments like a land mine, ripping into
MATHILDE's hands, forearms and face...
163 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE, TOWN SQUARE- DAY 163
A loud BANG pulls JACK and CLARA apart. Amidst the noise of
the festival, no one else seems to notice.
JACK looks in the direction of the HOTEL ROOF.
Someone got what was coming to
He turns to her:
Go to your apartment and pack. Wait
`till I get there. Don't answer the
door to anyone but me.
She looks at him.
I trust you.
She wants to, but she doesn't.
Clara. My name is not Eduardo.
My name is Jack.
She looks worried.
You promise you're not married?
I promise. Take this.
He hands her an ENVELOPE. It contains his final instalment.
Look after it. In case.
He wants to say it but he can't bring himself to.
In case this is goodbye.
164 EXT. STREET- DAY 164
LARRY is waiting on the corner of the town square.
He is dialling and re-dialling a number in his mobile phone,
scanning the crowds around him.
In the two seconds it takes the TAXI to pass by, JACK steps
free of a row cars on the other side of the street.
As LARRY comes into view again, JACK sees the STERLING
SUBMACHINE GUN in his hands.
And LARRY sees JACK.
LARRY'S FINGER tightens on the trigger.
L'AMERICANO throws himself to one side.
There is a quick burst of popping explosions: ripping along
the line of parked cars.
JACK is about to fire back at LARRY but LARRY takes cover
behind a TOURIST and fires back another brief burst.
JACK is hit in the shoulder. He drops his gun...
...and retrieves it just as LARRY fires again.
SCREAMS spread through the holiday crowd like a wave of fire
moving down the street and spilling into the town square.
165 EXT. TOWN SQUARE- DAY 165
JACK runs into the square.
LARRY pursues him, firing for a third time.
The buzz of spent rounds and the crack of muzzle fire echo
around the square, bouncing off the walls and confusing the
People start to run in different directions- everyone heading
for the maze of alleys that surround the main square.
ALTAR BOYS scatter. So do the LOCAL MEN carrying the STATUE
OF SAINT DOMINIC. The STATUE tumbles and smashes. Escaping
SNAKES writhe. FATHER BENEDETTO takes cover.
The two LOCAL CARABINIERI in their Land Rover get caught up
in the chaos. Confused, they turn on their SIRENS.
LARRY spots JACK in the crowd and fires a fourth time.
One TOURIST is killed outright, another injured
JACK dives for cover behind the STATUE OF THE EAGLE where he
You're too old for this life, Jack.
LARRY struggles for breath as he reloads.
This is JACK's chance.
You get sentimental then you fuck
Rolling along the steps to the statue of the eagle, JACK
spreads his legs, faces LARRY and fires the customary TWO
PRECISION-ENGINEERED SHOTS that make up a military-style
The first shot hits LARRY in the heart. LARRY is thrown
backwards against a parked car, accidentally altering his arc
of fire as slugs bounce off the steps beside JACK, chips of
marble stinging against his calves.
Again, JACK takes aim.
A beat as his finger tightens on the trigger.
HEADSHOT. Half LARRY'S FACE is wiped out of existence. What's
left of him slides down the parked car onto both knees. His
hand flashes to his mangled throat then drops. He falls
forwards and his STERLING clatters on the cobble stones.
Not even the sound of a siren.
The town square is empty.
Except for FATHER BENEDETTO hiding in the wreckage of the
Jack's WALTHER hangs ominously by his side.
FATHER BENEDETTO stands unsteadily.
Like lightening JACK spins, instinctively raising his WALTHER
and zeroing in on FATHER BENEDETTO. His face is devoid of all
emotion. He is a bloody machine looking at a potential
We hear SIRENS.
Across a slew of dead bodies, JACK keeps the gun pointed at
FATHER BENEDETTO stands stock still, facing JACK.
The SIRENS get louder.
What will you tell them?
FATHER BENEDETTO takes something from inside his Soutane.
And holds it up with a trembling hand.
I will them that the man who wrote
this letter is my friend.
FATHER BENEDETTO smiles sadly.
FATHER BENEDETTO shuts his eyes, muttering a quiet prayer.
The SIRENS get closer.
We hear Carabinieri screeching to a halt and clambering out
of their cars, cocking submachine guns.
When FATHER BENEDETTO opens his eyes again...
...JACK has disappeared.
166 EXT. CASTEL DEL MONTE- DAY 166
Using his meticulous knowledge of the alleyways and lanes
that make up the medieval heart of the town, JACK avoids the
CARABINIERI and, stealing a bicycle, makes it onto the main
road before a road block has been set up.
167 EXT. L'AQUILA, COACH STATION, LEFT LUGGAGE- DAY 167
JACK collects a sports bag from a LOCKER.
168 EXT. L'AQUILA, COACH STATION, BATHROOM- DAY 168
JACK washes the blood from his hands.
169 EXT. L'AQUILA, COACH STATION, MAIN HALL- DAY 169
When he emerges from the bathroom JACK is wearing the clothes
of a fifty year-old American tourist from the mid-West with
glasses and a baseball cap.
He checks the time of next bus to Rome.
Then glances at his watch.
He has thirty minutes.
170 EXT. L'AQUILA, STREET- DAY 170
JACK walks towards Clara's APARTMENT BUILDING.
Two hundred metres up ahead, two OFFICERS of the Guardia di
Finanza wait in an unmarked car.
JACK walks past Clara's APARTMENT BUILDING.
And keeps walking.
171 EXT. L'AQUILA, COACH STATION- DAY 171
The BUS for Rome is barely half-full.
Blending in perfectly with a group of middle aged American
tourists, JACK boards the steps, purchases a ticket and takes
a seat at the rear.
172 EXT. AUTOSTRADA- DAY 172
A long tunnel: one of the longest in Europe.
JACK alone at the back of the BUS.
It seems like night: red stripes, strip lights, shadows.
Vast fans suspended from the ceiling shift the traffic fumes.
A button of light, expanding...
...as we burst into daylight.