FADE IN: "A BLUEBIRD BETRAYED"
EXT. CALIFORNIA COASTAL CLIFF -- DAY
JESSICA McCOOL, 25, unassuming yet with a keen sense of what is just,
and love of her life MATTHEW, 27, climb the cliff face above the ocean.
From the crest, Matthew stretches down the cliff to help Jessica.
Jessica reaches for his hand, but loses footing; pieces of sandstone
crumble and fall, far into the waves below.
She regains her footing, and Matthew grabs her hand.
EXT. CLIFF TOP
Matthew spins Jessica victoriously. They laugh and kiss passionately.
EXT. CLIFF TOP -- LATE AFTERNOON
Matthew and Jessica sit against a rock, gazing at the ocean.
Matthew takes a cigar from his pocket and lights up, assessing it.
MATTHEW
Good stuff. But today was your day,
you shouldn’t be buying me gifts.
JESSICA
Today would never have come
without you.
MATTHEW
I love you so much.
He kisses her.
MATTHEW
If I died right now, I'd have
lived a full and perfect life.
He jumps up, lifts his collar up and clamps the cigar in his teeth.
Assuming a grim expression and a bureaucratic posture he imitates a
Congressman:
MATTHEW
No, Ms. Jessica Justice, Reporter
Extraordinaire, Honors-Graduate McCool,
I have no comment at this time.
Spinning around, Matthew takes the cigar from his mouth and holds it
like a microphone in the imaginary Congressman's face, imitating Reporter
Jess.
MATTHEW
Isn't it true, Mr. Bureaucrat,
Mr. Beltway-Bandit Politician Man,
that you never intended to repay
the five gazillion dollar mortgage
on your worthless desert sand-
land that you borrowed from your
conniving, corrupt banker buddy
in Oklahoma City, you self-serving
sellout?
Matthew resumes the posture of the Congressman.
MATTHEW
Where did you get that from?
I never said such a thing.
(imitating reporter Jess)
Oh but you did, you gutless,
greedy, corner-cutting Congressman --
you said it to the water girl
behind the 12th hole at Kualihali
Maui Waui after you showed her
how you could crush a dixie cup
with your bare butt. I know you
said this; I had the dixie cup wired!
Matthew, imitating the scared Congressman trying to get away from the
reporter, hurries toward the edge of the cliff.
MATTHEW
I never said this, I don't remember,
I don't know anything about it.
It would never stand up in a
court of law.
(as reporter)
Ah, but I'm not going to use
it in a court of law, I'm going
to use it in a newspaper, and
newspapers are allowed to use
all facts to expose the truth!
(imitating Congressman)
Oh God, please don't print that,
it'll ruin me. I've got a
family, you know!
(as reporter)
Unfortunately for your family,
Sir, you've got no integrity!
Jessica laughs uproariously.
Matthew, as the triumphant reporter, turns on his heel, chin up, and
steps right off the cliff.
Jessica wipes tears of laughter from her eyes, looks up to see the cigar
bounce on the ground in a flurry of flaming ash, but no Matthew.
She laughs once more, subdued, questioning; it doesn't register.
JESSICA
Matthew?
INT. CORPORATE LOBBY, SANTA MONICA -- ONE YEAR LATER -- DAY
The lobby is grey, cold, vast.
Jessica sits at a reception island that almost swallows her. She peers
over the high counter to glimpse out of the darkly-tinted windows.
The PHONE RINGS, she answers it.
JESSICA
Good morning, Hurth Heath Howard
& Pister, how may I help you?
(pause)
Yes, Aunt Peg, I'll find a gift.
A short, balding young man in a suit, SNEPP, enters the lobby.
JESSICA
(phone)
Tonight. Have to go now.
Jess hangs up and watches Snepp with dislike as he leans on the counter,
invading her space.
Jessica picks up the phone, dials.
JESSICA
(phone)
Hi, Loretta. Snepp is here
to see Mr. Heath.
Snepp smirks down at Jessica as she hangs up the phone.
JESSICA
Have a seat. It'll be
just a minute.
SNEPP
Come on, Jessica, call me Sir,
just once.
Jessica swivels her chair to work on the computer.
SNEPP
Well you might want to practice:
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Snepp, right
away, Sir." Because after this
meeting, I'll be Mr. Burt Snepp,
Vice President of Operations.
And I'll need a good assistant.
Did you hear me? There'd be bonuses.
Tell me the truth, don't you get
bored in this job? Sitting here
all by your lonesome, nothing to
do but write love letters?
The elevator doors open across the lobby. LORETTA steps out. She's
forty-something, British, tall, and exudes the hard cynicism of a career
executive assistant.
LORETTA
Mr. Snepp? Mr. Heath is ready to
see you, Sir.
Jessica looks up at Snepp and he winks at her.
SNEPP
See? Just takes a little practice.
(turning to Loretta)
Loretta! How was your vacation?
Loretta holds the elevator door for Snepp and steps in next to him. The
doors close on her reply:
LORETTA
Too short, but thank you for asking.
Alone again, Jessica stares angrily at the keyboard. The PHONE RINGS, she
answers with a strained voice.
JESSICA
Hurth Heath Howard & Pister,
how may I help you?
EXT. BEACH BOARDWALK -- LATE AFTERNOON
Jessica leans against a wall, smoking a cigarette, glumly watching happy
beach people roller and bike by her.
INT. BEACH BOOKSTORE -- NIGHT
Jessica looks through coffee table books. She picks up a BIRD BOOK, with
an illustration of a bluebird on the cover.
The bookstore is large, modern and busy. Small groups of people stream
past Jessica toward the back of the store, TALKING heatedly to each other
and carrying copies of a RED-JACKETED BOOK.
INT. BOOKSTORE
At the register, Jessica waits for the CLERK to copy her drivers license
number on the check.
A red sign on the counter catches her eye. The sign reads:
"TONIGHT:
Hear the author of RedBird Rising speak
out against government corruption!"
Below the announcement is a PHOTOGRAPH of a handsome man, late thirties,
with intense eyes.
The clerk sticks the receipt inside the book and slides it across the
counter to Jess. Jessica lingers an instant, riveted by the author's
photograph.
CLERK
They're in the back room.
It's free.
Jessica glances to the back of the store to see the last red-book-toting
customer file into another room.
She takes her book.
JESSICA
Thanks.
INT. BOOKSTORE BACK ROOM
The room is packed -- all the chairs are taken.
CARL McGRUDER stands beside a podium at the head of the room, drinking water.
A table lined with RedBird Rising books shares the stage with Carl.
Jessica enters the room and stands against the back wall.
Carl sets the glass on the podium and waits for everyone to settle.
CARL
If truth is stranger than fiction,
I'm sure you'll agree that my
story is truly strange. This
is a story about murder and
betrayal: the murder of a good man
and the betrayal of a nation,
of your nation, of all of you.
Carl drinks water and looks over the audience. His gaze lingers on Jess.
CARL
Years ago I co-owned a small air-
freight service based in New Mexico.
My best friend Tommy Danforth crunched
numbers, I flew the freight. Mostly
to Central America, mostly for the
same customers. One day I got curious
about what what nature of freight I
was moving, so I checked it out: and
you guessed it: it was guns and cash
going out, cocaine coming in.
Members of the audience gasp.
CARL
That's what I thought. Tommy said,
don't sweat it, this is undercover
stuff. He insisted on taking the
next run himself. Tommy was a helluva
flyboy. But on that next run, his plane
went down. I know they killed him.
INT. BOOKSTORE BACK ROOM -- LATER THAT NIGHT
A line forms at the signing table.
Carl sits at the table and signs books.
As he hands a signed book to someone, Carl notices Jess looking
through a copy of RedBird Rising.
CARL
Should I sign it?
JESSICA
I didn't buy one.
CARL
Would you like one?
JESSICA
That's okay.
CARL
After listening to me for two
hours you've decided you're not
interested?
JESSICA
It's not that I don't want one,
I just don't have one.
Carl hands her a book.
CARL
Take this one. It's on me.
JESSICA
You don't have to do that.
CARL
(setting the book down)
What book did you buy?
Jessica lowers the bird book so Carl can see the cover.
CARL
You prefer bluebirds to redbirds?
JESSICA
It's a gift for someone.
CARL
You're smarter than most.
Carl resumes signing books.
EXT. BOOKSTORE PARKING LOT -- NIGHT
Jess hurries through the lot to avoid detection by a group of raucous,
partying surfers.
She is startled by a hand, from nowhere, grabbing her shoulder.
CARL
Alone out here, you should be
careful.
JESSICA
This is my car.
Still slightly spooked, Jess manages to open the door of her tired-looking
but vintage VW Bug. Carl helps her in.
JESSICA
Thanks.
CARL
My pleasure.
JESSICA
Thanks also for everything you’re
doing, with the book. I wish I was
as brave.
She shuts the car door and starts the engine.
Carl taps on her window, she cracks it.
CARL
I could use your help.
JESSICA
Can’t imagine how.
CARL
On a piece I’m doing for the
Washington Post. High level
corruption. Sensitive stuff.
JESSICA
The Post?
CARL
Okay, you caught me. I do have an
ulterior motive. I’d like to spend
some time with you. What’s your
name?
JESSICA
How could I possibly help you?
You don’t know me.
CARL
What is your name?
JESSICA
Jessica.
CARL
Jessica, I think I’d like to know
you. Would that be so bad? Take a
risk, invest a little time, make a
new friend?