(An apartment building in Washington. A car wildly turns the corner
outside and, with screeching tires, pulls into the parking garage. Inside
is a room decorated with flowers and statuettes. Two Bulgarian KGB agents
are in the middle of a chess game. One agent moves a chess piece, concentrating.
Just then, the door opens and Viktor storms in, not even pausing to look
Viktor: Hurry. They are coming. (The two agents jump up and follow behind him to a little table. Viktor opens a cupboard.) Burn the papers.
(He slides open the false bottom and takes out a big armload of papers. He hands them to the first agent and gets some more. The agent pulls out a computer disc and hands it to Viktor.)
Agent: The code, Viktor.
(Viktor takes it and runs to a little cupboard near the floor.)
Viktor: Quickly. First the code, then the papers. (He opens the cupboard. Inside is a furnace. He opens the door in the furnace.) They must not be found. (He tosses in the disc and looks up at the agent.) You're armed?
Agent: I am, Viktor.
Viktor: Then you know what to do. (He stands. The agent walks over to the furnace and begins feeding the papers in.) Come.
(The other man runs after Viktor. They leave the room, closing the door behind them. The first agent stays to burn the papers. Outside, Viktor's car pulls off and speeds down the street with loud, screeching tires. Almost immediately after, Lee's Porsche pulls up from the other direction, followed by two Agency cars. Lee stops and gets out. At the same time, Francine gets out of a different car and David Benson gets out of the last one. Lee and Francine run up to him while Lee shouts to another agent, Ronny Kwan, behind Francine's car.)
Lee: All right. Ronny, take the garage and elevator, Francine, stairwell, come on, Nick*.
(The three run around the corner to the door. Ronny goes inside to the parking garage. As they do so, a dark limo slowly pulls up to watch.)
(Inside, the agent is frantically trying to get rid of the papers before the Feds reach him. Out in the hall, the elevator door opens and Lee and Benson cautiously step out, their guns up. In the room, The agent is finished. He presses the button to turn on the furnace. Suddenly, the papers catch fire. Satisfied, the agent shuts the furnace door.)
(In the parking garage, Ronny is standing with a rifle, ready. he
cocks it. On the stairwell, Francine lifts a walkie-talkie and speaks into
Francine: Scarecrow, Nightlight?
(In the building, Lee speaks into his radio. He and Benson are standing outside Viktor's room.)
Francine: Stairwell secure.
Lee: Check. Go, are you reading?
Ronny: Go here, Scarecrow. Garage secure.
Lee: Check. Scarecrow and Nightlight moving in. (He tucks his radio into his pocket and looks at Benson, who is listening through the room door.) You have any idea how to say "Freeze" in Bulgarian?
Benson: Not a clue. (Lee nods. Benson stands beside him. They both point their pistols at the door.) One, two, three!
(At the same instant, they both kick the doors in and burst into the room.)
Lee: All right!
Benson: Hold it!
(He fires. The KGB agent clutches his stomach and falls to the floor. Lee sidles up to David. They both look at the body.)
Lee: That's the wrong guy, Davey. That's not Viktor.
(Benson looks at him while Lee pants heavily. Benson glances around, then looks down at Reilly, worried.)
(A little later, an ambulance and two police cars are parked outside
the building, their lights and sirens going. Lee, Francine, Ronny, and
Benson exit from the garage.)
Ronny: All I'm saying is, it's not the total end of the world. A busted play, it happens.
Francine: It's more than that, Ronny, and we all know it.
Benson: Yeah, it happens, Ronny.
(Lee stops and angrily turns to face him.)
Lee: Not three times. Not in our section.
(The agents scatter to their cars as the cops run up. Lee slams the door to his Porsche and drives away. The dark limo that pulled up earlier follows after Lee. Lee is driving down the street, listening to the radio.)
Announcer: The weather for the Washington, D.C. area is generally pretty good. We may have some snow a little later on in the week, coming up from the Great Lakes area. On a more serious note, the budget was --
(Suddenly the weather report gets interrupted. Lee looks up.)
Blue Leader: Scarecrow, this is Blue Leader. (Lee fiddles with the knobs and buttons on the radio, but nothing happens.) You may respond, we're on a secure frequency, Scarecrow. (Lee looks in the sideview mirror and sees the limo. He gives up trying to change stations.) What happened to Viktor Ignatia? (Lee sighs nervously and tries to gather his courage.) I gather from your silence that the mission was once again a failure.
Lee: Uh, yes, sir, uh . . . (he clears his throat) he was -- he was gone.
Blue Leader: Scarecrow, again, for the third time, a man comes in and out of this country illegally. Seemingly at will. The first time we missed him, he was leaving with the Godiva papers. And then, last year, he got by us again, it was with the Gdansic (?) formula. The man is a peril to national security. You realize that he gives his best information directly to the Polit bureau.
Lee: Yes, sir, yes, sir, I know that, but -- but nailing him is trying to -- trying to catch a handful of smoke.
Blue Leader: Scarecrow, what we have here is not a series of "accidents." We have a traitor, a mole. Let's find that person. More specifically, you must find that person.
Lee: Pardon me, sir, but I think short-circuiting Billy Melrose would be --
Blue Leader: Let me make it clear. Everyone in field section is suspected. Scarecrow, you are the only one who was not a party to the two former attempts to stop Viktor. In the Mid-East in '81, Norway in '83.
Lee: Blue Leader, excuse me, but I don't think I am your man. Internal investigation's just not my thing.
Blue Leader: It is precisely "your thing." You're the leader of a failed mission tonight. I can expect you to redeem yourself. Blue Leader out.
Announcer: It's Crazy Larry, out here in the Washington, D.C. area --
(Lee shuts the radio off. The limo behind him turns off the street and disappears. Lee, frustrated, hits the steering wheel.)
(Next day at Nedlinger's Pub, a hangout for the spies. The four agents
from the recent mission are sitting together at the bar.)
Francine: All right, so you say Billy was a little ticked this morning. But I really was not ducking that meeting! I had all those cables from Cuban station to get up to Crypto.
Benson: Yeah, right, and I'm Pope Leo.
Lee: Look, I have really had it with this whole Bulgarian number, okay? Now, the next guy who mentions Viktor or what Billy said is going to be wearing this bowl of chili, you got it?
Ronny: Hey, your way, babe.
(He takes his coffee and walks away. Francine looks from him to Benson.)
Benson: You're right. I'm leaving. (He stands.) Watch my feet, see? Definite movement here.
(Francine follows after Ronny.)
Lee: Get out of here.
(Benson departs, leaving Lee alone to think. He wipes off his hands. Behind him, his friends join at a table. The front door opens and Amanda steps in. She walks over to Lee and sits beside him. He looks up.)
Amanda: Hello. I've been calling the Agency all morning, trying to find you. Finally, Mr. Melrose suggested that you might be here.
Lee (confused): What?
Amanda (whispering): I've got the film.
(She starts digging through her purse.)
Lee: The film?
Amanda: Yes. (Lee shakes his head and stares at her as if to say, "What film?") Don't you remember when you had to do that surveillance job and it was such a rushed-up thing and -- and you asked me if you could borrow my station wagon because your car was so conspicuous? Well, you left your film in it. Phillip found it. He was playing with it, but lucky for us, Mother saw him before he started for school, and she asked him what he was doing, so . . . (she takes a package of film out of her purse and sets It on the bar.) here it is.
Lee: Amanda. This film -- (he holds it up. She shoves his arm down. Lee sighs.) This film is a roll of test stuff that I ran through the camera to see if the take-up roll was working okay after they fixed it.
(Amanda looks down, then back up at him, embarrassed.)
(Lee nods. Suddenly, Benson's voice behind Lee causes them to look up.)
Benson: Now, no prompting. It was Paris, spring of '81, or Athens, '82, you were wearing your bright red dress. Or I guess it was just last week at the plain, old Agency, you were standing next to plain, old Lee Stetson.
Lee: Plain, old Lee.
(Benson stretches out his hand to shake Amanda's.)
Benson: Mrs. King, I do believe? (Amanda takes his hand, grinning.) David Benson, your eternal servant.
Amanda: Hello. You have a very good memory.
Lee (under his breath): No, just great taste.
Benson: No, just great taste.
(Amanda hides a smile by looking at her drink. Lee, annoyed, turns to look at Benson.)
Lee: Uh, Davey, isn't your ice melting over there?
Benson: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you two had anything personal going on --
Lee: Hold it, hold it, there's nothing personal between Amanda and me.
Amanda: That's right, it's, uh, business, just business.
Lee: That's right, that's all it is, it's just business.
Benson: All right, then. So, since I don't want to rush things, what do you say to a little lunch where we can talk about having dinner tonight?
Lee (quietly): Just hold it, will ya? I don't think any of us should be making any plans, and not just now.
(Amanda's smile quickly disappears as she wonders why.)
Benson: You're talking about the Viktor thing. You want to hear my slant on Viktor?
Lee: Will you hold it? Amanda is not involved in that.
Amanda: Wait, excuse me, what is -- what does that mean? What -- ?
Benson: Well, it's my hunch that there's going to be an intrusion in the week and someone --
Amanda (simultaneously): Look, I don't mean to by prying, but --
Amanda: Excuse me, I don't mean to be prying, but --
Benson (whispering): -- and someone near and dear to us is going to draw the short straw in the duty. Informer. It's got to be the crumb job of all time, right?
(He flashes a joking grin at Lee, who does not react in the same way.)
Lee: Right. Real crumb job.
(He chuckles half-heartedly and looks at Amanda. Benson pats him on the back and holds his hand out to Amanda.)
Benson: Shall we?
(Lee stares at Benson's hand. Amanda smiles at the invitation.)
(IFF, conference room. Billy is walking around the table, briefing
the agents, including Ronny, Francine, Benson, standing behind her, and
Lee, leaning against the wall.)
Billy: And what we should be concerned about is that everything that Viktor learns is pipelined right to Moscow.
Francine: We know, Billy.
Benson: What could we say after we said we're sorry, Billy? We're as shook up as you are.
(Billy stops at the head of the table and faces the room. Behind him, on the chalkboard, is the word "VIKTOR.")
Billy: Well, you're about to be a little more shook up. I want reports on the Viktor operation. I don't mean the kind of garbage that you people hand in that are supposed to pass for expense vouchers. I mean report report.
(Ronny shakes his head and groans.)
Ronny: Oh, no.
Billy: And I want them all the way back to '81. And I want them complete!
(Lee sighs and shakes his head.)
Benson: Neatness and originality to count for fifty percent?
Billy: Stow it, Benson. I've got a slot open in Finland next December. Keep that in mind, in case you get a good deal on snow tires? (The agents giggle. Billy turns to the rest of the room, dead serious.) I want them typed so that I can read them and I want them fast. You have till next Friday.
(Amid all the agents groans, an elderly agent across the table, Walter Reilly, raises his hand.)
Reilly: Mr. Melrose. I don't think I need remind you that I have nine days, six hours, and, uh, (he takes out his pocketwatch and looks at it.) twenty minutes remaining on my service to this agency, not to speak of which I have been asked to leave my desk for the past six months. Do I consider myself exempt from your little essay?
Billy: No exemptions, Humbug.
Reilly: Oh, well, now, fine. Fine, fine. Mine may be a bit long and rambling. Senility does that, you know, but it will nevertheless be a sharp and penetrating look on the whole business. A view from behind the desk, so to speak. And toward the water cooler, the men's room.
(The agents, except for Billy, all laugh.)
Billy: Swell. (He walks over and opens the door.) That's right, just keep up the laughing. Because that's exactly what the East Block countries are doing right now. At you. (Still laughing, the agents all get up and walk out of the room. Lee walks up to the door, but Billy nods to him.) Hang in a moment. (Lee sighs and leans up against the wall. When Reilly, the last one, walks out, Billy closes the door and approaches him.) Scarecrow, I am particularly interested in your report. Uh, you're new on this one. Maybe you'll have a different slant on this one. It could be important. (Lee stares at him.) To tell the truth, I am about this far (he shows with his fingers) from a phone call from Blue Leader. And we both know how heavy that can be, don't we?
(Lee sighs as if to say, "Don't even go there.")
Lee: Oh, Blue Leader?
Billy: Never mind, never mind, forget it. I mean, since when does a top man talk to field agents? (Lee nods and looks down.) Anyway, you heard me tell the others that they've got till Friday to turn their reports in. I want yours by Wednesday.
(Lee looks up.)
Billy: You got it.
Lee: Come on, Billy.
Billy: And since I've seen your typing, I think you need to look for some help. And not from the Steno pool. We need someone with a grade-10 security certification.
Lee: Oh, sure. And a small miracle.
Billy: It so happens I might have one for you. (Lee looks up.) How's ninety words a minute and security clearance, for openers?
(Lee sighs and looks away.)
(The Smithsonian Institute. Lee is walking with someone, who is hidden
by a giant mastodon skeleton.)
Lee: Billy suggested you. You do type ninety words a minute, right?
Amanda: Oh, yes. Ninety words a minute, if you don't count mistakes. Billy's idea, huh?
Lee: Billy's idea, all the way.
Amanda: Well, that's just fine, just please thank him for me.
Lee: I will do. (They stop and look up at the mastodon.) Boy, this guy looks like he came in second in a Godzilla movie.
Amanda: Yeah. They had a very poor school lunch program in those days. (Lee laughs. Amanda looks at the brochure in her hands.) Oh, there's an interesting one over here.
(She walks away. Lee looks after her.)
Lee: Uh --
(He walks after her. She stops at another skeleton. Lee comes up behind her.)
Amanda: Now, look at this. You see, the saber-toothed tiger probably ambushed the larger and slower animals --
Amanda: -- such as ground sloth and young mammals --
Lee: Amanda, let's skip the tour, huh? There's something I want to talk to you about.
Amanda: Oh, you don't like the saber-toothed tiger either, huh?
Lee: To tell you the truth, not at all. I'm not into overbite. (He indicates the huge fangs protruding from the jawbone. Then he turns to Amanda.) That's not why I brought you here.
Amanda: No. Not for the dinosaurs, either.
Lee: No, not the dinosaurs, either. It's a mole. Amanda, it looks like --
(Through this whole bit, Amanda pantomimes with her hands.)
Amanda: No, wait, wait, I know what a mole looks like. We had one in our garden, it ate all our carrots.
Lee: No, no, Amanda --
Amanda: It's all right, I understand. It ate the carrots from underground so that everything looked fine on the top.
Lee: No, I don't think you do understand!
Amanda: All the green leafy stalks stood up and everything looked healthy and pretty, but when you tried to pick the carrots, you could grab it by the stalk, pull it up, and there was no carrot on the bottom --
(Lee grabs her arm and pulls her along.)
Lee: Whoa! Whoa, Amanda.
Amanda: -- because the mole had eaten all of the carrots --
Lee: It's another kind of mole, all right?
Amanda: All right.
Lee: This kind is a traitor.
(Amanda finally understands.)
Lee: Yes. Someone who's working from inside, a spy in the Agency.
Amanda: Ooh, that's a lot worse.
Lee: Yeah, a lot.
Lee: Someone's been tipping off this Bulgarian agent named Viktor. Every time we're about to drop the net on him.
Lee: So my boss, Blue Leader, has dropped the whole investigation into my lap.
Amanda: Ooh. That's a lot of responsibility, he must have a great deal of confidence in you.
Lee (sarcastically): Oh, yeah, it's a great honor. (They stop by a display and face each other.) So, since I'm going to be digging into the lives of everyone in the field unit, I need someone that I can absolutely trust to help me.
(Amanda smiles, flattered.)
Amanda: Do you mean me?
(Lee grins, charmingly.)
Lee: Mm, I mean you.
(Amanda smiles, then her smile fades and she looks down.)
Amanda: Oh, it was Billy's idea.
(Amanda smiles, flattered again.)
Amanda: Oh, well.
Lee: Look. You are the only one outside of the Agency that has a grade-10 security clearance.
(Amanda's smile fades again as she gets it.)
Amanda: Oh. (They resume their walking.) These, um, other agents. Aren't they friends of yours?
(Lee chuckles sarcastically.)
Lee: Until they find out we're digging into their bank statements, their income tax filings, doctors' reports, oh, all sorts of that good stuff.
Amanda: Is this the crumb job you and David were talking about?
Lee: Yeah. Look, we can't tell anybody about this.
Amanda: Why not?
Lee: Everyone is a suspect.
Amanda: Even Mr. Melrose?
Lee: For one, yeah.
Lee: He's been using that pay phone around the corner. A lot of outside calls to somebody. Francine's been skipping meetings and acting weird and Humbug's a very, very bitter man.
(Amanda sits on a bench.)
Amanda: And Benson Benson's a suspect.
Lee: You got it.
Amanda: I have a date with a suspect. (She shakes her head.) How am I going to get out of it?
Lee: Well, uh . . . are you sure you want to?
Lee: I thought you bought that line of his all the way.
(Amanda folds her arms.)
Amanda: You thought what?
(Lee looks at her, then looks up and imitates Benson.) Lee: Was it Paris in the springtime, or was it Athens? You were wearing red.
Amanda: Oh, really.
Lee: Oh, that's stuff that women go for.
(Amanda leaps up and looks Lee in the eye.)
Amanda: "Go for"?! He asked me to lunch, it was a simple lunch invitation, that's all it was, and you're making it sound like it --
Lee: Hey, hey, hey. You want to go out with a guy that's got more scalps on his belt than Geronimo, you be my guest.
Amanda: If you didn't want me to go, all you had to do was say, "No, don't go."
Lee: Oh, sure, oh, sure, and sound like I was j-- (He stops. Amanda stares with her mouth open. Lee tries it from a different approach.) Look, Amanda.
Lee: What I am trying to say is, w-we're not, you know, emotionally involved.
Amanda: I know that!
Lee: Or anything like that.
Amanda: Well, of course not! And I think I should go out with him, I should use it as a fact-finding survey, I mean, I -- I really think I can probably find out much more about him by -- by talking to him than, uh, looking in his bank statements.
Lee: I suppose.
(He looks away.)
Amanda: Well, what should I do?
Lee: Hey, it's your own personal time.
(Amanda stares at him for a moment, silently.)
Amanda: Is it a yes or a no?
(Lee looks at her, then away, avoiding the answer.)
Lee: Yeah. . . . Well --
Amanda: Yeah, well, I think I will.
(Lee faces her. They are both annoyed at the other.)
Lee: All right.
Amanda: I'm going on a date with David Benson.
Amanda: Mm-hmm. Yeah. Right.
Amanda: Good, I'm happy.
(He looks away.)
Amanda: I'll see you tomorrow.
(She starts to walk away. Lee calls over his shoulder.)
Lee: But it was your decision.
(She whirls around and smiles curtly at him, then walks away.)
(That evening. The front door to Amanda's house opens and Amanda
walks out in a fancy dress and a fur stole. Benson walks out after her.
She stops and looks at his red European sports car.)
Amanda: Oh, that's gorgeous. Is it new?
(Benson shuts the door and they both walk to the car.)
Benson: Oh, about six months. Just after the divorce. Any sooner, it would now be parked outside 221 Orchard Street, apartment 2, Arlington, Virginia.
Benson: But leave us not cry over spilled marriage. What kind of food would you like? Polynesian? French? Italian, Afghan, Swedish, you name it, you got it.
(He opens the passenger door to the car.)
Amanda: Wait a minute, you mean you don't have the place already picked out? I thought you did when you told me that I should dress for dinner.
Benson: No. But leave us not consider expense, for expense is no trouble to the truly creative.
Amanda: All right.
(She gets into the car. Benson leans in the open door.)
Benson: Are you in?
(He shuts her door and walks around to his. He swings it opens, gets in, and starts up the engine. The headlights flip up and they're off.)
(At a fancy party, they are a walking around the dessert buffet.)
Benson: Or the lemon soufflé, or chocolate mousse? (Amanda giggles.) I can recommend the baked Alaska.
(Benson indicates a French man handing a drink to a dignified customer.)
Benson: Or I can get Marcel to whip up some crêpes if you like.
Amanda: No, thank you.
(Benson slips his hand around her and nods to the customer accepting a drink.)
Benson: Good evening. (He and Amanda squeeze by the Frenchman. Benson looks at her.) Après-vous, Mademoiselle?
Amanda: Thank you.
Benson: Did you, uh, recognize the senator?
Amanda: Senator, where?
(Benson points to the customer that just walked away.)
Benson: We just passed him.
Amanda: Oh, you mean the man who smiled at you?
Benson: Oh, you smile, they smile back, everybody thinks you belong. (Amanda laughs.) Are you sure you don't want some dessert?
Amanda: I couldn't possibly.
(They pass a wealthy couple.)
Benson: Good evening. Evening. A lovely party.
Man: Thank you.
Benson (to Amanda): Why don't we go to the bar and have a drink?
Amanda: All right.
(Benson leads her to the bar. They lean on it, facing each other.)
Benson: Not used to the fast track, huh?
Amanda: Well, not this fast, I mean, uh, I'm more the PTA, lunch, and potluck-at-the-church type. (Their drinks come. They take them.) I warned you.
Benson: Yeah, well, you warned me, Amanda, but I think it was a little late. I was already, um, zapped.
Benson (softly): Zapped.
(Amanda titters nervously and changes the subject, avoiding Benson's loving eyes on her.)
Amanda: Well, what did you mean when you said that you just smile and then everybody thinks you belong. Don't you belong?
(Benson glances around, then leans in.)
Benson: Amanda, I'm an Agency type. We don't get invited to these things. What I do is I check with the caterers, I know most of them, and I find out where the parties are going that night, who's hosting, then I pick one.
Amanda: And it works?
Benson: Oh, yeah.
Amanda: Do you do this every night?
Benson: No, no. A couple of nights a week, I'll get something at the Steak-O-Bob. Or I'll put the TV dinner in the microwave. You know, when an agent pulls down a salary per month, you've got to learn to live on the cheap. There. You know all my secrets. I hope I haven't blown my image.
(Amanda smiles and shakes her head.)
Amanda: Mm, no. Really, no, you haven't.
(They both smile and clink champagne glasses.)
(Next day, IFF. Billy is walking around all the desks, shouting.
All the agents are watching.)
Billy: So I want it stopped! There are enough rumors going around here as it is, without . . . without. . . .
Reilly: Without adding grist to the mill.
Billy: Without adding grist to the mill! Now, nobody is being transferred, nobody is being fired, and as far as I know, nobody is being investigated! So let's just stop this . . . this. . . .
Billy: Right. Paranoia. Okay. Let's get back to those reports.
(Billy stops and walks away to Amanda waiting in the doorway. The agents resume whatever they were doing.)
Amanda: Hello, sir.
Billy: Are you doing, uh, Scarecrow's report?
(Amanda looks at the papers in her arms.)
Amanda: Uh . . . well, uh, you could --
Billy: Good. On my desk, five o'clock.
(He points to his watch.)
(He walks away. Amanda still stands there, sighs, then looks up as Lee walks over to her. She walks up to him.)
Lee: Oh, my typing?
(They start walking over to Lee's desk.)
Amanda: Uh, yes.
Lee: Don't act so mysterious.
Amanda: I'm trying not to, but it's just that I feel a little funny. Mr. Melrose is the head of field section and he asked me a direct question and although I didn't really lie to him --
Lee: Amanda, what are these?
(He points to a bunch of envelopes in Amanda's hand.)
Amanda: These are the bank statements you asked me to check. I feel very strange about all this --
Lee: Bank statements, what bank statements?
Amanda: Um, the man you called "Go."
Lee: Kwan, Ronny Kwan.
(Lee reads it, then comes to something.)
Lee (loudly): Forty thousand dol--!
Amanda: Shh! (Lee straightens up.) That's one deposit.
Lee: I've got to get to Ronny right away.
(Lee runs away, the bank statements in his hand. Amanda watches him go.)
(Horse stables. Ronny is sitting on a bench, watching a girl practice
jumping hurdles on a dark brown horse. Ronny checks his watch. Behind him,
Viktor shows up, holding a briefcase in front of one hand.)
Viktor: Please don't turn around, Mr. Kwan.
(Ronny doesn't, but as he talks, he slowly reaches into his jacket.)
Ronny: You the guy who phoned with the tip on the Bulgarian thing?
Viktor: Even better.
(Ronny pulls his gun out and whirls around, but Viktor, ready, fires with the gun hidden behind the briefcase. Ronny collapses back on the bench. Satisfied, Viktor walks away.)
(That evening, IFF. Lee, Francine, Benson, and Reilly are sitting
around drinking coffee. Reilly is carrying a bottle of wine.)
Lee: What the hell was Ronny doing at a riding arena? I mean, what got him there, who called him? It had to be Viktor. I'm telling you, it had to be.
Francine: But why would Ronny go alone? I mean, that's basic, isn't it? You learn that rule your first week on service.
Reilly (slurring slightly): And break it regularly thereafter.
Benson: It had to be somebody he trusted. Go wouldn't have put himself out on the limb like that unless he trusted the guy!
Reilly: Or a girl. (Francine looks up at him. He smiles.) Present company excepted, of course.
Benson: Why? (Everybody looks at him. He focuses on Francine.) I mean, you haven't been around that much lately, Francine. What's a fella to think?
(Reilly pours himself another drink.)
Francine: You think I did it? You actually think I killed Ronny Kwan?
Reilly: He didn't mean it, Francine.
Francine: Well, he said it! You don't say something unless you mean it!
Benson: I got to split, Lee. (to Francine:) This hit pretty close. That was my partner and it could have been me. (Francine just stares at him. Lee takes a step closer.) Let's stop taking shots at each other, okay? I'm sorry, Francine. (Francine looks down. Benson looks over at Lee.) Just remember, Lee, the rest of us feel the same way you do.
Lee (quietly): Yeah.
Benson: We'll get Viktor. I know we will. (Lee looks up and smiles. Benson turns to Reilly.) Goodnight, Reilly.
(Reilly raises his cup. Benson picks up his coat and leaves. Francine closes her binder and stands up.)
Francine: I really was busy when Billy had those meetings. They dropped a whole load of cable traffic on me for the Rio station.
(She looks down.)
Lee: Why don't you go on home get some rest, huh?
(Francine looks up at him.)
Francine: Oh, yeah, sure. Lots of luck. See you two tomorrow.
(She walks around to the door, ignoring Reilly's slurred parting comment, which gets louder as Francine walks out the door.)
Reilly: Him you'll see tomorrow. The government would like you to know that among the aged, there are no guarantees!
Lee: This retirement thing is really getting to you, isn't it?
Reilly: Compulsory retirement. Ranks right up there with compulsive suicide. (Lee walks around to Francine's desk.) Lee, how did your meeting go with Blue Leader?
(Lee looks up and stares, then chuckles nervously.)
Lee: How did what?
Reilly: Now, son, I've been in intelligence for over forty years and I've seen moles before -- oh, hell, I've caught moles before. I know the drill. I watched you when Francine mentioned, uh, "cable traffic" and "Rio." (Lee nods knowingly.) Unless my memory's fading entirely, the excuse she trotted around the shop about her mysterious absence had to do with. . . .
Lee: Cuba station. Not Rio.
Lee: You caught that.
Reilly: Oh, yeah, of course, of course. I'm going on sixty-five. Not a hundred and five. (Lee looks at the coffee cup in his hand.) Oh, you would be Blue Leader's boy. Who else in this outfit is absolutely clean about the Viktor business? Blue Leader mentioned me, did he?
(Lee stays silent a moment, then changes the subject.)
Lee: Walter, I've got things to do.
(He walks over to get his coat. Reilly stands up and follows him.)
Reilly: I'm not through talking yet.
Lee: It's the booze talking, Walter.
(The two of them open the door and walk down the hall, still arguing.)
Reilly: Now, wait a minute, I trained you, Lee, I taught you the business. You owe me an answer.
Lee: Yeah, Walter, you taught me.
Lee: You taught me pretty good. And if I were working for Blue Leader, how do you think you'd come out, huh?
Reilly: I don't know.
Lee: You're a pretty hot prospect, you know that? The top candidate for an approach by an East Block country.
(Lee pushes the button on the elevator.)
Reilly: Ah-hah. Lee: You're mad as hell and you don't care who knows it.
Lee: Your codename is Humbug, and believe me, pal, you've earned it. You've done nothing but grouse and gripe around here.
Lee: The thing that is burning you is that now you'll be home, growing your roses and reading the news, not making the news anymore. Now why wouldn't Blue Leader have you up there with the contenders for Mole of the Month, Walter?
Reilly: Will I get to answer that?
Lee: No, no, no, I'm going to answer that. He wouldn't figure it because old Humbug, the griping gardener, has one favorite flower.
Reilly: What's that?
Lee: The American beauty rose. (Reilly chuckles. The elevator chimes and the doors open. Lee steps in.) Walter, you are a patriot, simple as that. If you have taught me one thing, it's loyalty to this agency. Sorry, Humbug. As a mole, you just wouldn't cut it.
(The doors shut. As they are closing, Lee jokingly salutes Reilly. Reilly steps up to the closed elevator doors and calls to Lee.)
Reilly: Think you're pretty smart, don't you, Scarecrow? (He steps away from the elevator and shrugs.) I taught him too damn well.
(Little League game. Boys are shouting and parents are filing into
the bleachers. Dotty and Phillip walk up, followed by Amanda and Jamie.Phillip
is in his Bombers uniform and Amanda and Phillip are wearing their Bombers
caps. Dotty is giving last-minute instructions to Phillip.)
Dotty: Head down, okay? And then you keep your left arm real straight.
Amanda: Mother, I'm not really sure, but I think that you're talking about golf. (They stop. Dotty and Phillip look at her.) You know, with the. . . .
(She pantomimes swinging a golf club.)
Dotty: Oh, maybe so. Let me think now.
Jamie: They have a coach, Grandma.
Dotty: Oh, they do? Oh. Well, then just mind your coach, sweetie.
Phillip: Okay. Hey, I got to go. See ya, bye!
(He runs to join his teammates on the field.)
Amanda: Go get 'em! (She spots the snack booth.) Well, I think I'll go check the mothers' bake booth and see if they can use a hand.
Jamie: Hurry up, Phillip bats clean-up.
Dotty: Clean-up. They have you batting according to cleanliness and neatness. It's nice.
Amanda: Yeah. (She looks at Jamie and pulls his hat brim down in front of his eyes.) Save me a seat in the bleachers.
(She walks away. Jamie grins.)
(IFF. Billy is walking to his office. Lee is following.)
Billy: My phone? There's nothing wrong with my phone, why?
Lee: Well, I happened to see you downstairs when I came in and you were on a pay phone and. . . .
(They stop outside the doorway to the office. Billy sighs and shakes his head.)
Billy: Agents. Does everything have to have some meaning? (Lee starts to answer, but Billy cuts him off.) Listen, you want to know the truth? (He glances around.) I was talking with a buddy who's pretty well connected upstairs. Now, he's trying to find out for me if there's going to be an internal in this Viktor thing. (He notices Francine standing behind Lee. He puts a smile on his face.) You want something, Francine?
(Francine does not smile. She is close to tears.)
Francine: You were saying something about me, weren't you?
(He shakes his head, then exchanges glances with Lee.)
Francine: Oh, come on, please don't lie to me. I know the talk, I hear the whispers.
Lee: Francine, you --
Francine: Nobody has to draw me any pictures. . . . You don't trust me.
Lee: Francine, we weren't talking about you.
Francine: Why don't you just be man enough, just come on out and admit it, okay? Admit it! (Lee shrugs and looks to Billy for help.) All right, I am a suspect. I'm a suspect! (As she starts to cry, Lee and Billy just stare at her.) Oh. Okay, I'm going home now, all right? Because I hate this in public, I hate this! (She starts to go, then turns.) Oh, and, Lee, you have a phone call.
(She storms away.)
(He looks at Billy, who shakes his head. They both stare after Francine.)
Billy: It's weird. And it's getting weirder and weirder. Go take your phone call.
(He steps into his office and closes the door. Lee turns and walks away.)
(Phillip's game. One boy pitches the ball to the batter, who swings
and connects. The children and parents cheer as the batter runs, rounding
first base. At the snack table, Amanda pokes her head into the tent. The
rest of her body follows.)
Amanda: Hi, Mrs. Scott, why don't you go let me take over for a few minutes?
(The woman gladly accepts. She leaves the tent. The instant she does, Amanda looks at her watch, then Lee walks up.)
Amanda: Hi. I wasn't sure whether you wanted me to keep on, after what happened to Ronny.
Lee: Well, sure, I want you to keep on, that's why I came when you called.
(Amanda reaches into her pocket and pulls out a Bombers baseball cap.)
Amanda: Okay, good. Here, look, would you mind putting this on, then?
(Lee takes the cap from her hand and stares at it.)
Lee: It's a baseball cap.
Amanda: Yes, I know it's a baseball cap. Most of the Bomber fathers wear them.
Lee: Bombers fathers? (Amanda nods.) No! Amanda, I am sorry, I pass. (He hands her back the cap.) I am not, nor do I ever intend to be a Bomber father.
Amanda: All right, well, do you think you could maybe just loosen your tie a little bit, then, please, you look a little stuffy.
Lee: My tie?
Amanda: I'll tell you what you really need, you need something to eat. So here, why don't you try a nice brownie? Mrs. Scott makes them. (Lee picks one up.) Seventy-five cents, please.
(Lee sighs and digs through his pocket.)
Lee: Is this why you brought me, huh? To have me chip my tooth on one of Mrs. Scott's brownies?
(He plunks the money down on the table.)
Amanda: Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. I don't want you to think that I don't trust David.
Amanda: Not for a minute. But, um. . . .
Lee: Amanda, come on, what have you got?
Amanda: All right. I have been checking into the bank statements and the tax returns, like you told me to, and I think maybe I found something strange.
Lee: Strange, how?
(Amanda takes out a notepad and flips to a certain page.)
Amanda: About six months ago, David started making out checks to Monica Benson, right?
Amanda: Now, I assume they have to be alimony checks, because they had no children -- gee, that's sad, isn't it? You know, children can really make the difference in a marriage --
(Lee sighs and rolls his eyes.)
Lee: Checks, come on, come on, checks, you were mentioning checks.
Amanda: Right. Okay, sorry, okay, the checks. The first check was on June first, you see?
Amanda: Second check, July sixth, right?
Amanda: The third check, August fourteenth. Do you see a pattern here?
Lee: I see it, I see it, and . . . ?
Amanda: And then they stop. (Lee looks up.) Even after he stopped paying the alimony, he continued to take a full tax credit for the entire amount, over and over and over and over again. Now, don't you think that's pretty strange?
Lee: Yeah, that is pretty strange. Unless . . . unless he was paying her in cash. But if he was paying her in cash, why? And where did it come from?
(Amanda grins proudly.)
Amanda: Exactly. (You hear a baseball bat crack. Amanda looks up. Phillip has just hit the ball and is rounding the bases one by one. Amanda shrieks.) Go, Phillip! Slide! (Lee drops the brownie on his toe. It thunks and Lee grabs his foot in pain. Amanda does not notice.) Slide, Phillip! Slide! (Phillip slides into home base just in time.) Atta boy!
(She whacks Lee on the back while he is doubled over, holding his foot.)
Amanda: Look at him, you didn't see! (Phillip jumps up and down in joy while everyone cheers.) Yes! Good boy, Phillip!
(Lee straightens up, holding the brownie.)
Lee: Sure, it was wonderful. I just dropped this brownie on my toe, I think it's broken. (He wiggles his foot.) The brownie is just fine.
(He tosses it on the table. It lands with a bang.)
Amanda: I'm sorry, is there anything I can do?
Lee: Well, it's funny you asked, yes, there is something you can do. But you're going to need some identification, you know, one of those funny little badge things that people wear when they come to your door?
Amanda: Badge things?
(Monica Benson's apartment. Monica is holding the door open a crack
while Amanda is standing outside. Monica does not want to let her in. She
Amanda: Mrs. Benson, Mrs. Monica Benson?
Monica: What's that badge say again?
(As Amanda answers, she shoves her badge in through the crack. Monica fingers it. Amanda also pushes her official notebook through and soon her head and body squeeze through.)
Amanda: It says "United States Bureau of the Census Department of Marital Relations" as you can see right there and it also says it right here on the top of my sheet, you see?
(Finally, she is completely inside and facing Monica, who is pretty and spunky. She sighs and shakes her head.)
Monica: Got another department?
Amanda: Well, yeah, that's the government for you. Now, your name is Monica Benson, right?
(She takes a pencil from the clipboard cover of the notebook.)
Monica: Look, I don't have to answer any questions.
Amanda: No. No, you don't have to answer these questions, but these are the questions of the United States government and if you don't answer them from me, you'll just have to answer them from my superior or my superior's superior --
(Monica sighs and interrupts her.)
Monica: Monica Benson.
(Amanda writes on her sheet.)
Amanda: There. Now, are you divorced, married, or single?
Monica: Divorced. Definitely divorced. Uh, look, is this going to take long, because, uh, I just got off the courts and I think I have a compound fracture of both arches.
Amanda: It won't take long, maybe, um, you know, ten minutes.
Monica: Well, ten minutes is long.
Amanda: It's my job. I'm just doing my job.
Monica: Well, all right. (She shuts the front door and starts walking to the living room. Amanda follows.) Come on into the living room. If I'm going to be interrogated, I might as well do it under my own lamp.
Amanda: Yes, that's what I always say.
(Park. Benson is pacing angrily under the shade of a large tree with
hanging branches. The person he is talking to is sitting on a bench, hidden
by the leaves.)
Benson: She called a couple of minutes before I phoned you. She was steamed, let me tell you.
Viktor: Then let's be calm about this, shall we? How do you know the woman with the Agency?
(Benson walks over and looks Viktor in the eye.)
Benson: Because I damn well checked. There is no Department of Marital Relations, she's an agent. Monica bought the whole story. She told her everything.
Viktor (calmly): If she believed the woman, why did she call you?
Benson: Because the woman got her in some idiot conversation about taxes. The difference between alimony and child support and who pays taxes on what. Monica just called to tell me how ticked off she was because I forgot to tell her she owed a ton of back taxes. That's when I found out about the woman.
Viktor: And just what am I to do about it?
(Benson walks around to sit down on the bench.)
Benson: You're asking me what to do? There's an internal investigation going on, Viktor. They're about to drop the net on me and you're asking me what I expect you to do?
(Viktor chuckles and stands up. He walks a few steps, then turns to face Benson.)
Viktor: I asked, because I hope you don't expect me to take care of anyone else, David. Your Oriental partner was the last. You came to me, told me he was beginning to put pieces together, I did you a favor. No more. I've carried you, helped you support your ridiculous lifestyle. But you have become too expensive. (He looks upward.) Even for us.
(Benson stands and looks Viktor in the eye.)
Benson: I just want you to get him off my back. If not you, then someone else. Just do it.
Viktor: "He." Who is "he"?
Benson: Lee Stetson. Scarecrow.
Viktor: You're certain it is Scarecrow?
Benson: Yes. I'm sure.
Viktor: Then you have your answer.
Viktor: I won't be here. I have the information I came for, I will be on the four o'clock flight to Paris tomorrow afternoon. (Benson stares at him, then looks down.) I'm afraid it is your problem now.
(Benson looks up and stares darkly at him. Viktor, unfazed, walks away.)
(IFF. The elevator door opens on Lee's floor. Amanda pushes aside
the coats and steps out, reading some papers in her hands. She walks down
the hall and into the office room. She stops, looks around, then walks
over to Billy, sending a female agent out of his office.)
Billy: Once you get it translated and typed, shoot it right back to me.
Amanda: Sir? Have you seen Lee?
Billy: Is that his report? It's due at five o'clock.
Amanda: Uh, yes, sir, I want to give it to him to check.
Billy: Well, that's all right, I'll check it for him.
(Billy reaches for it, but Amanda pulls it away.)
Amanda: No, sir, I think he'd be very angry with me if he didn't check it before you saw it.
Billy (annoyed): Fine. Fine. He's down at Ned's, get him to check it, then bring it up here.
Amanda: Yes, sir, I'll do that.
(Billy storms into his office while Amanda trots off in the other direction.)
(Nedlinger's Pub. Francine and Lee are at the bar.)
Francine: But I never fall apart like that, I mean, it's just not like me, and so I thought I'd tell you why.
Lee: Well, how come? It's none of my business.
Francine: How come? Because you're my friend. I should have told you something before, but I was -- I was too upset. My mother had surgery.
Lee: Oh, I'm sorry.
Francine: Major surgery.
Lee: That's some pretty heavy stuff, huh?
Francine: Heavy? You want to hear heavy? I mean, here I am with a gun in my hand, chasing after a Bulgarian spy. And the only mother I have is lying in Intensive Care three thousand miles away. I ask you, is that guilt or is that guilt?
Lee: Is she all right now?
(Behind them, Benson comes in and walks up to them.)
Francine: Yeah. She's just great.
Lee: Ah, good.
Francine: She's terrific.
Benson: Terrific? What's this about feeling terrific? Did you pull a promotion or did you get, uh, Paris station or something hot?
(Francine looks up at him, still smiling.)
Francine: Something just as good.
(She flashes Lee another smile and stands up. She walks away. Benson slides into her seat.)
Benson: Some fella. Got to be some fella.
Lee: Right again, Nightlight.
Benson: So, uh, where's Amanda?
(He shrugs and shakes his head.)
Benson: You two are working together.
Benson: On the internal. I mean, you're doing the internal, aren't you?
Lee: What? (Benson leans closer.) Ah, you know, when you are wrong, you are wrong from here to Sri Lanka. (They both laugh.) No, I'm not. Come on.
Benson: We've been together, what, four years now, I can read you like a paper bag.
(Lee chuckles and raises his coffee cup, then lowers it again.)
Lee: Hey, look, you want some advice? Dump whatever it is you are drinking, huh? (Still smiling, Benson slides back the jacket covering his right hand. Lee looks down at the gun pointed at him. His smile fades.) What's this?
Benson: We're going to take this outside. There's an Agency sedan parked out back. I want you to get up slowly and walk and keep your hands where I can see them.
Lee: So it's you. (Benson just stares.) You know, uh, my money was on Ronny before he bought it.
Benson: Walk. (Keeping an eye on Benson, Lee slowly eases up out of the seat and cautiously walks over to the back door, with Benson following. They step outside. Benson shuts the door, then stops Lee.) Right there. Hand me your gun, butt first, nice and easy. (Lee obeys.) So tell me, why Ronny? Why did you pick him?
Lee: His bank account. He was dumb enough to put his piece of the action right in his bank, in his name, social security number.
Benson: You're putting me on. Go wasn't in on this.
Lee: So how does a guy who's pulling down thirty-six-five a year score forty big ones, huh? The math doesn't track, Davey.
Benson: You really don't know, do you? (Lee turns to look at him. Benson nudges him with the gun.) Let's go. (They walk.) He won the Irish sweeps. Huh? Ain't that a kick? A Chinese spy rakes in ... for something like that in the Irish sweepstakes.
Lee: Yeah, sure he did.
Benson: I don't care if you believe me or not. You were in Tangiers or someplace like that anyhow. He threw a hell of a party. Too bad you didn't make it. So who's the woman working with you on this, Lee? Amanda?
Lee: There's no woman.
Benson: Well, it's not Greta or Connie or Francine. (He stops Lee.) It's Amanda, isn't it?
(Lee looks at Benson.)
(Inside Nedlinger's, Amanda is at the bar, talking with the bartender.)
Amanda: How long ago?
Bartender: Just a minute ago. Thirty seconds, whatever. He was with Davey.
Benson: You really didn't have me pegged, did you, Lee? A little lady from the sticks did, though. Thanks to Monica, Amanda now knows about the alimony being paid in cash. I guess she just didn't have the time to lay it out for you. Do you understand what I'm saying, Lee? (Lee looks away, then back up at Benson.) Cool. Very cool. Not a blink, a twitch. Zero reaction, the perfect secret agent. You're a real credit to your country flag, you know?
Lee: Oh, you, too, David. Now, which country did you say that was again?
Benson: Very funny. Come on. (He nudges with the gun. They both walk.) The door's unlocked. You're going to slide over and drive.
(Inside. Amanda turns to the front door, but when the bartender calls,
she whirls around to complete a 360-degree spin.)
Bartender: No, lady.
(The bartender points to the back door.)
Bartender: That way. The back door.
Amanda: Thank you.
(She walks over to the direction he was pointing to.)
(Outside, Benson has led Lee to a blue sedan parked by the curb.)
Lee: I have to do everything. Leave my coffee, drive the car, get shot.
(He gets in, then moves over to the driver's seat. Benson follows him in, keeping the gun pointed the whole time. Just then, Amanda comes out the back exit of Nedlinger's. She hears the engine start up and look. She spots the car with the two men inside start to pull out.)
(The car drives away. Amanda runs back inside Nedlinger's.)
(A few minutes later, the Agency sedan is driving down a street.
Lee glances at Benson, who is still pointing the gun at Lee. They drive
off. Amanda's station wagon comes into view, following them. She looks
out the windshield and continues driving. Around the bend, a line of five
cars goes by, Amanda's the last and Benson's the first. She goes as fast
as she possibly can without rearending the car in front of her.)
Amanda: Don't speed, Amanda, come on now, don't speed. (She doesn't, but it doesn't get her anywhere.) Why not speed?
(She takes a hat and puts it on her head, pulling it down low. Then she ducks down, pulls her coat collar up around her face, and steps on the gas. Her car, with tires screeching, pulls out into the wrong lane and speeds up. She passes all the cars except for Benson's, which she ducks back behind. Sitting up a tiny bit, she passes that car, too. Lee and Benson watch as her car goes past and gets in front, then zooms off. Lee, confused, looks at Benson, who doesn't notice that it's Amanda's car. he chuckles.)
Benson: Virginia plates. You'd think I ought to know better than to hotdog it in Fairfax County.
(Lee looks at him, then back at the road. Meanwhile, Amanda's car speeds down the road in front of him, passing a white sign that reads "FAIRFAX COUNTY." Satisfied, she sits up and tosses the hat on the seat. Ahead of her, she sees two policemen by the side of the road, helping a woman with her car. She speeds by them, honking her horn. The policemen don't notice anything. Continuing, Amanda winces, then looks in her rearview mirror and sees that they aren't following her. She smiles weakly, then doubles back. Meanwhile, the cops are still helping with the car tire.)
Policeman: Let's try this again.
(Amanda appears in front of the policemen's car and does a crazy U-turn, kicking up dust. Finally the policemen notice and, shouting to each other, run to their car, get in, and chase after Amanda, their lights and siren going. Amanda looks in the mirror and continues. Meanwhile, Benson's car appears and drives by. Lee looks out the window. The cops have pulled Amanda over and are walking to her car. Benson sees, too.)
Benson: What'd I tell you? Don't slow down, don't speed up, just take it nice and easy, Lee. There's a side road up ahead, I want you to make a left. (Wordlessly, Lee looks straight ahead and obeys, turning onto the road.) Stop right here.
(Lee does. He looks at Benson and the gun, relentlessly aimed at Lee. Lee breathes heavily.)
Lee: Look, Davey, you can't go back. You can't run, you can't hide.
Benson: I can run. As long as there's a four o'clock flight at Dulles.
Lee: To where?Benson: To Paris. (Lee sighs.) And Bulgaria. (Lee looks at him.) Viktor will take me with him. (He cocks the gun.) Now come on. Let's go.
(He opens the door. Lee stares at him coldly. Just then, Amanda's car reappears and drives up next to the sedan, sending the open door flying. Lee takes the chance and tackles Benson, wrestling him to the ground and knocking the gun out of his hand. Amanda parks and gets out, watching. Benson wriggles away from Lee and runs like a scared rabbit. Lee goes after him. They both run right past Amanda, barely noticing her. Police sirens wail, getting closer and closer. Benson climbs over a fence. Lee jumps over it. Then they split up. Benson runs around a large tree and Lee runs around the other side. Amanda turns and watches as the police car shows up and the cops get out. They chase after Benson and Lee. Amanda turns back to watch the scene. Benson jumps down to a small pond. He runs along the shore, hopping over branches and mud. Lee, without hesitating, leaps onto Benson. They both go flying into the pond. Lee lands on top. He stands, then lifts a stunned Benson and punches him in the jaw. He grabs Benson by the collar and pulls him partially up.)
Lee: That was for Ronny! Your partner, and my friend! Now, are you on the level about that four o'clock flight? Huh? (He angrily shakes Benson, who nods.) And Viktor's booked on it.
(Amanda runs up, followed by the cops. They all stand and watch as Lee pulls a drenched Benson to his feet and over to the officers. One officer puts his arm on Lee.)
Policeman: All right, how about some ID?
Lee: You got it, officer. (He lets go of Benson and reaches into his jacket pocket.) Come on, take care of my friend here, huh? (The second officer takes Benson from him and pulls him over to the waiting car. Lee produces his badge and hands to the first cop.) There you go.
(The policeman reads it and nods. Then he walks off. Amanda calls after him.)
Amanda: Thank you, sir.
Lee: Yeah, thanks.
(He shakes the water off his hand. Amanda helps him up.)
(She lets go and shakes off her hands, now wet.)
Lee: Oh. (He looks down, then up at Amanda.) Amanda --
Amanda: I was real worried about you.
Lee: Yeah, same with me. Listen, how'd you get them to believe they had to follow you here?
Amanda: Oh, I just showed them my government identification.
Lee: Uh, Amanda, you don't have any government identification.
Amanda: Oh, sure I do. (She rummages through her purse.) Of course I do. Don't you remember? (She raises her fake badge and opens it. Lee stares at it.) I've got my badge. (Lee looks at her, then upward. He sighs. Amanda snaps the case closed and lowers it. She shrugs.) Just showed them my badge.
(Lee looks at her, amused. Then he closes his eyes and shakes his head.)
(Next day. Lee's Porsche is driving down a residential street. Amanda
is in the passenger seat beside Lee.)
Amanda: How can I be sure?
Lee: Amanda, the body shop guy said you could have it back in three days. Until then, you have an Agency car for a loaner.
Amanda: And the Agency will pay for the damage, right? Because, I mean, it's entirely practically the whole side of my station wagon is really messed up.
Lee: The Agency will pay. No problem.
Amanda: No problem?
Amanda: I can't get them to pay for the pair of blue shoes that I ruined, and that was a lot less expensive.
(Lee smiles and stifles a chuckle. Behind them, a dark limousine follows.)
Blue Leader: Scarecrow, this is Blue Leader.
(Instantly, Lee answers. Amanda looks around, startled.)
Lee: Yes, sir.
Amanda: Where? Where is Blue Leader?
Blue Leader: I want to thank you, Scarecrow. And you, Mrs. King. Viktor Ignatia was taken off flight 707 last evening and is comfortably in custody. (Amanda looks at Lee with a look that says, "Where is that voice coming from?") Nightlight was arraigned early this morning and sends both of you his best. You can be sure the Agency is proud of both of you.
Lee: Thank you, sir.
Amanda: Thank you, sir. Sir! (under her breath, to Lee:) Where do you talk to when you talk to him?
Lee: Well, uh, I usually aim for the steering wheel.
(Amanda leans over and speaks to the steering wheel. While she is speaking, Lee checks the mirror to make sure the limo is still there. It is.)
Amanda: Sir? Sir, as long as I have you on the line, I wonder if I could just mention to you that I damaged my station wagon pretty badly in the, uh, in the -- well, yesterday in the whole mission and I was just, um, wondering, I was hoping, that we could, uh, you know, the Agency would be sure to take care of, uh, of, uh, of the repair and, uh. . . .
Lee: Amanda. (He clears his throat and looks to the mirror. The limo is gone. Lee turns back to Amanda.) He's gone.
Amanda: No, no. No, no. I think we're on hold. (She sits silent a moment. Lee smiles.) Sir? Mr. Leader? Blue Leader, sir?
(Lee bursts out laughing.)
*Even though this is what the actor said, we can't figure out why. The character being spoken to was David Benson, codenamed "Nightlight." The actors and crew must have been tired.