Number Ten (Downing Street) E X T R A C T * |
INT. THAMES HOUSE (MI5 HEADQUARTERS). NIGHT. PAUL sits in an interview room, CRICK in attendance. The door opens and RUPERT CRESWELL, Head of the anti-terrorist unit, and GEORGE CHANDLER, the Number 10 security chief, enter. CRESWELL They sit opposite. Pause. PAUL waits. Let us assume a hypothetical situation. Let us assume that someone such as yourself, in a privileged position within Ten Downing Street, is feeding information to organisations who wished to do damage to the state. What possible motive could that person have? PAUL waits in total incomprehension. He would appear to have nothing to gain. Bright, up-and-coming, public school, Cambridge honours, Whitehall high flyer.... What conceivable reason would someone like that have to do such a thing? PAUL looks at CRESWELL, who stares back expressionless. You, for instance, are not a Muslim. You have no trace of middle east blood or connections. I can only think of two other possible motives a person such as yourself might have. Political extremism - of which again, there is no trace in your background... or money. Which would seem unlikely, given your family origins and reasonable salary. PAUL A beat. CRESWELL PAUL CHANDLER just stares back, solemn. CRESWELL PAUL stares, then takes out his mobile. PAUL CRESWELL just looks, unimpressed. Is that it? CHANDLER PAUL CRESWELL PAUL They just stare. I've been set up. It's a set-up! CRESWELL CUT TO: EXT. LONDON STREETS. NIGHT. PAUL is being driven in an anonymous CAR through
the city. Two MI5 OFFICERS accompany him, and
a POLICE CAR follows behind. It is very late,
and the streets are almost empty as the two CARS
wend their way towards New Scotland Yard. OFFICER DRIVER He screeches to a halt half way across an intersection, stopped by another barrier. OFFICER A huge TRUCK suddenly roars at full speed out of the intersecting side-street and rams the car sideways on, sending it hurtling into a parked VAN at the side of the road. Terrific crash and grinding metal. All the occupants of the car are flung sideways and battered against the walls of the vehicle. A moment's silence. PAUL, sitting in the most protected seat but still bloodied and dazed, gathers his senses and realises that his escorts are out for the count. He looks up and, through the shattered side window, sees hooded FIGURES approaching round the sides of the truck, guns at the ready. He frantically yanks open the door beside him and falls out of the car on the other side. He is right up against the parked van, and rolls underneath it just as the FIGURES arrive at the car and start to smash at the windows with their weapons. Then shots ring out from back up the lane. The men look up, curse and retreat hurriedly as two POLICEMEN from the stranded police car race up firing their weapons into the air. The TRUCK reverses back up the side street and away from the scene. The POLICE arrive at the car and tug at the doors, as PAUL lies half conscious underneath the van. He pulls himself together and rolls away to the other side, crawls out from beneath, and, whilst the POLICE are occupied with the wrecked car, staggers away in the darkness. * |