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                                 ANGELS & DEMONS
                                   Written by
                                 Akiva Goldsman
                                                                  April, 2008

          INT      PAPAL APARTMENT      DAY
          CLOSE ON an ornate ring.     It's intricately carved with a seal, an
          image of St. Peter casting a net.     The ring is carried on a satin
          pillow through a darkened, regal apartment.     In the distance,
          BELLS ARE TOLLING   -- the slow, solemn tones that announce a death.
          A dozen men in scarlet cassocks, ROMAN CATHOLIC CARDINALS, bend
          down to inspect the ring, nodding in affirmation, part of an
          ancient ritual.
          A younger man (the CAMERLENGO) in a black cassock takes a silver
          knife and scratches the ring's seal twice, once horizontally and
          once vertically, in the sign of the cross.
          Now the ring is placed on a lead block.    The Camerlengo raises a
          silver mallet and SMASHES it down, shattering the ring into a
          thousand tiny pieces.
          As the Cardinals confirm to their satisfaction that the ring has
          been destroyed, the HUSHED VOICE of a NEWS REPORTER comes over the
                            -- the Ring of the Fisherman, which
                            bears the official papal seal and by
                            Vatican law must be destroyed
                            immediately following the Pope's
          the Cardinals file out in a solemn procession. Behind them, the
          Camerlengo closes and locks the doors to the apartment entrance,
          helped by an AIDE who stretches red silk across the doors in the
          form of an X.
                                           REPORTER (O.S.)
                            The Pope's Chamberlain, or
                            "Camerlengo," then seals the papal
                            apartments ---
          At the juncture point of the doors, the Camerlengo places a glob
          of hot wax, then raises a seal and BURNS it into the wax with a
          hot SIZZLE.    TWO SWISS GUARDSMEN, traditionally attired, step in
          front of the doors, their eight-foot swords held in a low cross.
                                           REPORTER (O.S.) (cont'd)
                            --- and Swiss Guard will remain posted
                            outside the doors for at least nine
                            days of mourning, a period known as
                            tempe sede vacante, or ---
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA         DAY
          In St. Peter's Basilica, we move in toward an empty chair, a chair
          so magnificent it can only be called a throne.
                                           REPORTER (O.S.)
                            --- "the time of the empty throne."
          A ring appears around the empty throne and --
                                                                   DISSOLVE TO:
          INT      CERN - DETECTOR ROOM          DAY
          -- a ring as ornate in its way as the Ring of the Fisherman, except
          this one is a mass of technological sophistication.    It's twenty-
          five feet across, covered with wires, sensors, gizmos.    It's the
          centerpiece of a massive laboratory the size of a football field.
          SCIENTISTS and TECHNICIANS read off checklists in a variety of
          languages, none of them English so far.    The place is a hive of
          activity and sound; cooling water WHOOSHES through pipes, the
          static HUM of high levels of current floats in the air.
          VITTORIA VETRA, an intense woman in her mid-thirties with the long
          stride of an impatient person, makes her way across the floor to
          PHILLIPE, the project manager, a Frenchman around fifty.    She
          follows him as he climbs down a scaffolding that surrounds the
          detector wheel and heads toward a console across the room.
                                 (in Italian, subtitled)
                            Somebody pulled us off the grid,
                                 (responds in French,
                                  also subtitled)
                            You hit 36kV down there yesterday.
                            The whole synchrotron only loads 18.
                                 (switching to French)
                            And the LEAR's specked up to 42. It's
                            all approved by the Director, you want
                            me to call him?
          Reluctantly, Phillipe sits down at a console and starts entering
          commands, shaking his head.
                             Waste of power, what're you
                             extracting, still ten to the seventh
                             APs a second?    How long to produce
                             a gram at that rate?
                             About two billion years.     At that
          He looks at her sideways, didn't like the sound of that.    He
          hits a few last keystrokes and a series of flashing lights
          reconnect what looks like a lower laboratory complex to the main
          grid.    She nods her thanks and starts to go.
                                  (switching to soft
                             Please don't blow us all to heaven.
          And on the word "heaven," everything goes white and --
                                                                    DISSOLVES TO:
          INT      ST.    PETER'S BASILICA          DAY
          --- a veil of thin white silk billows down over the face of the
          dead pontiff. TWO VATICAN FUNEREAL WORKERS pull a second veil over
          his face, then another over his head and hands.
          A burled cypress lid slides over the top of the coffin, which is
          carried out of frame and into ---
          EXT     ST.    PETER'S SQUARE           DAY
          --- St. Peter's Square, packed with THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND MOURNERS,
          including kings, queens, presidents, and prime ministers.
                                           REPORTER (O.S.)
                             Following the elegy Mass, the body of
                             the pontiff, borne by the traditional
                             twelve pall bearers will be sealed in
                             a zinc crypt deep in the Vatican
                             Grottoes along with the bodies of
                             twenty-five other popes.
          The PROCESSION OF CARDINALS is a ribbon of red making its way
          through the kaleidoscope of colors of the assembled religious
          dignitaries.    On the brilliant array of colors ---
                                                                         CUT TO:
          INT      CERN - DETECTOR ROOM          DAY
          --- another array of colors, this one like the best fireworks
          display you've ever seen.     Pulling back, we realize it's on one
          of the giant monitor screens in the detector room at CERN, all of
          which are lit up with similar arrays.
          Something has happened and there's an enormous amount of
          excitement in the room.    More Scientists and Technicians pour
          in, take their seats at consoles, CONFER excitedly.    A
          computerized voice speaks English over a loudspeaker:
                                          VOICE (O.S.)
                            Beam on beam collisions are active.
          It repeats the message in Italian, German, French, and Chinese.
          INT      CERN TUNNEL      DAY
          Elevator doors open in a subterranean tunnel and Vittoria steps
          out.    A long tube, about four feet across, runs off into the
          distance, and as Vittoria heads off in the other direction, we see
          that the tunnel, and its cylinder, go on forever that way too.
          TWO MORE TECHNICIANS hurry down the tunnel and jump into the
          elevator she just vacated.
          Vittoria steps up to a security panel and places her chin in a
          cup.    A vertical laser sweeps across her eyeball and we --
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA         DAY
          --- an ancient carved incense holder that swings back and forth at
          the end of a chain, swung by a PRIEST in St. Peter's Basilica. A
          THOUSAND FAITHFUL are gathered for ---
                            --- the Pope's elegy Mass, led by
                            Cardinal Saverio Mortati, Dean of the
                            College of Cardinals ---
          At the front, CARDINAL MORTATI stands behind a massive altar, arms
          outstretched, praying in Latin for the assembled luminaries.
          As he performs the service, intoning in a dead language --
          INT      ANTIMATTER LAB      DAY
          --- Vittoria steps through an airlock and emerges in a gleaming
          white underground lab.     Everything, everywhere, is white.
          There are a dozen columns of polished steel about three feet tall,
          each of which supports a transparent canister the size of a tennis
          ball can.    They appear empty.
          LEONARDO BENTIVOGLIO, sixtyish, black pants and a short-sleeve
          black shirt, is at work at a command console in the center of the
          room.    (They speak to each other in Italian, subtitled.)
                             Power should be back five by five.
                             It is, extraction's already started.
          He turns around, and we thought his black pants and shirt looked
          familiar -- now we see his Roman collar and realize this physicist
          is also a priest.
                                           LEONARDO (cont'd)
                             We're in God's hands now.
          While Leonardo and Vittoria work at the console, we move slowly
          across the room toward those strange vertical pillars.
          INT       ST.   PETER'S BASILICA        DAY
          In St. Peter's, we're in a complimentary move, down the aisle past
          the College of Cardinals, one hundred sixty-five aging men in
          brilliant red robes, seated near the altar.
                                            REPORTER (O.S.)
                             The College of Cardinals will lock
                             itself in the Sistine Chapel for
                             Conclave literally, the word means
                             "with key" -- the process by which
                             the Church chooses a new leader for
                             the world's one billion Catholics.
          We move onto the altar, close enough to Mortati to get a good look
          at him.    He's in his late seventies, grave, eyes closed in
          religious fervor as he consecrates the communion host.
          INT      ANTIMATTER LAB       DAY
          In the lab, we're still moving, close to one of the pillars and to
          the transparent tube on top of it.    The tube isn't empty, as we
          first thought, there's something suspended in the middle of it, a
          drop, round and white, floating in mid-air.
          INT      ST.    PETER'S BASILICA        DAY
          Mortati reaches the religious climax of the ceremony and holds
          aloft the round white communion host.
          A THOUSAND VOICES begin singing in St. Peter's, we go in close on
          the host and dissolve to ---
          INT      ANTIMATTER LAB       DAY
          --- that otherworldly drop, also round and white, a perfect match
          for the host, but so different, hovering in the tube like a hot
          blob of mercury, defying gravity.
          Everything abruptly goes black and a title bleeds on screen:
                                    ANGELS AND DEMONS
                                                                      CUT TO:
          The bottom of a swimming pool.    A lithe figure SLASHES like a
          knife through the water, doing laps.
          The swimmer is the only one in the pool, but still pushes like
          he's got someone to beat.    His strokes echo off vacant bleachers
          in an oldish college natatorium.
          As he reaches the end of the pool, he sees a murky figure through
          the water.    The swimmer stops, pulls off his goggles.
          ROBERT LANGDON is fiftyish, but looks ten years younger, must have
          something to do with two hundred laps at dawn every day.
          CLAUDIO VINCENZO is heavier, dressed in a sport jacket and slacks,
          looks exhausted.    He speaks with an Italian accent.
                            Professor Langdon?
                            Swim might help your jet lag.
                            I beg your pardon?
          Langdon gets out and pulls a towel off a nearby bench.
                            Bags under your eyes, up at five a.m.,
                            Italian accent... Do I hear Naples in
                            those Rs?
                                 (smiles, shows an ID)
                            Claudio Vincenzo, Corpo della
                            Gendarmeria Vaticano.
                            Vatican Police?    I was expecting
                            another letter.
                                 (Vincenzo looks confused)
                            My request for access to the Archives?
          Vincenzo has no idea what he's talking about.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Shouldn't you be in Rome?   Busy time
                            for you guys.
                            In fact I was in New York, on
                            vacation.    I got a call in the
                            middle of the night --- find Robert
                            Langdon. A matter of great urgency.
                            Urgent Vatican business, involving me?
                            I doubt that.
          He heads for the locker room.        Vincenzo calls after him.
                            They said to show you this.
          Langdon turns back. Vincenzo's holding a single sheet of paper in
          his right hand. Langdon, curious, makes his way back to him.
          Takes the paper ---
          --- and, it is safe to say, feels the earth give way beneath his
          feet.     He looks up, eyes wide, and mutters a single word:
                                                                           CUT TO:
          As the sun comes up, Langdon and Vincenzo leave the natatorium.
                            Yes, of course, but it couldn't be
                            the llluminati as we knew them, they
                            disappeared a hundred years ago.
                           Did they?     Look at the paper.
                           I've seen it.
                           Look again.
          Vincenzo looks at it. The word llluminati is written in ornate
          script.    Vincenzo looks back up --- so?
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Turn it upside down.
          Vincenzo does. Incredibly, the word reads exactly the same way
          upside down.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           It's called an ambigram, the same
                           backwards and forwards. That's common
                           in a symbol, like a Jewish star, or
                           yin-yang, or a swastika, but this is a
                           word. People have searched for the
                           llluminati ambigrammatic symbol for
                           four centuries, modern symbologists
                           even tried to create it, but nobody
                           could pull it off, not even by
                           computer. Most had concluded it was a
                           myth. I wrote a book about it.
                           Which is why you're here, isn't it?
                           "The Art of the llluminati," by Robert
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     LANGDON'S APARTMENT          DAY
          A hand skims along a bookcase and stops at that very title, a
          heavy academic tome.    Langdon pulls it out and drops it on the
          desk in his apartment with a THUD.
          (The apartment is cluttered with esoterica, the home of a man
          whose taste in furnishings was very fashionable about four hundred
          years ago.    A single man -- no kid stuff, no cats.)
          Langdon flips the book open to an illustrated section in the
          middle, filled with renderings of previous attempts to create the
          symbol he now holds in his hand.
          Incredible.    Either someone just
          figured out how to make this, or they
          found it.    Recently.    Which would
          mean the llluminati have returned.
               (looks at Vincenzo)
          An ancient brotherhood, enemies of the
          church, surfacing just after the death
          of a Pope?    I'd pull you off
          vacation too.
          It's worse than just that.    Four
          cardinals were kidnapped from their
          quarters inside the Vatican some time
          between three and five a.m. this
          morning. Shortly afterward, the Office
          of the Swiss Guard received that
          document, along with the threat that
          the Cardinals will be publicly
          executed, one per hour, starting at
          seven p.m. tonight, in Rome.
               (mind racing ahead)
          Was to begin today.    We have
          postponed its start for a few hours, a
          story of illness, there are no
          suspicions. Yet.
          What do you want from me?
          The perpetrators of this heinous act
          sent that -- ambigram, you say? -- as a
          provocation, a taunt.     But it may
          also be their undoing.     If you can
          help us learn their identity, perhaps
          we can stop them.
          Why me?
          Your expertise.    Your erudition. And
          your involvement with recent Church --
          shall we say "mysteries?"
                            I wasn't under the impression that
                            episode had endeared me to the
                            Oh, it didn't.     But it made you --
                            what is the word?
                                 (Italian pronunciation)
                            Formidable.     Formidable.    A plane
                            is standing by twenty minutes from
                            here. Will you come with me?
          Langdon doesn't move, just stares at the ambigram, still amazed.
                                           VINCENZO (cont'd)
                            Professor Langdon, you have spent ten
                            years of your academic life searching
                            for the very symbol you now hold in
                            your hand.     And the madman who
                            created it, or who knows the secrets
                            of its origin-- that person is in Rome.
                                 (checks his watch)
                            How much longer must we pretend you
                            have not already decided to come?
                                                                      CUT TO:
          EXT     AIRPORT       DAY
          A small private plane SCREAMS into the sky.
          EXT     ROME      DAY
          We soar over Rome, the Eternal City. A helicopter WHOOSHES into
          frame below us.
          INT      HELICOPTER         DAY
          The papal helicopter is plush inside, and nearly silent. A very
          pricey piece of equipment.    Vincenzo stares out the window.
                            If the llluminati have returned and
                            are in Rome, we will hunt them down
                            and kill them.
          Langdon, seated across from him, stifles a laugh.
                            Spoken like a Roman Catholic.
          Vincenzo looks at him sharply.
                                           LANGDON (cont'd)
                            The llluminati didn't become violent
                            anti-Papists until the 17th century.
                            Initially, they were physicists,
                            mathematicians, astronomers.      Their
                            name means "the Enlightened Ones." In
                            the 1500s, they started meeting
                            secretly to share their concerns about
                            the church's inaccurate teachings.
                            They were dedicated to the quest for
                            scientific truth.     And for that, the
                            church -- to use your words -- hunted
                            them down and killed them.      Drove
                            them underground.
          Langdon turns and looks out the front window of the helicopter as,
          up ahead, the marble facade of St. Peter's Basilica blazes like
          fire in the afternoon sun.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Into a secret society.
          EXT     ST.   PETER'S SQUARE         DAY
          Pulling away from the helicopter, we see a coat of arms emblazoned
          on its side -- two skeleton keys crossing a shield and papal crown.
          The helicopter SWOOPS over St. Peter's Square, filled with more
          tourists than usual, due to the impending start of Conclave.
          We drift toward a structure on the far side of the Square, closer
          to its huge, ornate windows.    As we approach, large swaths of
          black drop down, draping over the windows, closing off our view.
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL        DAY
          Inside, WORKERS continue to drape large bolts of black velvet over
          the windows, sealing this room off from outside.    Pulling back,
          we realize it's not just any room ---
          --- it's the Sistine Chapel.   As the last window is blackened,
          the room is bathed in a profound darkness lit only by candles.
          ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-ONE MEN in red robes are gathered inside the
          Chapel, the College of Cardinals.    They talk in a polyglot of
          languages, milling about the place, conferring, catching up on old
          Cardinal Mortati, the Dean of the College who led the Pope's elegy
          mass, is the type of man one crosses a room to see, not the other
          way around.
          He chats in Italian with two other Cardinals, until a black-
          cassocked aide (FATHER SIMEON) outside the open doors of the
          Chapel catches his eye.    Mortati excuses himself, steps through
          the open doorway, and into ---
          INT      SALON      DAY
          -- the salon just outside the Chapel.    Father Simeon is an unctuous
          man in his fifties with eyes that are always looking for whoever's
          behind you.    (They speak in Italian, subtitled.)
                                          FR. SIMEON
                            Commandante Rocher assures me the
                            Guard is doing everything humanly
                            possible to find the prefiriti.
                            A very long way for him to say very
                                          FR. SIMEON
                            What if you were to begin in their
                            They are the four leading candidates.
                            If they're not present, they're not
                            eligible.    There will be no
                            consensus without them, wid are we to
                            vote for?
          Father Simeon gives him a look -- perhaps you?
                                          MORTATI (cont'd)
                            It is as much a sin to offer flattery
                            to accept it.
                                          FR. SIMEON
                                 (chastened, but not
                            The Camerlengo asks how long you can
                            postpone the opening prayer without
                            making another announcement to the
                            Two years and three months.
                                 (Simeon looks confused)
                            The conclave of 1316?
                                 (never mind)
                                         MORTATI (cont'd)
                           Tell the Camerlengo the Cardinal
                           Electors will take every minute
                           required to perform their sacred
                           trust.    No further announcements are
                                         FR. SIMEON
                           He's be concerned about the public
                           dimension.    People will think-
                                (cutting him off)
                           What we tell them to think.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          EXT    VATICAN - STREET       DAY
          On the ground now and behind Vatican walls, Langdon and Vincenzo
          walk briskly around a corner and are met by ERNESTO OLIVETTI, a
          solidly-built man in his late thirties.
                           Professor Langdon, welcome to Vatican
                           City.    Ernesto Olivetti, Inspector
                           Generale of the Vatican Police Force.
          He takes Langdon by the arm and gestures down a narrow passageway.
                                         OLIVETTI (cont'd)
                           This way, please, we'll meet in the
                           headquarters of the Swiss Guard.
                           I assumed you were Swiss Guard.
                           No. The Gendarmerie is responsible
                           for everything inside the Vatican
                           walls, with the exception of the
                           security of His Holiness and the
                           Apostolic Palace.   That is Swiss
                           Guard.    The Commandante Generale of
                           the Roman Carbinieri has joined us as
                           well, in an advisory capacity, and
                           the Guarda Nacionale have sent a
                           So jurisdictionally, this is-
                           A God damn nightmare.
          They turn a corner and approach a squat stone building labeled
          "Offizia della Guarda Suiza."
          TWO SWISS GUARDSMEN are standing outside the entrance to the
          building.    They're somewhat comically dressed in puffy tunics
          vertically striped in brilliant blue and gold, with matching
          pantaloons and spats, topped by a black beret.
          Langdon can't completely hide a smile.    Olivetti notices.    The
          Guards raise their eight-foot swords, allowing the three of them
          to enter the building.
          The interior of the Swiss Guard offices is ornate and filled with
          artwork, like every other Vatican building.    As they walk,
          Langdon studies the row of statues of male nudes that lines both
          sides of the hallway, all wearing fig leaves.
                           The Great Castration.
                           I beg your pardon?
                           1857. Pius IX felt the male form might
                           inspire lust, so he got a hammer and
                           chisel and unmanned two hundred
                           statues.    These plaster fig leaves
                           were added later.
          Olivetti stops abruptly, outside a heavy steel door with a
          security keyguard beside it.
                           Are you anti-Catholic, Professor
                           Me?   No, I'm anti-vandalism.
                           I urge you to guard your tone in there.
                           The Swiss Guard is a calling, not a
                           profession, and it encourages a certain
                           -- zealotry.   Commander Rocher, the
                           head of the Guard, is a deeply
                           spiritual man, and he was close to the
                           late Pope.    Understood?
                           I just hope I can help.
                           So do I.     You were my idea.
          He enters a five-digit number on the keypad and the steel doors
          slide open.
          The headquarters of the Swiss Guard is in a lushly adorned
          Renaissance library crammed with sophisticated communications and
          surveillance equipment.    It's crowded, Swiss Guard (in suits and
          ties, the pantaloons are more for show), uniformed Carbinieri, and
          Vatican Police crammed around different stations, some working
          together, others arguing, mostly in Italian.
                           Wait here.
          He crosses the room to a tall, fair-haired man around sixty,
          weathered like steel -- maybe "tempered" is the better word.
          While they confer, Langdon notices a woman to his left.    We
          recognize Vittoria Vetra, the physicist we saw at CERN.
          She catches Langdon's eye, forces a grim smile, recognizes they're
          both strangers here.    Olivetti comes back with COMMANDER ROCHER,
          the tall man, very much in charge.    He speaks with a French/Swiss
                                (to Vittoria)
                           Ms. Vetra?    I'm Commander Rocher,
                           Commandante Principale of the Swiss
                           Guard.    Thank you for coming.     And
                           Professor Langdon?
                           That's right. Rocher looks him up and
                           down, so, you're Langdon.
                           Thank God, the symbologist is here.
                           Ms. Vetra, this way, please.
          He leads Vittoria across the room, to a surveillance monitor.
          Langdon, puzzled by the cold shoulder, looks at Olivetti, who
          leans in.
                           There's been a development.    We
                           received another threat from the
          Across the room, they hear Vittoria GASP.   Olivetti goes to join
          them, nodding to Langdon to follow.
          AT THE MONITOR,
          Langdon and Olivetti join Rocher and Vittoria and stare at the
          image on a video monitor -- it's a familiar-looking canister, in
          which a metallic drop of liquid shimmers in the middle, suspended.
          The acronym CERN is stenciled up its side.     On its base is an
          LED display, counting down from about six hours.
          At the top of the monitor flashes superimposed text -- LIVE FEED,
          CAMERA #86.
                            -- canister was stolen from our lab
                            around midnight last night.     The
                            intruder killed my research partner,
                            Leonardo Bentivoglio, and mutilated
                            him in order to bypass security.
          They look at her, don't quite see the connection.
                                          VITTORIA (cont'd)
                            We use retinal scanners.
                                 (they still don't get it)
                            They cut out his eyes.
          They cringe.
                                          VITTORIA (cont'd)
                            That canister contains an extremely
                            combustible substance called
                            antimatter.    We need to locate it
                            immediately or evacuate Vatican City.
                            I'm quite familiar with incendiaries,
                            Ms. Vetra.    I haven't heard of
                            It's new, energy research technology.
                            It uses a reverse polarity vacuum to
                            filter out anti-matter positrons
                            generated in particle accelerations in
                            the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.
          They look at her blankly.    She points at the screen,
                                         VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           The anti-matter is suspended, there,
                           in an airtight nanocomposite shell
                           with electromagnets at each end. But
                           if it were to fall out of suspension
                           and come into contact with matter --
                           say, the bottom of the canister -- the
                           two opposing forces will annihilate
                           one another. Violently.
                           And what might cause it to fall out of
                           The battery going dead.     Which it
                                 (looks at the screen)
                           In six hours and eleven minutes.
          Silence for a moment.
                                         VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           Where is that camera?   Number eighty-
                           It's wireless.     It too was stolen.
                           That could be anywhere inside the
                           Vatican walls.
                           You've got to find it.
                           We're a bit preoccupied with four
                           missing cardinals at the moment.
                           You don't understand.    An
                           annihilation is a cataclysmic event.
                           It would be a blinding explosion,
                           equivalent to about five megatons.
                           The blast radius alone would be --
          Softly, Langdon speaks up from behind her.
                           "Vatican City will be consumed by
          A few voices fall still.   They turn and look at him.
                           Those are the exact words the
                           kidnapper used.
          INT     ROCHER'S OFFICE       DAY
          A few moments later, they're crowded around the communications
          console at Rocher's desk, where a dimly-lit video recording is
          playing back on a computer screen.    (The office is behind a
          glass wall to one side of the headquarters.)
          The images on the recording are of FOUR OLDER MEN, some in their
          sixties, the others in their seventies, filmed in dim light behind
          bars in a dank, dungeon-like space.
          A lightly accented VOICE speaks from behind the camera.
                                         VOICE (O.S.)
                           We will destroy your four pillars...
                           brand your preferiti and sacrifice
                           them on the altars of science... and
                           then bring your church down upon you.
                           Vatican City will be consumed by
                           It's an ancient llluminati threat.
                                 (Rocher pauses the recording)
                           The destruction of Vatican City
                           through light.     The four pillars --
                           he probably means the kidnapped
                           cardinals.     You didn't mention they
                           were the preferiti.
                                 (to Vittoria)
                           The favorites to be chosen as the new
                           Pope.     Play it again.
                                         VOICE (O.S.)
                           We will destroy your four pillars...
                           brand your preferiti and sacrifice
                           them on the altars of science...
                           Stop it there.
          Rocher does
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           "Brand" them, another llluminati
                           legend, this one says there are a set
                           of five brands, each one an ambigram.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           The first four are the fundamental
                           elements of science -- earth, air,
                           fire, water.    The fifth -- is a
                           mystery.    Maybe it's this.
          He pulls the "llluminati" ambigram from his pocket.
                           He said they'd be killed publicly. In
                                (nods, not surprised)
                           Revenge for La Purga.
                           La Purga?
                           Don't you guys read your own history?
                           1668.     The church kidnapped four
                           llluminati scientists and branded
                           their chests with the symbol of the
                           cross.     To "purge their sins."
                           Murdered them and left their bodies in
                           the street as a warning to others to
                           stop questioning church rulings on
                           scientific matters.     It was after La
                           Purga that a darker, more violent
                           llluminati emerged.     This sounds
                           like retribution.
                                 (to Rocher)
                           Is there any more?
          Rocher hits play again.
                                         VOICE (O.S.)
                           .... and then bring your church down
                           upon you.    Vatican City will be
                           consumed by light...
          While listening this time, Langdon notices a darkened video
          monitor, inlaid at an angle on Rocher's desk.    It faces away
          from the outer office, and instead of an on/off switch, there is
          an oddly-shaped keyhole.
                                         VOICE (O.S.) (cont'd)
                           A shining star at the end of the Path
                           of Illumination.
          Langdon looks up sharply.
                           The Path of Illumination?
          Rocher stops the video.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           I need to get into the Vatican
          Rocher shakes his head, looks at Olivetti harshly, is embarrassed.
                           Professor, this is not the appropriate
                           moment to-
                           Your petition has been denied seven
                           times, Mr. Langdon.
                           This has nothing to do with that,
                           The Path of Illumination is an ancient
                           trail through Rome that leads to the
                           Church of the Illumination, a secret
                           place where llluminati members could
                           meet in safety.    If I can find the
                           Segno, the sign that marks the start
                           of the Path, I'm willing to bet the
                           four churches along it are where he
                           intends to murder your cardinals. If
                           we can get to one of them before he
                           does, we can stop it.    But to find
                           the start of the path, I need to get
                           into the Archives.
                           Even if I wanted to help you, access
                           is only by written decree of the
                           curator and the Board of Vatican
                           Or by papal mandate.
                           Yes.    But as you've no doubt heard,
                           the Holy Father is-
                           What about Il Camerlengo?   Let me
                           talk to him.
                           The Camerlengo? He's just a priest
                           here, the former Pope's Chamberlain.
                           Doesn't the power of the Holy See rest
                           with him during tempe sede vacante?
          They just stare at him. Shit, this guy's good. Langdon checks his
          watch, getting irritated.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Hey, fellas --- you called me.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     PAPAL OFFICES      DAY
          A spectacular view of St. Peter's Square, through the windows of
          the Papal offices.    Moving down, we find a figure dressed in a
          simple black cassock, his back to us, staring out at the crowd.
          FATHER SEBASTIAN GUTTIEREZ, the Camerlengo, speaks with a soft
          Spanish accent.
                           His Holiness once told me that a Pope
                           is a man torn between two worlds...
                           the real world and the divine.
          Assembled in the grand office are Langdon, Rocher, Olivetti, and
          Vittoria.    The Camerlengo's back is still turned.
                                         CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                           He warned that any church that ignored
                           reality would not survive to enjoy the
          He turns around.    He's younger than we thought, in his mid-
          thirties, deep, dark eyes.    The kind of priest who often
          inspires, before the years of dogma catch up with him.
                                         CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                           It seems the real world is upon us
                                (to Langdon)
                           I'm familiar with llluminati lore, and
                           the legend of the brandings.    La
                           Purga is a dark stain on the church's
                           history; I'm not surprised this ghost
                           has come back to haunt us.
          He sits behind the massive desk, and if he seemed young before, he
          seems like a child now, overcome by the position he's in.    But
          when he speaks to Rocher, he's in command.
                                          CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                            Commandante, have you begun a search
                            for this explosive device?
                            Of course, but it could be anywhere,
                            and the safety of the cardinals is my
                            primary concern at the moment.
                            The Sistine Chapel is a fortress, as
                            long as the cardinals are in conclave,
                            your security concerns are at a
                            minimum.    Devote as much of your
                            resources as possible to a search for-
                            Signore, if you're about to suggest
                            we make a naked-eye search of all of
                            Vatican City, I must-
                            Commander.    Though I am not His
                            Holiness, when you address me, you are
                            addressing this office.    Do you
                            Yes, Padre,
                            Good.    Now -- you said the image on
                            screen was illuminated by artificial
                            light.    May I suggest methodically
                            cutting the power to various sections
                            of the City.     When the image on your
                            screen goes dark, you'll have a more
                            specific idea of the device's
          Rocher looks at Olivetti -- gotta admit, that's a pretty damn good
                                          CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                            Ms. Vetra.    Besides yourself and
                            your research partner, who knew about
                            your antimatter project?
                            Only the director of CERN.    But
                            Leonardo kept detailed journals; if he
                            told anyone else about what we were
                            doing, he would have made a note of
                            Do you have these journals?
                            I can have them flown here from Geneva
                            in an hour.
          He pauses, thinking, then turns the phone on his desk to face her.
          While she picks it up to dial, the Camerlengo comes around his
          desk to speak privately to Langdon.
                            Mr. Langdon.    You're correct that I
                            may grant you access to the Archives.
                            Thank you, Padre.
                            I said you're correct that I may, not
                            that I will.     Christianity's most
                            sacred codices are in that archive.
                            Given your recent entanglement with
                            the church -- I need to ask you a
                            question first.
          Langdon looks at him -- fire away.
                                          CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                            Do you believe in God, sir?
                            Father, I simply believe that
                            religions can often-
                            I didn't ask if you believe what man
                            says about God, I asked if you believe
                            in God.
                            I'm an academic. My mind tells me I
                            will never understand God.
                            And your heart?
                            Tells me I'm not meant to.
          The Camerlengo looks at him -- that's not quite good enough.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            I believe that faith is a gift, which
                            I have not been fortunate enough to
          The Camerlengo looks at him for a long moment. Pretty damn good
          answer.    He puts a hand on Langdon's shoulder and leans in.
                            Be delicate with our treasures.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          EXT     APOSTOLIC PALACE       DAY
          The back doors of the Apostolic Palace BANG open and Langdon is
          ushered out (fast) by Olivetti, the head of the Vatican Police.
                            The archives are this way.
          They turn down a narrow passageway. A VOICE calls from behind
                                          VITTORIA (O.S.)
                            Professor Langdon!
          Vittoria catches up to them.
                                          VITTORIA (cont'd)
                            If this path really leads to the
                            Church of Illumination, that may be
                            where they've hidden the antimatter.
                            "A shining star at the end of the
                            Path."    My thoughts exactly.
                                 (to Vittoria)
                            If we find this bomb, can you
                            deactivate it?
                           No, but I can change its battery, as
                           long as it has more than five minutes
                           of life.    That would give us another
                           twenty-four hours to get it back to
          Olivetti nods to her, come on along. They walk again, holds a hand
          out to Langdon.
                                         VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           Vittoria Vetra. Are you really a
                           symbologist, or was he mocking you?
                           Both.    You're a physicist?
                           Bio-entanglement physics.
                           Interconnectivity of life systems.
                           What are we looking for in the
                           A little book written by Galileo.
                           Galileo was llluminati?
                           And a devout Catholic.     He thought
                           science and religion weren't enemies,
                           but two different languages telling
                           the same story.     He wanted like
                           minds to be able to find the Church of
                           Illumination, but he couldn't exactly
                           advertise its location, so he created
                           a coded path.     An unknown llluminati
                           master sculpted four statues, each a
                           tribute to one of the four fundamental
                           elements -- earth, air, fire, water --
                           and put them out in public, in
                           churches throughout Rome.     Each
                           statue held a clue, pointing to the
                           next. And at the end of the trail was
                           the Church of Illumination.
          Vicenzo, leading them, turns up Via Sentinel and starts up the
          hill toward the Archives. They follow, quickly.
                           What makes you think he's going to
                           murder the cardinals in the churches?
                           The llluminati called those four
                           churches by a special name -- L'Altare
                           di scienza.    The altars of science.
                                (making the
                           "Sacrifice them on the altars of
                           science," he said.
          Langdon stops in his tracks.
                           Oh.   Oh, wow.
          He's staring up at the impressive facade of the Vatican Archives.
          He takes a deep breath, then steps forward to enter.    But
          Vincenzo doesn't follow.    Langdon looks at him.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           We go in alone?
                           Vatican Police aren't allowed access
                           to the archives, only Swiss Guard. Lt.
                           Chartrand will meet you inside. I'll
                           be here when you're done.
          Langdon turns back to the Archives with a look of deep contentment
          -- he's wanted in here for a long, long time.
          And steps through the double doors.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     APOSTOLIC PALACE        DAY
          The Camerlengo walks briskly through the hallways of the Apostolic
          Palace, deep in thought.    He reaches the top of the Royal
          Staircase, and can hear the RUMBLING of activity in the Sistine
          Chapel below.
          Looking down the stairs, he sees the doorway open, and the
          gathering of cardinals inside.    As he reaches the base of the
          stairs, Cardinal Mortati, who has been summoned, steps outside to
          meet him, flanked by his aide, Father Simeon.
          Vincenzo, leading them, turns up Via Sentinel and starts up the
          hill toward the Archives.    They follow, quickly.
          They speak in English, their common language.
                           You've been informed of the new
                           May God's mercy be upon us.
                           And the other cardinals?
                           Await your word.
          The Camerlengo thinks, feels the weight of this decision on his
          young shoulders.
                           May I ask your guidance, Padre?
                           My belief is we should proceed with
                           the sealing of conclave.
                           At this hour?        That would be highly
                           And yet within church law.    It's in
                           my power, I've been chosen Great
                           The cruelest honor in Christendom.
                           The only ambitions I have are for my
                           church.    St. Peter's church, which
                           is under attack at its most vulnerable
                           moment.    This is not a coincidence.
                           Is it possible our enemies hope to
                           distract us from our sacred task?
                           The church will not fall in a day. We
                           may be wise to consider evacuation.
                           That is exactly what they want,
                           publicity and panic.    We must not
                           give them oxygen for the media fire.
                           What of the safety of the cardinals?
                           Surely there is not an elector present
                           who values his physical being more
                           than the unbroken leadership of the
                           Holy See.
                           And the people in St. Peter's Square?
                           They care as deeply about their church
                           as we do.    Their faith will sustain
                           But if their faith does not protect
                           them from an explosion?
                           We're all bound for heaven eventually,
                           are we not?
                           Spoken like one who has enjoyed the
                           blessings of a long and full life.
          Mortati bristles at the thinly-veiled insult.
                           Signore, do not confuse the power of
                           the office you temporarily hold with
                           your true place here in the Vatican.
                           You were a favorite of His Holiness,
                           but His Holiness is with his Father
                           Mea culpa.
          Satisfied, Mortati looks back over his shoulder, at the anxious
          faces in the Chapel.    Then turns back to the Camerlengo.
                           Seal the doors.
          With a heavy THUD, the huge doors close and bolts SLAM into place.
          An ancient key GRINDS in an ornate lock, two heavy chains RATTLE
          into place, FOUR SWISS GUARD take position in front of the doors
          and at that very moment --
          INT      VATICAN ARCHIVES      DAY
          -- two huge, modern glass doors WHOOSH open, revealing what looks
          like a 23rd century library.     It's a massive underground space,
          like a darkened airplane hangar, with a dozen glass boxes evenly
          spaced throughout.     They're lit up from within, each containing
          row upon row of bookshelves, neatly filled with books, papers, and
          LT. CHARTRAND, a twenty-five year old member of the Swiss Guard
          (in a suit and earpiece, not the traditional garb), leads Langdon
          and Vittoria toward the glass enclosures.
                                 (Swiss accent)
                            The chambers are hermetic vaults,
                            oxygen is kept at lowest possible
                            levels.    It's a partial vacuum
                            inside. More than ten minutes in the
                            vault is not recommended without
                            breathing apparatus.
          He stops at one particular chamber and gestures to the sign on its
          door -- "Il Processo Galileano."
                                          CHARTRAND (cont'd)
                            I'll be just outside the door.
          Langdon starts toward the entrance to the vault, but Chartrand
          puts a hand on his chest, stopping him.
                                          CHARTRAND (cont'd)
                            Watching you, Mr. Langdon.
          Langdon looks at him.    He's not popular around here.
          INT      GALILEO VAULT      DAY
          The electronic revolving door spins and admits Langdon to the
          interior of the vault. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets
          it out.
          Vittoria follows shortly behind him, and she's unprepared -- the
          lack of oxygen hits her hard, she dizzies.
                           Take a moment.     If you feel double
                           vision, double over.
                                (bends over)
                           Feels like I'm... scuba diving... with
                           the wrong mixture.
                           Plenty of time.
          He checks his watch.   It's 7:07.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Uh... actually, I take that back.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     A DARK SPACE       DAY
          In a dark space, a tea bag bobs delicately up and down in a cup of
          hot water.    An elegant man in his forties, dressed in a casual
          suit, no tie, HUMS softly to himself as he steeps his tea.    No
          idea of his name, but his suit is gray, so how about MR. GRAY.
          The tea is on an old wooden table, being heated by a small can of
          sterno.    While Mr. Gray bobs the tea bag, he stares at something
          to his right.
          Money.    A lot of it, in a number of different denominations,
          neatly segmented in a briefcase.    And three passports, all
          different colors (and nationalities), neatly placed on top of it.
          Satisfied, Mr. Gray CLICKS the briefcase shut and slides it under
          the table, tucking it up against the wall.    He removes the cup
          from the heat, still bobbing the tea bag.
          He walks, lit by candlelight that throws harsh shadows on strange
          walls.    He heads down a very dark hallway, past a row of
          stonewalled cells, and within each is the dimly lit figure of the
          older men we saw on the videotape earlier -- the kidnapped
          He stops at the last cell, where the man, CARDINAL LAMASSE, looks
          up at him from the wooden bench he's sitting on.
                                         MR. GRAY
                           You have no idea what you're missing.
                           Conclave will go on without us.    The
                           voice of God will not be silenced.
                                          MR. GRAY
                            I was referring to my tea.    Last
                            chance, I'd be happy to make you a
                            May God forgive you for what you've
                                           MR. GRAY
                            Father, if God has issues they won't
                            be with what I've done --
                                  (seems genuinely saddened)
                            -- but with what I'm about to do.
          A MOMENT LATER,
          Mr. Gray's hand takes the burning tin of sterno and tosses it into
          a fireplace, where the liquid fire consumes a pile of dry
          kindling.    He picks up something else and places it in the heart
          of the flames.
          A long-handled iron rod.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          INT     VATICAN ARCHIVES       DAY
          Inside the archive, Vittoria is searching the lower shelves while
          Langdon, on a ladder, digs through folio bins higher up.
                            -- confiscated from the Netherlands by
                            the Vatican shortly after Galileo's
                            death.     I've been petitioning to see
                            it for almost ten years.     Ever since
                            I realized what was in it.
                            What makes you so sure the Segno is
                                 (while searching)
                            The number 503.    I kept seeing it over
                            and over in llluminati letters, scribbled
                            in the margins, or sometimes just signed
                            that way, "503."      It's a numerical
                            clue, but to what?     Five, of course, is
                            the sacred llluminati number -- the
                            pentagram, Pythagoras, a dozen other
                            examples in science -- but why three?
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            It made no sense. And then I thought --
                            what if it were a Roman numeral?
                            D3.   Galileo's third text.
                                 (ticking them off)
                            Dialogo.    Discorsi.
          His eyes light up as he pulls a slender volume out of a folio bin
          on one of the top shelves.
                                               LANGDON (cont'd)
          A MOMENT LATER,
          Langdon, now wearing white cotton gloves, sets the tiny manuscript
          on a viewing stand.
                            Diagramma della Verita.        The Diagram
                            of Truth.
                            I know about Dialogo and Discorsi --
                            Galileo laid out his theories about
                            the earth revolving around the sun,
                            and the church forced him to recant.
                            But what was this?
                            This is where he got the word out. The
                            truth, not what the Vatican forced him
                            to write.    Smuggled out of Rome and
                            printed in Holland on sedge papyrus.
                            That way any scientists caught with a
                            copy could simply drop it in water and
                            the booklet would dissolve.
          Carefully, he turns the first page.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Between its delicate nature and the
                            Vatican burnings, it's said this is
                            the only copy that remains.
                                 (turns the second page)
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                           And if I'm right the Segno should be
                           hidden --
                                 (and the third)
                           -- on page number --
                                 (and the fourth)
                           -- five.
          He stops.   They study the page,
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Latin.    Can you --- ?
                           A bit.
          She reaches for the book, to pull it towards her, but Langdon
          SLAPS her hand.    He holds up his own, glove
                           Finger acids.
          She rolls her eyes and leans in, studying the page.     There are
          sketches on the page as well.
                           Movement of the planets... elliptical
                           orbits... heliocentricity...
          Langdon's nervous. This doesn't sound right. Vittoria turns the
          page, turns it back.
                                         VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           I'm sorry, I don't think there's
                           anything that could be interpreted
                           as a-
                           Do that again.
          She turns the page, then turns it back.    Noticing something in
          the deep crevice of the margin as the page moves, Langdon grabs a
          magnifying glass on the end of a long pole and swings it over.
          There, in the print gutter, what looked like a smudge is revealed
          under the magnifier to be --
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           A line of text.    In English.
                            English?    Why English?
                            No one spoke it at the Vatican.    It
                            was considered polluted.    Too free-
                            thinking, the language of radicals
                            like Shakespeare and Chaucer.
          He rotates the book.
                                              LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Another line.
          He keeps rotating the book, finds two more tiny lines written at
          the very edges, barely visible to the naked eye.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            "The path of light is laid, the sacred
                            test..."    I need a pen, we have to
                            transcribe this.
                            Sorry, Professor.    No time.
          Before Langdon can do anything to stop her, she RIPS the page from
          the text and shoves it in her pocket.
          Langdon's jaw drops.    He shoots a look over his shoulder at Lt.
          Chartrand, but the man's back is turned.
                            Ah, what the hell.
          He SNAPS the magnifying glass off the end of its pole.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          The doors SLAM on a Vatican police car and the tires SQUEAL as
          Olivetti hits the gas.
          INT     CAR DAY
          Olivetti is behind the wheel, Vittoria's in front, Langdon leans
          in from the back seat.
                            Twenty minutes till eight, where are
                            we headed?
                           I'll know in a minute, give me the
          Vittoria pulls the page from the Diagramma out of her pocket and
          hands it to Langdon.    He pulls the magnifier from his coat and
          studies the thin paper, turning it in his hands.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           From Santi's earthly tomb with demon's
                           Where did you get that paper?!
                           'Cross Rome the mystic elements
                           We borrowed it.
                           The path of light is laid, the sacred
                           Are you insane?!
                           Let angels guide you on your earthly
                           You removed a document from the
                           Vatican Archives?!
                           Huh?    Oh, um -- well, she moved so
                           The first marker sounds like it's at
                           Santi's tomb.
                           Sounds like.
                           But who is Santi?
                            Raphael?     The sculptor?
                            Santi was his last name.
                            So the path starts at Raphael's tomb!
                                    (not entirely
                            Raphael is buried at the Pantheon.
                            Is the Pantheon even a church?
                                 (snatching up the
                            Oldest Catholic church in Rome!
          Langdon has fallen silent, but it all makes perfect sense, so he
          says nothing as Olivetti cranks the wheel hard --
          EXT     ROME - STREET        DAY
          -- the car fishtails into a 180, and they take off in the opposite
          direction, headed for the Pantheon.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          EXT    PANTHEON - SIDE STREET             DAY
          The police car pulls to a stop, as quietly as possible, across an
          open plaza from the Pantheon.
          Two black Alfa-Romeos with   tinted windows glide to a stop on
          either side of them.    As   Langdon and the others get out,
          Commander Rocher and THREE   MORE SWISS GUARD, all in black suits,
          surround them. Rocher goes   straight to Langdon, highly skeptical.
                            I've just pulled a dozen of my best
                            men from Vatican City during conclave
                            and left the search for the antimatter
                            device in the hands of secondary
                            officers.    You'd better be right.
                           I believe I am.
                           The Pantheon is one of the busiest
                           tourist spots in Rome, how could he
                           hope to get away with it?    It's
                           As impossible as kidnapping four
                           cardinals from Vatican City?    The
                           poem is precise.
          Olivetti catches eyes with Langdon, who's still clutching the page
          pulled from the Diagramma. He slips it quietly into his jacket
                           The poem.    Unbelievable.    I'm
                           basing this operation on an American's
                           interpretation of a four hundred year
                           old poem.
                           The information we have clearly refers
                           to Raphael's tomb, and Raphael's tomb
                           is inside that building.
          She points to the Pantheon, its edifice shimmering in the early
          evening light.
                           The Pantheon is your one chance to
                           catch this guy.
                           One?    I thought you said four.    A
                           pathway, four markers.    We'll have
                           four chances to catch him.
                           You would have, a hundred years ago.
                           The Vatican had all the pagan statues
                           in the Pantheon removed and destroyed
                           in the late 1800s.    Whatever marker
                           was there to lead us to the next
                           church is gone now.    The path is
                           dead.    This is your chance.
          Rocher looks at him for a long moment, then turns abruptly to a
                           Separate approaches.     Cars to Piazza
                           della Rotunda, Via degli Orfani,
                           Piazza Sant'Ignazio, and
                           Sant1Eustachio.    No closer than two
                           blocks, no uniforms, three minutes.
          The Officer salutes and they snap into action.
                                         ROCHER (cont'd)
                           And I need a set of eyes inside.
          Two BEEFY GUARDSMEN in black suits step forward.
                           Wait a minute, you'll scare him off.
                           They're not in uniform.
                           I'm sorry, two weightlifters in
                           matching black suits and earpieces,
                           they're hardly disguised.
                           There's no time to get undercover men
                           Fine.    I'll go.
                           I'm not sending a wom-
          Her arched eyebrow stops his sentence in its tracks.
                                          ROCHER (cont'd)
                           -- a civilian into this situation. You
                           have no communications and you can't
                           carry a walkie-talkie, it's too
                           Tourists have cell phones, don't they?
                                (pulls out her own and
                                 holds it to her ear)
                           Hi honey, I'm at the Pantheon, you
                           should see this place!
          Rocher seems to be thinking about it.           Langdon looks at her, his
          protective instincts aroused.
                           You can't send her in there alone.
                           I don't intend to.
          CLOSE ON a pair of hands, linked.    Vittoria and Langdon, holding
          hands like lovers, walk slowly toward the entrance to the
          Pantheon. A COUPLE DOZEN TOURISTS, blissfully unaware, mill about
          the square while up on the rooftops, SNIPERS have them in view.
          Langdon looks around, this wasn't what he had in mind.          Vittoria
          glances at him, amused.
                           You're crushing my hand.
                           I'm sorry.
                           A nervous newlywed?
                           Ancient newlywed.
                           Try harder.
          He puts an arm around her waist, feels a lump in her back.
                           You really know how to use that gun
                           gave you?
                           I can tag a breaching porpoise from
                           forty meters off the bow of a rocking
                           Thought you said you were a physicist,
                           I am.     Long story.
                           Make it short.
                             Can't be done.         What time is it?
          Langdon raises his hand and checks his watch.
                             Seven minutes to eight.
                                  (of the watch)
                             Was that Mickey Mouse?
                             Long story.
                             Make it short.
                             Can't be done.
          And with that they step through the entrance and into --
          INT     PANTHEON       DAY
          -- the Pantheon, a massive, circular room with a 141-foot
          unsupported span even larger than the cupola of St. Peter's. There
          are a DOZEN TOURISTS scattered around, and a TOUR GROUP on one
          side hearing a lecture from a MUSEUM DOCENT.
          Langdon looks up at the hole in the ceiling through which a bright
          shaft of light is shining.
                             The oculus. That could be the
                             "demon's hole" in the poem.
          Looking around, Vittoria sees several sarcophagi scattered around
          the room, all pointing obliquely in a certain direction. As they
          move stealthily through the crowd, they speak in low tones:
                             Why are the tombs at an angle?
                             To face east.          Sun worship.
                             But this is a Christian church.
                            New religions often adopt existing
                            holidays to make conversion less
                            shocking. December 25th was the pagan
                            holiday of the Unconquered Sun. Made
                            it a handy choice for Christ's
                            You're saying Christianity is
                            repackaged sun worship?
                            Where do you think halos came from?
                            Not just sun worship though, the
                            Catholics borrowed Communion from the
                            Aztecs, canonization from Euphemerus,
                            the cruciform from the Egyptians ---
                            No wonder they don't like you around
                            Just trying to keep the conversation
                            Check the recesses.    I'll go left.
                            See you in a hundred eighty degrees.
          He starts to the left, she goes to the right, walking in the
          shadowy recesses behind the pillars at the edges of the room.
          Langdon walks slowly, checking out faces.       Tourists.   Couples.
          Teenagers.    More tourists.
          Around every column, there are shadows, and in those shadows --
          --- nothing.
          He looks at his watch.    Five minutes to eight.       And then --
          --- a SHRIEK from the other side of the room.      He whirls, sees
          Vittoria backing away from something.
                                              LANGDON (cont'd)
          He races across the room, reaches her at the far side. Her face is
          ashen.    She's pointing at something, aghast.
                           Raphael's tomb!    But --
          Langdon rushes forward to the crypt. There doesn't seem to be
          anything out of the ordinary, except ---
                                          VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           --- it's the wrong one!
                           What are you talking about?!
          He leans down, looks at the plaque on it.
                           He was moved here, in 1759. A century
                           after Diagramma was published!
                           That's not possible, the poem said-
                           Where was he originally buried?
                           I don't know... Urbino, I think...
                                (thinking like crazy)
                           Santi's earthly tomb... what else
                           could it possibly... Santi 's tomb...
          His eyes flit around the room, from one ornate sarcophagus to
          another.    And then it hits him:
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Damn it!    "Santi's tomb" must mean
                           one of the chapels he built!    He's
                           not buried in it, he designed it! Rich
                           people commissioned burial chapels in
                           churches all over Rome in his day!
                                (looks up)
                           And the "demon's hole," it isn't the
                           oculus, it's an undercroft, a crypt,
                           common sixteenth century term!
          At that very moment, the tour group is passing them, and the
          elderly Docent asks his group the perfunctory wrap-up:
                           Does anyone have any questions?
          Langdon busts in on the group.
                           Yes!    Did Raphael Santi ever design
                           a chapel with an ossuary annex and
                           angel figure commissioned by the
                           Catholic Church?!
          The Docent blinks.    Wasn't expecting quite so esoteric a
                                              LANGDON (cont'd)
                           I'm sorry, I... I can only think of
          Langdon suppresses the urge to grab him by the lapels and shake it
          out of him.
                           One'll do.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          EXT    PANTHEON DAY
          A clock in the square outside the Pantheon says 7:56.    Langdon
          and Vittoria face Rocher, Olivetti, and half a dozen Swiss Guard.
                           Wrong?   What do you mean, wrong?!
                           The first altar of science is the
                           Chigi Chapel, in the church of Santa
                           Maria del Popolo, about a mile from
                           here!     It used to be called Capella
                           della Terra, Chapel of the Earth.
                           Earth, the first element!     This is
                           it, I'm certain.
                           You were certain of the Pantheon.
                           Please, we have four minutes!
          Rocher looks at Langdon with contempt, then BARKS orders to his
          men in Italian.    They begin to head for their cars.
                           Back to the Vatican?!        You can't!
                           Commandante, if you care at all about
                           your church-
                           My church?   My church feeds the
                           hungry, comforts the sick and dying.
                           What does your church do, Professor?
                                (no answer)
                           Ah, that's right, you haven't one.
          He turns and walks away, glaring at Olivetti.
                                         ROCHER (cont'd)
                           Take him if you want, but I'm done
                           with him.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          EXT    PIAZZA DEL POPOLO      DAY
          Olivetti's car SCREECHES to a halt in the Piazza del Popolo at
          sunset.    Langdon, Vittoria, Olivetti, and Vincenzo, the Vatican
          cop who first came to see Langdon, all climb out, start scanning
          the square.
                           This is the place.
          He points to an obelisk in the center of the square.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           An obelisk, with a pyramid at the top.
                           Both Masonic symbols.
                           The Freemasons?   Are Illuminati?
                           The Illuminati were infiltrators.
                           There isn't a powerful organization on
                           earth they didn't place members in.
                           Look at a dollar bill some time. A
                           pyramid, an occult symbol representing
                           convergence upward, with the eye of
                           illumination above it, and beneath it
                           the Latin for "New World Order."
                            The United States government was
                            infiltrated by Illuminati?
                            FDR's vice-president was a high-
                            ranking Freemason.    Convinced him
                            the words in Latin actually meant "New
          A church bell begins to TOLL.
                            Eight o'clock!
          Langdon takes off running, toward and eleventh-century church at
          the southwest corner of the plaza, covered in scaffolding.
          At the front door of the church,
          Langdon hops over the sawhorses blocking the entrance and tries
          the door.    Locked.    A sign says the place is under
          At a side door,
          Olivetti races alongside the church, followed by the others.
          He reaches a door with a large, heavy ring, and pulls it toward
          him. But the door won t budge.    He pushes, throws his shoulder
          into it.    Locked.
                            No, no, it's an annulus!
          But Olivetti just races onward, looking for another door, followed
          by Vincenzo.    As they disappear around the back of the church,
          Langdon steps up to the large ring, gives it an almighty twist --
          INT       SANTA MARIA DEL POPOLO            DUSK
          -- and the heavy door CLUNKS open.
          The interior of the church is an obstacle course of torn-up
          flooring, brick pallets, mounds of dirt.    Silt drifts in the
          dying sunlight that shines through the broken windows and walls.
          Nothing moves.    Dead silence.    Langdon and Vittoria walk
          slowly to the middle of the floor, at one end of the chapel.
          There are eight recesses, four on either side of a central aisle,
          all covered with large sheets of plastic, to protect them during
                            The chapel is in one of those apses.
          The plastic RUSTLES ominously.       Anything could be behind any one
          of them.
          Vittoria pulls the gun from her waistband and holds it in front of
          her.    Langdon notices, it makes him uncomfortable.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            You have to give that back.
          She looks at him --- what are you, nuts? Something rushes at them
          from the side, she whirls --
          --- and nearly blows Olivetti to kingdom come as he and Vincenzo
          barrel in through the side door.
          Langdon gestures --- everybody quiet. Olivetti points to the left
          gestures to Langdon and Vittoria to go to the right.
          They separate, to either side of the main aisle.
          Langdon pulls the plastic aside, eyes scan the chapel.      Nothing.
          ON THE OTHER SIDE,
          Olivetti does the same, at another chapel.      Nothing.
          Vittoria pushes the plastic aside, gun in front of her.      There's
          a sudden movement to her left, she whirls --
          --- and a rat scurries away.
          Langdon pushes the plastic aside, steps inside --
          -- and GASPS.
          Moving behind him, we see a Christian chapel like no other we've
          ever seen.    Finished entirely in chestnut marble, overhead it
          has a domed cupola with a field of illuminated stars and the seven
          planets (as known in Galileo's day).
          Further down the wall, there are tributes to earth's four seasons
          but most incredible of all are the two huge structures that
          dominate the room from either side.
          Pyramids.    Ten feet high.
          Vittoria steps in behind him.
                            Pyramids.      In a Catholic church.
                            This is it.
          Behind them, the plastic rustles, as if drawn by a wind, and as
          Langdon turns, he hears, faintly, a DOOR CLOSING far away.
          He turns back, eyes drawn to the floor.    There is a large oval
          medallion there, with a skeleton carved into it.    It's slightly
          off center, raised.    As if it's been opened recently, and
          hurriedly replaced.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            The demon's hole.
          IN THE DEMON'S HOLE,
          we're looking up now as the medallion GRINDS to the side.     Faces
          peer down at us -- Langdon, Vittoria, Olivetti, and Vincenzo. They
          recoil from a stench.
          UP TOP,
          Langdon squints, trying to see inside.
                            Anybody got a flashlight?
          Vincenzo hands him one.    Langdon shines it down into the crypt.
          There are shapes, but thirty feet down and hard to make out.
          There's one in particular, in the darkness, seems too short to be
          a person, but it's moving slightly.
                            Can you tell what it is?
                            Not from up here.
          He reaches down, rattles the ladder that leans against the wall of
          the crypt.    Takes a deep breath, looks at the others.
                                                LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Those guns.          Keep 'em handy?
          IN THE DEMON'S HOLE,
          Langdon reaches the bottom, still shining the light at the figure
          in the distance.    It's brighter here, he can see it's flesh-
          colored, but still indistinct.    He takes a step toward it --
          -- and something CRUNCHES under his feet.
          He shines the light down.    He's standing on a pile of human skulls
                                 (calling down)
                            You okay?
                            More or less.
          He takes two more steps, closer to the swaying figure on the other
          side of the crypt.    He can now clearly see a man's naked back.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            He's here!    I think he's -- sitting.
                                 (moves closer)
                                 (closer still)
                            Are you all right?
          It's a human figure.     As Langdon draws close, he sees the source
          of the movement --- rats, gnawing at the dead body.
          They scurry away as Langdon comes around the front, and we pull
          back to see what he sees.
          It's Cardinal Lamasse.
          He's been buried in the earthen floor of the crypt up to his waist
          his jaw broken, his mouth crammed full of dirt.
          But that's not the worst of it.    Langdon GAGS as he sees the
          blackened word that has been branded into the red flesh of the
          Cardinal's chest.    It's an ambigram, like we've seen before, but
          this time it says --
                                                                      CUT TO:
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL      DAY
          Cardinal Mortati sits regally at the main altar at the front of
          the Sistine Chapel as the electors, one by one, cast their votes
          in the traditional manner.
          An AFRICAN CARDINAL at the front of the line kneels before him.
                                          AFRICAN CARDINAL
                            I call as my witness Christ the Lord,
                            who will be my judge that my vote is
                            given to the one who before God I
                            think should be elected.
          The African Cardinal stands, holds his ballot over his head, t
          lowers the ballot to the altar, where a plate sits atop a large
          He places the ballot on the plate, then picks up the plate and
          uses it to drop the ballot in the chalice.    He then replaces the
          plate over the chalice, bows to the cross, and heads for his seat.
          The next cardinal steps up to repeat the process.
          and the line is gone.    Mortati holds the chalice with all the
          votes.    He shakes it, chooses one---
                            Eligo in summum pontificem --
          -- and reads an unfamiliar name.
          He makes a note in a ledger, then raises a threaded needle and
          pierces the ballot through the word "Eligo," sliding the ballot on
          the thread.
          and there are a hundred and sixty-one ballots on the thread,
          Mortati looks up from his ledger and speaks to the room.
                            The first ballot has failed.
          He takes He thread carrying all the ballots and ties the ends
          together to create a ring.
          He lays the ring of ballots on a silver tray.     Dusts the tray
          heavily with a yellowish powder.
          A DOOR OPENS
          on a small incinerator. The ring of ballots is hurled inside and
          bursts immediately into flame.
          A dark, brackish smoke billows up from the burning ballots, and we
          follow the smoke up, up, into the chimney --
          EXT     ST.   PETER'S SQUARE         DUSK
          --- and to the roof of the Sistine Chapel, where the black iUPke
          puffs out into the early evening sky.
          Below, a CROWD OF THOUSANDS GROANS in disappointment as the
          message is sent --- no new pope yet.
          But while they are all watching the smoke, we turn our attention?
          to the opposite direction, to the east, across Rome, to where ---
                                                                        CUT TO:
          EXT     PIAZZA DEL POPOLO        DUSK
          --- those black Alfa Romeos, four this time, glide silently to a
          halt outside the church where Langdon just found the corpse. Swiss
          Guard in black suits pour out of the vehicles and hurry into the
          church, trying to attract as little attention as possible.
          INT     SANTA MARIA DEL POPOLO          DUSK
          The inside of the church is being sealed off as a crime scene.
          Rocher, just arriving, takes charge as the plastic is RIPPED off
          the Chigi Chapel.
                            Get that body out of there and search
                            the rest of the building.
          Swiss Guardsmen drop into the demon's hole to remove the body.
                                           ROCHER (cont'd)
                                 (to another Guardsman)
                            Outside -- a perimeter.    Secure but
                            invisible.     No lights, no guns, no
                            one knows.     Understood?
          Langdon, lost in thought, drifts through the small chapel, studying
          the intricate carvings and other artwork.
                            Earthly symbology... everywhere...
          Rocher passes through his field of vision, livid:
                            Why the hell didn't you figure this
                            out in the first place?
          It was more a rhetorical question, but Langdon answers honestly,
          still lost in thought, his voice soft.
                           I made a mistake.
          He drifts toward a statue, of the highest quality white marble,
          resting in a niche on the far side, out of the way of the mayhem.
          Vittoria joins him.
                           Is it Raphael?
                           The chapel is.     But the sculptures
                           are Bernini.
                           The unknown Illuminati master was
                           Didn't he work for the Church?
                           Almost exclusively.    It means the
                           Illuminati even infiltrated the
                           Vatican.    They hid in plain sight.
          He steps closer to the statue.    It's of two life-size human
          figures, intertwined, one a regal, bearded man, the other a
          cherub, floating overhead.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Habakkuk and the Angel.
                           The prophet who predicted the
                           annihilation of the earth.    This is
                           the first marker.
          He steps closer, studying it carefully.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           "Let angels guide you on your lofty
          His eyes move slowly over the statue, and ours do too, from the
          angel's innocent face, down his arm, and to his right hand, which
          is outstretched, one finger extended --
          -- pointing the way.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            The Path is alive.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          EXT     PIAZZA DEL POPOLO        DUSK
          Langdon dashes down the stairs outside the church and into the
          middle of the piazza.    It's getting dark now, shadows streaking
          the square.
                            Southwest...   it points southwest...
          He gets his bearings, looks to the southwest, sees nothing but
          buildings in the way.
          He runs back up the church steps, where Vittoria and Rocher are
          just coming outside.    Langdon's mind is racing.
                                           LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Earth-air-fire-water, we're looking
                            for a Bernini sculpture having
                            something to do with air...
                                  (to Rocher)
                            And the next church is southwest of
                            You're sure this time?
                            I need a map.    One that shows all
                            the churches in Rome.
          Rocher just stares at him, studying him.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            I could use it now.
          Rocher starts down the steps toward his car.
                                             LANGDON (cont'd)
                            And a compass!
          He looks around, sees the rickety scaffolding outside the church,
          and ---
          A MOMENT LATER,
          --- he climbs into our view, now on the scaffolding.       He's moving
          upward, fast, toward ---
          EXT     CHURCH ROOF       DUSK
          --- the roof of the old church, also undergoing renovation. The
          view of Rome is spectacular from up here, and Langdon rushes to
          the western wall, looking intently off in that direction.
          He sees something that makes him suck in his breath, hears a voice
          from behind him ---
                                                 VITTORIA   (O.S.)
          --- and turns as Vittoria tosses something small and black up to
          A compass.    He catches it, holds it steady, and walks toward the
          edge of the roof as the compass needle swivels and settles on SW.
          Langdon looks up, following the line of the needle, up over the
          rooftops of Rome, to a massive structure in the distance, exactly
          in line with the compass needle.
          A huge dome on the horizon blots out the setting sun.
          ST.   PETER'S BASILICA.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          INT      CAR      NIGHT
          CLOSE ON a map of Rome, unfolded in the back seat of a racing car
          and spread out over Langdon and Vittoria's laps.    Langdon has a
          pen and is drawing a line on the map, through --
                             The black rectangles with crosses are
                             churches, and none of them intersect
                             the line until it comes to an end,
                             right in the middle of St. Peter's
          Night has fallen, and the four Alfa Romeos are now speeding across
          Rome.    No sirens, but lots of speed.    Olivetti drives, Rocher
          is in the passenger seat.
                             Your theory doesn't hold up,
                             Professor.    Michelangelo designed
                             St. Peter's, not Bernini.
                             The Basilica is Michelangelo, but the
                             square is Bernini.    The second
                             marker must be a statue in the square.
                             It's ten minutes till nine!   Can we
                             go any faster?!
                             Not unless we want the full attention
                             of the world press.
          She looks down, to two television screens mounted into the backs
          of the front seats.    Both are tuned to coverage of the papal
          selection process, REPORTERS doing stand-ups from the middle of
          crowded St. Peter's Square.
          We move in on one of the images, then into the image, coming out -
                                                                      CUT TO:
          EXT     ST.   PETER'S SQUARE     NIGHT
          --- on a television monitor in St. Peter's Square. The Reporter, a
          JAPANESE WOMAN, is giving a stand-up report on the progress so
          far, gesturing to the chimney over the Sistine Chapel.
          The crowd has grown, now four thousand, maybe five. FLASHBULBS
          POP.    A few PROTESTERS CHANT.
          Almost silently, behind them all, half a dozen black Alfa Romeos
          race in, too fast, and come to an abrupt halt.
          IN ROCHER'S CAR,
          they all get out, trying to avoid causing a panic.
          Langdon walks into the square, eyes focused on an object in the
                             Another obelisk.    We're close.
          He looks up, at row after row of statues that ring the square from
          atop the oval colonnades.
          SHARPSHOOTERS scurry among the statuary, setting themselves up.
          In the crowd, Rocher MUTTERS into his radio and to undercover
          SWISS GUARD scattered throughout.    The crowd is unaware of them.
          Langdon keeps walking, turning in circles, looking above him, to
          the tops of the colonnades that border the square.
                           There must be a hundred statues up
                           there, which one is it?
                           How in God's name would anyone make a
                           sculpture about air?
          And indeed there are.    Langdon looks at his watch.      Two
          minutes to nine.
          And then he freezes.    Staring down, not up.
          He takes a step back. There is a fresco carved into the square
          beneath his feet, or more accurately --
                                               LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Bas relief!
          He takes a step back, to look at the carving, as does Vittoria.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                           The other half of sculpture is bas
                                (to Vittoria)
                           Look for more!     Something having to
                           do with air!
          They move through the crowd, pushing people aside, causing a bit
          of a ruckus as they try to uncover the elaborate carvings in the
          stone of the square.
          (IF WE ARE EAGLE-EYED, at this point we will see TWO ROBED MEN,
          one helping the other, who carries a cross, as they pass through
          the crowd behind Langdon.)
          Remembering something, Langdon rushes forward, toward the center
          of the square, uncharacteristically brusque with the crowd,
          shoving his way through now.
          He draws close to one carving in particular, slows to a stop, and
          stares down at it, eyes wide.
          It's a carving of an angel's face, cheeks billowing outward as it
          blows a gust of wind, symbolized by five vertical streaks.    Its
          title is ---
                                            LANGDON (cont'd)
                              "West Ponente."    The West Wind.    An
                              angel's face and five streaks.   Air!
          So this is it, but now what?    They look around frantically,
          scanning the crowd.    So does Rocher, so does Olivetti.    The
          BELLS of St. Peter's start to TOLL the hour.
          a LITTLE GIRL dances with a doll.      Happily unaware of what's
          going on.
          some PROTESTERS tangle.      Some believe one thing, others don't.
          Swiss Guard and Vatican Police race in to break it up. But there's
          no bloodshed.
          CLOSE TO THAT,
          a ROBED MAN carrying a small wooden cross falls to the ground.
          Somebody near him SCREAMS.
          the Little Girl is jostled by a HOMELESS MAN, drops her doll.
          THE ROBED MAN
          is helped to his feet by the Police.      He's fine.   He wanders
          away, holding his cross high.
          And as he passes us, we catch just a glimpse of his face ---
          --and recognize Mr. Gray.
          bends down, picks up her doll, and sees --
          -- IT'S COVERED IN BLOOD.
          She looks down at the ground, sees a trail of blood, follows it
          with her eyes to where ---
          -- the Homeless Man, dressed in torn rags, leans against a
          fountain, gasping for breath.
          Vittoria and Langdon hear the SCREAMS.    They're closest, and
          they're at the fountain in just a few seconds.
          Langdon drops to his knees, turns the Homeless Man over.
          Through the man's torn shirt, he can see a black and red brand
          burned into his chest.
          Three letters, ornate script, reading the same front to back:
          Vittoria grabs his arm,   feels for a pulse.
                             He's still alive!
          But the dying Cardinal is gasping for breath, his mouth opening
          and closing like a fish on a dock.
          She bends down, arches his neck, closes her mouth over his, and
          blows air into his lungs.
          Immediately, a fog of red mist BILLOWS from two puncture holes in
          the man's chest, covering Langdon in blood --- his face, his
                                           VITTORIA (cont'd)
                             His chest! They punctured his lungs!
          Langdon recoils in horror, overcome, completely out of his depth.
          Rocher arrives, as does Olivetti, as do a DOZEN MORE SWISS GUARD
          and VATICAN POLICE.    Rocher looks around, defeated and enraged,
          as the Cardinal expires and the Crowd panics, fleeing in all
          He presses his radio to his lips and keys the mic.
                             Clear the square.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          INT     BATHROOM      NIGHT
          Blood and water swirl down a drain. Langdon looks up from the
          sink, water rushing from his face. He dries himself, looks in the
          mirror.    He holds up his hands. They're shaking.
          He's standing in a lavish marble bathroom, now cleaned up and
          changed into black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt.    No
          Roman collar, they don't just give you those, but clearly the
          clothes of a priest.    He steps out of the bathroom and into ---
          INT     PAPAL OFFICE     NIGHT
          -- the papal office, where the Camerlengo, Rocher, Olivetti, and
          Vittoria are gathered again, as are HALF A DOZEN other security
          officers.     It's crowded, busy, little knots of jurisdictional
          arguments and competing theories around the room.
          The Camerlengo, at his desk, is stunned, speaking to Olivetti.
          Langdon edges close enough to hear, but not too close.
                            When did this call come in?
                            Three, four minutes ago.    The same
                            voice as on the tape.    We're
                            analyzing the accent now, Alsatian is
                            our best guess at the moment.
                            And he actually claimed responsibility
                            for the death of His Holiness?
                            Not personally, but he said it was the
                            Illuminati.    He said they murdered
                            That's ridiculous, the Holy Father
                            died of a stroke.    Did he say how
                            they claim to have done it?
                            The Pope's own medication.     A drug
                            known as Heparin?
          There is silence for a moment.      Rocher looks up.    Looks away.
                            The Pope took Heparin?
                            He had thrombophlebitis.    He took an
                            injection once a day.    But no one
                            knew that.
                            Someone knew.
                           His Holiness had health concerns; he
                           was subject to seizures as well. But
                           he took steps to make sure he was --
                           watched.    For safety.    That's all
                           he wished to be made public, and
                           that's all we should discuss.
                                (ignoring him)
                           Heparin is lethal in the wrong dosage.
                           An overdose would cause massive
                           internal bleeding and brain
                           hemorrhages.    At first it might look
                           like a stroke, but in a few days his
                           body would show signs, we could easily-
          Rocher spins on her, livid.
                           Ms. Vetra, in case you're unaware,
                           papal autopsies are prohibited by
                           Vatican Law.    We are not about to
                           defile His Holiness's body just
                           because his enemies claim to-
                           Of course we're not.    We'll make a
                           public announcement refuting this
                           absurd claim.
          Father Simeon, Cardinal Mortati's aide, steps forward.
                                         FR. SIMEON
                           I'm afraid that's out of the question.
                           Cardinal Mortati has insisted this
                           entire matter be kept internal.
                           Cardinal Mortati shouldn't even be
                           aware of this, he's locked in
                                         FR. SIMEON
                           His final instructions before sealing
                           the doors were very clear -- no outside
                           communications unless absolutely
                           Cardinal Mortati will remember that he
                           is Dean of the College of Cardinals,
                           not His Holiness himself.
                                         FR. SIMEON
                           As you say. Yet, technically, now that
                           Conclave has begun, it is his
                           privilege and duty to control public
                           announcements. I've drafted a short
                           release about the incident in the
                           square, but any other statements are
                           specifically prohibited. For that, the
                           Cardinal has asked me to remind you --
                           we have a chimney.
          The Camerlengo just stares at him, a power struggle. Which he is
          going to lose.
                           As you say.
                                (turns away)
                           Commander Rocher, the search for the
                           We've turned the power off and on to
                           about twenty percent of Vatican City.
                           Nothing on the video yet.
                           Mr. Langdon, you've been right so far,
                           if belatedly, about the Path. It's now
                           nine fifteen, how quickly can you find
                           the next church?
          Langdon refers to a map spread out on the desk.
                           The line of the breath in the carving
                           points due east, directly away from
                           Vatican City, but there are five
                           lines, so there's room for error.
          While he talks, an AIDE in a business suit is ushered quietly in
          the door by a Swiss Guardsman.    He's carrying a satchel.
          Vittoria recognizes him, and he goes to her.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           There are about twenty churches that
                           intersect it.    None of their names
                           invoke "fire," but there must be a
                           Bernini sculpture inside one of them
                           that does.    I'm going to need to get
                           back into the Archives to find it.
                                 (to Olivetti)
                            Escort him.
          Langdon looks to Vittoria -- you coming? She looks up from a table,
          where she's opened the satchel brought in by the Aide. She holds
          two leather-bound books in her hand.
                            The journals I asked for.    I'd like
                            to stay here and study them.    If
                            Leonardo told anyone else about our
                            project, that could be the killer.
          The group starts to break up, half of them headed for the doors.
          As Langdon rolls up the map on the desk, the Camerlengo notices
          his black clothes for the first time.
                                          CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                            Professor, would it surprise you to
                            find those clothes suit you?
          Langdon manages a sliver of a smile, starting to like this guy.
                            It would surprise the hell out of me.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          EXT     ST.   PETER'S SQUARE     NIGHT
          St. Peter's has been cleared out, the throng moved to barricades
          at its edges so that the crime scene can be properly investigated.
          Flashbulbs POP everywhere.
          The row of TV REPORTERS is nearly shoulder to shoulder, and we
          move along them --- first up is an ITALIAN REPORTER:
                                           ITALIAN REPORTER
                            -- a statement just released by the
                            Vatican expressing sympathy for the
                            family of the mugging victim, a
                            tourist from Dusseldorf --
          Still moving, we pass a CHINESE REPORTER.
                                            CHINESE REPORTER
                            --- who is now confirmed dead.
                            Vatican Police have a suspect in
                            custody, and after photographing the
                            crime scene ---
          Still moving,   a FRENCH REPORTER.
                                           FRENCH REPORTER
                            --- will allow the crowds of faithful
                            back into St. Peter's Square, where
                            security will be doubled.
          Still moving, a BBC REPORTER,    in English.
                                          BBC REPORTER
                            Sadly, the Vatican spokesman points
                            out, where crowds go --
          And finally, an AMERICAN.
                                           AMERICAN REPORTER
                            --- so often follows crime. We're
                            trying now to get the name of the
                            tourist who was- wait a-
          The American Reporter looks confused, somebody's talking to her in
          her earpiece.
                                          AMERICAN REPORTER (cont'd)
                            We're getting word now of -- smoke,
                            smoke from the Sistine Chapel chimney,
                            apparently there's been another vote I
          And almost as one, the row of TV cameras all swing away from the
          crime scene in the square and up, to the Sistine Chapel chimney,
          where there is indeed a thick cloud --
          --- of black smoke.    Still no new pope, and the subject is
          effectively changed.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          Langdon and Lt. Chartrand, the young Swiss Guardsman, walk quickly
          down the row of hermetically sealed vaults in the Vatican
          Langdon's leading, looking at the names on the outsides of each of
          the individual vaults.
                            What are you looking for this time?
                            I beg your pardon?
                            Artwork is valuable, and corporations
                            tend to keep track of their holdings.
                            The Catholic Church is not a
                            corporation, Signore, it is a beacon,
                            a source of inspiration for one
                            billion lost and frightened souls.
                            Sure sure, I get that.
          He stops, pointing up at a sign on the end of one of the vaults --
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            But it's also a bank.
          He takes one last breath of oxygen-rich air, pushes through the
          revolving door --
          INT     VAULT     NIGHT
          --- and comes through the other side, eyes scanning the place.    A
          moment later, Chartrand follows him through the door.     Langdon
          looks at him --- you're coming in too?
                            Cfmmander Olivetti said I was not to
                            leave your side this time.
                                 (a mutter)
                            Wasn't me, it was her,
          place as fast as he can.
          A book drops onto a table, pages flip by, Langdon studies it,
          SLAMS it shut.
          BAM! BAM! Two more books, flipped open, compared, pages rifled,
          his hand finds a five-inch thick ledger marked "Bernini."
          ON A TABLE,
          it SMACKS down and opens to the first page. Langdon sits, begins
          turning the pages, one by one.
          his vision momentarily blurs.         He rubs his eyes, it clears
          He looks up, at a vent over the doorway. Thin ribbons flutter in
          the breeze of the minimal oxygen that's being pumped in.
          He goes back to work.   Chartrand watches him.
                                                                          CUT TO:
          INT     PAPAL OFFICE     NIGHT
          Looking out the window of the papal office, we see the barricades
          removed from the edges of St. Peter's Square.    The crowds
          Pulling back, we see the Camerlengo looking out at them, thinking,
          troubled.    There are still half a dozen Security Officials in
          the papal office, but the Camerlengo turns and looks at Vittoria,
          working alone at a desk on the far side of the office.
          AT THE DESK,
          Vittoria pores over the journals sent from Geneva.    Sensing
          something, she looks up.    The Camerlengo is standing over her.
          He speaks quietly.
                           What sort of signs?
                           I'm sorry?
          The Camerlengo looks over his shoulder, to make sure their
          conversation is private.
                           If the Holy Father were given an
                           overdose of Heparin... what signs
                           would his body bear?
                            Bleeding of the oral mucosa.
                                 (off his questioning look)
                            His gums.    Postmortem, the blood
                            congeals and turns the inside of the
                            mouth black.
                            Even though he died fourteen days ago?
                            It wouldn't show up until at least a
                            week after his death.
          He looks around the room once more.          Then back to her?
                            He was... very important to me.
                            I understand.
          He thinks for a long moment, then --
                            Please come.
          --- turns and leaves the room.         She makes sure no one's looking,
          then follows him out.
          She leaves the journals behind.
                                                                           CUT TO:
          CLOSE ON the Bernini ledger, which Langdon is now almost halfway
          through.    He tiyrns a page, scans the list of items written
          there, then moves on to the next.
          He blinks, his vision blurring again. He looks over at Chartrand,
          who's suffering even worse, panting for air, hands on his knees.
                            You don't smoke, do you?
                                 (yes, a lot)
                            A little bit.
                            Sit down before you fall down.
          Chartrand half-stumbles into a chair on the opposite side of the
          table.    Langdon goes back to what he was doing, flipping a page--
          --- and then immediately flipping it back.
          There is a hand-written notation alongside one of the entries.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            My Italian's no good, what does this
                            note say?   Next to the entry for The
                            Ecstasy of St. Teresa?
          Chartrand leans over the ledger, squinting hard, trying to focus.
                            "Moved at suggestion of the artist."
                            Moved to another church?      At
                            Bernini"s suggestion?
          Chartrand, really suffering for air, can't follow it.
                            I don't know.
          Langdon flips the page back, to a photograph of the sculpture in
          THE STATUE
          is of a woman, seemingly in the throes of ecstasy, while an angel
          hovering over her holds a spear aloft.
          Langdon raises an eyebrow.
          The word "Seraphim" jumps up from the page, words in quotes after
          it -- "Seraphim, meaning 'the fiery one...'"
          More words pop out at us -- "His great golden spear... filled with
                                             LANGDON (cont'd)
          Still more -- "woman inflamed by passion's fire..."
          And now a close-up of her enraptured face.
          And now three things happen in quick succession:
          -- Langdon SLAMS the ledger shut,
          -- the ribbons on the air vent fall as the oxygen into the vault is
          cut off, and
          -- one by one, ALL THE LIGHTS IN THE ARCHIVES GO OUT.
          Total silence for a moment.
          Langdon and Chartrand look at each other in the darkness.
                                                 LANGDON (cont'd)
                            The door -- ?
                            That's too bad.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          INT     ST.   PETER'S BASILICA          NIGHT
          The Camerlengo, flanked by two Swiss Guardsmen, escorts Vittoria
          rapidly across the deserted floor of St. Peter's Basilica.
                            Where are we going?
                            To see my father.
                            I don't understand.
          They circle past a pillar and she sees an orange glow up ahead,
          seeming to emanate from beneath the floor in the center of the
                            I was orphaned when I was nine years
                            old.    A bombing in Madrid -- Basque
                            separatists protesting the visit of a
                            Catholic archbishop.
          As they draw closer, she sees it's the entrance to a sumptuous
          underground chamber, surrounded by scores of glowing oil lamps.
                                            CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                              The archbishop felt responsible, and
                              he adopted me the following day.    I
                              was raised by him, and by the church.
          The Camerlengo starts down a winding stairway, rimmed by the
          they descend, lit by the spectral glow of the oil lamps.
                                            CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                              He was the wisest man I ever met, even
                              with my youthful foolishness. He
                              always saw the middle way.    I wanted
                              to be ordained, but I also refused to
                              be excused from military service.
                              So he suggested I fly rescue missions,
                              helicopters bringing the wounded to
          He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at her.
                                            CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                              He was a great man.
                              He died?
                              Fourteen days ago.
          Vittoria, stunned, realizes who he's talking about.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT     VATICAN ARCHIVES       NIGHT
          KA-CHUNG! Emergency lights switch on in the Vatican Archives,
          casting a weird, reddish glow over everything.
          But the ribbons at the oxygen panel remain limp.
          Below, Langdon pushes, again and again, on the deadened exit
          button, trying to activate the doors.    Nothing doing.
          He's weak, weaving, barely on his feet.
          Chartrand's already slumped against a wall, his radio in hand,
          keying it over and over again, but getting only static.
          Chartrand gestures weakly around the room.
                            Walls... lead-lined... no signal.
          Langdon blinks, his vision becoming seriously impaired. He holds
          his eyes closed for a moment, opens them, it's not much better.
          Langdon looks at the glass wall on the far side of the vault. Then
          at the row of bookcases.    Gets an idea.
          He goes to the last bookcase, which is about six feet from the
          glass wall. He hoists himself up on the shelf of the bookcase
          opposite it, wedges himself in.
          And pushes with one leg.      The giant bookcase teeters, but just
          Langdon hoists himself further up, gets both legs up against the
          Pushes again -- more movement this time.
          Now he puts everything he has into it, straining like hell.    The
          bookcase starts to tip, goes just past the point of no return,
          starts to fall, gloriously headed straight for the glass wall,
          which it SLAMS into with enormous power and --
          --- stops.
          Leaning against the wall.     Forget cracks, there's not even a
          Langdon CURSES under his breath, looks around for another idea.
          He hears a soft THUD from the other side of the room, sees
          Chartrand has slumped over, unconscious.
          But his jacket has fallen open, revealing the sidearm he carries
          in a shoulder holster.
          LANGDON'S HAND
          slips the gun out of the holster and hefts it.     Safe bet he's
          never held one of these before.
          He staggers over toward the glass wall, raises the gun, and pulls
          the trigger.    Nothing happens.    Trigger doesn't even move.
          After a moment of oxygen-poor thinking, he figures out how to
          CLICK off the safety.    Tries again.
          The sound of the shot is barely audible to Langdon.     His brain's
          going fast.
          If he was hoping to bring the whole wall down, he failed, but
          there's a faint HISSING sound coming from the bullethole, and he
          goes to it and takes a deep breath of air from the outside.
          He stands back, his brain clearing momentarily.
          Seized by an idea, he looks up at the wall, at its four corners,
          and at the tiny web of cracks radiating out from the hole he just
          made in the center.
          He raises the gun again and fires off FOUR SHOTS in quick
          succession.    They're in an odd pattern-- upper left corner, upper
          right, not quite as high, lower middle-left, and the very lower
          right corner.
          Now there are four new holes, each HISSING slightly, and the first
          hole, in the center.
          Shaking his head once more to clear it, Langdon steps forward to
          the glass wall, but instead of barreling against it or throwing a
          chair, he simply raises one hand, places it flat over the first
          hole he made, the one in the center of the glass wall ---
           -- and presses gently.
          Almost immediately, a SHARP SOUND comes from the hole beneath his
          hand and a jagged crack leaps out from the first hole, shooting up
          to connect with the hole in the upper left corner.
          He presses just a touch harder and a SECOND CRACK starts,
          shooting down to the lower right.    Then a third, and a fourth,
          the glass is cracking like ice in springtime, all four extremities
          connecting with the central hole, and with a huge GROANING SOUND -
          -- the entire glass wall falls to pieces at his feet.
          Air RUSHES into the vault.
          And, wouldn't you know it, the power comes back on in the Archives.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          Vittoria, the Camerlengo, and the two Swiss Guard reach the
          entrance to the Holy Vatican Grottoes just as --
          -- their power goes out.
          Two flashlights CLICK on, and the Guardsmen lead the way in.   On
          both sides, hollow niches line the walls.    Recessed in the
          alcoves, as far as the flashlights let them see, the hulking
          shadows of sarcophagi loom.
          On top of each tomb are life-sized marble carvings of each Pope,
          shown in death and wearing full papal vestments, arms folded
          across their chests.
                           If the Holy Father was murdered, the
                           implications are profound.    Vatican
                           security is impenetrable, no one from
                           the outside could have gotten anywhere
                           near him.
                           Meaning it was someone on the inside.
                           We can trust no one
          He steps up his pace, taking the lead, knows exactly where he's
          going.    The others fall behind, as everyone slowly realizes what
          he intends to do.    And they're not at all sure they're up for
          the Camerlengo closes the last few feet alone. He knees down in
          front of the bright marble carving, a likeness of the late Pope.
          He WHISPERS.
                           Father... Holy Father... You told me
                           when I was young that the voice in my
                           heart was that of God.    You told me
                           I must follow it no matter what
                           painful places it leads.    I hear it
                           now, asking me the impossible.    Give
                           me strength.    Forgive me.    What I
                           do, I do in the name of everything you
          BEHIND HIM,
          the others watch as he finishes his private prayer, stands, and
          turns to them.
                                            CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                              Remove the covering.
          Nobody moves.      Just stares at him.
                                            CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                              Did you hear me?
                                            SWISS GUARDSMAN
                              Signore, by law we are at your
                              command.    But we are also bound by-
                              I ask your forgiveness for putting you
                              in this position.    Vatican laws are
                              established to protect the church. But
                              it is in that very spirit that I
                              command you to break them now.
          A moment of silence, and then --
          -- they step forward.    Set their flashlights on the floor.
          And step to the tomb.    Bracing their hands against the marble
          covering near the head of the tomb, they plant their feet and
          It doesn't move.
          They push harder.
          Vittoria and the Camerlengo join them.
          With an almost primal GROWL of stone on stone, the lid slides,
          rotating off the top of the casket and coming to rest at an angle.
          The Camerlengo picks up a flashlight and shines it in the crypt.
          Vittoria leans forward.
          The light creeps up the Pope's body, over his burial vestments,
          past his folded hands, and finally to his face.
          His cheeks have collapsed, the Pope's mouth gapes wide      --
          -- and his tongue is black as death.
                                                                           CUT TO:
          The face of Langdon's Mickey Mouse watch is smeared with blood
          from a cut on his hand, but we can still read the time.
          It's 9:41.
          Langdon and Chartrand stagger down the front steps of the Vatican
          Archives, where they're immediately met by three Vatican Police
          cars.    Olivetti leaps out of one and meets them at the base of
          the steps, holding his hands up in defense almost before Langdon
          can lay into him.
                           Are you out of your minds?!
                           Please.    In the car.
                           Someone tried to kill me.
                           Do you know where the next church is?
                           Then get in the car!
          Langdon jumps in the back seat of the car with Olivetti, and they
          SQUEAL away from the Archives.
          IN THE CAR,
          they continue as the DRIVER tears through the streets of Rome.
                           We had no idea that --
                           You heard me ask permission!    You
                           assigned me an escort!    Don't try to
                           tell me you didn't know I was in
                                (let me finish)
                           Of course I knew, but we had no idea
                           that portions of our white zones are
                                         OLIVETTI (cont'd)
                           cross-wired with that building.
                           Commander Rocher was extending the
                           search, if he'd known the Archives
                           were on that grid, he never would have
                           killed the power.
          Langdon looks at him evenly, sees in Olivetti's eyes that they may
          be thinking the same thing.
                           Or there is the other possibility.
          Olivetti doesn't answer.     But he's thinking about it.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Infiltration is the Illuminati
                           specialty -- why not the head of the
                           Swiss Guard?
                           I want to speak to the Camerlengo.
                           Il Camerlengo is unavailable,
                           Unavailable?        Why?
                           He's found evidence that the Holy
                           Father was indeed murdered.    He is
                           seeking guidance.
                           From whom?
          Olivetti looks at him   -- what are you, an idiot?
                           From God.
                           Oh, right.
                           Please.      Make an effort.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     PAPAL OFFICE      NIGHT
          Vittoria, escorted by the two Swiss Guardsmen from the grottoes,
          returns to the papal office.
          She goes to the desk where she was sitting earlier, to resume her
          examination of the journals.
          But the desk is bare.
                           The journals.        Where are they?
          The Guardsmen look at her blankly.
                                         VITTORIA   (cont'd)
                           Who took the journals from this desk?!
          The Camerlengo, in deep meditation, slowly descends the stairs
          that lead to the Sistine Chapel.
          At the bottom, Four Swiss Guard (in traditional garb) guard the
          locked doors.
          The Camerlengo reaches them.    Hesitates.      Looks heavenward for
          one last word of encouragement, and then --
                           Unseal the doors.
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
          There is an audible GASP from the assembled cardinals as the heavy
          locks CLUNK open, the chains RATTLE away, and the main doors of
          the Sistine Chapel sweep open.
          The Camerlengo walks in, a stark presence in his black cassock
          amid the sea of red robes. Cardinal Mortati steps from behind the
          altar to meet him.
                           Signore, do you realize that for the
                           first time in Vatican history, a
                           Camerlengo has just crossed the sacred
                           threshold of conclave after sealing
                           the doors?
                                                                       CUT TO:
                           There has been a development.
          EXT      ROME - STREET      NIGHT
          Olivetti's Alfa Romeo races through the streets of Rome, trailed
          by three other cars.
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo has just passed on the shocking news, and the
          whispered word "murder" can be heard in several languages.
          Even Mortati is shaken.   The Camerlengo speaks to the Cardinals.
                           Please... a moment... if I...
          He strides quickly up the steps of the altar to address the group
          -- again, to the shock and surprise of this most conservative and
          rule-bound group.
          But no one stops him.
                                         CAMERLENGO   (cont'd)
                           It is true we are under attack from an
                           old enemy.    And this time they've
                           struck from within, murdering our Holy
                           Father and threatening us all with
                           destruction at the hands of their new
                           god, science.    So what are we to do?
          INT      OLIVETTI'S CAR      NIGHT
          CLOSE ON the dashboard clock in Olivetti's car, which now reads
          8:57.    Langdon looks up from it, staring intently through the
          On the horizon, he sees a faint orange glow.
                           Oh no.
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo continues, and the cardinals are listening.
                           Since the days of Galileo, the church
                           has tried to slow the relentless march
                           of science, sometimes with misguided
                           means, but always with benevolent
                           intention.    Still, they call us
                           backward, ignorant.
                                         CAMERLENGO   (cont'd)
                           But who is more ignorant?   The man
                           who cannot define lightning, or the
                           man who does not respect its awesome
          INT      OLIVETTI'S CAR      NIGHT
          Through the windshield of Olivetti's car, we see that orange glow,
          closer now.    It's a building on fire.
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL      NIGHT
          The Camerlengo continues, growing passionate.
                           The promises of science have not been
                           kept.    We're a fractured and frantic
                           species, moving down of destruction in
                           the name of progress.
          The police cars come to an abrupt stop in front of the Church of
          Santa Maria della Vittoria.    Flames glow like evil eyes through
          the stained-glass windows fifty feet above the ground.
          A small CROWD has gathered, stabbing at their cell phones.    A
          SIREN WAILS in the distance.
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL      NIGHT
          Mortati's Aide, Father Simeon, takes advantage of the open Sistine
          Chapel doors and slips inside.    He takes a place just behind
          Mortati as the Camerlengo goes on.
                           Science and religion are not enemies.
                           But there are things that science is
                           simply too young to understand.    We
                           are here to lead, but how?
          With three sharp CRACKS, Olivetti fires into the lock in the front
          door of the church.    He KICKS it open --
          -- and flame RIPS out into the night air.
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL      NIGHT
          The Camerlengo speaks faster now:
                           Shall we cloak ourselves in silence
                           and secrecy, as in the past?    Or do
                           we open the doors, take down the
                           blackened curtains, and speak to our
          Olivetti, Langdon, and four other VATICAN POLICE make their way
          into the burning church.    There is a massive pile of church pews
          in the center aisle, burning wildly.
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo's wrapping up:
                           Signores, I ask, no, I pray that you
                           break this conclave.    Open the
          In the burning church, two heavy incensor cables run from the
          walls of the church and rise above the burning pews at an angle,
          strung tightly to a center point.    Langdon follows the wires up
          with his eyes --
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
                           Evacuate St. Peter's Square.
          INT     BURNING CHURCH       NIGHT
           -- the wires meet at a center point, just above the roaring
          flames, where --
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
                           Tell the world the truth.
          INT      BURNING CHURCH     NIGHT
           -- the third cardinal, still alive, is suspended over the searing
          A word is branded into the center of his bared chest:
          Vatican Police, led by Olivetti and Vincenzo, race into the
          building and draw their weapons.    Olivetti SHOUTS to them in
          Italian, looking for a way to cut down the agonized cardinal.
          Langdon races toward the pyre, but is repelled by a wall of heat
          ten feet away.
          The Cardinal SCREAMS, and Langdon looks to the sides, following
          the cables that reach to the walls.
          One of the Vatican Cops ducks
          which is lit only by the wild orange flames.    He creeps forward,
          gun in front of him, toward a fire extinguisher mounted on the
          He reaches for it --
          -- but a HAND reaches for him from behind, he's pulled off his
          feet and --
          IN THE MAIN AISLE,
          Olivetti and Vincenzo whirl as TWO GUNSHOTS come from the darkened
          side aisle.    They race toward it.
          AT THE BONFIRE,
          Langdon SHOUTS to two more Vatican Cops, pointing upward.
                            The cleat, on the wall!   Get
                            something to stand on!
          He's pointing at a cleat, maybe ten feet up on the wall, where the
          right guide wire is attached.
          Vatican Cops 2 & 3 drag a half-burned pew out of the fire and pull
          it underneath, leaning it against the wall for greater height,
          Langdon starts to climb it, to uncleat the wire.
          Olivetti creeps forward, gun at the ready, Vincenzo close behind
          They see a form on the floor in front of them and Olivetti bends
          down -- it's the first Vatican Policeman.
          Dead in a pool of his own blood.
          Vincenzo, standing behind Olivetti, looks down, horrified, and in
          that moment of distraction, a figure creeps up behind him --
          -- and twists his head 180 degrees with one smooth motion.
          Olivetti whirls, but his gun comes around a split-second slower
          than he does and in that split-second a shadow falls over him,
          something SLASHES through the air and --
          IN THE MAIN AISLE,
          Langdon struggles to climb the pew that's leaned against the wall
          as Vatican Cop 4 finds a long-handled candle snuffer and races
          toward the edge of the fire with it.
          Blinking back the intense heat, he manages to hook the Cardinals
          manacled foot with it, he turns to Langdon--
           -- who, stretched as far as he possibly can, just manages to
          loose the wire from its cleat, holding tightly to it so as not to
          let the Cardinal go into free-fall.
          But the pew on which he's balanced starts to wobble, then- --
          -- BLAM!    BLAM!
          Two gunshots THUD into the chests of Vatican Cops 2 & 3, who were
          supporting the pew.    They fall, the pew tips --
          -- and Langdon,   falling   --
          -- loses his grip on the chain.
          The Cardinal falls toward the flames. Vatican Cop 4 tries to pull
          him to safety, but doesn't have enough of WHIRRS through the
          pulley until it reaches its the Cardinal to an abrupt stop, six
          feet lower
          -- and directly in the middle of the bonfire.
          His SHRIEK of agony echoes through the burning church.
          Langdon SLAMS to the floor just at the edge of the burning church
          pews, maybe CRACKING a rib on the hard floor of the church.
          A FIGURE steps out of the shadows, looming over him, Langdon looks
          up, expecting a gunshot, but instead --
           -- sees the bleeding figure of Olivetti, staggering toward him,
          clutching his slit throat in his last moments of life.
          Vatican Cop 4 is desperately trying to pull the Cardinal from the
          flames, the end of the candle-snuffer is now hooked around the
          Cardinal's foot, he pulls him closer, reaches out, can almost grab
          his ankle --
           -- until he is SHOT in the back.    He falls to the floor,
          drawing and dropping his gun in the process, losing his grip on
          the long-handled pole as well.
          On the ground, bleeding, he sees his gun, just a foot away from
          his hand.
          He reaches for it.
          And a foot steps on his wrist, BREAKING it.
          Mr. Gray stands over him,     implacable.
          FROM A DISTANCE,
          we see Mr. Gray fire two shots into the ground where Cop 4 is
          Then he turns toward us.
          Langdon, still on the ground, looks up at the sound of the shots.
          Through the burning church pews he can see Mr. Gray, starting
          toward him.
          Langdon crawls, on all fours, through the outskirts of the
          bonfire, toward a recessed part of the wall ten or fifteen feet
          Mr. Gray steps up behind him, raises his gun           --
                                                VOICE   (O.S.)
           -- and turns.    TWO MORE COPS, Roman Carbinieri, have run into
          the burning church and are making their way down the center aisle,
          straight toward him.
          Mr. Gray raises his left (non-gun holding) hand, displaying a
          leather billfold with a badge in it.
                                           MR. GRAY
                                  (good Italian accent)
                             Gendarmeria Vaticano!
          Recognizing the ID, the two Cops glance away for a second, to
          search the rest of the church --
          -- and Mr. Gray BLASTS two shots into each of them.
          They drop, dead, but one of them squeezes off a single round
          before falling.
          Mr. Gray looks down, at his right shoulder, where a dark red stain
          is spreading on his suit.    He touches it, more annoyed than
          Langdon has crawled as close as he dares to the raging fire, and
          the sleeve of his shirt is ablaze.    He rolls out the other side
          of the embers, stamping out the flames, gets to his feet, and
          takes off running.
          Mr. Gray pursues, only slowing his gait slightly to DOUBLE TAP two
          shots into the head of a dying Vatican Cop.
          Langdon hurls himself over a balustrade and into a chapel on the
          far side of the church.    Bullets SHATTER the glass of an
          elevated crypt, three feet off the floor.    (Inside is a superbly
          detailed wax statue of a saint in death.)
          Langdon dives under it and crawls backwards, staring in horror at
          Mr. Gray's feet as they approach the chapel from across the
          Langdon's back THUDS into a wall.
          Dead end.
          But there's an old wooden grating in the wall.   He turns, KICKS
          it with both feet.
          The grating CRUNCHES into pieces, revealing a narrow crawlspace
          Langdon army-crawls through it.
          Mr. Gray's face appears in the entry to the crypt.    He pauses to
          change clips on his handgun --
          -- the floor beneath Langdon abruptly runs out   --
          -- Mr. Gray raises his gun     --
           -- and Langdon disappears. The gunshots THUD into cement wall
          where he was, not where he is.
          Langdon CRUNCHES to a hard landing on a subterranean stone floor,
          rolls over, and sees Mr. Gray above him, now pointing down.
          But there's another crawl space, and Langdon scurries into it.
          it's hopelessly dark, an even tighter space than the last one,
          filled with cobwebs that Langdon blindly claws his way through.
          He hits another hole in the floor, falls a second time ---
           -- and lands on top of a pile of long-decayed skeletons in the
          nearly-black bottom of the church's underground warren of hiding
          He looks up.    He's ten feet from the nearest handhold, only a
          fool would follow him down here
           -- and Mr. Gray is no fool.      He steps back over the balustrade
          and leaves the chapel.
          The waxen face of the carving in the sarcophagus melts in the
          intense heat of the out-of-control fire.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL - SALON        NIGHT
          In the salon outside the Sistine Chapel, the Camerlengo waits
          alone.    From inside can be heard the sound of VOICES in debate.
          Finally, the big doors open and Cardinal Mortati emerges, goes to
                            My son... God answers all prayers.
          He puts a hand on the Camerlengo's shoulder.
                                          MORTATI (cont'd)
                            But sometimes the answer is no.
          The Camerlengo closes his eyes    -- this is a terrible, terrible
                           The College will not break conclave.
                           We can't hide this anymore.        The
                           burning church --
                           A despicable act of terrorism.
                           Father Simeon will make a suitable
                           announcement lamenting the loss of
                           life.      May I suggest you direct
                           your energies to helping the Swiss
                           Guard confront the possibility of this
                           explosive device, and leave church
                           leadership --
          He gestures to the open doors to the Sistine Chapel, and the
          assembled cardinals within.
                                         MORTATI       (cont'd)
                            -- to its leaders.
          The Camerlengo looks at him for a long moment, then turns and
          wa1ks away.
          Father Simeon, who had been lurking in the open doorway to the
          chapel, now glides up beside him and touches Mortati's arm.
                                          FR. SIMEON
                           Eminence.    There is a growing fear
                           that without the four prefiriti, a two-
                           thirds majority for any candidate may
                           be impossible.    Unless --
          He trails off, gestures vaguely.
                           Speak plainly.
                                         FR. SIMEON
                           It is the recommendation of many that
                           you ask to be removed from your post
                           as Great Elector --
          Mortati raises an eyebrow, seeing where this is going.
                                         FR. SIMEON (cont'd)
                            -- thereby making yourself eligible
                           to wear the Ring of the Fisherman.
          Mortati looks at him for a moment, then looks back, over his
          shoulder, where a small knot of Cardinals, who have clearly
          discussed this, are looking at him in confirmation.
                           If it is God's will, may His will be
                                                                        CUT TO:
          CLOSE ON a handwritten page, half-filled with mathematical
          computations; the other half with a scratchy handwritten prose.
          (IF WE'RE EAGLE-EYED, we'll notice the phrase we move past just as
          we cut into the scene is "may His will be done," the same phrase
          we just heard Mortati utter.)
          Commandante Rocher is at his desk, Vittoria's leather-bound
          journals on the desk in front of him.    He's studying them
          carefully, and seems troubled by what he reads.
          Through the glass walls of his office, we can see a commotion in
          the still-chaotic Swiss Guard headquarters.    Someone is walking
          toward us, briskly, a WOMAN'S VOICE complaining loudly in Italian.
          Rocher calmly places the journals on top of the screen of the
          video monitor inlaid in his desk, the one we saw earlier, with a
          keyhole where a power switch should be.
          He pushes a button and the monitor rotates shut, into an inlaid
          panel in the desk's surface.    It closes just after --
                                         VITTORIA (O.S.)
                           Those journals are private property.
          -- Vittoria arrives in the doorway, livid.
                                         VITTORIA (cont'd)
                           I demand that you return them to me.
                                (no attempt at a
                           They are material evidence in a
                           Vatican investigation.
                           I am an Italian citizen and I have a
                           right to-
                           This isn't Italy.     It isn't even
                           Rome.    The Vatican is its own
                           country, with its own laws, and when
                           those journals crossed our border they
                           became our property.     You will get
                           them back when I have decided they
                           contain nothing of value to this
          She looks at him, then down at the desk, where the outline of the
          hidden panel is visible in the veneer of the wood.
                           Do you have something to hide,
                           Commandante Rocher?
                           Do you, Doctor Vetra?
          He stresses her title, as if it offends
                                                                      CUT TO:
          The burning church, now mostly extinguished.    But a LARGE CROWD
          has gathered, along with a dozen police and fire vehicles.
          As FIREMEN put out the last of the flames (not using water, but
          Halon gas, which creates no steam), a metallic TAPPING sound comes
          from somewhere.
          One of the Firemen approaches another, gets his attention   -- stop
          what you're doing and listen.
          They shut down a hose and stop, listening.
          There it is again.    They SHOUT in Italian to the others, now
          everybody shuts down their hoses and listens.
          The metallic TAPPING echoes in the smoldering church.
          They walk toward it -- it's coming from an oval plate in the
          floor, like a manhole cover, heavy and carved.   We've seen one
          of these before, it leads to a Demon's Hole.
          The TAPPING is louder now, rhythmic.    Somebody's down there.
          Crowbars are produced, the cover of the Demon's Hole is pried off
          and shoved aside, revealing --
           -- Robert Langdon, wedged into the top of the opening, holding a
          rock in one hand as he clings precariously to the walls he has
          Strong hands reach down, haul him to his feet      --
           -- and those same feet hurry to the front of the smoldering
          church, coming to a stop in front of --
          -- Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Teresa.
          The statue he came here to find.    Now, as the Italian-speaking
          police and firemen work around him, Langdon moves, as if in his
          own world.    He looks to the statue, repeating fragments of the
          poem he has by now memorized:
                           Let angels guide you on your lofty
          Directly over the recumbent saint, against a backdrop of gilded
          flame, hovers Bernini's angel.    The angel's hand clutches a
          pointed spear of fire.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Cross Rome the mystic elements
          Langdon's eyes follow the direction of the shaft, arcing toward
          the right side of the church.
                                              VOICE (O.S.)
          A ROMAN POLICEMAN, a member of the Carbinieri, comes up to
          Langdon, discussing him in Italian with TWO OTHER COPS as he
                                         ROMAN COP
                           Langdon, is it?
          Langdon ignores him, pointing at the wall instead.
                           What direction is that?
                                         ROMAN COP
                           Direction?   West, I think.    Mr.
                           Langdon, we've confirmed with the
                           Vatican that they invited you into
                           this investigation, but what I-
          A MOMENT LATER,
          as if by command, a map CRINKLES out on the floor of the church.
          It's detailed, a fire department map, and Langdon drops down on
          all fours, studying it.
                              We're here... Piazza Barberini...
          Langdon whips a glance over at the angel, gets bearings, and
          rotates the map to match.
          His finger travels over the map and      --
          CLOSE ON THE MAP,
          we watch as his finger crosses church after church after church,
          tiny black boxes with crosses in them.    There must be two dozen.
                              Damn it.
          He sits back for a moment.
          The Roman Cop bends down next to him.          Treats him like a crazy
                                            ROMAN COP
                              Professor, I need to know what you saw
                              Fire and death.    Show me where Santa
                              Maria del Popolo is.
                                   (the Cop doesn't
                              The Church, it was the first altar of
          The Cop points to a spot at the top center of the map.
                                            LANGDON      (cont'd)
                              And St. Peter's is...
          The Cop points to a spot at the bottom center.
          Langdon's eyes widen, he grabs the Cop by the lapels       --
          -- and pulls a pen from the man's pocket.
          He turns back to the map and draws a straight line, from north to
          south, connecting the two churches the Cop just pointed to.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           And we're over here --
          He puts the pen on a point on the eastern side of the map.
                                         LANGDON       (cont'd)
                            -- and west is --
          He draws a line straight across the map, to the west, sucking in
          his breath as he realizes something.
                                             LANGDON   (cont'd)
                           'Cross Rome...
          Now he stands, slowly, and as he stands, we rise up, to get a
          birds-eye view of the map on the floor.
          On which he has drawn a perfect cross.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           It's a cross.    The poem meant it
                           literally.    The four altars of
                           science form a perfect cross.
          The Cop, who has no clue what he's talking about, gets a call on
          his radio and turns away to take it.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                                (muttering to himself)
                           Which means the fourth element, water,
                           should be right about --
          He drops to his knees again, and traces the horizontal line to
          where it stops on the western side of the city, exactly as far
          from the center line as was the church on the eastern side.
                                             LANGDON   (cont'd)
                                         ROMAN COP
                                (behind him)
                           Professor, I am asked to escort you to
                           the Vatican immediately.    Commander
                           Rocher has asked to see you.
                                (ignoring him)
          As Langdon peers down, we see the line on the map comes to a stop
          in the center of a place called Piazza Navona, and as we go in
          closer on the map, an odd-shaped object in the middle of the
          Piazza starts to move, to ripple, right there on the map, and we
          hear the sound of running water as it slowly dissolves to --
                                                                   DISSOLVE TO:
          EXT      PIAZZA NAVONA        NIGHT
           -- Bernini's spectacular Fountain of the Four Rivers in the
          Piazza Navona.
          There is a black van parked beside the fountain, and we drift over
          toward it.    Passing through the passenger window, we go inside
          to find --
           -- Mr. Gray, facing the rear of the van, his jacket off and his
          shirt open, engaged in battlefield surgery on his injured right
          shoulder.    Using a long-handled tweezers, he digs into his own
          flesh, gets a hold of the bullet that pierced him, and tosses it
          onto the metal floor of the van with a TING.
          It lands beside a lumpy tarp, and as metal hits metal, the tarp
          There's a human being in there.       Mr. Gray speaks to the lump.
                                         MR. GRAY
                           Were it up to me, it would not be this
                           way.    It is a sin to kill with pain.
                           But I am a sinner.
          We pan off him quickly and look out the driver's window, up at a
          clock tower on the far side of the plaza.
          It's sixteen minutes to eleven.
                                                                        CUT TO:
          EXT     BURNING CHURCH        NIGHT
          Langdon hurries down the steps of the still-smoldering church,
          followed closely by the Roman Cop and TWO OTHER COPS.
                                            ROMAN COP
                           Professor!       The Vatican insists that-
                                 (turning on him)
                            The Vatican is about to see its fourth
                            Cardinal murdered tonight.
          He realizes he spoke too loudly, and there is quite a crowd
          assembled outside the smoking church.    Langdon lowers his voice
          and presses in.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            Now you can either do what they tell
                            you and force me to go to the Vatican,
                            where we can all mourn his death
                            together, or you can show them how
                            real cops act and take me to the
                            Piazza Navona, where we might be able
                            to stop it.
          The Cop looks at him, thinking, confers with another Cop in rapid
          Italian.    Langdon checks his watch.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                            By all means, talk it over.    But in
                            fourteen minutes he'll be dead.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE         NIGHT
          St. Peter's Square is even more crowded than before.    Another
          move down the row of international television reporters, but this
          one's about twice as fast as the last one.    (Anybody not
          speaking English is subtitled.)
                                          SOUTH AFRICAN REPORTER
                             -- possibility of terrorism, as the
                            church has now confirmed arson at one
                            of its oldest and holiest churches
          Moving on, to an Asian Reporter:
                                          ASIAN REPORTER
                            -- resulting in at least six confirmed
                            deaths --
          To a Brazilian:
                                          BRAZILIAN REPORTER
                             -- initial rumors that one of the
                            dead was Cardinal Ebner of Frankfurt --
          To an American:
                                         AMERICAN REPORTER
                            -- been refuted by the Vatican, which
                           has asked international media not to
                           engage in, quote, "wild speculation"--
          And to a French Woman:
                                         FRENCH REPORTER
                            -- as conclave goes on, with no sign
                           of agreement on a new pope yet.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     OFFICE OF THE POPE         NIGHT
          In the papal office, the Camerlengo sits, alone, in front of the
          fireplace, staring into the flames, thinking.
          Behind him, a small knot of Swiss Guard debate their next move in
          Italian.    He speaks softly to them, in Italian, subtitled.
                           At 11:15, if the church is still in
                           peril, give the order to evacuate the
                           cardinals.    But with dignity, let
                           them exit into St. Peter's Square,
                           with their heads held high.    I don't
                           want the last image of this church to
                           be frightened old men sneaking out a
                           back door.    If Cardinal Mortati
                           protests, escort him bodily.    Do you
          The Guardsmen are uncomfortable with that idea.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           If you think it is the right thing,
                           I'm certain it's the wrong thing,
                           and I will be removed from my post
                           for it.    But I also know we have
                           no choice.
          They just look at him.   You're the boss.
                                         CAMERLENGO   (cont'd)
                           Please clear the room so that I may
                           pray on the matter.
          They get out.    He stares into the flames.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          EXT      PIAZZA NAVONA      NIGHT
          Piazza Navona is lightly peopled on this soft summer night with so
          much attention directed toward the Vatican.
          The hood of a car glides into view, nearly silent, on the far side
          of the fountain.    Langdon and the two Roman Cops step out and
          survey the area.
          Langdon looks to the fountain.    Its central core is twenty feet
          tall, a rugged mountain of marble with caves and grottoes through
          which water churns.    Atop it stands an obelisk that climbs
          another forty feet.
                                (eyes searching)
                           Let angels guide you...
          But there's no angel anywhere.      He turns to the first Roman Cop.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Isn't there an angel on this fountain?
                                             ROMAN COP
                           Not anymore.
                           The marker's no good without an angel,
                           pointing to the final-
                                         ROMAN COP
                           Blame Mussolini.    He wanted it for
                           his summer-
          But the Cop stops mid-sentence as he notices the black van parked
          on the far side of the fountain.
          Silently, the Cops gesture to each other to go opposite ways
          around the fountain, and to Langdon to stay where he is.
          Langdon, frustrated but no action hero, watches them as they
          slowly encircle the van.
          the First Cop approaches the Driver's Window, sees Mr. Gray
          sitting implacably behind the wheel.    He taps lightly with a
          knuckle, his drawn gun at his side, just out of view.
          Mr. Gray opens the window.
                                                 MR. GRAY
          The Roman Cop looks down, ever so briefly, at a small spreading
          bloodstain on Mr. Gray's shirt.    When he looks back up --
          -- there is a silenced pistol pointing directly at him.
          He takes a bullet in the forehead, slumps forward against the
          window, and --
          FROM A DISTANCE,
          we see his body pulled rapidly into the van through the driver's
          window.    Whole thing took about three seconds.    DINERS at an
          outdoor cafe don't even notice.
          on the other side of the fountain, the van rocks slightly, but he
          can't see anything out of the ordinary.
          He turns, looks to the Second Cop, who is just now approaching
          from the rear of the van.
          this one's got his gun in front of him, he's ready for anything.
          We creep around the back of the van with him, and just as he comes
          around to where he can see the driver's side --
           -- the barrel of the silencer presses into his forehead.   A
          quick exchange in Italian:
                                                 SECOND COP
                             Per favore?
                                                 MR. GRAY
                             Non posso.
          Another bullet, another slumping Cop, and
          the van rocks again, but he can't see anything more detailed than
          that.    All he knows is the two cops aren't coming out from the
          other side of the van, something is going on --
          -- and the bell in the clock tower starts to BONG.
          -- the sliding door on the fountain side of the van SLAMS open
           -- revealing the figure of the FOURTH CARDINAL, wrapped in chains
          and with manacled hands and feet.    He thrashes against the iron
          links, but the chains are too heavy.    One of the links bisects
          his mouth like a horse's bit, stifling his cries for help.    Mr.
          Gray hovers over him.
          Langdon GASPS   --
          -- and Mr. Gray shoves the bound figure roughly out of the van.
          The Cardinal rolls, falling into the fountain with an enormous
          SPLASH.    His weighted body sinks immediately to the bottom.
          There is a moment, frozen in time, in which Langdon locks eyes
          with Mr. Gray, still hunched in the back of the van as the clock
          tower continues to BONG, the only sound we can hear.
          Langdon looks at him, then down at the body in the fountain, then
          back up at Mr. Gray--
          -- who salutes him ---
          -- the van door SLAMS shut, and the van tears ass out of there.
          Langdon looks from its receding taillights to the idling police
          car, its door hanging open, he could jump in and give chase, but
          then his eyes go back to the fountain, where the drowning cardinal
          must not have much time left, and it's really no decision at all.
          Langdon covers the distance to the fountain in two quick strides
          and leaps in.
          IN THE FOUNTAIN,
          the water is waist deep and like ice.    Steady streams of bubbles
          rise up from the bottom, churning it.
          Langdon reaches the body of the Cardinal, plunges in   --
          -- and struggles to get both arms underneath the drowning man.
          Through the watery haze, we can see the man's bare chest, branded
          with the final ambigram:
          Langdon struggles to lift him, but the weight is too much, he can
          barely get him a few inches off the bottom of the fountain, much
          less all the way to the surface.
          Langdon, running out of air, bursts to the surface and   -- ON THE
          -- takes a deep breath, then plunges back   --
          -- but he still can't move the Cardinal.
          He makes eye contact with the dying man, who seems to be accepting
          his fate, maybe even welcoming it.
          Langdon changes his grip, strains like hell, and actually gets him
          a few inches higher this time, but nowhere close to the air
          But with the new position, his eyes fall on something behind the
          cardinal -- a plastic tube, six inches across, streaming bubbles
          into the fountain.
          He goes back   --
           -- takes another breathy and sees the fountain of bubbles rising
          up to the surface just above the tube.    Air!
          Several PASSERS-BY notice the commotion in the fountain as Langdon
          dives back under the water.
          Langdon drags the body of the Cardinal a few feet across the
          bottom of the fountain and RIPS the tube free from its mooring,
          pulling it to the Cardinal's mouth.
          He clamps it down over the man's lips, and the Cardinal sucks a
          few greedy breaths from it.    Enough to keep him alive.
          Langdon takes the tube and draws a couple breaths of his own, then
          digs his hands back underneath the Cardinal to lift him, but this
          time --
          -- SIX MORE HANDS come in from all sides.
          Several Passers-by have jumped into the fountain to help, and as
          they all strain together --
          ON THE SURFACE,
           -- the Cardinal's bound body breaks the surface and he GULPS deep
          lungfuls of air.
          He is saved.    Langdon sags against the side of the fountain,
          exhausted and freezing, as the others pull the Cardinal's body to
          In the distance, SIRENS.
          Langdon, gathering himself, goes to the Cardinal, speaks in rapid
          Spanish, subtitled.
                            Cardinale Guidera?
                                               CARDINAL GU
                            The Church of Illumination.    It's
                            where you were being held, isn't it?
          Guidera nods weakly as, around them, it seems like everybody
          arrives at the fountain -- Carbinieri, Swiss Guard, Vatican
          Police, paramedics -- car after car after car.
                                          LANGDON (cont'd)
                                 (still to Guidera)
                            Where is it?!
                                          CARDINAL GUIDERA
                            Castel... Sant'Angelo...
                                                                     CUT TO:
          CLOSE ON a row of weapons in a cabinet in the Office of the Swiss
          Commander Rocher selects a pistol and slips it into a harness.
          While his back is turned to the room, Lt. Chartrand, the young
          Swiss Guardsman who escorted Langdon to the Archives, hurries up
          behind him.
                            Langdon says Cardinal Guidera will be
                            killed in Piazza Navona.    He's on
                            his way there with two Carbinieri.
                           Send everyone we can spare.
          He closes and locks the cabinet, heads for the door.     Alone.
                           Staying here to continue the search
                           for the explosive.
          He leaves.    Chartrand looks back at the weapons cabinet.     Sees
          the space from which the pistol was taken.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          EXT     CASTEL SANT'ANGELO         NIGHT
          We fly over a bridge, flanked by a dozen angel statues standing
          sentinel on either side, leading directly toward--
           -- the Castel Sant'Angelo, Castle of the Angels, its ancient
          stone ramparts lit by floodlights.    Soaring swiftly up its
          facade, we close in on a mammoth bronze angel standing atop the
          It points the way, all right, its sword aimed directly downward,
          at the castle itself, as if to say you've found it.
          several Police Cars come to a stop in front of the castle at the
          same time.
          Langdon climbs out the back of one just as Vittoria gets out of a
          car driven by a SWISS GUARDSMAN.
          Langdon grabs her, thrilled to see her.
                           You're all right?
                           I'm all right, what about you?!
                           Cold and wet but alive.       Where's
                           I don't know. He took the journals,
                           he's hiding something.
          More Cops arrive, and a SECURITY GUARD is pressed into service
          behind them, opening the massive front doors to the Castle,
                            This is it.    The Church of
                            Illumination is somewhere in the
          Cops pour into the courtyard of the castle.       Langdon and
          Vittoria follow.
          They dash around the outer bulwark of the Castle.       The courtyard
          beneath them looks like a museum of ancient warfare     -- catapults,
          stacks of marble cannonballs, fearful contraptions.
          As the Cops quickly and silently search every nook, Langdon and
          Vittoria follow closely.
                            The Vatican used this place for
                            centuries as a hideout, a prison for
                            enemies of the church -- there are
                            passages and catacombs everywhere. It
                            makes sense, the Illuminati
                            infiltrated the Church's own
                            stronghold.    Bernini was chief
                            architect here, he left clues
                            everywhere, it's even surrounded by a
                            pentagonal park!
          They reach the central core of the castle.
          Another angel statue, similar to the one atop the citadel, stands
          in front of them, its sword held in the same position, pointing
          downward at an angle.
          Langdon studies it, follows the line of the angel's sword       -- and
          sees a gated drive that cuts across the courtyard itself.
                                             LANGDON   (cont'd)
          A MOMENT LATER,
          he and Vittoria are down in the courtyard, at the mouth of the
          gated drive. The gate is open and leads to a tunnel, a gaping
          entry in the central core.
                              A traforo.    Commanders on horseback
                              used them to ride directly into a
                              castle from the outside.
          He gestures to the nearby Cops, who are already on it, and they
          all head into the darkened tunnel.
          INT   TUNNEL       NIGHT
          Police flashlights switch on and their beams bounce crazily off
          the walls of the tunnel.
          Footsteps CRUNCH as they all press in, Langdon and Vittoria
          content to let men with guns lead the way.
          It gets darker as they descend, and then, by the echo of their
          footfalls, they can tell they've entered --
          A LARGE CHAMBER.
          More lights are switched on, illuminating the space, which
          terminates in three stone walls.
                              It's a dead end.
          But the Police attention is focused on the black van parked in the
          center of the room.
          Roman Police snap into action, flashlight beams bounce everywhere,
          guns point in every possible window of the van, SHOUTS for
          whoever's inside to get the hell out now, now, now.
          The doors are flung open.
          The van is empty.
          Except for the two dead policemen from the Piazza Navona.
          The police frenzy reaches an even higher level, URGENT MESSAGES
          passed along on radios, half the Cops turning and heading back out
          of the tunnel.
                                            LANGDON   (cont'd)
                              Where are they going?
          Vittoria listens to the orders being given in Italian.
                              Back to search the outer castle.
                           No... no, it has to be here!
          But there's no stopping the Cops, and the only two that remain are
          posted outside the van, guarding their fallen colleagues.
                           Robert, it's a dead end.
          Langdon walks forward, to the stone wall at the end of the tunnel,
          and feels his way along it.
          It joins smoothly with the wall on the right side.
                                                VITTORIA   (cont'd)
          But he waves her off, this has to be it.    He feels all along the
          wall toward the other corner, and as he looks down at the ground,
          his eyes widen.
                           Bring a flashlight.
          Vittoria borrows a flashlight from one of the two remaining Cops,
          who now get a CRACKLY MESSAGE on their walkie-talkies and race out
          of the tunnel, toward the top, leaving Langdon and Vittoria alone
          in the dead end.
          She brings the light to Langdon, who shines its beam down at the
          floor.    There, in the corner, is a granite block.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           None of the other blocks are granite.
                           And they're all square.
          He bends down, looks closer.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           This one's a pentagram.   It points --
          Sure enough, the block is carved in the shape of a pentagram, with
          the tip pointing into the corner.
                                         LANGDON           (cont'd)
                            -- at nothing.
          But as he shines the light, there's something off about the shadow
          it casts in the corner of the room.    It creates an odd, dark
          Langdon crouches in the corner and slides his hand along the back
          wall of the chamber.    When he reaches the point at which it
          should intersect the side wall --
          -- his hand disappears.
                                            LANGDON       (cont'd)
                              The walls overlap.
          He flattens himself against the back wall, shining the light
          straight at what should be the intersection of the walls.    Half
          the flashlight's beam falls on the side wall, and the other half --
          INT     SECRET PASSAGE         NIGHT
          -- shines through into the secret passage behind the wall.
          Langdon draws in his breath and forces himself through the tiny
          slit, just wide enough for a determined person to squeeze through.
          Vittoria follows.
          They look ahead, shining the light. They're in an extremely narrow
          They start carefully down it, flashlight in front of them.   They
                              Do you still have the gun?
                              You told me to give it back.
          She pulls the gun from her waistband.
                                               VITTORIA   (cont'd)
                              I ignored you.
                              Ignore me any time you like.
          To their right, they pass half a dozen tiny jail cells, the iron
          bars on most eroded away.    Several of the larger cells are
          intact, and on the floor of one they see black robes and red
          They approach an iron doorway in the wall. The door is ajar and
          beyond it there is some sort of passage. Langdon squints at two
          words above it -- II Passetto.
          Vittoria gestures    -- that way?
          Langdon shakes his head no.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Leads to the Vatican.    Or from it.
                           An ancient escape route.
          They round a corner, where the tunnel takes a ninety degree turn
          to the right.    At the corner, Langdon notices another
          pentagrammal block in the floor.
          He bends, studies the direction it's pointing,         feels the wall    --
                                         LANGDON         (cont'd)
                           Another overlap.
           -- and finds another overlapping angle, this one even smaller
          than the last.    The wall is actually joined at the floor, seems
          to open out at the middle (in roughly the shape of a human form
          turned sideways), and joins again at the top.
          -- and finds himself at the base of a set of steep spiral stairs.
          Langdon looks up, to the top of the stairs.            There is an
          archway, adorned with a tiny carved angel.
          Vittoria slips through the gap, sees the carving too.
                           An angel.
          Langdon, sensing they're close, starts up the stairs.
                                                                               CUT TO:
          INT      APOSTOLIC PALACE - HALLWAY            NIGHT
          Commander Rocher, eyes dead-set, walks down a hallway in the
          Apostolic Palace.    He passes two Swiss Guardsmen with radios.
                           Get on the radio and put the word out.
                           Conclave is to remain sealed.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           But the Camerlengo gave the order for
                           evacuation at eleven fif-
                           I'm countermanding it.
                                              SWISS GUARDSMAN
                            That door stays SHUT! Do you
                                                SWISS GUARDSMAN
                            Yes sir.
          Rocher keeps walking.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          Langdon and Vittoria creep into the Church of Illumination, and we
          get our first good look at it.
          The embellishments, though faded, are replete with familiar
          symbology.    Pentagram tiles.    Planet frescoes.    Pyramids.
                            We have thirty minutes left, I can
                            still change the battery if we can
                            find the cannister.
          Langdon nods, but he's fascinated by the place.
          In the center of the room, there is an open fireplace, its embers
          still smoking.    The four Illuminati brands, their faces wiped
          clean, have been placed back in a molded velvet case.
          Langdon, fascinated, spots an empty slot in the very center of the
          case, surrounded by the four used brands.
          But this one's missing.
          Vittoria arrives over his shoulder, having completed a quick
          search of the place.
                                                VITTORIA   (cont'd)
                            It isn't here.
                            There's a fifth brand.
          He touches the indentation in the velvet, puzzling it out.
                            Two crossed keys.
                           The symbol for the Vatican?
                           The papacy.
                           They're going to kill him.    Before
                           they blow up the Vatican they're going
                           to kill and brand the pope himself.
                           But there is no pope.
                           Technically, there is.
                           The Camerlengo?!    We have to-
                                         MR. GRAY (O.S.)
                           Please place your gun on the floor.
          They freeze. Vittoria looks at Langdon, who nods     -- you'd better
          do it.    She does.
                                         MR. GRAY       (cont'd)
                           Now turn around.
          They turn and face Mr. Gray.    He looks quite dapper, and not too
          much the worse for wear.    There is a briefcase on the ground
          beside him, and he's changed into a fresh shirt.
                                             MR. GRAY   (cont'd)
                           Kick it to me.
          She does.    He picks it up, ejects the clip and the round in the
          chamber, pockets them, and tosses the gun into the smoldering
                           You could have been long gone by
                                         MR. GRAY
                           Some do God's work for love, others
                           for money.    Which do you take me
          As if to answer his own question, he picks up the briefcase from
          the floor beside him.    Then studies Langdon for a moment.
                                          MR. GRAY
                            You're not one of them.
                            Neither are you. I was expecting a
                                          MR. GRAY
                            When they call me -- and they all
                            call me -- it is so important to
                            them that I know what they ask is
                            the Lord's will.    Or Allah's, or
                            Yahweh's.    And I suppose they're
                            right.    Because if He were not
                            vengeful, I would not exist, would
          He picks up his briefcase.
                                              MR. GRAY (cont'd)
                            Be careful.        These are men of God.
          He turns to go.    Langdon can't help himself:
                            Why didn't you kill us when you had
                            the chancer
          Vittoria looks at Langdon like he's nuts.        Mr. Gray turns back,
          seems puzzled by the very thought.
                                          MR. GRAY
                            Because no one asked me to.
          He leaves.
          Langdon and Vittoria pause for a moment, look at each other     --
                            We've got to get to the Vatican.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          INT     PAPAL OFFICES - HALLWAY          NIGHT
          Rocher reaches the office of the Pope. Two uniformed Swiss Guard
          are stationed outside.
          Another Swiss Guardsman steps out of the office, reporting back
          from within.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           The Camerlengo says he will grant you
                           an audience.
                           I'd like to see him alone.
          The Swiss Guards look at each other.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           That's impossible, sir.    No one-
                           Have you forgotten who you work for?!
          Rocher is truly intimidating when he wants to be.
                                                SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           No,   sir.
          He nods to the other Guards, who raise their swords, allowing
                                                                        CUT TO:
          INT     SECRET PASSAGE         NIGHT
          Vittoria and Langdon barrel down the stone stairs, into the
          passage, and through the open doorway to Il Passetto.
          INT     IL PASSETTO      NIGHT
          The passetto is narrow and dark, lit only by streaks of moonlight
          coming through the vertical slits in the walls.
          But up ahead, there's light.      They race for it.
                                                                        CUT TO:
          INT     OFFICE OF THE POPE            NIGHT
          The Camerlengo kneels in prayer in front of the fire. He hears a
          sound behind him and turns as the door to the papal office opens.
          Rocher enters, closes and locks the door behind him.
                           Have you come to make me a martyr?
                                                                        CUT TO:
          INT/EXT       IL PASSETTO       NIGHT
          Vittoria and Langdon race up a flight of stairs, and the passetto
          comes out into the open for a hundred yards or so as it leaves the
          Castel Sant'Angelo.
          Ahead, they see a rope ladder over the side.        They look down.
          Directly below them, Mr. Gray is getting into an Alfa Romeo parked
          discretely at the end of a dead end street, making his escape.
          the car door SLAMS.
          IN THE CAR,
          Mr. Gray turns the key.
          Langdon and Vittoria are running toward the Vatican again when the
          EXPLOSION rips through the still night.
          They stagger and turn back, in time to see Mr. Gray's car go up in
          an enormous fireball.
                            Men of God.
          Langdon grabs her arm and they take off.        The Passetto descends
          again, into --
          INT       IL PASSETTO       NIGHT
           -- another underground space.        The outline of a steel gate
          looms ahead, blocking their way.
          But as they draw closer, they find the ancient lock hanging open,
          and the gate swings freely.    This tunnel has been used, and
          FURTHER AHEAD,
          they plow onward, and now there is a low ROARING sound from above
          them.    Langdon pauses, looks up.
                            We're under St. Peter's Square.
          They keep on.
                                                                         CUT TO:
          In the hallway outside the Pope's office, there are raised VOICES
          from behind the closed door.    Lt. Chartrand approaches
          He and the Guards look at each other, don't know what to do. From
          the other direction, Father Simeon, Cardinal Mortati's Aide,
          strides toward them.
                                          FR. SIMEON
                            I demand to speak to the Camerlengo.
          AN ANGRY SHOUT from behind the door draws their attention --what
          the hell is going on in there?
                                                                         CUT TO:
          INT      IL PASSETTO      NIGHT
          Langdon and Vittoria hit another gate, this one heavier, but it
          too is unlocked.    The sound of St. Peter's Square fades behind
          them now.
          UP AHEAD,
          they turn a corner and, without warning --- the tunnel ends.
          There is only a thick iron door, and as Langdon searches it with
          his flashlight, he finds no handle, no knob, no keyhole, no
                            Senza chiave!    A one-way portal, the
                            only access is from the other side!
          With a ROAR of anger, he starts to POUND on the door.      Vittoria
          joins in.
          CLOSE ON a watch -- 11:40.     Outside the door to the Pope's
          office, Lt. Chartrand is desperate.
          While Father Simeon attempts to argue with him in Italian,
          Chartrand turns, hearing the POUNDING coming from down the hall.
          He heads toward it, rounds a corner   --
           -- and steps into the Pope's private library, where the POUNDING
          is louder.
          He steps to a heavy door in the wall, looks unused for a century,
          but it's clearly the source of the sounds.    He looks down, sees
          three keyholes in the door, and an ancient key in each of them.
          Chartrand puts his ear to the door, hears VOICES    --
          INT     IL PASSETTO      NIGHT
           -- and, on the other side, Langdon and Vittoria squint at the
          light as the heavy door is hauled open before them.
          Chartrand looks at them in amazement    -- how'd you get here?
                           The Camerlengo is in danger!
          INT     PAPAL OFFICES - HALLWAY         NIGHT
          Chartrand, Langdon, and Vittoria round the corner and race down
          the hallway toward the Pope's office, just as --
           -- a BLOODCURDLING SCREAM comes from behind the closed doors. The
          Swiss Guard move fast, throwing open the door.
          INT      POPE'S OFFICE      NIGHT
          Langdon and the others race into the pope's office and find a
          truly bizarre scene.
          Rocher is near the fireplace, brandishing his sidearm, aimed at
          the Camerlengo, who lays on the floor, writhing in agony.
          His cassock is torn open, and his bare chest is seared black.     A
          large, square brand is on the floor at Rocher's feet.
          Two of the Swiss Guard act without hesitation    -- they open fire.
          Two bullets SLAM into Rocher's chest and he crumples.
          Father Simeon bursts into the room, and as he does the Camerlengo
          rolls over onto one side, points his index finger at Simeon, and
          cries out a single word:
                                             FR. SIMEON
                           You bastard!        You sanctimonious-
          He rushes at the Camerlengo and Chartrand reacts on instinct,
          putting three bullets in Father Simeon's back.
          He falls to the floor, dead.
          Chartrand and the Guards dash to the Camerlengo, who clutches his
          chest, convulsing in pain.
          Langdon walks toward him, stunned, as the Guards pull the
          Camerlengo's hands away from his wound, revealing the fifth brand.
          The crossed keys, seared into the flesh of his chest.
          Langdon looks at Rocher in utter disbelief. Rocher's still alive,
          trying to say something, holding out a hand.
          Everyone else in the room is focused on the Camerlengo, so Langdon
          bends down, takes the dying man's hand.
          Rocher looks up at him, desperation in his eyes, trying to
          communicate something but too weak to say more than:
                           For safety.
          And his eyes close.
          Langdon withdraws his hand from Rocher's, and finds the dying man
          has pressed something into his palm.
          A key.
          Langdon looks at it, and it gives him a thought. He turns, looks
          at the Camerlengo, whose chest is exposed.
          The crossed keys are indeed branded there      -- but they're upside
          Langdon slips the key in his pocket and approaches the Camerlengo
          as Chartrand gets to his feet, on his radio.
                           I need a Medevac to St. Peter's
                           Square, right now!
          The Camerlengo struggles to a sitting position.
                           Order the evacuation.    We only have
                           nineteen minutes.
                           The keys.    They're upside down.
                           You think it's a sign?
                           Everything has been a sign, why should
                           this be any different?
          He looks at Rocher, dead on the floor.        Back at the branded
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           Crossed keys -- the symbol for the
                           papacy, upside-down.
                           St. Peter.
                           The first pope, he was crucified
                           upside-down, on Vatican Hill.    Right
                           beneath where we're standing.
                           "Upon this rock I will build my
                           Or bring it down upon itself.
          He looks back at Rocher, and at Father Simeon, dead on the floor.
                                         LANGDON (cont'd)
                           They were conservatives, the former
                           Pope was becoming more and more
                           liberal.    Maybe they loved their
                           church so much they were willing to
                           destroy it.
                                (thinking, repeats)
                           Upon this rock I will build my church.
                           St. Peter's tomb is the very core of
                           The bomb is in St. Peter's tomb!
                                (almost admiring it)
                           The ultimate infiltration.
                              I can still change the battery if we
                                                                       CUT TO:
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
          The square is more crowded than ever, and now the helicopter.
          Chartrand called SWOOPS in low overhead as Vatican Police
          frantically try to clear a landing area.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA          NIGHT
          Langdon, Vittoria, the Camerlengo, and two Swiss Guard are
          hurrying across the deserted floor of St. Peter's Basilica when
          the lights go out.
                              The grid is still cycling -- the power
                              to this section must be down.
          They race down the center aisle, to the candlelit balustrade which
          surrounds the winding staircase into the grottoes.
                              Oil lamps.      Grab one!
          They do, and run down the center stair.
          On the staircase,
          the ninety-nine burning oil lamps throw exaggerated shadows on
          stone walls.
                              What's down here?
                              The Necropolis.    City of the dead.
          The Camerlengo drops to his knees and opens an iron grate in the
          marble floor.
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT     THE NECROPOLIS        NIGHT
          Vittoria, Langdon, the Camerlengo, and Chartrand drop down through
          an open hole and into an underground city of ancient, winding
          streets.    Part museum, part ruin, they run past ancient
          structures, some hundreds, some thousands of years old.
          The rectangular tombs are similar to little houses, complete with
          doorways, thresholds, windows, and terraces.
          AROUND A CORNER,
          the Camerlengo seems to know exactly where he's going; he leads
          them down a narrow stone passageway.
          they hurry up a small hill.    At the top of the grade, there is a
          stone grotto, toward which the Camerlengo is racing.
          He reaches the grotto, searches, but finds nothing.
          Langdon and Vittoria come to a stop behind him, breathing hard.
                             It must be here!    It must be!
          He rips aside some protective tarps, finds that underneath the
          actual burial site is an underground area, part of a dig in
          He climbs down into it, we see just the top of his head as   --
          -- a soft glow seems to emanate from beneath him.
          The Camerlengo's head is wreathed in light for a moment, and then,
          as he climbs out, we see that he's holding in his hands --
          -- the glowing canister of anti-matter.
          Vittoria drops to her knees, a tiny silver pellet in one hand, two
          wires leading from opposite ends of it.
                             Set it down flat.
          The Camerlengo does.     Langdon bends close.   Vittoria checks
          the timer.
                                           VITTORIA (cont'd)
                             We still have seven minutes.   Good.
          She leans down, reaching for the canister's baseplate.
          As she does, a drop of sweat rolls to the tip of her nose She
          Wipes the sweat away, thinking about it
                                          VITTORIA (cont'd)
                            It's hot down here.   Isn't it?
                            What's wrong?
                            Heat decreases battery life.      We may
                            have less than five minutes.
                            If I pull the power with less than
                            five minutes, the residual charge
                            won't hold suspension. We should leave
                            it and get clear if we can. At least
                            if it goes off down here the damage
                            will be-
          And with that, he snatches up the canister and takes off running,
          back the way they came.
                            Father, please!
          But he's already gone, around a darkened corner.
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
          In St. Peter's Square, the helicopter that was brought in for the
          Camerlengo waits, propellers spinning.
          The Crowd seems even bigger now, and a REPORTER tells us why:
                             -- in St. Peter's Square where,
                            despite a bomb threat and order of
                            evacuation, the crowd is actually
                            growing in size as we await --
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA           NIGHT
          The Camerlengo emerges from the spiral staircase, accidentally
          kicks over one of the oil lamps, spilling its burning oil on the
          floor of the Basilica.
          He ignores it, racing for the front doors.
          INT     THE NECROPOLIS          NIGHT
          Langdon and Vittoria come around a corner in the Necropolis,
          having taken slightly longer to find their way.
          Langdon spots the circular entry by which they first came in.
                            There it is!
          They race toward it and climb up.
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA           NIGHT
          They hurry across the floor of St. Peter's Basilica and burst out
          the huge doors that open onto St. Peter's Square, just as --
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
          -- the helicopter lifts off.
          The Crowd watches in amazement, and the PILOT stands in the
          square, talking animatedly to two Swiss Guard, gesturing toward
          the helicopter.    But if he's not flying it...
          Langdon looks up at the helicopter as it climbs, straight upward.
                            Oh my God...
          INT     HELICOPTER       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo is indeed at the controls of the helicopter,
          piloting it upwards and away from the crowd below.    The canister
          is beside him on the passenger seat.
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
          The crowd falls silent, all eyes turning upward, watching the
          helicopter recede into the clouds.
          INT     HELICOPTER       NIGHT
          The canister BEEPS on the seat beside the Camerlengo -- still a
          few minutes left on its timer, but the urgently flashing red power
          light can't be considered a good sign.
          The Camerlengo looks at it.
          Crosses himself.
          Raises the crucifix from around his neck and brushes it against
          his lips.
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE          NIGHT
          All eyes are upturned, all voices have fallen still, watching as
          the helicopter's anti-collision lights disappear into the clouded
          night sky.
          EXT     IN THE SKY       NIGHT
          High above the square, the helicopter still climbs, rotating in
          INT     HELICOPTER       NIGHT
          CLOSE ON the canister as the red light flashes even faster, and a
          shrill BEEPING fills the cockpit.
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE          NIGHT
          In the crowd, faces turn, PEOPLE point.        There's something in
          the sky above them.
          Langdon and Vittoria see it too -- a faint white speck, far up in
          the sky.    This is the explosion?
          EXT     IN THE SKY       NIGHT
          No, the faint white speck is a billowing parachute    -- and the
          Camerlengo dangles at the end of it.
          ABOVE HIM,
          the helicopter continues to climb, far up into the night.
          INT     HELICOPTER       NIGHT
          And in the canister, the BEEPING sound becomes continuous and the
          light winks out altogether.
          The shimmering bead of anti-matter falls out of suspension and
          drops, slowly, toward the bottom of the canister, it barely
          touches the surface --
          EXT     IN THE SKY         NIGHT
           -- and the helicopter explodes in a blinding pinpoint of white
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE          NIGHT
          Up in the sky over St. Peter's Square, the pinpoint of light is
          tiny at first, then it shoots out to either side in a searing
          white line, then the white line balloons out on either side,
          expanding into a gigantic ball of hot white light.
          And then the sound hits.
          THIS is the explosion, and it is so much more ferocious than we
          could have imagined.
          The entire image is bleached white, with only the faint outlines
          of people visible within it.
          And then concussive force of the blast hits, like heat waves,
          rippling everything in its way.    SCREAMING and panic.
          EXT     IN THE SKY         NIGHT
          The Camerlengo, clinging to the parachute, is buffeted wildly,
          spun over and over, tangling him in his cords, which makes him
          fall faster.
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE          NIGHT
          The second wave of the blast comes, and this one's ten times as
          powerful as the first.
          Everything standing is flattened -- PEOPLE, camera trucks, the
          fountain in the middle of the square collapses in a shower of
          marble and water.
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA         NIGHT
          Ceiling tiles fall and SMASH on the floor inside St. Peter's,
          statues topple.
          EXT     IN THE SKY         NIGHT
          The Camerlengo falls, unconscious now, tumbling over and over,
          dropping too fast. He SLAMS off an angled rooftop, headed for the
          EXT       ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
          In the square, Langdon and Vittoria dodge falling debris.
          Vittoria loses her footing as a chunk of plaster CRUNCHES off a
          building, plummeting toward her.
          Langdon pulls her to safety as the plaster PULVERIZES itself in
          the square.
          EXT      IN THE SKY       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo CRUNCHES off the side of another building and
          drifts downward, fast, toward the crowd in St. Peter's.
          His unconscious form SMASHES through a dozen people before SLAMMING
          to the ground at one edge of the square.
          the blast suddenly turns inward on itself, the heat and light and
          sound all seeming to suck back up into a perfect horizontal line,
          which then collapses in from the sides, until once again it is
          just a speck of white hot light --
           -- that disappears into the night.
          EXT      ST.    PETER'S SQUARE          NIGHT
          The only sound that remains in the square is a soft night wind.
          The wounded pick themselves up off the ground.
          The crowd, realizing the blast is over, turns its attention to the
          body of the Camerlengo, on the far side of the square.
          Langdon and Vittoria try to make their way toward him, but the
          crowd surges past them, and we soar over the heads of the crowd,
          wanting to get there first, wanting to be the first ones to see
          --- his eyes open. He's alive.
          a great CHEER rises up from the crowd.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL          NIGHT
          The CHEERS from outside are clearly audible in the Sistine Chapel,
          where the doors have been thrown open and they have gotten the
          news.    Jubilation reigns.
          A SWISS GUARDSMAN runs in, finds Cardinal Mortati.
                                          SWISS GUARDSMAN
                            Signore Mortati, he is alive!              The
                            Camerlengo is alive!
                            Praise God.
          But he looks around him -- the Cardinals have split into small
          groups, they're discussing something with great animation amongst
          Mortati watches, doesn't like what he's seeing.
                                                                                 CUT TO:
          INT     OFFICE OF THE SWISS GUARD                NIGHT
          Langdon and Vittoria, on a bench in the office of the Swiss Guard,
          are having superficial wounds treated.    The buzz in the office is
          intense, just as excited as in the square and the Sistine Chapel.
          Langdon looks over at Vittoria.
                            Are you okay?
          She looks back at him, nods. Smiles. He reaches over, interlaces
          his fingers with hers, and takes her hand.
                                                 LANGDON    (cont'd)
                            Thank God.
          She smiles, turns his hand, noticing the glass on his wristwatch
          is broken.    He notices, seems distressed.
                            Do we have time for that story now?
                            Do I have someone to tell it to?
          She smiles and kisses the back of his hand          -- yes.        A ROAR
          comes from outside and we see --
          EXT      ST.   PETER'S SQUARE           NIGHT
           -- the crowd in St. Peter's Square, in rapture. There is SINGING,
          there's CHANTING of the Camerlengo's name.    It's exactly
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
          In the Sistine Chapel, Cardinal Mortati is in hushed, urgent
          conversation with a group of seven or eight Cardinals.
                           Signores... you are no doubt aware
                           that by Holy Law the man is ineligible
                           for election to the papacy.    He is
                           not a cardinal, he is a priest, a
                           chamberlain.    And there is the
                           matter of his inadequate age.    I'm
                           sorry, the protocols of conclave are
                           not subject to modification.    I will
                           not call a ballot on this matter.
          The African Cardinal who cast his vote earlier speaks up.
                                         AFRICAN CARDINAL
                           But Signore, you would not call the
                           ballot.    Surely you remember -- you
                           gave up your post as Great Elector.
          Mortati looks at him.    Boxed into a corner.
          Outside, the crowd in St. Peter's can be heard, singing joyously.
          A SECOND CARDINAL steps forward.
                                         SECOND CARDINAL
                           They are singing in St. Peter's
                           Square!   What happened here tonight
                           transcends our laws!
                           Does it?    Is it God's will that we
                           abandon reason and give ourselves over
                           to frenzy?   Discard the rules of the
          A THIRD CARDINAL now, a peacemaker:
                                         THIRD CARDINAL
                           Perhaps they need not be discarded.
          They all look at him.
                                         THIRD CARDINAL   (cont'd)
                           I am thinking now of Romano Pontifici
                           Eligendo, Numero 63.
          Most of the Cardinals look puzzled -- but Mortati's face darkens.
                                         THIRD CARDINAL (cont'd)
                           Balloting is not the only method by
                           which a Pope can be elected.    There
                           is another, more divine method.
                           "Acclimation by Adoration."
                                             THIRD CARDINAL
                           Si, signore!
          The Second Cardinal sparks to this idea.
                                         SECOND CARDINAL
                           Of course!
                                (answering those around
                                 him who look confused)
                           Election by Adoration occurs when
                           all the cardinals, as if by
                           inspiration of the Holy Spirit,
                           freely and spontaneously,
                           unanimously and aloud, proclaim one
                           individual's name.
                                         THIRD CARDINAL
                           And the law states that Adoration
                           supersedes all other eligibility
                           requirements.    The candidate need
                           only be an ordained member of the
                                (they listen)
                           He must be present in the Sistine
                           Chapel at the moment of election.
          Many cries now of "Bring the Camerlengo to us!"
          Mortati looks deeply troubled.
                                                                     CUT TO:
          INT     ROCHER'S OFFICE      NIGHT
          Bandaged now, Langdon and Vittoria are ushered into Rocher's
          office by a Swiss Guardsman.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           Please wait here while we arrange your
                           transportation.    May I get you
          They shake their heads, no thanks.        Settle into chairs to the
          side of Rocher's desk.
          They look uncomfortable   -- it's weird to be in a dead man's
          Vittoria looks at his desk.     Thinks of something.
          She gets up and goes to it, running her hand lightly over it.
                           What are you doing?
                           Leonardo's journals.          I want them
          She feels in the surface of the desk and finds the square outline
          of the inlaid panel where Rocher hid the journals.    She tries
          prying it open, but that doesn't work, she tries pushing down on
          the front of it --
           -- and the panel slowly rotates open.    The journals, which were
          laid on top of the television monitor, slide out and onto the
          Vittoria scoops them up and is about to close the panel again
          when --
                           Wait a minute.
          He looks down at the monitor.        Thinking.
          At its odd, key-shaped on/off switch.
          He pulls something from his pocket      -- the key Rocher gave him,
          just as he died.
          IN LANGDON'S MIND,
          he sees Rocher's face, looking up at him, dying:
                           For safety.
          Langdon looks at the key, and its odd shape.    Looks down at the
          monitor, the same odd shape where its switch should be.
          IN LANGDON'S MIND,
          they're back in the Pope's office, but Rocher is alive, and saying
          words he said earlier:
                            The Holy Father was subject to
                            seizures... but he took steps.
          Rocher's voice continues over, but Langdon mouths the words as he
          remembers them:
                                          ROCHER'S VOICE (O.S.)
                            "MADE SURE HE WAS WATCHED."
          IN LANGDON'S MIND,
          Rocher is back in the office again, finishing his sentence:
                            For safety.
          Langdon holds the key up, repeating those last words:
                            For safety.
          He lowers the key to the monitor, extending it toward the keyhole
          -- and it's a perfect fit.      He twists it.
          And with a ZZZZT of power, the monitor winks to life.   An image
          comes into focus.
                            Where's that?
                   the papal office.
          On the monitor,
          they are indeed looking at an image of the Pope's office.    There
          are two dead bodies on the floor, covered with sheets, and VATICAN
          POLICE are photographing everything.    Must be live.
          Langdon's figuring it out.
                            The Pope spent a lot of time in
                            contemplation, alone.    If he was
                            worried about seizures, he must have
                            asked Rocher to install a camera
                            without telling anyone.    To keep an
                            eye on him.    For safety.    And
                            maybe --
          He reaches down to the screen, toward a touch panel at the bottom.
          You don't have to be a symbologist to understand these symbols-
          play, pause, fast forward.
          And rewind.   Langdon touches it.
          ON THE MONITOR,
          the image ZIPS backwards, rapidly, to the shooting, and the all
          the way back to when Rocher and the Camerlengo were alone
          together. Rocher stands just behind him, the Camerlengo still
          kneels before the fireplace.
          As the image starts to play forward, in real time, we go in close
          on the monitor and come out --
          INT     POPE'S OFFICE       NIGHT
          -- in the papal office, to watch the scene in person.
                            The scientist kept journals?      So?
                            You figure prominently in them.
          The Camerlengo turns his eyes back to the flames, stirring the
          embers with a poker.
                            Leonardo wasn't just a physicist, he
                            was a Catholic priest.    Deeply
                            conflicted about the implications of
                            his work and in need of spiritual
                            guidance.    About a month ago, he
                            requested an audience with the Pope.
                            But you'd know that, because you
                            granted the audience, and were present
                            during it.
          The Camerlengo twists the poker in the fire.     Speaks softly.
                           The fool thought he had duplicated the
                           moment of creation.
                           And the Holy Father urged him to go
                           public.    His Holiness thought the
                           discovery might actually prove the
                           existence of a divine power -- begin
                           to bridge the gap between religion and
                           Science.    The new God.    Ignore the
                           weapons and chaos and madness.
          The Camerlengo looks up at him, and his expression is different
          than we've ever seen it.    Contemptuous.    Angry.    Violent.
                                         CAMERLENGO (cont'd)
                           His work was not religious, it was
                           But you saw the Pope's position as a
                           softening of church law.    An old
                           man's weakness.    Your father's
                           He raised me to protect the church.
                           Even from within.
                           So you brought an old enemy back from
                           the dead to frighten people.
                           Nothing unites hearts like the
                           presence of evil.
                           It didn't work, Father.
                           It isn't finished.
                           I've informed Father Simeon of what I
                           learned and he'll get word to the
                           Cardinals the moment conclave opens.
          The Camerlengo looks at him calmly for a moment   --
                            I was planning on doing this alone.
           -- and then removes the poker from the fire. But it isn't a
          poker, it's a long-handled brand, with a cross of some kind at the
          Rocher pulls his gun, holds it at his side.
                            Put that down.
          The Camerlengo rips open his cassock with his free hand.
                            But perhaps it's better that you're
                                 (raising the gun)
                            Put it down!
          But the Camerlengo RAMS the red-hot brand into the exposed flesh
          of his bare chest.    His skin SIZZLES and smokes, Rocher SHOUTS,
          the Camerlengo SCREAMS in agony, and we know the rest --
           -- the door bursts open, Swiss Guard pour in, Rocher is shot,
          Father Simeon races toward the Camerlengo --
                                             FR. SIMEON
                            You bastard!       You sanctimonious-
           -- and the Camerlengo rolls over, pointing one long finger at
          Father Simeon and CRYING OUT:
          As we saw before, Lt. Chartrand FIRES THREE TIMES, killing Father
          Simeon in his tracks, we pull back, the image turns to --
          INT      ROCHER'S OFFICE      NIGHT
           -- video again, and as we complete the move out from the monitor,
          we see it isn't Langdon and Vittoria watching the image this time --
          --- but Cardinal Mortati, flanked by two other red-robed Cardinals
          and a half-dozen Swiss Guardsman.
          Langdon and Vittoria stand to one side as Mortati turns and looks
          at them.    Suddenly, he seems very, very old.
                                                                      CUT TO:
          INT     GRAND STAIRCASE       NIGHT
          The Camerlengo, escorted by two Swiss Guardsman, descends the
          Royal Staircase that leads to the Sistine Chapel.
          Though he is injured and limping, he radiates confidence, even
          benevolence, a man certain this is the greatest day of his life.
          He approaches the chapel doors, speaks to the Swiss Guard posted
          there as he approaches.
                           I have been summoned by the College of
          Oh, they know all about it.    They lift their swords, the doors
          sweep open, the Camerlengo strides boldly across the threshold --
          INT     SISTINE CHAPEL       NIGHT
           -- and stops, right there, the look of imminent ascendancy frozen
          on his face.
          The Cardinals are looking at him, all right, but not in joy, not
          in wonder, not for leadership.    One hundred sixty-one faces are
          turned toward his, with an expression of ---
          -- utter condemnation.
          He stands there for a moment, searching their faces, trying to
          figure out what could possibly have happened.
          But it doesn't matter.
          They know.   And he knows they know.
          He takes two steps backwards, almost involuntarily.
          Starts to teeter, balances himself in the doorway.
          Then straightens himself, smoothes his cassock.
          And turns and walks away, back up the staircase.
          Two Swiss Guard move to go after him, quickly, but Cardinal
          Mortati gestures to them.
                           Gently.    But within our walls.
          The Swiss Guard follow the Camerlengo up the staircase.
                                                                        CUT TO:
          INT      ST.   PETER'S BASILICA      NIGHT
          The Camerlengo comes out of a doorway and into St. Peter's
          Basilica.    He heads for the main doors --
           -- just as HALF A DOZEN SWISS GUARD step in from outside,
          blocking his way.    Some MURMUR softly into their radios.
          He stops, turns around to come back the way he came ---
           -- but TWO SWISS GUARD appear in that doorway, also with radios.
          He turns again, no way to go but toward the front of the Basilica.
          He sees the candlelit balustrade near the front, the one that
          leads to the grottoes and the Necropolis.    He picks up his pace.
          The Swiss Guard follow, at a slight distance.
          The Camerlengo reaches the spiral staircase and stops, looking
          down, seeing the oil lamp he kicked over earlier.
          He thinks.     He picks up a fresh lamp, holds it to his face    --
           -- and blows out its flame with a soft PUFF.
          we're with the Swiss Guard as they walk slowly toward him.
          But they hear a CRY from ahead, he's gone down the stairs a short
          distance, and they can hear the sound of liquid SLOSHING.
          They break into a run as they realize what he's about to do,
          they're twenty feet away, then ten, then just close enough to see
          the Camerlengo as he --
           -- SMASHES a burning oil lamp at his feet.     The flames leap
          onto his oil-soaked clothes and --
                                                                       CUT TO:
          INT      SISTINE CHAPEL      NIGHT
          CLOSE ON a bundle of one hundred sixty-one slips of paper, pierced
          by a needle and strung together.
          They're tossed into the fireplace in the Sistine Chapel, where
          they too burst into flame.
          We rise up again, ahead of the smoke this time, all the way up to      --
          EXT     ST.    PETER'S SQUARE          DAWN
           -- the chimney above St. Peter's Square, where the throng is
          still gathered, waiting for some word as the sun rises on the
          horizon. And this time, the smoke that billows from the chimney    --
          -- is white.
          There is a new pope.    The crowd ROARS its approval, BELLS begin
          to toll --
          INT     PAPAL APARTMENT          DAY
           -- the red silk sash covering the doors to the papal apartment is
          SLICED apart --
          -- the wax seal BREAKS as the doors are flung open, and we   --
                                                                DISSOLVE TO:
          EXT     ST.    PETER'S SQUARE DAY
           -- St. Peter's Square, later the same day. The Crowd, if you can
          believe it, is even bigger.
          A STRING OF REPORTERS fills us in for the last time (non-English
          speakers subtitled).
                                          BBC REPORTER
                            Church sources now confirm that
                            Camerlengo Father Sebastian Guttierez
                            has died of internal injuries
                            sustained in his heroic fall --
                                          BRAZILIAN REPORTER
                             -- which has spurred calls for his
                            immediate canonization and sainthood.
                            The Vatican also announced the death
                            of three of its cardinals in the fire
                            at Santa Maria Delia Vittoria --
                                          AMERICAN REPORTER
                             -- but all eyes here are on the papal
                            balcony as we await the appearance of
                            the new Holy Father, who, despite
                            terrorist attempts at disruption --
          We move off the Reporter and up, toward the papal balcony, its
          doors hanging open, curtains billowing.
                                         AMERICAN REPORTER (cont'd)
                            -- seems to have been selected in one
                           of the swiftest and smoothest
                           conclaves in modern church history.
                                                                   DISSOLVE TO:
          Inside the papal apartments, Robert Langdon sits stiffly on a
          straight-backed chair in a hallway.    Couldn't look more
          uncomfortable if he tried.
          A Swiss Guardsman stands on either side of him.
          The door to his right suddenly opens, another Guardsman nods to
          him, and Langdon gets to his feet, straightening his jacket.
          Langdon is shown into the office, where a robed figure is being
          dressed by two VATICAN ATTENDANTS -- the clothes he dons are
          unmistakably papal vestments.    The figure, his back to us,
          gestures to a nearby table.
          One of the Swiss Guardsmen goes to the table and picks up an
          envelope, hands it to Langdon.
                                         SWISS GUARDSMAN
                           A token of thanks from His Holiness.
          Langdon, puzzled, opens the envelope and lets the contents fall
          into his hand.
          It's a thin volume, but a familiar one -- the only surviving copy
          of Galileo's Diagramma.    Langdon nearly GASPS.
          The figure in the papal robes turn around.       It is, of course,
          Cardinal Mortati.
                           This should help you complete your
                           scholarly work, Professor.
          Langdon is too stunned to speak,
                                         MORTATI   (cont'd)
                           I ask only that in your last will and
                           testament you ensure it finds its way
                           I   -- yes, I   -- of course.
          Mortati takes a few steps forward, studying Langdon,
                           When you write of us -- and you will
                           write of us -- may I ask one thing?
          Langdon looks at him questioningly.
                                              MORTATI   (cont'd)
                           Do so gently?
                           I'll try.
                           Religion is flawed, Mr. Langdon, but
                           only because man is flawed.
                           Including this one.
          He touches his chest lightly.
          The Aides now pick up the miter, the spade-shaped papal hat.   He
          stands still while they place it on his head, completing his
                           I hear you've chosen the name Luke.
                           There have been Marks and Johns, but
                           never a Luke.
                           It's said he was a doctor.
                           Is that a message?    Science and
                           faith all in one?
                           The world is in need of both.
                           Science can heal, or science can kill.
                           It depends on the soul of the man
                           using the science.
          Langdon looks at him.   Likes the sound of that.
                           You'll lead wisely.
                           I'm an old man.    I'll lead briefly,
          Mortati comes closer to Langdon, raises his right hand, and makes
          a gentle sign of the cross over him, murmuring softly.
                                         MORTATI (cont'd)
                           Thanks be to God, for sending someone
                           to protect His church.
                           I -- don't believe He sent me,
                           Oh, my son...
          He smiles.
                                         MORTATI (cont'd)
                           Of course He did.
          He turns, and his Aides part the billowing silk curtains that lead
          to the papal balcony.
          We move forward with him as he steps out over St. Peter's Square
          and a great ROAR rises up from below.
          Cardinal Mortati, Pope Luke I, holds his arms out to his sides, an
          embrace to take in the world --
           -- and behind him, hidden in the shadows of the papal apartment,
          just behind the billowing curtains, Robert Langdon folds his hand
          in front of him --
          -- and bows his head.
                                          THE END

Angels & Demons

Writers :   David Koepp  Akiva Goldsman
Genres :   Drama  Mystery  Thriller

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