13 Days by David Self DARKNESS. As the MAIN TITLES BEGIN, the theater thrums with a subsonic HISS which mounts in all the rattling power of THX, and we... BURN IN, BRIGHT LIVING COLOR: EXT. STRATOSPHERE - DAY The glory of stratospheric dawn. The engines of a silver Lockheed U-2F rasp upon the trace oxygen here at 72,500 feet. Scattered cloud formations hang over the blue brilliance of sea far, far below. In the haze, the looming edge of land. SUPER: FLIGHT G-3101. OCTOBER 14TH, 1962. OVER CUBA. The spy plane's CAMERA DOORS whine open. The glassy eye of the 36-inch camera focuses. And then with a BANGBANGBANGBANG, its high-speed motor kicks in, shutter flying. MATCH CUT TO: INT. O'DONNELL BEDROOM - DAY A simple CAMERA, snapping away furiously in the hands of a giggling MARK O'DONNELL, 4. He's straddling and in the face of his dad, KENNY O'DONNELL, 30's, tough, Boston-Irish, with a prodigious case of morning hair. Kenny awakens, red-eyed. HELEN (O.S.) Mark, get off your father! Kenny sits up to the morning bedlam of the O'Donnell house. KIDS screech, doors bang all over. Kenny pushes Mark over, rolls out of bed, snatches up the corners of the blanket and hoists Mark over his shoulder in a screaming, kicking bundle. INT. O'DONNELL HALLWAY - DAY Kenny, with Mark in the bundle on his shoulder, meets his wife HELEN going the other way in the hall with LITTLE HELEN, 1, in her arms. KENNY Hi, hon. They kiss in passing. Daughter KATHY, 12, races by in angry pursuit of her twin, KEVIN, 12. HELEN Don't forget, Mrs. Higgins wants to talk to you this afternoon about Kevin. You need to do something about this. KENNY Kids are supposed to get detention. Kenny dumps the bundle with Mark in a big pile of dirty laundry. SMASH CUT TO: EXT. MCCOY AIR FORCE BASE - FLORIDA - DAY A pair of massive FILM CANISTERS unlock and drop from the belly of the U-2. TECHNICIANS secure them in orange carrying cases, lock them under key, fast and proficient. They whisk them out from under the spy plane. The Technicians run for an idling Jeep. They sling the cases into the rear of the vehicle which in turn accelerates away hard, curving across the runway for another waiting plane. SMASH CUT TO: INT. O'DONNELL KITCHEN - DAY A kitchen out of the late 1950's. Kenny drinks coffee, ties a tie, rifles through a briefcase at the kitchen table. The horde of kids, ages 2-14, breakfast on an array of period food. Kenny grills the kids while he goes over papers. KENNY Secretary of Defense... KEVIN Dean Rusk! KENNY Wrong, and you get to wax my car. KENNY JR. smirk at Kevin. KENNY JR. Rusk is State, moron. Robert McNamara. HELEN Got time for pancakes? KENNY Nope. Attorney General? A PHONE RINGS as the kids cry out en masse. KIDS (chorus) Too easy! Bobby, Bobby Kennedy! Kenny glances up at the wall. There are two phones, side by side. One RED, one BLACK. It's the black one ringing. Helen answers. Kenny goes back to his papers. KENNY All right, wise guys, Assistant Secretary of State for Latin America... SMASH CUT TO: EXT. STEUART BUILDING - DAY A U.S. Navy truck lurches to a stop in front of the run-down, brick-faced seven-story Steuart Building on 5th and K. Rear doors BANG open, and out hop two MARINE GUARDS, side arms drawn, film canisters in a carrying case between them. SUPER: NATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHIC INTERPRETATION CENTER (NPIC), WASHINGTON D.C. As the Marines approach the building, front doors SLAM open. INT. OPERATIONS OFFICE, NPIC - DAY A bespectacled OPERATIONS MANAGER hands a clipboard to one of the big Marine Guards who in turn hands him a set of keys. The Manager unlocks the film cases. PHOTO INTERPRETERS swoop in, whisk away the contents: SPOOLS OF FILM. SMASH CUT TO: EXT. O'DONNELL RESIDENCE - DAY A black Lincoln pulls away from the modest white house on a tidy Washington D.C. residential street. EXT. WASHINGTON D.C., AERIAL - DAY The car threads its way through the Washington traffic, past the big administrative buildings, down tree-lined avenues, takes a turn into a gate. As the car stops at the gate, the CAMERA flies past, revealing it's the gate to the WHITE HOUSE. SMASH CUT TO: INT. NPIC - DAY CLOSE ON the five-thousand rolls of film spewing through processing equipment, its streaking passage leading us straight through the development machinery to: A SERIES OF VARIOUS SHOTS: Photo Interpreters power up light tables, stereoscopic viewers, zip across the floor in wheeled chairs. Flying switches, flickering lights, humming motors. It's an eerie dance of technological black magic. Another pair of Interpreters loom out of the darkness, side by side, ghostly looking, their glasses reflecting the glare of the light table, like magicians staring into a crystal ball. IMAGES FILL THE SCREEN Aerial shots, flashing by. Cuban countryside from 72,500 feet. A MAGNIFYING GLASS swings down on its arm in front of us, magnifying the carpet of trees... and a row of six canvas covered OBJECTS among them. SMASH CUT TO: EXT. WHITE HOUSE - WEST WING - DAY Kenny, in business suit and tie, trots up the steps, and a MARINE GUARD snaps the door open for him. INT. WEST WING - CONTINUOUS Kenny, briefcase in hand, weaves his way through the empty, ornate hallways of the West Wing. Past magnificent doorways, early American furniture, paintings. He finally reaches a doorway, goes through into: INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS A long, narrow affair, window at the back looking out into the Rose Garden. Kenny dumps his briefcase on the desk, shucks off his coat, removes a folder from his briefcase, turns and heads back out... INT. WEST WING HALLS - CONTINUOUS And into the warren of offices and halls that is the working White House. He takes a right, passes the doors to the Oval Office right next to his office, goes down a long, straight hall, into... INT. MANSION - CONTINUOUS The formal main building, the executive mansion. He passes the busts of Presidents past, turns left into an elevator. The doors close. INT. 3RD FLOOR - FAMILY QUARTERS - DAY The doors open. Kenny strides out onto a DIFFERENT FLOOR, the third. He heads down the long, posh hall of the family quarters. Fine furnishings, art. The living White House. He approaches the double doors at the end of the hall guarded by a cluster of SECRET SERVICE AGENTS. An agent opens one of the doors. KENNY Morning, Floyd. SECRET SERVICE AGENT Good morning, Mr. O'Donnell. INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS Kenny enters the elegant bedroom. The figure alone at a side table by the window, drinks coffee, breakfast still spread out before him, Washington Post obscuring his face. KENNY Top o' the morning, Mr. President. The figure lowers the paper. It is PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY. He's wearing boxers and a tank top. Unshaven. Bed-head. Kenny O'Donnell, former ward-pol and long-time Kennedy man, is his Chief of Staff... THE PRESIDENT Morning, Kenny. You see this goddamn Capehart stuff? The President rattles the paper. Kenny collapses in the chair opposite the President, sprawls, comfortable. KENNY Bayh's going to lose, but it's good groundwork for us for '64. Kenny steals a piece of buttered toast off the President's plate. The President spares him a glance. THE PRESIDENT I was eating that. KENNY No you weren't. THE PRESIDENT (scanning the paper) I was, you bastard. Kenny takes a defiant bite. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) So what've we got today? KENNY Today, for your information, is Pulaski Day. We're going to Buffalo... SMASH CUT TO: INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: BUFFALO, NEW YORK A luxury hotel crowded with LOCAL POLS: the Democratic machine of Buffalo. Beyond the open floor-to-ceiling windows, a CROWD. The Pulaski Day Parade, a glimpse of '69s Americana. High School bands blare Sousa. The scene is deafening, boisterous. Pols trail Kenny as he crosses the room: fast, tough, on-the-go. POL #1 We're putting up Potowski next time. Will you guys come out for him? KENNY Who else you got? POL #2 There's Richardson. Good kid. KENNY Got the touch? POL #2 Yeah. Still moldable, too. KENNY Everyone likes a good kid... And like that, a congressional candidate is made... Kenny accelerates, leaving the Pols behind. Suddenly, outside the windows, the crowd swells forward with a collective ROAR. CROWD MR. PRESIDENT! PRESIDENT KENNEDY! EXT. HOTEL - DAY Kenny heads down the steps with New York Times Washington Bureau Chief, SCOTTY RESTON. Anonymous, they weave their way through the crowd for a police car on a side street. RESTON How's my favorite President? KENNY Busy. But you've got his heart. RESTON I want an hour with him. KENNY I said his heart, not his attention. RESTON Three weeks before midterm elections? You need me. KENNY Well. There is a new civil rights initiative he wants to talk about. RESTON I'm doing a piece on Skybolt. I hear Macmillan's meeting with him in Nassau. Kenny just sighs as they make their way up to the police car. A Secret Service Agent opens the door for him, another is behind the wheel. KENNY We're giving the Brits Polaris instead. But a story'll just aggravate things. Scotty stares at Kenny, determined. Kenny looks away. And his eye catches a tall, willowy BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. She is talking, excited, embarrassed, to two more SECRET SERVICE AGENTS. What they're saying is lost in the noise. Scotty follows Kenny's gaze. Then the two men share a look, a silent understanding. Kenny glances at the Secret Service guy holding the car door, tilts his head at the woman. KENNY (CONT'D) Not today. He's got tight schedule. The Agent nods, heads for the other Agents and the Beautiful Woman. Scotty acts like nothing has happened. RESTON Pretending there isn't a problem won't fix it. He can clear the air on Anglo American relations. KENNY Forget it, Scotty. RESTON Let him talk to me, he makes Macmillan look good, I print it, the British public likes it, Macmillan owes you. The formula's exactly what Kenny wants to hear. He pretends to consider, pretends to cave as he gets in the car. KENNY All right, you're in. Half hour. Reston's won. But so has Kenny, and he's made Scotty feel tough in the bargain. People like Kenny. INT. POLICE CAR - DAY In the back seat, Kenny stares out the window at the parade goers. The Secret Service Agents leave the Woman. Disappointed, the Woman turns and vanishes into the crowd. It's an eerie moment. Something troubles Kenny, and he glances up at the sky. A premonition. But it's a clear, clear blue. A day like this, all is right with the world... SMASH CUT TO: INT. NPIC - NIGHT Six Interpreters huddle around IMAGES on a light table. One of them shoulders his way into the group and THUMPS a black BINDER on the table. There are grim nods of agreement. The book is open to a PICTURE of an SS-4 BALLISTIC MISSILE. A photo from Moscow Mayday parade. An icon of the nuclear age escorted like some devil-god to a holocaust... END MAIN TITLE SEQUENCE EXT. THE WHITE HOUSE - DAY The White House casts long shadows this gorgeous October morning. Blue sky; the first flash of color in the trees. SUPER: TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16TH, 1962. DAY 1. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Briefcase and coat in hand, Kenny enters his office - and finds THREE MEN. Standing there. Thin-haired, bespectacled, academic-looking MCGEORGE BUNDY, 43, the National Security Advisor. The two men in the background: PHOTO INTERPRETERS. Kenny hangs up his coat, sees the Interpreters' large black display cases. And suddenly the world is slightly off kilter. KENNY Hey, Mac. You're up bright and early. BUNDY No, Ken. I need to see him now... INT. WHITE HOUSE - RESIDENTIAL FLOOR - DAY Kenny emerges from the elevator with Bundy. They head down the long, posh 3rd floor hall, the Presidential Detail guarding the doors at the end. But the familiar route feels strange, and lasting an eternity. Kenny eyes the package under Bundy's arm, its TOP SECRET stamp visible. KENNY Morning, Floyd. SECRET SERVICE AGENT Good morning, Mr. O'Donnell. Mr. Bundy. The Agent opens the door. Bundy pauses, Kenny with him. KENNY What's it about? BUNDY Cuba. Bundy is tense. But Kenny relaxes. KENNY Just Cuba? Okay, I got work to do, see you guys downstairs. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny's office is a raging beehive of activity. Kenny works the phone as ASSISTANTS come and go with files. KENNY (to phone, scary calm) Listen to me, you worthless piece of disloyal shit. You will pull Daly's man on the circuit. You owe your goddamn job to this administration. (beat, listening) There is a word you need to learn. It is the only word in politics. Loyalty. LOYALTY you motherfucking piece of shit! As Kenny THROWS the phone down at the receiver, and the PRIVATE DOOR to the Oval Office suddenly opens. Kenny glances up. President Kennedy stands there in the doorway. Kenny thinks he's reacting to the tirade. KENNY (CONT'D) What're you looking at? This isn't the blessed order of St. Mary the Meek. Kenny stops. KENNY (CONT'D) Excuse us. The Assistants leave, shutting the door after them. Kenny rises. THE PRESIDENT I think you should come in here. Kenny starts for the door. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) Still think Cuba isn't important? KENNY Not as far as the election goes. The President lets Kenny by into... INT. OVAL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS WE ENTER from a different angle than we usually enter in movies: through the side door. The President's ornate desk sits on the right, windows looking out on the Rose Garden behind it. Kenny's gaze swivels to: THE OTHER END OF THE ROOM where the Interpreters, their crewcut chief, ARTHUR LUNDAHL, 50's, and Bundy stare at him. They're surrounded by PRESENTATION BOARDS propped up around the fireplace. The President's rocking chair and sofas. THE PRESIDENT You used to look down a bomb sight for a living, Ken. What do you see? In eerie silence, as all eyes follow him, Kenny makes his way among the presentation boards with the U-2 imagery, stops in front of the picture of the six canvas-covered objects. It unleashes a wave of memories. KENNY We hit a Nazi buzz bomb field in '45. (beat, incredulous) It looks like a rocket base... He puts his hand out to touch the image, then turns and looks to the President, knowing what they must be. BUNDY On Sunday morning, one of our U-2s took these pictures. The Soviets are putting medium range ballistic missiles into Cuba. Shock. Silence. Kenny glances to the other men. LUNDAHL They appear to be the SS-4: range of a thousand miles, three-megaton nuclear warhead. KENNY Jesus Christ in Heaven... INT. WHITE HOUSE OPERATOR'S CENTER - DAY A bank of WHITE HOUSE OPERATORS work the switchboard, fingers flying, voices overlapping in a babble of: VARIOUS OPERATORS Please hold for the White House...Mr. O'Donnell for Secretary McNamara... White House Operator... please hold... INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY Kenny carries the phone with him as he paces hard from his desk to his window. KENNY The principals are assembling in an hour. See you then. Kenny hangs up. The President enters. A beat. And in that beat, there's a void. The two men are off their emotional stride, trying to grope their way out of shock. THE PRESIDENT Where's Bobby? Kenny nods, acknowledging the feeling KENNY Should be here any minute. THE PRESIDENT Good. And we glimpse the chemistry of these guys by Bobby's absence. It's like they're missing their third wheel. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) Good. BOBBY (O.S.) Where the hell are you? The President and Kenny hear him out in the hall. And the tension goes out of them instantly. THE PRESIDENT In here! They turn to the door as BOBBY KENNEDY, 37, the President's younger brother/Attorney General, enters. Bobby shuts the door behind him, falls into Kenny's chair, and clearly grappling with his own disbelief, is hushed. BOBBY Jesus Christ, guys. What the hell's Khruschev thinking? THE PRESIDENT Did you have any indication of this from Georgi? Any possible warning or sense of motivation? BOBBY (shaking his head) Complete snowjob. And then we went out and told the country they weren't putting missiles into Cuba. (beat) By the way, you realize we just lost the midterms. KENNY Who gives a shit about the midterms now? The Soviets are putting nuclear weapons ninety miles away from us. BOBBY You mean there's something more important than votes? Didn't think I'd live to see the day, Ken. The President paces away, grim. KENNY Jesus. I feel like we've caught the Jap carriers steaming for Pearl Harbor. INT. WEST WING HALLWAY - DAY The President strides down the plush hallway, Bobby and Kenny flanking him. Unconsciously, all three men assume the same gait: confident, powerful, no longer disoriented. And before our eyes, the three men's game faces appear, and they become the hard-ass leaders of the United States. Secret Service Agents throw open the massive double doors to the Cabinet Room. INT. CABINET ROOM - CONTINUOUS And they enter. The group of men at the long, ornate Roosevelt-era table, rise as one. GROUP Good morning, Mr. President. THE PRESIDENT Good morning, gentlemen. And the doors close on the eighteen men of EXCOM: The Executive Committee of the National Security Council. They are the legendary "Best and Brightest." The President makes his way down the line: shakes hands with Secretary of State DEAN RUSK, 53, distinguished, with a soft, Georgian accent, a distant reserve. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) Dean, good morning. RUSK Mr. President. The President leans past him, grasps the hand of the Secretary of Defense ROBERT MCNAMARA, 46, a gifted managerial genius... the price of which is a cold, hard personality. THE PRESIDENT Bob. Bet you had a late night. MCNAMARA Sleep is for the weak, Mr. President. OFF TO THE SIDE, Kenny greets Vice President LYNDON JOHNSON, 54, and ADLAI STEVENSON, 62, Representative to the U.N., intellectual, well-spoken. KENNY Lyndon. Adlai. The silver-haired war hero and politically savvy Chairman of The Joint Chiefs of Staff, GENERAL MAXWELL TAYLOR, 50s, shakes the President's hand. THE PRESIDENT Max. GENERAL TAYLOR McCone's been notified and is coming back from the West coast. Carter's here, though. He gestures to GENERAL MARSHALL CARTER, Deputy Chief of Operations for the CIA. Carter nods to the President. THE CAMERA PANS OVER THE OTHERS. DOUGLAS DILLON, ex-banker, Secretary of the Treasury. ROSWELL GILPATRIC, studious Deputy Secretary of Defense. PAUL NITZE, 55, the detail-driven facts man, Assistant Secretary of Defense. GEORGE BALL, 50s, Undersecretary of State. Eloquent, a man of conscience. U. ALEXIS JOHNSON, Deputy Under Secretary of State. EDWARD MARTIN, Assistant Secretary of State for Latin America. LLEWELLYN THOMPSON, laid back, rumpled Soviet Affairs Advisor. DON WILSON, Deputy Director of the USIA. The President sits down at the center of the table, Rusk and McNamara to either side, and the others resume their seats. Bobby takes one of the over-stuffed chairs at the table. Kenny finds one along the wall behind the President, under the windows to the Rose Garden to TED SORENSEN, 30s, the President's legal counsel and speech writer. They greet each other coolly. KENNY Ted. SORENSEN Kenny. The room falls silent. The President looks across the table to GENERAL CARTER. THE PRESIDENT Okay. Let's have it. GENERAL CARTER Arthur Lundahl heads our photographic interpretation division at CIA. I'll let him and his boys take you through what we've got. Arthur? Lundahl, standing at the end of the room with briefing boards, steps forward with a pointer. LUNDAHL Gentlemen, as most of you now know a U-2 over Cuba on Sunday morning took a series of disturbing photographs. SWINGING THE POINTER AT A BOARD SMASH CUTS US TO: EXT. MISSILE SITE - LOS PALACIOS, CUBA - DAY The sweltering Cuban countryside. Shouting SOVIET ROCKET TROOPS, stripped to the waist, glistening with sweat, machete a clearing under scattered, limp palm trees. LUNDAHL (V.O.) Our analysis at NPIC indicates the Soviet Union has followed its conventional weapons build-up in Cuba with the introduction of surface-to surface medium-range ballistic missiles, or MRBMs. Our official estimate at this time is that this missile system is the SS-4 Sandal. We do not believe these missiles are as yet operational. A bulldozer TEARS through the undergrowth. FILLING THE SCREEN. A 70-foot long MISSILE TRANSPORTER creeps along in the bulldozer's wake like a vast hearse with its shrouded cargo. INT. CABINET ROOM - DAY Lundahl raps his second board: a map of the United States, Cuba visible in the lower corner. An ARC is drawn clearly across the U.S., encompassing the entire Southeast. LUNDAHL IRONBARK reports the SS-4 can deliver a 3-megaton nuclear weapon 1000 miles. So far we have identified 32 missiles served by around 3400 men, undoubtedly all Soviet personnel. Our cities and military installations in the Southeast, as far north as Washington, are in range of these weapons, and in the event of a launch, would only have five minutes of warning. GENERAL CARTER Five minutes, gentlemen. Five minutes. GENERAL TAYLOR In those five minutes they could kill 80 million Americans and destroy a significant number of our bomber bases, degrading our retaliatory options. The Joint Chiefs' consensus is that this is a massively destabilizing move, upsetting the nuclear balance. The President stares at Lundahl, and beating out each word. THE PRESIDENT Arthur. Are. You. Sure? Lundahl looks around the room. Everyone is hanging. LUNDAHL Yes, Mr. President. These are nuclear missiles. The men come to grips with their own fears, own anger. BOBBY How long until they're operational? LUNDAHL General Taylor can answer that question better than I can. General Taylor drops a memo on the table WHICH BECOMES: EXT. FIELD TABLE - MISSILE SITE, CUBA - DAY SCHEMATICS slapped down on a camp table. A group of Soviet site ENGINEERS point and gesture as they study their ground from a shaded hillock. CLEARING CREWS and SURVEYORS work and sweat in the distance. GENERAL TAYLOR (V.O.) GMAIC estimates ten to fourteen days. However, a crash program to ready the missiles could cut that time. INT. CABINET ROOM - DAY Taylor sees the grim looks all around. GENERAL TAYLOR I have to stress that there may be more missiles that we don't know about. We need more U-2 coverage. Kenny lets out his breath. He catches Bobby's eye. This is unbelievable. THE PRESIDENT Is there any indication - anything at all - that suggests they intend to use these missiles in some sort of first strike? GENERAL CARTER Not at present, sir. But I think the prudent answer is we don't know. THE PRESIDENT Do we have any sort of intelligence from CIA on what Khruschev is thinking? GENERAL CARTER No, Mr. President. We don't. We just don't know what's happening inside the Kremlin at that level. BOBBY They lied to us. Two weeks ago Dobrynin told me to my face Khurschev had no intention of putting missiles into Cuba. They said themselves, this is our backyard. There's angry agreement. The President cuts it off. THE PRESIDENT Gentlemen, I want first reactions. Assuming for a moment Khruschev has not gone off the deep end and intends to start World War Three, what are we looking at? Rusk glances to his team at the end of the table. Ball, Johnson, Martin, Thompson and Stevenson. RUSK Mr. President, I believe my team is in agreement. If we permit the introduction of nuclear missiles to a Soviet satellite nation in our hemisphere, the diplomatic consequences will be too terrible to contemplate. The Russians are trying to show the world they can do whatever they want, wherever they want, and we're powerless to stop them. If they succeed... BOBBY It will be Munich all over again. RUSK Appeasement only makes the aggressor more aggressive. Confidence in our security commitments around the world will falter, allies will become unsure in the face of Soviet pressure, and the Soviets will be emboldened to push us even harder. We must remove the missiles one way or another. It seems to me the options are either to build up the crisis 'til they give in, or we hit them. An air strike. There's silence at the table. Some nods. Understanding. THE PRESIDENT Bob? MCNAMARA We've worked up several military scenarios. Before I ask General Taylor to lead us through the various options, I'd like for us to adopt a rule. If we are going to strike, we must agree now that we will do it before the missiles become operational. Because once they are, I don't think we can guarantee getting them all before at least some are launched. And there it is. The clock is running. BUNDY Sir. We need to consider... if we decide to act, there's a good chance we'll end up in a general war. The room falls silent. The President leans back in his chair, studying the circle of men around the table, weighing them. Kenny and the others watch him in silence. A long, dramatic pause. A course that will change history is about to be chosen. The President leans forward, folds his hands on the table. Fated. Grave. THE PRESIDENT It's clear we cannot permit Soviet nuclear missiles in Cuba. We must get those missiles out. EXT. THE ROSE GARDEN - DAY Kenny and Bobby follow the President down a path through the Rose Garden. The shock of the morning has worn off. The President stops, looks at them. THE PRESIDENT I don't think it's going to matter what Khruschev's intentions are. I tell you, right now... I don't see any way around hitting them. A long moment of silence as they move along again. KENNY If we hit 'em, kill a lot of Russians, they'll move against Berlin. They attack Berlin, that's NATO... and we're at war. The guys stop again. The autumn day is bright, warm, alive. The air, the distant city sounds derail the relentless train of logic for a beat. And in their faces we see that all three men, for the first time, feel the enormity of war, its shadow over everything. It's only a couple of steps away. Steps that they're seriously contemplating. BOBBY Damned if we do, but if we don't, we're in a war for sure somewhere else in six months. Pained, the President turns away. THE PRESIDENT No choice. This is going to cost lives any way we go. Do nothing, and it could be 80 million of ours. We have to get rid of those missiles. KENNY There've got to be alternatives to just going out and bombing them. BOBBY He's right, Jack. Taylor is saying we may have some time. We've got to use it. THE PRESIDENT So if there are alternatives that make sense - and I'm not saying there are - we need 'em. Need 'em fast. BOBBY What about the allies? Congress? I think we may need to start letting key people know. And they're all scattered across the country for the campaign. We're going to need to get the U.N. staff in and warmed up. Jesus... I don't even know if we've got secure communications with half our embassies since that the Soviets got that cryptographer of ours. THE PRESIDENT We can't worry about everything right now. We've got to figure out what we're going to do before we worry about how we do it. KENNY The other thing is... BOBBY ... I know. CIA and the military fucked us on the Bay of Pigs. KENNY They're going to be pressing for a military solution soon. We can't afford to let them ram their agenda down our throats. We need to come with options other than air strikes so we have some sort of choice here. BOBBY We got a bunch of smart guys. We lock 'em up together in there, kick 'em in the ass til they come up with options. Kenny and the President look at him. Bobby nods. BOBBY (CONT'D) I'll do it. KENNY (to the President) It's too politicized with you in there, anyway. They need to be able to stick their necks out. BOBBY It'll be the principals, a couple of the key guys from each department: the Executive Committee of the National Security Council. We'll call it EXCOM. Kenny snorts a laugh. Bobby shoots him a cross look. KENNY EXCOM. Has a ring to it. Like F-Troop. The President stops. Bobby and Kenny stop, too. THE PRESIDENT Okay. Kenny and I only show for the meetings you call us into. Impress us. And do it fast. (to Kenny) You're in charge of keeping this quiet. If word gets out before we know what we're going to do, there'll be panic. And it'll ruin any chance of surprise if we decide to hit them. KENNY Then we need to do a few things right away. No Pierre. He knows, the press knows. You're going to have to keep up your schedule - your movements are followed too closely. And we need to get these guys out of the White House. George Ball's got a conference room at State. (to Bobby) Reconvene over there this afternoon, come back here tonight. Bobby nods. BOBBY I think we should bring in Dean Acheson. He was fighting Soviets while we were still working the wards in Boston. The President nods his approval. Looks at Kenny. THE PRESIDENT Find him, Kenny. We're going to need all the help we can get. INT. WEST WING - HALL OUTSIDE PRESS OFFICE - DAY Kenny moves hard and fast through the twisting warren of hallways and tiny offices which is the West Wing. Suddenly, Scotty Reston pops out of a doorway behind Kenny. RESTON Hey, Kenny! Who died? Kenny glances over his shoulder at Scotty who points to a window. A beat, then Kenny returns to look out the window. Outside, the West Wing Drive is FILLED WITH LIMOUSINES. A flash of dismay, but Kenny covers fast. KENNY Way it's going, the Democratic Party. DNC strategy session. If you can call it that. Scotty chuckles. Kenny moves off, leading him away. Kenny's assistant runs up behind him, holding out a slip of paper. ASSISTANT Sir? Kenny tries to look him away. RESTON It's Tuesday. You said to call. When do I get my 45 minutes? KENNY Tell you what. We're in Connecticut tomorrow for Ribicoff. I'll get you up front with him during the flight. RESTON Deal. ASSISTANT Sir. Kenny turns, harsh KENNY What is it? The Assistant eyes Scotty, holds his tongue. Kenny takes the slips. ASSISTANT The number you asked for. KENNY I ask for a lot of 'em. Whose is it? ASSISTANT Dean Acheson's, sir. That shuts Kenny up. Reston eyes the slip, then looks to Kenny's face. And he knows something isn't right here. KENNY Gotta go, Scotty. See you tomorrow. INT. TREASURY BUILDING GARAGE - NIGHT A car jolts to a stop. The CAMERA PANS up over the sagging suspension, the government plates, the hood ornament revealing half of EXCOM inside. Kenny stands nearby waiting for them. The doors open, and out they pile like a bunch of clowns: Bobby, McNamara, Rusk, Ball, Martin, Dioptric, Sorensen, Stevenson, and Nitze. They're sitting in each others' laps, banging their heads on the roof, joking, but tense. BOBBY Screw secrecy. You try having that fat ass sit on your lap all the way from Foggy Bottom. MCNAMARA You were excited. I say no more. The gang falls in behind Kenny, trails him out of the garage. INT. TUNNEL TO WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT A steel door unlocks, swings open, and Kenny marches at the head of the wedge of men into a long tunnel. It's the infamous old passage from the Treasury to the White House. Kenny and Bobby get a little ahead of the others. BOBBY Everybody agrees the diplomatic route is out. It's too slow, and they'll have the missiles finished. Kenny looks at him. Then there's only one alternative. The CAMERA wipes through the ceiling to: EXT. WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT GROUND LEVEL. Where the brilliantly-lit flag flutters over the spotlit White House: their destination. INT. CABINET ROOM - NIGHT GENERAL WALTER 'CAM' SWEENEY, head of Tactical Air Command, stands at the head of the table with a presentation board. The men of EXCOM gather around Sweeney in their rumpled shirts, nursing coffee and cigarettes. GENERAL SWEENEY We have 850 planes assembling at Homestead, Eglin, Opa Locka, MacDill, Patrick, Pensacola and Key West. SMASH CUT TO: EXT. HOMESTEAD AFB - FLORIDA - NIGHT An F-100 Super Sabre stands under lights on a taxiway. The CAMERA DESCENDS FROM ITS OVERHEAD SHOT, discovering the aircraft's sleek cockpit, menacing tiger-jaw paint job, the four 20mm cannons on its nose. GENERAL SWEENEY (V.O.) Due to the tropical foliage, the OPLAN calls for high-explosive and napalm loadouts for our ground attack sorties. PULL BACK TO REVEAL: The FLIGHT LINE where a full strike wing stands beyond this plane, pylons laden with weapons, GROUND CREW servicing them. INT. CABINET ROOM - CONTINUOUS Other EXCOM members draw near the board, its order of battle, strike maps. They're grim, but fascinated. Empowering. Intoxicating. Sexy. Kenny sees it in the faces, even the President's. Adlai does too, is upset. ADLAI I still think there are diplomatic approaches we haven't considered yet. Kenny looks at Adlai. The others around the room, embarrassed, don't respond. The group has moved on and Stevenson hasn't. GENERAL TAYLOR We have high confidence in the expanded air strike option. (beat) The problem, Mr. President, is that it's a short-term solution. Khruschev can send more missiles next month. The Chiefs and I believe we should follow up the air strikes with the full version of OPLAN 316. THE PRESIDENT An invasion... GENERAL TAYLOR Yes, sir. We can be sure we get all the missiles, and we remove Castro so this can never happen again. Kenny looks around the room at the men, the murmurs of general agreement, senses the consensus building and is agitated. THE PRESIDENT Is this the Chiefs' recommendation? GENERAL TAYLOR Yes, sir. Our best option is to commence the strikes before the missiles are operational. The invasion happens eight days later. The President leans back in his chair, turns to the man at the far end of the table: DEAN ACHESON, 60s, former Secretary of State. He sits silent, like some revered oracle, the architect of the American Cold War strategy of containment. THE PRESIDENT Dean. What do you think? Acheson arches an eyebrow, and when he speaks, his voice resonates throughout the room, powerful, smooth, hypnotic. ACHESON Mr. President, you have rightly dismissed the diplomatic option. The Soviet will only tie you down in negotiation, and leave us short of our goal, the removal of the missiles. Negotiating will do nothing more than give them time to make the missiles operational, complicating the necessary military task we have at hand. Everyone in the room listens to him with rapt attention, his presence overshadowing the room, oracular: ACHESON (CONT'D) For the last fifteen years, I have fought here at this table along side your predecessors in the struggle against the Soviet. Gentlemen, I do not wish to seem melodramatic, but I do wish to impress upon you one observation with all conceivable sincerity. A lesson I have learned with bitter tears and great sacrifice. (beat) The Soviet understands only one language: action. It respects only one word: force. Kenny stares at the old man. Acheson's gaze finds his through the cigarette smoke. Acheson's eyes travel to the President. ACHESON (CONT'D) I concur with General Taylor. I recommend, sir, air strikes followed by invasion, perhaps preceded by an ultimatum to dismantle the missiles if military necessity permits. Taylor nods, vindicated. The others murmur their approval. Bobby, at the table in front of Kenny and to his left, trades a dire look with Kenny. This is happening too fast. Bobby holds his head, looks about at the others, deeply distressed. The President sinks back in his chair, staring at Acheson. THE PRESIDENT Then it appears we have three options. Number one. A surgical air strike against the missiles themselves. Two, a larger air strike against their air defenses along with the missiles. Kenny eyes Bobby. Bobby is writing something. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) And three, invasion. Bobby looks over his shoulder at Kenny, and REACHES BACK to him with a folded NOTE. Kenny takes it, opens it. It reads NOW I KNOW WHO TOJO FELT PLANNING PEARL HARBOR. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) We're certainly going to do number one; we're going to take out these missiles, so it seems to me we don't have to wait very long. We ought to at least be making those preparations. Kenny gives Bobby a curt nod. Bobby tilts his head at the President: pass the note on to him. Kenny rises, slips the note in front of the President. The President unfolds the note, and we HOLD ON IT and his reaction as in the b.g., out of focus, Taylor speaks: GENERAL TAYLOR Yes, sir, we're preparing to implement all three options, though I must stress again, sir, there are risks to the strikes without the follow-on invasion. Bundy clears his throat. Speaks from somewhere down the table. BUNDY You want to be clear, Mr. President, that we have definitely decided against a political track. The President folds the note away, glances at Bobby. A beat, the President looks from Bobby to Acheson. THE PRESIDENT Dean, how does this play out? ACHESON Your first step, sir, will be to demand that the Soviet withdraw the missiles within 12 to 24 hours. They will refuse. When they do, you will order the strikes, followed by the invasion. They will resist, but will be overrun. They will retaliate against a target somewhere else in the world, most likely Berlin. We will honor our treaty commitments and resist them there, defeating them per our plans. THE PRESIDENT Those plans call for the use of nuclear weapons. (beat) And what is the next step? Acheson sits back in his chair, smooths his moustache. A dramatic beat, and then his ominous pronouncement rings out: ACHESON Hopefully cooler heads will prevail before we reach the next step. A chill runs down Kenny's spine. He looks in shock to the President. The President remains calm. But in place of the fated look the President has had, there's a hesitation. INT. WEST WING HALLS - NIGHT Acheson strides down the hall, Taylor, Sweeney, Carter and Bundy swept along behind him. Bundy is on the defensive, the others grim. GENERAL TAYLOR If McNamara'd get off the fence... BUNDY We have time. GENERAL CARTER Goddamn it, it's obvious. It's the only option. That asshole, Stevenson. We can't let this drag out or we lose our shot. BUNDY Bombing them... ACHESON Remember that the Kennedys' father was one of the architects of Munich. The General is right. There is only one responsible choice here. Bundy just nods. Taylor grabs a door ahead for Acheson. ACHESON (CONT'D) Let's pray appeasement doesn't run in families. I fear weakness does. And the men head into a stairwell going down. INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT Grimacing in pain. He opens a pill bottle, takes two pills out. He takes a whiskey in a shot glass from Kenny. RESUME Kenny finishes pouring him and Bobby a couple of more shots, discreetly turning a blind eye to the President's pain. The President returns from his desk, shirt untucked, disheveled, back stiff. He eases into his rocking chair. Bobby lies sprawled on the couch. Kenny sits down. They all look at each other. A beat, something like shock. KENNY Jesus Christ Almighty... They burst out laughing. An absurd, tension draining moment. They shoot their drinks, Kenny refills. KENNY (CONT'D) Call me Irish, but I don't believe in cooler heads prevailing. THE PRESIDENT Acheson's scenario is unacceptable. And he has more experience than anyone. KENNY There is no expert on this subject, no wise old man. The President stares Kenny in the face, understanding. THE PRESIDENT The thing is, Acheson's right. Talk alone won't accomplish anything. Kenny considers the President, his face straight as he says: KENNY Then let's bomb the shit out of them. Everyone wants to, even you, even me. (there's a point) It sure would feel good. The President sees what Kenny's saying: it'd be an emotional response, not necessarily the intelligent one. BOBBY Jack, I'm as conniving as they come, but a sneak attack is just wrong. KENNY He's right. And things are happening too fast. It smells like the Bay of Pigs all over again. Bobby picks up some reconnaissance photos on the coffee table. BOBBY As if dealing with the Russians wasn't hard enough, we gotta worry about our own house. THE PRESIDENT Tonight, listening to Taylor and Acheson, I kept seeing Burke and Dulles telling me all I had to do was sign on the dotted line. The invasion would succeed. Castro would be gone. Just like that. Easy. The President is rendered mute by a wave of pain. Kenny and Bobby aver their eyes. When it passes, the President is hushed, grave. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) There's something...immoral about abandoning your own judgement. Kenny nods, moved. The President reaches out for the reconnaissance photos Bobby's flipping through. Bobby hands them to him. The President looks them over. And when he speaks, there's humility. And resolve. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) We can't let things get ahead of themselves. We've got to control what happens. We're going to do what we have to make this come out right. EXCOM is our first weapon. (beat) We'll resort to others as we need 'em. EXT. AIRPORT - BRIDGEPOINT, CONNECTICUT - DAY SUPER: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17TH. DAY 2 A LONG SHOT of an ENORMOUS CROWD thronging a bunting-trimmed platform. The President, barely recognizable at the distance, and a cluster of political VIPS wave from it, smiling. Kenny steps INTO FRAME, back here at the fringes of the crowd. THE PRESIDENT (O.S.) Doesn't anybody in Connecticut have to work today? The crowd goes nuts. Kenny paces, checks his watch, impatient to be done with the necessary diversion. Kenny gazes off to his right and spots Scotty Reston, along with half the White House press corps suckered along. Scotty catches Kenny's look. Kenny turns away, but Scotty comes weaving over. The President continues on, but all we hear is Scotty and Kenny. RESTON Kenny! What happened? They didn't let me up front, said the President was on the phone the whole time. KENNY He was. RESTON Yeah? Who was he talking to? Acheson? Come on, O'Donnell, everyone's wondering what's going on. What's Acheson doing in town? And don't give me some bullshit about DNC think tanks. Acheson's Mr. Cold War. KENNY Why don't you ask him yourself? You can have him on the way home. RESTON I'm giving you a chance here: talk to me. You can influence how this thing unfolds. But Kenny stands there, mute. Reston just shakes his head, knowing for sure something's up. He turns and heads back for the press corps. EXT. STAIRS TO AIR FORCE ONE - DAY Kenny and the President climb the stairs to the Presidential plane, the crowd cheering him. He gives a final wave. THE PRESIDENT Let's get out of here. KENNY Cheer up, you've neutralized the entire White House Press Corps for a day. INT. GEORGE BALL'S CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY EXCOM meets in George Ball's small conference room at the State Department. Bobby, in shirtsleeves, paces at the head of the table, very, very alone. All eyes are on him. BOBBY No. No. No. There is more than one option here. If one isn't occurring to us, it's because we haven't thought hard enough. McNamara squirms. The others react in frustration. CIA chief JOHN MCCONE, sharp, tough, conservative, is harsh. MCCONE Sometimes there is only one right choice, and you thank God when it's clear. BOBBY You're talking about a sneak attack! How'll that make us look? Big country blasting a little one into the stone age. We'll be real favorites around the world. ACHESON Bobby, that's naive. This is the real world, you know that better than anybody. Your argument is ridiculous. MCCONE You weren't so ethically particular when we were talking about options for removing Castro over at CIA. And there's nothing Bobby can say to that. He props himself up on the table, stares at it as if there's an answer in its shiny surface somewhere. There is only the reflection of his own face. BOBBY I can't let my brother go down in History like a villain, like a Tojo, ordering another Pearl Harbor. McCone, Acheson, and Taylor share a look. The last resistance to airstrikes is crumbling. Finally, Bobby looks up at McNamara. BOBBY (CONT'D) Bob. If we go ahead with these air strikes... (beat) There's got to be something else. Give it to me. I don't care how crazy, inadequate or stupid it sounds. (beat, pleading) Give it to me. McNamara suffers under the gaze of everyone at the table, weighing the situation out. And finally he ventures. MCNAMARA Six months ago we gamed out a scenario. It's slow. It doesn't get rid of the missiles. There are a lot of drawbacks. (beat) The scenario was for a blockade of Cuba. SUPER: THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18TH. DAY 3 INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY Kenny enters the office from his side door in the middle of a debate. Military uniforms dominate the room: General Taylor, General Sweeney, and a host of briefing officers. GENERAL TAYLOR The situation is worse than we thought. We count 40 missiles now, longer range IRBMs. They can hit every city in the continental U.S. The President stares out the window at the Rose Garden, his back to Air Force Chief of Staff GENERAL CURTIS LEMAY, 60. Beetle-browed, arrogant, the archetypal Cold War general. Yet there is something about him, his intelligence perhaps, that suggests he's playing a role he knows and believes in. The only other civilians in the room are Bobby, Bundy and McNamara. The pressure from the military is almost physical. LEMAY Mr. President, as of this moment my planes are ready to carry out the air strikes. All you have to do is give me the word, sir, and my boys will get those Red bastards. The President continues staring out the window. Kenny eases over to the desk, leans on it, arms folded, interposing himself between the President and the soldiers. Bobby joins him, side-by-side. THE PRESIDENT How long until the army is ready? GENERAL TAYLOR We've just begun the mobilization under cover of a pre-arranged exercise, sir. We're looking at another week and a half, Mr. President. LEMAY But you can begin the strikes, now. The plans call for an eight-day air campaign. It'd light a fire under the army's ass to get in place. That makes the President turn around, stare at LeMay. THE PRESIDENT General LeMay, do you truly believe that's our best course of action? LEMAY Mr. President, I believe it is the only course of action. American is in danger. Those missiles are a threat to our bomber bases and the safety of our nuclear deterrent. Without our deterrent, there's nothing to keep the enemy from choosing general nuclear war. It's our duty, our responsibility to the American people to take out those missiles and return stability to the strategic situation. The Big Red Dog is digging in our back yard, and we're justified in shooting him. Taylor steps in softly, smoothly: good cop to LeMay's bad. GENERAL TAYLOR Sir, we have a rapidly closing window of opportunity where we can prevent those missiles from ever becoming operational. The other options... He spares a look at McNamara, who watches the fireworks, arms folded, serious. GENERAL TAYLOR (CONT'D) ...do not guarantee the end result we can guarantee. However, the more time that goes by, the less reliable the choice we can offer you becomes. The President, partially defused, looks from Taylor to McNamara. LeMay steps forward, softer now, sincere. LEMAY Mr. President, the motto I chose for SAC is 'Peace is our Profession.' God forbid we find ourselves in a nuclear exchange. But if launched, those missiles in Cuba would kill a lot of Americans. That's why I'm being such a pain in the ass about destroying them. Destroying them immediately. Hell, even Mac agrees. Bundy is uncomfortable. Everyone turns to him. He nods. Kenny realizes he's been co-opted by the military. McNamara does too, lets out a deep breath. The President eyes Bundy, then paces out from behind his desk, walks up to LeMay. THE PRESIDENT General, what will the Soviets do when we attack? LEMAY Nothing. Kenny, Bobby and the President look at each other, unable to believe what they just heard. THE PRESIDENT Nothing? LEMAY Nothing. Because the only alternative open to them is one they can't choose. His pronouncement hangs there in the air: ominous, dangerous. THE PRESIDENT Those aren't just missiles we'll be destroying. We kill Soviet soldiers, and they will respond. How would we respond if they killed ours? No, they will do something, General, I promise you that. And I believe it'll be Berlin. INT. WEST WING HALLWAY - DAY LeMay walk out of the Oval Office with Taylor, Carter and their staffers. LEMAY Those goddamn Kennedys are going to destroy this country if we don't do something about this. There are dark looks on the faces of the other officers. They agree. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY As the meeting next door disperses, the President rummages through Kenny's jacket which hangs on Kenny's chair. Kenny, bemused, holds out the package of cigarettes the President is looking for. KENNY I was hoping LeMay pushed you. I wouldn't mind going a few rounds with him. The President glances up, takes the proffered smokes. THE PRESIDENT We knew it was coming. I tell you, Kenny, these brass hats have one big advantage. We do what they want us to, none of us will be alive to tell 'em they were wrong. Bobby, Rusk and Sorensen enter from the hall. SORENSEN Mr. President, Gromyko should be on his way by now. RUSK We need to go over what you're going to say. BOBBY There's still no sign they know that we know about the missiles. Been a lot of cloud cover; probably think we aren't getting any good product. THE PRESIDENT We keep 'em in the dark as long as we can. But I sure as hell am going to test him. INT. WEST WING HALL - DAY Kenny comes out of the bathroom, and is buttonholed by the crewcut, bullet-headed Press Secretary, PIERRE SALINGER, in the crowded, busy hallway. SALINGER Kenny, I'm getting funny questions from the guys in the press office. As Press Secretary, I need to know. What's going on? Kenny wheels back into his office. It's filled with people. But he bends confidentially to Pierre's ear. KENNY They're planning to shave you bald next time you fall asleep on the bus. (off Pierre's get-serious look) Sorry, Pierre, Gromyko just arrived. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY The Press Corps throngs Kenny's tiny office, pushing and shoving for a vantage at the side door to the Oval Office, waiting for the Gromyko photo-op. Kenny stands shoulder-to shoulder with Reston and Sorensen near the door. RESTON Are they going to discuss the military exercises going on in Florida? Kenny doesn't even blink, but Sorensen does a poorer job at hiding his reaction. KENNY Come on, Scotty. This meeting's been on the books for months. It's just a friendly talk on U.S.-Soviet relations. Fortunately, the conversation is cut short as a dozen FLASHBULBS suddenly go off on a dozen cameras as the reporters crush in on the Oval Office, and Reston is swept forward. KENNY'S POV: over the reporters. The President, unsmiling, enters the room beside Soviet Foreign Minister, ANDREI GROMYKO. Gromyko pauses for the photos: grim, dark haired, saturnine. RESUME Kenny reacts. At last, the face of the enemy. INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT The CAMERA picks up the darkened windows: the meeting has gone long. The CAMERA MOVES PAST Kenny and Sorensen standing in the doorway to Kenny's office, FINDS the President in his chair across from Gromyko on the sofa. Rusk, Ambassador ANATOLY DOBRINYN, and two INTERPRETERS around them. THE PRESIDENT So that there should be no misunderstanding, the position of the United States, which has been made clear by the Attorney General to Ambassador Dobrynin here, I shall read a sentence from my own statement to the press dated September 13th. (beat, reading) Should missiles or offensive weapons be placed in Cuba, it would present the gravest threat to U.S. national security. The President stares at Gromyko as the translator finishes translating. Gromyko sits there, enigmatic, cold, unreadable. The translator finishes, and Gromyko stops him with a gesture so he can answer in his own accented English. GROMYKO Mr. President, this will never be done. You need not be concerned. The President hides his fury masterfully, and gazing over his glasses, asks: THE PRESIDENT So I do not misunderstand you: there are no offensive weapons in Cuba. A beat. And Gromyko's response is flat, sure, steady: GROMYKO No, Mr. President. We have sent defensive weapons only to Cuba. Kenny's blazing eyes could drill holes in the back of Gromyko's head. His gaze swings to the PRESIDENT'S DESK. BENEATH THE DESK sit the BRIEFING BOARDS with the evidence. INT. WEST WING HALLWAY - NIGHT Kenny emerges from his office. The Soviet delegation disappears down the hallway with Rusk. Kenny turns as Bobby, haggard, comes up from the other direction. Bobby gestures to the vanishing delegation, now being HARANGUED OC by the press. BOBBY What happened? The President comes out of the next door down the hall, the Oval Office. He turns and sees Kenny and Bobby. He's livid. THE PRESIDENT Lying bastard. Lied to my face. BOBBY We're split down the middle. If I held a vote I think airstrike would beat blockade by a vote or two. THE PRESIDENT I want a consensus, Bobby. Consensus. Either air strike or blockade. Something everyone'll stand by even if they don't like it. I need it by Saturday. Make it happen. BOBBY What if I can't? KENNY We go into this split, the Russians will know it. And they'll use it against us. The prospect disturbs the three men. THE PRESIDENT Have you cancelled Chicago and the rest of the weekend yet? KENNY You don't show for Chicago, everyone'll know there's something going on. THE PRESIDENT I don't care. Cancel it. KENNY No way. The President spins on him, unsure he heard correctly. KENNY (CONT'D) I'm not calling and cancelling on Daly. You call and cancel on Daly. THE PRESIDENT You're scared to cancel on Daly. KENNY Damn right I'm scared. The President pauses, looks at Bobby. Bobby shakes his head: don't look at me. THE PRESIDENT Well, I'm not. BOBBY Then you'll call, right? INT. HALLWAY - SHERATON-BLACKSTONE HOTEL - NIGHT SUPER: FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19TH. DAY 4 THEN SUPER: CHICAGO Kenny threads his way through the host of SECRET SERVICE AGENTS and ADVANCE MAN cramming the hallway on the floor of the hotel they've taken over. From one of the rooms emerges Salinger. SALINGER Kenny, all right. What's going on here? There's rumors going around an exercise in the southeast is related to Cuba. I'm the Press Secretary. I can't do my job if I don't know what's going on. So what's going on? KENNY What are you telling them? SALINGER The truth: I don't know. KENNY (deadly serious) Tell 'em you've looked into it, and all it is is an exercise. And Pierre -- (beat, loaded) The President may have a cold tomorrow. Kenny stares at him, and the light dawns on Pierre. Something big is going on and he's been cut out of it. He stalks off. SALINGER Damn it, Kenny. Goddamn it! INT. RECEPTION HALL - SHERATON-BLACKSTONE - NIGHT A big 100-dollar-a-plate dinner is in full swing to a dinner band's tunes. The President and Chicago MAYOR RICHARD DALY make the rounds among the fund raising CROWD. Kenny follows them at a respectful distance, greeting old cronies. Suddenly a MESSENGER hustles over to Kenny, hands him a note. Kenny makes eye contact with the President, nods and leaves. INT. HOTEL ELEVATORS - NIGHT Kenny waits at the elevator. Scotty saunters up behind him. He sizes Kenny up, clears his throat. Kenny turns around. RESTON There are major rail disruptions in the South, two airborne divisions are on alert. That exercise is an invasion. KENNY Well, you know how Bobby has it in for the State of Mississippi. RESTON This is about Cuba. Kenny freezes, then explodes. KENNY Cuba? You're fucking crazy. We are not invading Cuba. Nobody gives a rat's ass about Cuba. Not now, not ever. If you print something like that, all you're going to do is inflame the situation. Nobody talks to assholes who inflame situations. Assholes like that can find themselves cut out of the loop. Reston is taken aback. Stung silence for a beat. Kenny's response is far louder than any "yes." Now Kenny realizes it. RESTON You've never threatened me before. And Kenny looks away, upset, but when he turns back to Reston, all that's there is his poker face. The elevator arrives. RESTON (CONT'D) All right. I'm not going to print anything until I have another source. But I promise you, I'll get one. Kenny boards the elevator. The doors shut on Scotty. INT. ELEVATOR - CONTINUOUS Kenny closes his eyes, sags against the wall, hating himself. INT. KENNY'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS Kenny enters his hotel room. An Assistant waits with the phone, hands it straight to Kenny. KENNY (to Assistant) Tell Pierre I need to talk to him. (to phone) Bobby? INT. OUTER ROOM - GEORGE BALL'S OFFICE - NIGHT EXCOM files past Bobby out of George Ball's conference room. BOBBY Bring him back. EXT. STREET OUTSIDE SHERATON-BLACKSTONE HOTEL - DAY SUPER: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20TH. DAY 5 The President emerges from the hotel, a HAT on his head. The Press and a CROWD surge forward, crying out for the President's attention. Kenny slides into the limo first as the President waves to the crowd. Salinger waits on the sidewalk, and after the limo pulls away, the Press pushes in on him. Pierre's face is pale - he's just been told everything. SALINGER The President has a cold. He is cancelling the remainder of this trip and is returning to Washington on the advice of his doctor. INT. WHITE HOUSE MANSION - OVAL ROOM - DAY The White House Oval ROOM: opulent, filled with priceless art and furniture, but cramped. EXCOM members crowd around the center coffee table and the President. Kenny stands behind him with Bobby. Rusk rises from his seat, formal. RUSK Mr. President, our deliberations have led us to the conclusion that, for the moment, a blockade of offensive weapons to Cuba is our best option. But we'll still need a strong showing of support from the Organization of American States to give us an umbrella of legitimacy. At long last... Kenny looks at Bobby, relieved. They've bought time to find a settlement. Bobby smiles a small smile: what were you so worried about? MCNAMARA A blockade is technically an act of war, therefore we recommend calling the action a quarantine. McNamara folder in hand, opens it, SMASH CUTTING US TO: EXT. ATLANTIC OCEAN - DAY A SOVIET FREIGHTER churning its way south. MCNAMARA (V.O.) There are between 20 and 30 Soviet ships underway to Cuba at this time. The CAMERA races along its side, discovering TARPULINED OBJECTS on deck, and on its stack, the RED HAMMER AND SICKLE. MCNAMARA (V.O.) (CONT'D) 800 miles out, the navy will stop them, board, and any vessels containing weapons will be turned back. CUT TO: The Destroyer U.S.S. JOHN R. PIERCE putting out to sea, SAILORS racing over its deck, through hatches to its 5-inch gun turrets. The ship races by, AMERICAN FLAG streaming from its stern distaff, FILLING THE SCREEN, WIPING TO: INT. WHITE HOUSE MANSION - OVAL ROOM - CONTINUOUS The President. He listens, looks over the briefing papers as McNamara continues. Everyone watches the President. MCNAMARA A quarantine prevents more missiles from reaching Cuba, but it doesn't remove the ones already there. It gives the Soviets a chance to pull back without war. If they refuse to remove the missiles before they're operational, we retain the option to strike or invade. BOBBY We believe that a surprise attack would be counter to what the United States stands for. We believe that an attack leaves us no room for maneuver, and the inevitable Soviet response will force us into a war we do not want. A war that, this time, will really end all war. MCCONE Mr. President, there are still those of us who believe we should proceed with the strikes. With the blockade, we lose strategic surprise and we run the risk of a first strike if the Soviets decide they have to use the missiles or lose them. The President gazes from one expectant face to another. But he himself remains unreadable. THE PRESIDENT Quarantine or air strike. Adlai clears his throat. Everyone looks over at him. He stares down at his clasped hands for a beat. He's anguished about what he's going to say. ADLAI There is a third option. With either course we undertake the risk of nuclear war. It seems to me maybe one of us in here should be a coward. He smiles weakly, but gets no response from anyone. ADLAI (CONT'D) So I guess I'll be. Our third choice is to cut a deal. We trade Guantanamo and our missiles in Turkey, get them to pull their missiles out. We employ a back channel, attribute the idea to U Thant. U Thant then raises it at the U.N. Adlai looks for support around the room, but meets only stony gazes. From McCone and General Taylor, contempt. Dead silence for a long, long beat. Kenny's heart goes out to Stevenson as he watches the man commit political suicide. Even Sorensen, standing behind him, unconsciously moves away. At last the President speaks. THE PRESIDENT I don't think that's possible, Adlai. (beat, to the room) I will be asking the networks for air time Monday night. I have not yet made my final decision. We will announce our course of action then. I want to thank you all for your advice, gentlemen. EXT. TRUMAN BALCONY - DAY Kenny, Bobby, and the President lean on the railing of the Truman Balcony, stare out at the city. BOBBY Goddman Stevenson. Jesus. Peace at any price. You'd think nobody learned anything from World War Two. THE PRESIDENT Somebody had to say it. I respect Adlai for having the guts to risk looking like an appeaser. BOBBY We have to pull him. He's not going to be able to handle the Soviets in front of the U.N. Zorin will eat him alive. THE PRESIDENT We've got bigger problems right now. KENNY We have to try the blockades. It probably won't work. It may just be delaying the inevitable. But we can't just go to war without trying not to. THE PRESIDENT I don't know. I don't know. He stares out at the Ellipse where a little-league football game sweeps across the grass, the shouts and screams of the CHILDREN, so alive, floating to them on the wind. EXT. PATIO - JIM ROWE'S HOUSE - NIGHT A crowded D.C. party spills out of Jim Rowe's house onto his patio. Kenny steps INTO FRAME. He looks at the PARTYGOERS, the Washington social set. He stands out, oppressed by the knowledge he's unable to share. He takes a stiff drink. Suddenly out of the house totters Adlai, highball in hand. Glassy-eyed, he grins at Kenny and joins him. ADLAI Just can't get away from you guys. Escaping for a night on the town, eh? KENNY As the town's most popular playboy, the President felt my presence would be sorely missed. So in the interests of National Security... Kenny shrugs. Adlai takes a long drink, closes his eyes. ADLAI Gotta keep up appearances. Of course, I don't care anymore. I'm a political dead man. You ever seen a man cut his own throat like I did today? Kenny has no answer to that. He looks down, pained for Adlai. ADLAI (CONT'D) Well, it's all right. (beat) I came to tell you, just talked to a friend. Reston and Frankel have the story. It's going to run tomorrow. INT. BEDROOM - JIM ROWE'S HOUSE - LATER Kenny, shut in the bedroom, paces on the phone. KENNY We're not going to make it to Monday. I'll try to lean on Reston, but you're going to have to call Orville Dryfoos. This is the sort of decision the publisher makes himself. INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS New York Times publisher ORVILLE DRYFOOS sits at his kitchen table in his underwear, still half-asleep, phone to his ear. DRYFOOS Yes, sir, I understand. But we held on Bay of Pigs and it was the biggest mistake of my life. What makes this any different? INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS The President, on the phone, stops pacing by his bedside table and exhales. THE PRESIDENT I'm asking you to hold the story until I can present our course of action on Monday night. INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS DRYFOOS All right. But I need a reason to give my boys. They're going to be screaming for my head on a plate. INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS THE PRESIDENT Orville. I want you to tell them this: they'll be saving lives. Maybe even including their own. INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS At that, Dryfoos sits up. Serious. All resistance gone. DRYFOOS Yes, Mr. President. INT. ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH - DAY SUPER: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21ST. DAY 6 AVE MARIA soars over the communion meditation at a crowded Sunday mass. Kenny, in a pew, glances off to his left. The President sits nearby, head bowed. But Kenny knows he's not thinking about the mass. And when the President at last lifts his head, Kenny sees the calm poise. The President has made up his mind... INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY Bobby barges into Kenny's office. Kenny, knowing his unique entry, doesn't bother to look up. KENNY Acheson called, DeGaulle's with us; haven't heard from anyone else yet. Kenny finally looks up. Bobby's grim. And an icicle forms in Kenny's gut as Bobby relays. BOBBY He wants to talk to LeMay again. INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY Kenny, Bobby, McNamara, Rusk, Bundy and half of EXCOM stand to the side of the room. General Sweeney and LeMay stand in front of the President's desk. The President, bowed in the window, is care-worn, a thousand years old. The shadow, the composition of the SHOT tells us all. It's down to what's in the heart of one man. Kenny is deeply moved at his friend's Gethsemane. THE PRESIDENT Cam, can you guarantee me you'll get all the missiles? Sweeney glances at LeMay. LeMay's stern, frozen look wills him to say, very simply, "yes." But then the President turns around, looks Sweeney in the eye. It would make Machiavelli himself tell the truth. GENERAL SWEENEY Sir, I can guarantee we'll get all the missiles we know about. The President holds Sweeney in his gaze. Thank you. LEMAY Mr. President, we can get better than ninety percent of them. The President doesn't respond to LeMay's last-ditch appeal. Ninety-percent isn't good enough with nuclear weapons. He moves to his desk, signs a paper, hands it to General Sweeney. THE PRESIDENT As of seven o'clock Monday night, all United States armed forces world wide will stand up to DEFCON 3. EXT. BARKSDALE AFB - SUNSET SUPER: MONDAY, OCTOBER 22ND. DAY 7 A DEAFENING WHINE. And INTO FRAME yawns the enormous spinning mouth of a B-52 bomber jet engine. It closes on us, sucking us in like a maelstrom, but at the last second the CAMERA SLIPSTREAMS OVER IT -- -- carrying us over the aircraft's wing. The CAMERA pivots and the vast war machine crawls away underneath joining -- -- a long LINE of identical behemoths, in single file inching down a taxi way which vanishes into the distance. As the plane's immense vertical tail WIPES OUR VIEW: EXT. MISSILE SILO - NIGHT The CAMERA races toward a spotlighted concrete emplacement, over the immense BLAST DOOR which is sliding open, and DOWN -- INT. MISSILE SILO - CONTINUOUS -- into the depths of a missile silo. The CAMERA speeds down the side of the Titan missile, through CLOUDS of steaming liquid hydrogen, past FUELING HOSES which clamp one by one to the rocket's side, past GANTRY ARMS pulling away. The CAMERA hurtles all the way to the bottom, SMASHING THROUGH THE FLOOR TO: EXT. CARRIBEAN SEA - NIGHT The dark ocean, whitecaps whipping luminous around the aircraft carrier, U.S.S. ESSEX and her escorts. Running lights flash red and green. The carrier's SIREN begins a lonely, eerie WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP like some immense creature which has lost its mind. The ship FILLS THE SCREEN, CUTTING US INTO: INT. WEST WING - CONTINUOUS The doors to the Cabinet room. A beat. Then they SWING WIDE. The President emerges, livid fury on his face, leaving chaos behind: the Congressional briefing. Kenny comes out a beat later, catches up with him. KENNY You'd worry that something was wrong if Congress offered you unconditional support. THE PRESIDENT They want this fucking job, they can have it. It's no great joy to me. The President exhales, getting control. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) The elected representatives of the people have spoken... (beat; determined) Now let's tell the people... INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT Kenny stands there in the doorway, arms folded. As we PULL AWAY FROM HIM, we REVEAL the three NETWORK T.V. CAMERAS staring straight at us. Their red lights go on as one, and we swing around REVERSING TO: The President at his desk: telegenic, powerful. THE PRESIDENT Good evening, my fellow citizens. This Government, as promised, has maintained the closest surveillance of the Soviet military build-up on the island of Cuba... EXT. BARKSDALE AFB - NIGHT The first B-52 trundles to a stop at the end of the runway. It begins to throttle-up, the ROAR of its engine mounting... THE PRESIDENT (V.O.) ...unmistakable evidence has now established the fact that a series of missile sites is in preparation on that imprisoned island. The purpose of these bases can be none other than to proved a nuclear strike capability against the Western Hemisphere... -- AND DROWNING OUT the President's speech as the plane lurches forward, down the runway into the night. EXT. MISSILE SILO - NIGHT The Titan solo door GRINDS OPEN. And the missile inside begins to rise into the white bath of the crossed spotlights. THE PRESIDENT (V.O.) Therefore, in the defense of our own security and under the authority of the Constitution, I have directed that the following initial steps be taken. First, to halt this offensive build-up, a strict quarantine -- EXT. CARRIBEAN SEA - NIGHT The President's words conjure the ESSEX battlegroup, its destroyers plunging through heavy seas, lit up in the night. THE PRESIDENT (V.O.) -- on all offensive military equipment under shipment to Cuba is being initiated. All ships of any kind bound for Cuba, if found to contain cargoes of offensive weapons, will be turned back. Second: I have directed the continued and increased close surveillance of Cuba and its military build-up. Should these offensive military preparations continue, further action will be justified -- EXT. OVER THE FLORIDA STRAITS - NIGHT A flight of F-4 PHANTOMS drops INTO FRAME, lights flashing. THE PRESIDENT (V.O.) -- I have directed the Armed Forces to prepare for any eventualities. INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT A beat. And the President looks up from his notes. THE PRESIDENT And third: it shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the Western Hemisphere as an attack by the Soviet Union on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union... The chilling words hang there in the air. BLEEDING IN: the rising and falling WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP which becomes -- EXT. CARRIBEAN SEA - NIGHT -- the voice of the Essex battlegroup: sparkling, alive, a constellation of lights scattered across the sea. One by one the escort ships answer the carrier's SIREN with their own wailing cries, an alien chorus among the ships, disappearing and reappearing in the swells. The communication crescendos to its fever pitch -- -- and then the battlegroup goes to blackout. Like a dying universe, the answering sirens cut off, the life-lights wink out, and an appalling darkness falls across the sea... FADE OUT BLACKNESS, LIKE BEFORE A CURTAIN RISES. And then a flickering: a FLUORESCENT LIGHT COMES ON. INT. BATHROOM - WEST WING - DAY SUPER: TUESDAY, OCTOBER 23RD. DAY 8 Kenny, stripped to the waist, Sorensen and Bundy shave in nearby sinks. Bobby barges in. BOBBY We're getting the Soviet response. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER Specks of shaving cream still on his face, Kenny paces, reads the inky carbon as Bobby, Bundy and Sorensen read copies. KENNY This is all rhetoric. (realizing) They don't know how to respond yet. Kenny looks up. The President enters from the Oval Office. THE PRESIDENT So now you're Khurschev. What do you do? INT. CABINET ROOM - DAY Kenny, arms folded, stands behind the President, the rest of EXCOM is looking at him. KENNY -- run the blockade. They'll run the blockade. ADMIRAL GEORGE ANDERSON, 50s, dapper, the Chief of Naval Operations, nods from the far end of the table. ADMIRAL ANDERSON Which is exactly what they appear to be preparing to do, Mr. President. We're tracking 26 ships inbound to Cuba. There's no sign they're changing course. The closest ships, the Gagarin and the Kimovsk, will make the quarantine line by this time tomorrow. MCNAMARA We're concerned about the possibility of an incident with an innocent cargo carrier. If it turns ugly, the Russians could use an ugly incident and bad world opinion as leverage to force us to remove the quarantine. MCCONE Or they could use it as an excuse to escalate. BOBBY Admiral Anderson, if the ships do not stop, what exactly are our rules of engagement? Anderson signals A BRIEFING OFFICER who hits the lights and an overhead projector which SMASH CUTS TO: INT. BRIDGE - U.S.S. JOHN R. PIERCE - DAY The bridge of the U.S.S. John Pierce, a Gearing class destroyer. A RADIO OPERATOR addresses a mike in Russian. ADMIRAL ANDERSON (V.O.) Russian-speakers have been transferred to all of our ships. Once the quarantine takes effect in the morning, our ships will attempt to make radio contact with the approaching vessels. They will be ordered to reduce speed and prepare for inspection. INT. WEAPONS' LOCKER - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY MARINES in flak jackets grab M-16s off a rack, race by. EXT. U.S.S. PIERCE - AFT DECK - DAY A ship's boat full of Marines lowers away, hits the water, engine spraying as it launches forward - in dress rehearsal. ADMIRAL ANDERSON (V.O.) An inspection party will then board and search the ship. If weapons are found, the ship will be ordered to leave the quarantine area or be towed into port upon refusal. INT. CABINET ROOM - DAY All eyes are on Admiral Anderson's overhead projections. Bobby, restless, gets up, begins pacing. BOBBY What happens if the ship doesn't stop for inspection or want to be towed? ADMIRAL ANDERSON A warning shot will be fired across its bow. Bobby stops, stares directly at the Admiral. BOBBY And what happens if the ship ignores the warning shot? ADMIRAL ANDERSON Then we fire at its rudder, disable it, and carry out the inspection. Kenny looks at the President who remains unmoved, unreadable. THE PRESIDENT There will be no shooting without my explicit orders. Is that understood? ADMIRAL ANDERSON Yes, sir. The President glances at McNamara. THE PRESIDENT Well, Admiral, it looks like it's up to the Navy. ADMIRAL ANDERSON The Navy won't let you down, sir. THE PRESIDENT General, have we developed any more information on the missiles? GENERAL TAYLOR They are continuing to proceed with the development. We're commencing low-level photography runs this morning. MCCONE The pictures will be used to firm up our estimates of the missiles' readiness and develop target packages for strikes should you order them. GENERAL TAYLOR Our guy running this show is the best. Commander Bill Ecker of the Navy's VFP 62, the Fightin' Photo. Something of a character, but the highest efficiency ratings we've ever had. He pushes Ecker's personnel file across the table, and as the President opens it, on ECKER'S PHOTO, we SMASH CUT TO: INT. READY ROOM - KEY WEST NAVAL AIR STATION - DAY The man himself, COMMANDER BILL ECKER, 30s, playing cards, smoking cigars with his wingman, LIEUTENANT BRUCE WILHEMY and the PILOTS of VFP-62, the 'Fightin' Photo.' They lounge, tinker with equipment. Their ready room is filled with pin ups, movie posters, and all things photographic. ECKER 75 millimeter, I'm listening. On the big screen there's nothing like it. The other pilots heckle him, but are muted by Taylor. GENERAL TAYLOR (V.O.) To protect our pilots, we're prepared to retaliate against any SAM site or anti aircraft battery that opens fire. WILHEMY Watch out, Hollywood. There's a new epic director in town! INT. CABINET ROOM - DAY EXCOM listens in sober silence. GENERAL TAYLOR We have a flight of Thunderchiefs able to respond within minutes of an attack on our planes. Kenny catches the President's eye. Kenny glances at the door. Step outside, I need to talk to you. INT. OVAL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS The President and Kenny stand in front of the President's desk. All the doors are shut. Weak sunlight filters into the hushed room as if to a confessional. KENNY I don't like what's happening. THE PRESIDENT In the morning I'm taking charge of the blockade from the situation room. McNamara'll set up shop in the flag plot at the Pentagon, keep an eye on things there. KENNY All right. 'Cause you get armed boarders climbing into Soviet ships, shots being fired across bows... THE PRESIDENT I know, I know... KENNY What about these low-level flights? They're starting in what? An hour? Do you realize what you're letting yourself in for? THE PRESIDENT We need those flights. We have to know when those missiles become operational, because when they do, we need to destroy them. KENNY Fair enough. But Castro's on alert and we're flying attack planes over their sites, on the deck. There's no way for them to know they're carrying cameras, not bombs. They're going to be shot at, plain and simple. Kenny's right, and the President looks away in frustration. KENNY (CONT'D) I'm your political advisor, and I'm giving you political analysis here. This is a setup. The Chiefs want to go in. It's the only way they can redeem themselves for the Bay of Pigs. They have to go in, and they have to do it right. It's that simple. THE PRESIDENT I'm gonna protect those pilots. Thep President stares intently at Kenny. Kenny glances at the door, his voice hushed. He hesitates. KENNY They're boxing us in with these rules of engagement. If you agree to 'em, and one of our planes gets knocked down or one of the ships won't stop for inspection, the Chiefs will have us by the balls and will force us to start shooting. They want a war, and they're arranging things to get one. If you don't want one, we have to do something about it. The President understands. He shakes his head, paces away. THE PRESIDENT How does a man get to a place where he can say, 'throw those lives away,' so easily? KENNY Maybe it's harder for them to say it than they let on. At the very least, they believe it's in our best interest. And at the end of the day, they may end up being right. The President turns away, considers. Then turns back. THE PRESIDENT Triple check everything the Chiefs say to us with the guys who actually have to do it. No one's to know about this but Bobby. I need redundant control over what happens out there. And if things aren't as advertised, you're going to make sure they come out the way I want them to come out, starting with this low level flight thing. Jesus Christ...Kenny is daunted. For a beat he just stares. KENNY That's going to be tough. You know how these guys are about their chains of command... THE PRESIDENT Any problems, you remind them those chains of commands end at one place. Me. INT. WEST WING HALLS - DAY Kenny and the President head for the Cabinet Room. Rusk comes out before they get there. RUSK Mr. President. The OAS meeting starts in an hour. I haven't prepared at all. We can't expect -- THE PRESIDENT -- we need this one, Dean. The quarantine's legal if we get a mandate, otherwise it's an act of war in the eyes of the world. Get me that vote. Make it unanimous. RUSK Mr. President, The Organization of American States hasn't had a unanimous vote since -- The President moves for the Cabinet Room. THE PRESIDENT -- unanimous, Dean. Kenny slaps the dismayed Rusk on the back, heads off down a hall away from the Cabinet Room. INT. WHITE HOUSE SWITCHBOARD - DAY Kenny opens the door to the White House switchboard room. A half-dozen OPERATORS work their lines, making connections on the old-fashioned switchboard. Unnoticed, he sizes them up, their skill. They're all courteous, pretty, professional. The CAMERA PANS down the line... and stops on a middle-aged matron at the end - the sternest, most scary of them all. Her name is MARGARET. MARGARET White House Operator. Yes sir. (beat, harsh, booming) Speaker McCormack, hold for the Vice President. Her voice is so severe, so smoker-gravelled, it makes the blood run cold. This is the woman Kenny's looking for. KENNY Ma'am, would you mind helping me out with a few special calls? INT. READY ROOM - KEY WEST NAS - DAY Ecker, Wilhemy and their Pilots are in angry debate. ECKER Orson Welles is a hack. Now you want to talk about a director, you talk about David Lean... WILHEMY Welles is a G-d. Lean's the hack. ECKER Bullshit, Bruce, nobody but Lean is making decent movies these days. (to Young Pilot) Get that fixed yet? Nearby, a YOUNG PILOT tinkers with a $300,000 spy camera. YOUNG PILOT Uhhh... yup. Think so. Suddenly, the door opens and a pale DUTY SERGEANT enters. DUTY SERGEANT Sir...telephone, sir. INT. DUTY OFFICE - DAY Ecker enters, marches over to the phone. All the SOLDIERS in the room stare at him. Ecker wiggles his cigar to a corner of his mouth, picks up, styling. ECKER VFP-62, Fightin' Photo, here. But what we really want to do is direct. INTERCUT CALL TO: INT. WHITE HOUSE SWITCHBOARD - CONTINUOUS Margaret works her magic. MARGARET This is the White House Operator. Hold for the President. INT. DUTY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Ecker blinks, becomes a mild lamb. ECKER Oh shit. INT. WHITE HOUSE SWITCHBOARD - CONTINUOUS MARGARET Honey, you don't know what shit is. BEGIN INTERCUT INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny, sitting on his desk, taps his fingers, looks at the phone. He's kept Ecker on hold long enough - and picks up. KENNY Commander, my name is Ken O'Donnell. Special Assistant to the President. INTERCUT CALL TO: INT. DUTY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Ecker exhales. It's not the President, but Ecker is so shaken up it might as well be. ECKER Yes, sir. KENNY (O.S.) The President has instructed me to pass along an order to you. (beat) You are not to get shot down. Did he hear right? ECKER Uh... we'll do our best, sir. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS KENNY I don't think you understand me correctly. You are not to get shot down under any circumstances. Whatever happens up there, you were not shot at. Mechanical failures are fine; crashing into mountains, fine. But you and your men are not to be shot at, fired at, launched upon. INT. DUTY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Ecker sits down in a chair, sobered. ECKER Excuse me, sir, what's going on here? INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny stands, drops the hard nose bullshit. KENNY Commander, if you are fired upon, the President will be forced to attack the sites that fire on you. He doesn't want to have to do that. It's very important that he doesn't, or things could go very badly out of control. INT. DUTY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Ecker lets out a long breath. ECKER I think I understand. What about my men? If it comes up hot and heavy, and we don't have anyone to protect us... I'm going to be writing letters to parents. I hate writing letters to parents. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny nods to himself, feeling. He's done it himself. KENNY If the President protects you, Commander, he may have to do it with the Bomb. INT. DUTY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Ecker doesn't want to be avenged with atomic weapons. No sane person would. KENNY (V.O.) I've known the man for fifteen years. The problem is, he will protect you. So I'm asking: don't make him protect you. Don't get shot at. Ecker down, deeply affected. Suddenly, A BELL RINGS. A TELETYPE goes off. Ecker knows it's for him. His orders. ECKER Okay, Mr. O'Donnell. We'll do what we can. END INTERCUT. As Ecker hangs up, the Duty Officer rips off the ORDERS, hands them to Ecker, who takes one look, then gazes out the window at the runway -- EXT. RUNWAY - KEY WEST NAVAL AIR STATION - DAY A CART speeds down the flight line past the waiting F8U-1P Corsairs. One by one, the four pilots accompanying Ecker and Wilhemy jump off to mount their planes. The cart still moving. ECKER Get that fuel assayed? WILHEMY Yeah. It sucks. Ain't for high performance babies like ours. Shoulda brought some from home, but what can you do? Last-second deployments... Wilhemy jumps off, then they're at Ecker's plane, and he jumps off. Too late to worry about bad fuel now. He hoists himself up and into the cockpit of the sleek navy jet. INT. ECKER'S CRUSADER - DAY As the canopy closes, Ecker powers up the engines, talks to his flight over the Guard channel. ECKER Okay, time to play Spin the Bottle with our bearded buddy. Nobody gets out ahead. Remember, just sitting here we're only ten minutes from target. EXT. RUNWAY - DAY The Crusaders swing around in pairs at one end of the runway, and then the first two throttle-up, flaps down, and drop their brakes. The machines LUNGE forward like duelling drag racers. The FILL THE SCREEN, blow past. EXT. AERIAL - OVER KEY WEST - DAY The six Crusaders, in pairs, streak over the buildings and streets of Key West. And in a heartbeat, cross the beach and are out to sea. And already on the horizon, the low clouds and dark line of land. Cuba. Ninety miles away. INT. ECKER'S CRUSADER - DAY The ocean shrieks past so close you can see the white foam. Ecker checks the altimeter: 150 FEET. A small fishing boat looms ahead, its net booms reaching up like tree limbs. The Crusader rockets over it. Ecker checks his instruments. OUT THE WINDOW, the other Crusaders thunder over the water, past sailboats, cabin cruisers, the small-craft traffic outside Key West. The speed sucks the breath away. ECKER Go to military throttle on my mark. Three...two...one... mark. His airspeed indicator spins up to 400 knots. And then his radio suddenly crackles: PILOT #1 (O.S.) Flameout flameout! PILOT #2 (O.S.) Shit! Me too! ECKER Get some altitude! Two of the Crusaders pull up, away from the water. PILOT #1 (O.S.) Oh, God damn. Got it restarted. PILOT #2 (O.S.) Yeah. Yeah. Me too. Goddamn fuel. PILOT #1 (O.S.) Sir, I don't think she's gonna hold up for the run. ECKER Affirmative. You two get out of here. EXT. AERIAL - CRUSADERS - DAY The two planes with bad fuel pull wingovers to their left, head for the airfield in the distance. The four remaining planes streak over the ocean. There are no more small craft this far out in the strait. INT. ECKER'S CRUSADER - DAY Cuba, green and hazy, looms in the window. Ecker throws a series of switches. ECKER Start your camera checks. A mechanical WHINE accompanies the switch-throwing. Ecker pulls the trigger on his joystick and a THUMP THUMP THUMP hammers away. There are green lights across his boards. One of the other pilots cuts in on the radio: PILOT #3 (O.S.) Failure. All cameras. Sonofabitch. Film must not have fed. PILOT #4 (O.S.) Jesus! Shit! Oh shit! I just shot it all, boss. Activator jammed open, its exposing everything now. WILHEMY (O.S.) That's alright, Lenny, it happens to most men at some time -- Ecker grimaces, but his voice stays cool. ECKER -- Scrub, you two. Get out of here. Still with me, Bruce? WILHEMY (O.S.) That's affirm. The two Crusaders who've failed their camera checks break off. And now Cuba's hills, the Havana sky line are right in front of them. EXT. CUBAN BEACH - CONTINUOUS The last two Crusaders streak over the surf, a white wake of spray in their jetwash, and cross the beach with a boom. EXT. AERIAL - CRUSADERS - CONTINUOUS The planes dip and rise with the green tropical contours, taking us on a sickening roller-coaster ride over Cuban countryside at treetop level. Palm forest, roads, can fields, more palm forest race by. And then, ahead, a large clearing. ECKER (O.S.) Warm 'em up. We're here. EXT. ANTI-AIRCRAFT BATTERY - CONTINUOUS Cuban ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUNNERS shout as they traverse their 40mm guns in their sandbagged emplacement. The low rippling thunder of the incoming jets becomes an earsplitting ROAR... and the Crusaders blast out over the clearing. The anti aircraft guns open up. INT. WILHEMY'S CRUSADER - CONTINUOUS Wilhemy jinks left to avoid a streaking of TRACER FIRE. WILHEMY Holy shit! INT. ECKER'S CRUSADER - CONTINUOUS Tracers and flack pepper the air in front of Ecker's Crusader. METAL PINGS, TINKS, RATTLES off the fuselage. Anti-aircraft and small arms fire comes up from all over, hitting the planes multiple times. He surveys the shapes in the target zone dead ahead. ECKER Lights. And sees the long, canvas-covered objects on the ground. The missiles. They draw closer. ECKER (CONT'D) Camera. A steel fragment CRACKS his window, obscuring our view. ECKER (CONT'D) Action. And he thumbs the CAMERA SWITCH. All twelve B-system cameras begin banging away like cannons. EXT. AERIAL - CRUSADERS - DAY TRACERS lace the air between the two planes as they blast over the missile site. Over trailers. Over tents. Over trucks. Over trenches. Over bulldozers. And then they're out over forest again. It's all over in seconds. The triple-A stops. In unison, the two planes bank right, heading for the distant blue, blue sea. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY Kenny paces by the phone. It rings. He picks up, listens, reacts. Relief. And we know the planes have made it back. EXT. RUNWAY - CECIL FIELD, FLA. - DAY Ecker jumps down from the cockpit ladder and turns an eye to his battered, pock-marked plane. Wilhemy and the GROUND CREW CHIEF come running up, the Chief letting out a whistle. GROUND CREW CHIEF Lookit what daddy done brung home. WILHEMY You shoulda seen it, Chief, they -- ECKER -- damn sparrows. Must've been migrating. Guess I hit a couple hundred. (to Wilhemy, stern) How many did you hit, Bruce? Wilhemy stands there, looking at Ecker, not sure what to make of him. The Crew Chief just starts laughing as more impressed GROUND CREW come up. WILHEMY A few. I guess. GROUND CREW CHIEF Was them 20 or 40 million sparrows? Ecker, sweat-plastered and foul, steps into the Chief's face. ECKER Those are bird strikes. Sparrows to be precise. Got a problem with that? The Chief stands there, glances at the plane one more time, and shakes his head, 'No.' Ecker takes the Chief's maintenance clipboard from him, writes in big bold marker: BIRD STRIKES. He thrusts it back into the Chief's hands and walks off; the astonished Wilhemy remains behind. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY In Kenny's credenza, a small black and white T.V. plays. WALTER CRONKITE narrates on the television as a train laden with TANKS on flatbeds pulls out of a station. WALTER CRONKITE (V.O.) Massive military preparations are underway throughout the southeast in what Pentagon officials are confirming is the largest mobilization since Korea. The railways have been nationalized to assist in the deployment, here transporting elements of the U.S. 1st Armored Division from Ft. Hood, Texas. A PHONE RINGS. Kenny turns from the T.V., turns down Walter Cronkite, as he answers. KENNY Yeah? INT. OAS MEETING ROOM - CONTINUOUS George Ball stands at the back of a crowded room filled with applauding OAS DELEGATES. It's for Rusk, at a podium up front. BALL Kenny. The vote just came down. INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY Kenny opens his door, lets Rusk in. The President, Bobby and half of EXCOM look up. Rusk stands there somber. RUSK Unanimous. One abstenation. And then he breaks into a huge grin. Everyone cheers him. THE PRESIDENT About time something went our way. An Assistant enters behind Kenny. Kenny senses him, turns as the others move to shake hands with Rusk. ASSISTANT Telephone, Mr. O'Donnell. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY Kenny, grinning, ducks back into his office, closes the door after the Assistant leaves. He picks up the phone. KENNY Hello? INTERCUT CALL TO: INT. READY ROOM - CECIL FIELD - DAY Ecker stands at a phone, stares out a window at a replacement plane being fueled. A Crusader, not his shot-up one. ECKER Mr. O'Donnell, I've been ordered to deliver the film to the Pentagon personally. What's going on? INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny thinks fast. Oh shit. KENNY The Chiefs must want to talk to you. (beat) Listen to me, Commander, they'll want to know if you were fired on. Were you? ECKER (O.S.) You could say that, sir. KENNY Commander. Do not, under any circumstances, tell the Chiefs. END INTERCUT INT. PENTAGON - DAY SUPER: E-RING. Then SUPER: THE PENTAGON Ecker, still in his sweat-drenched flight suit approaches a security checkpoint. GUARDS secure his sidearm and user him through a doorway. A sign over it reads JCS. INT. THE TANK - DAY The door swings open into the Joint Chiefs' SOUND-PROOFED briefing room known as THE TANK. LeMay, Taylor and Anderson sit there around the table. Ecker salutes. ECKER Commander William B. Ecker reporting as ordered! LeMay rises, prowls over to Ecker. LEMAY Son , I want to know just one thing. Those bastards shoot so much as a BB gun at you? A long beat. Sweat runs off Ecker's head. He can smell LeMay's breath. ECKER Sir, it was a milk run, sir. INT. WEST WING HALL - NIGHT Kenny joins the President and General Taylor in the hallway as they head for the Oval Office. GENERAL TAYLOR It appears our low-level flights are getting back okay. Some unconfirmed reports of small-arms fire from some of the missions, but that's it. Slightly behind them, Kenny looks sidelong at Taylor. THE PRESIDENT Guess we can't blame Khruschev for a few patriotic farmers. And the ships? GENERAL TAYLOR Still heading for Cuba. THE PRESIDENT All right. Then I guess it's time. INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT FLASHBULBS go off all around the room as the President walks in, goes over to his desk. Reporters observe silently, T.V. cameras track him; Kenny, Bobby and Sorensen watch as the President sits, takes a pen form his pocket. THE PRESIDENT In accordance with this afternoon's vote at the OAS, the quarantine shall hereby be effective as of ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Kenny observes in silence as the President SIGNS the Proclamation of Interdiction. INT. OVAL OFFICE - LATER The Oval Office has emptied out. Only Kenny, Bobby, Sorensen and the President remain. The President looks out the window, Sorensen sits in a chair in front of the desk. Bobby and Kenny sit on the edge of the desk. THE PRESIDENT Last summer I read a book. The Guns of August. I wish every man on that blockade line had read that book. The President moves over to the GLOBE by his desk, spins it, stopping in on Europe. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) World War One. Thirteen million killed all because the militaries of both alliances were so highly attuned to each other's movements and dispositions, afraid of letting the other guy have a theoretical advantage. And your man in the field, his family at home, couldn't even tell you the reasons why their lives were being sacrificed. (beat) Why couldn't they stop it? Can we? The President's fingers turn the globe. It stops on North America. Kenny and Bobby listen. THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D) And here we are, fifty years later. One of their ships resists the inspection. We shoot out its rudder and board. They shoot down our planes in response. We bomb their anti-aircraft sites in response to that. They attack Berlin. We invade Cuba. They fire their missiles. We fire ours. The President sets the globe gently spinning and walks away. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - NIGHT Kenny rubs his eyes, listens to his phone and the WOMAN'S VOICE at the other end. It's his wife. HELEN (O.S.) When are you going to be home? KENNY I don't know, Helen. I want you to keep the kids close tomorrow. Leave the T.V. on, sleep with it on in the bedroom until I tell you you can turn it off. HELEN (O.S.) What's happened? KENNY Nothing. Nothing you don't know about. Tomorrow's the big day. Just have the car ready to go if I call or if the Civil Defense Warning comes on. HELEN (O.S.) What happens to you? I'm not leaving without you. KENNY I'll be evacuated with the President. A long silence on the other end of the line. HELEN (O.S.) Great. So while you're under a rock somewhere with the President, what am I supposed to do with your five children? And to that, there is no answer. A beat, and it's all Kenny can promise: KENNY I'll find you. But we're not going to let it come to that. I promise. INT. WHITE HOUSE CAFETERIA - NIGHT Kenny hands Bobby and Bundy cups of coffee. The three men nurse them in the silence of the abandoned cafeteria. KENNY Helen just asked me what sort of arrangements we have for the families. BUNDY I just checked myself. (beat) They're being issued identity cards. Call comes, and evacuation officers meet them at pre-arranged departure areas. They go by helicopter to Mount Weather. We meet them there. Bobby looks at his coffee, then up at Kenny. He gently shakes his head. It's all a sham. BOBBY Course that's for morale. The missiles only take five minutes to get here. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - NIGHT SUPER: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24TH. DAY 9. Kenny bolts upright from his couch. He rubs his face, sits on the edge in the dark for a beat. He's not going back to sleep. He grabs his trousers. INT. WEST WING HALLS - CONTINUOUS Kenny makes his way through the dim, deserted halls. Somewhere in the distance a phone rings. He reaches a door. EXT. WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT Kenny, bundled in an overcoat, steps outside the North Entrance. The cool air invigorates him. He eyes the fence, Pennsylvania Avenue beyond it, seeming to isolate this world from the living city beyond. He starts for the main gate. EXT. MAIN GATE - CONTINUOUS A WHITE HOUSE POLICE OFFICER jumps up as Kenny approaches. POLICE OFFICER Would you like me to call a car, Mr. O'Donnell. Kenny checks his watch. KENNY How long will it take to get someone up? POLICE OFFICER Fifteen minutes, maybe. To your house, sir? Kenny considers, shakes his head. He wants to go home, but... KENNY No. No, I'll let her sleep. Let 'em sleep. Kenny says it with a certain finality. The Police Officer nods, and Kenny wanders out through the gates, shouldering the weight of the world. EXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT Kenny makes his way down a sidewalk not far from the White House. A 24-hour drug store's doors are open. He pauses. Inside, a knot of PEOPLE - late-night deliverymen, a cop, the store employees - talk in undertones at the counter. Behind it, a T.V. is signing off with the national anthem. Sober voices, sober looks. Kenny moves on. EXT. NEWS STAND - NIGHT A cluster of COLLEGE STUDENTS talk at a news stand. They're waiting for the NEWSIE to cut the bands of the next day's Washington Post, the bundles just being thrown to the sidewalk from the delivery truck. Kenny approaches. In their thing beards, counter-culture clothes, the kids seem so young, Kenny so old. Kenny buys a newspaper, its dire headlines, every story about the crisis. EXT. CATHOLIC CHURCH - NIGHT Kenny, newspaper under his arm, continues down the street. Up ahead, the lights are on in a Catholic Church. Lines of CHURCHGOERS are at the door. Kenny stops, surprised at the sight this late. And then he sees the hand-painted banner: CONFESSIONS 24 HOURS. PRAY FOR PEACE. Kenny is moved. He glances over his shoulder, and then... joins the line himself. INT. WHITE HOUSE - SITUATION ROOM - DAY Kenny's WATCH reads one minute til ten o'clock. PULL BACK TO REVEAL: Kenny, standing just inside the open doors to the White House Situation Room, a state-of-the-art conference room. A long, central table surrounded by leather chairs with phones and screens built in. T.V. monitors hang from the ceilings in the corners. There are no windows, just oppressive bunker like walls. It's far underground. Across the room the President paces, phone in hand. Half of EXCOM is in their seats. The other half, along with a steady stream of DUTY OFFICERS, are coming and going. Kenny steps aside for a Duty Officer, listens to the President. THE PRESIDENT Okay, Bob, I'm putting you on intercom. Suddenly, McNamara's VOICE fills the room. MCNAMARA (O.S.) Hey, guys, can you hear me? SMASH CUT TO: INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - DAY McNamara stands, phone in hand. MCNAMARA I have one minute til ten here -- THE CAMERA TRACKS AROUND HIM, REVEALING: A large, elaborate war room, like Mission Control. Big screens, plexiglass tracking boards, tiered banks of communications equipment. A massive LIGHT TABLE on the floor at the center of the room projects a map of the Caribbean and Atlantic. Arcing across it is a RED LINE: the blockade. The map is covered with cryptic military notations; WATCH OFFICERS on a platform which swings out over it update the latest ship positions. McNamara's in a booth overlooking the room. It's open to the next tier below where Admiral Anderson is giving orders. MCNAMARA (CONT'D) -- and no sign of them stopping. INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY Kenny and Bobby move to the President's end of the table, sit down across from each other in mirror-image fashion. EXCOM looks to the President. The second hand of the clock on the wall wheels past 12. A hush falls over the room. THE PRESIDENT Bob, the quarantine is now in effect. INT. FLAG PLOT - DAY McNamara is mute for a beat. He turns to view the big room. MCNAMARA Then it looks like our first customers are the Gagarin and Kimovsk. He nods to Admiral Anderson, who calls an order down to a Watch Officer on the floor, and on screens all around the room, a sector of the map MAGNIFIES the unfolding encounter -- EXT. BRIDGE WING - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY -- between the destroyer, U.S.S. Pierce and the SOVIET FREIGHTERS Gagarin and Kimovsk. The Pierce's bridge wings are crammed with helmeted OFFICERS and LOOKOUTS. They peer through binoculars at the distant ships, plowing ahead, straight for them. The CAPTAIN lowers his binoculars, determined. CAPTAIN Helm, shape heading for intercept, zero one zero. All ahead full -- OFFICER (O.S.) -- new contact! New contact! Everyone whirls to the bridge. The Captain steps forward. INT. COMBAT INFORMATION CENTER - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY The Captain ducks into the CIC. The CHIEF SONARAN reports. CHIEF SONARMAN Submerged contact, designation Sierra one at 6000 yards bearing 030. CAPTAIN A submarine... INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY The President reacts. Kenny and Bobby react. GENERAL TAYLOR It's protecting the freighters. Consternation. The President picks up the phone. THE PRESIDENT Bob, is there any way we can avoid stopping a submarine first? MCNAMARA (O.S.) I'm afraid not, Mr. President. The sub has positioned itself between the Pierce and the Soviet ships. Admiral Anderson insists it's too much of a risk to proceed with stopping the freighters. The Pierce would be a sitting duck for the sub. All around the room frustration. Bobby shakes his head. Kenny sinks back in his chair. The President hesitates. THE PRESIDENT Put me through to the Pierce. INT. FLAG PLOT - DAY Admiral Anderson nods to a COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER. The man makes the connection on a switchboard. McNamara casts an eye to the map. The two red MARKERS labeled Gagarin and Kimovsk are joined by a third: the SUB. They are ALMOST TOUCHING the blockade line. On the other side, the single blue marker for the Pierce. INT. BRIDGE - U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY The Captain enters the bridge, takes the phone from the arm of his chair. CAPTAIN Mr. President? INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS The President holds the phone, agonized. THE PRESIDENT Captain, can you force that submarine to the surface for inspection without damaging it yourself? INT. BRIDGE, U.S.S. PIERCE - DAY CAPTAIN I can bring it up, Mr. President. But whether it's damaged or not is up to the sub. INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS The President lowers the phone, looks to Bobby and Kenny. MCCONE Even if they force it up, that sub will be inspected over the crews' dead bodies. They'd be executed for allowing it when they got home. All eyes are on the President. His eyes are closed tight, face gray, hand over his mouth. The time of decision is at hand. He lifts the phone once again. THE PRESIDENT Captain, force the sub to the surface for inspection. MCNAMARA (O.S.) Mr. President! We're receiving reports that the ships are stopping! THE PRESIDENT (to phone) Captain, belay that order! (to McNamara) Bob, where's that coming from! MCNAMARA (O.S.) Just a second, Mr. President. THE PRESIDENT Will somebody find out what's going on?! McCone jumps up, leaves the room. The President looks at Kenny, tense. Everyone holds their breath. RUSK Are they stopping? The HISS of static on the open line fills the room. Silence. EXT. BRIDGE - U.S.S. JOHN R. PIERCE - CONTINUOUS Lookouts peer across the water at the oncoming Soviet Freighter. BINOCULAR POV: Of the Soviet Bridge, where their LOOKOUTS are staring right back through their binoculars. INT. SITUATION ROOM - DAY The HISS of static. And then. MCNAMARA (O.S.) Mr. President? INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS McNamara is grinning wildly at the chaos unfolding in the flag plot below. Phones are ringing everywhere. ON THE LIGHT TABLE The Watch Officers' hands fly from one notation to the other, circling the Soviet ships, marking them DEAD IN THE WATER. MCNAMARA -- we've got reports coming from all over! The ships are stopping! Some... are turning around! INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS The room EXPLODES, victorious. Kenny and Bobby break into big grins, grab each other. Kenny pumps the President's hand. Rusk and Bundy slap each other on the back. RUSK We were eyeball to eyeball and I think the other fellow just blinked. The ruckus goes on for a minute. McCone comes back in. MCCONE Mr. President. His voice is lost in the celebration. McCone calls out: MCCONE (CONT'D) Mr. President! The hubub dies away. MCCONE (CONT'D) Sir, we have the tally from NSA. We have twenty ships stopping and or turning around. Six, however, appear to be continuing for the line. Including the Gagarin and Kimovsk. The elation goes out of the room. Kenny looks at the President. The President picks up the phone again. THE PRESIDENT Captain, have the ships you're observing changed course? CAPTAIN (O.S.) No, Mr. President. They've just crossed the quarantine line. Bobby grips the edge of the table, immediately believing. BOBBY It's an accident. They must not have gotten their orders yet. Let 'em go. GENERAL TAYLOR Unlikely, Mr. President. We've been monitoring transmissions from both the Gagarin and Kimovsk. Their radios are working fine. MCCONE One ship, an accident maybe. Six: this is intentional. The President looks to Bobby. He has no answer. Kenny's mind races over the variables, and he leans forward, intense, suddenly understanding in a flash of insight: KENNY They're right. This is intentional. He glances around the room. All of EXCOM is looking at him. Bobby stares at Kenny, too shocked to feel betrayed. KENNY (CONT'D) Khruschev's stopped the 20 ships which are carrying contraband, and he's letting the ones which aren't go through, hoping for an incident. I think we should let them go. Bobby relaxes. Around the table there are nods. MCCONE If we do, it erodes the credibility of the quarantine. He'll just send more through tomorrow. The President looks at Kenny. KENNY Then we deal with it tomorrow. But today he's stopped most of them. He's done something smart here. We gave him an ultimatum, and he's agreed to most of it, preserving just enough room to save face. We need to do something just as smart now. Bobby's nodding, following the argument. Kenny looks around the room for support. INT. FLAG PLOT - THE PENTAGON - CONTINUOUS McNamara, pacing on the phone, jumps in. MCNAMARA Mr. President, I agree. Let them go. Four of the six continuing ships are still a day away from the line. They've stopped all the ones we suspect have weapons aboard. It would look bad shooting up a freighter full of baby food. INT. SITUATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS The President holds Kenny's gaze, then lifts the phone. THE PRESIDENT Captain, I want you to maintain contact with those ships. Do nothing until I order otherwise. Is that clear? CAPTAIN (O.S.) Yes, Mr. President. Contact only. He hangs up, turns to Kenny. THE PRESIDENT I hope you're right. EXT. SOUTH LAWN - DAY Kenny, Bobby and the President make their way across the lawn, out of earshot of the building. BOBBY What happened to speak when spoken to? KENNY Give it a rest. You were thinking the same thing, just didn't have the guts to take the heat. Bobby likes getting under Kenny's skin. Bobby aims a punch at his head which Kenny knocks away. The President changes gear, serious. THE PRESIDENT We can horsetrade with Khruschev on ships. But it doesn't get us any closer to removing those missiles. KENNY Have to hope it's a signal that he'll back down on the real issue too. BOBBY We're going to have to stop a ship eventually, show the quarantine's got teeth, or we'll prove McCone right. THE PRESIDENT McNamara's on his way back here now. We need to pick the right ship. No subs. No armed boarding parties either. We need a little more time to figure this one out. KENNY Then let's move the quarantine line. It's a simple suggestion. The President considers him a beat, and then McNamara emerges from the White House, heads for them. The three friends assume their more reserved, political faces as he comes up. MCNAMARA Mr. President. Bobby. Kenny. The Essex battle group has the Gagarin, Kimovsk and the sub escort under their thumb. We've got a few hours now before we need to worry about any more flashpoints on the line. (beat) We could use a few more hours. I think we should consider moving the quarantine line back to 500 miles. Bobby and the President look at Kenny like he's some kind of Svengali. Kenny just stands there, poker faced. INT. WEST WING - DAY Kenny and McNamara enter the White House from the South Lawn. They stride down the hall, side by side. KENNY Moving the line. Stroke of genius. MCNAMARA (snappish) Of course it is. But the President needs to realize we're going to have to stop a ship eventually. They turn a corner, silence for a beat. KENNY The Chiefs are looking for a provocation out there. The President's going to come under enormous pressure. You have to keep 'em on a short leash, Bob. McNamara spares Kenny a short, nasty look. MCNAMARA You must think I'm blind and stupid. I've already gotten the birds and bees from Bobby. The President doesn't have to double-barrel me. KENNY Listen to me, goddamn it. We're talking about a possible nuclear war. You dropped the ball on Bay of Pigs -- MCNAMARA -- you sonofabitch, goddamn it, I didn't drop -- KENNY You were in the room. It was your purview. It was your job to make sure Bissel wasn't fucking us over and you didn't do it. You've got the most important job in the world right now. You're the smartest guy the President has. (beat) Besides me. That gets an amused snort from McNamara, breaking the tension. MCNAMARA Anybody ever tell you you're an egomaniac and a prick, O'Donnell? Kenny stares him in the eye, serious, hushed. A friend. KENNY You need to be the best you've ever been. McNamara enters the elevator. He turns, stands there facing Kenny for a dramatic beat. Then the doors close. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY WALTER CRONKITE, on the B&W T.V. screen, sits in front of a map showing Cuba and the blockade line. WALTER CRONKITE (V.O.) -- well, it appears the world has just received a reprieve. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara has announced that the quarantine zone has been moved from 800 to 500 miles. PULL BACK, REVEALING: Kenny watching the T.V., is yelling at the phone. KENNY Find out how close our exercises are coming to their cruise missiles. I'm calling you back in five, and you will have an answer for me or I will come down there and beat the shit out of you. (beat) Then you can press charges, and I'll get a Presidential pardon. He hangs up, hears SHOUTING from the Oval Office. He goes to the door, enters -- INT. OVAL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS -- and sees the President leaning over his desk, jabbing his finger at General Taylor. THE PRESIDENT -- how the goddamn hell did this happen? I'm going to have Power's head on a platter next to LeMay's! (noticing Kenny) Hey, Kenny, did you hear me give the order to go to DEFCON 2? I remember giving the order to go to DEFCON 3, but I must be suffering from amnesia because I've just been informed our nuclear forces are DEFCON 2! Kenny realizes he's not joking as he spots Bobby sitting on the couch behind Taylor, pale as a ghost. Taylor, embattled, wants to die, but stands there like a man. SMASH CUT TO: INT. MISSILE SILO - DAY CLOSE ON The nose cone of a TITAN MISSILE, its 20 megaton nuclear warhead wrapped in the steel re-entry shell. Cold, silent, fearsome. GENERAL TAYLOR (V.O.) Mr. President, the orders were limited to our strategic forces in the continental U.S. INT. OVAL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Taylor continues on. GENERAL TAYLOR Technically, General LeMay is correct that SAC has the statutory authority -- The President punches his desk. THE PRESIDENT -- I have the authority. I am the commander-in-chief of the United States, and I say when we go to war! GENERAL TAYLOR We are not at war, sir, not until we're at DEFCON 1. THE PRESIDENT General, the Joint Chiefs have just signalled our intent to escalate to the Soviets. You have signalled an escalation which I had no wish to signal, and which I did not approve. But Taylor knows this very well. And the way he's suffering, it's clear he's taking the heat for his underlings. From over on the couch Bobby chimes in: BOBBY LeMay... he's history. The President glances at Kenny who stands there, speechless. THE PRESIDENT Get out of here, Max. The General leaves. Kenny closes the door, wanders deeper into the office. He looks from the President to Bobby. There's a long, long beat of shocked silence. KENNY Jesus... BOBBY Rescind the order. Can all the Chiefs. Put Nitze, Gilpatric and the Undersecretaries in charge. KENNY We can't do that, Bobby. THE PRESIDENT He's right, we can't rescind DEFCON 2. The Soviets will think we've gotten sweet on them. KENNY And we can't purge the Chiefs. Our invasion talk will look like a bluff. Or even that there's been an attempted coup. Bobby is disgusted, but knows they're right. BOBBY McNamara won't be able to handle them. It's too much for one man... (knowing look to Kenny) ...with all due respect to our heroic fifth column. The President collapses in his rocking chair. Kenny leans over the back of the sofa next to Bobby. KENNY We've got Khruschev's attention with the blockade. If we want a political solution. I think it's time to turn up the diplomatic heat. Cause if we let this go on too long, we're going to find ourselves in a war. Bobby looks at the President, meaningful. The President turns to Kenny. THE PRESIDENT I've been considering a variation on one of Stevenson's ideas. We're going to send up a trial balloon through Lippman. The Jupiter missiles. EXT. WEST WING DRIVEWAY - DAY SUPER: THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25TH. DAY 10. The West Wing looms behind Kenny and Bundy. Kenny, poker faced, takes a drag on his cigarette. Bundy nervously flicks his, looks away from Kenny a beat. BUNDY What did you think of Lippman's column this morning? KENNY I think it's a bad idea. Bundy turns back to him. BUNDY Thank God. Look, everyone is furious about it. We trade away our missiles in Turkey and we're fucked politically. Kenny grinds his jaw, but doesn't say anything. He agrees. Bundy steps up to him, confiding. BUNDY (CONT'D) You gotta stop 'em. We know it's Jack and Bobby's idea - they leaked it to Lippman. The military guys are going ape, and they're not alone. KENNY Then they should speak up. BUNDY Christ, Ken, you know it's not that easy. KENNY Yes it is. BUNDY No it isn't. They don't trust the people that feel this way. But these people are right. And the Kennedys are wrong. (beat) We need you to tell 'em, Kenny. They'll listen to you. Kenny prickles, intense, but Bundy presses on, too wrapped up in his own thinking to notice. BUNDY (CONT'D) Jack and Bobby are good men. But it takes a certain character, moral toughness to stand up to -- KENNY -- You listen to me. Nobody, nobody, talks about my friends that way. You're fucking here right now because of the Kennedys. They may be wrong. They make mistakes. But they're not weak. The weak ones are these 'people' who can't speak their own minds. BUNDY You know I don't mean they're weak. Kenny gets in his face, intimidating. KENNY No, they just lack 'moral toughness.' And you think I'll play your Judas. You WASPS and blue-bloods never understood us, thinking we want into your club. Well we got our own club now. (beat) And you guys don't realize fighting with each other is our way. Nobody plays us off each other. And nobody ever gets between us... INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - DAY Kenny throws himself on a chair in the bedroom's sitting area, newspaper in hand. The President, buttoning his shirt in a full-length mirror, sees him. There's a TV on. The President selects a tie from a nearby rack, eyes the paper. THE PRESIDENT What's that? KENNY Oh, just a bunch of crap about withdrawing our Jupiter missiles in Turkey if the Soviets'll do the same in Cuba. The President's eyes flick over to him in the mirror. THE PRESIDENT I don't want to listen to this again. KENNY If we made a trade, we'd be giving in to extortion, and NATO would never trust us again. We'll get clobbered in world opinion. THE PRESIDENT It's a goddman trial balloon. Trial is the operative word, here. KENNY Then somebody'd better deny it publicly. The President turns around, heads over to the T.V. Kenny folds his arms, disgusted. THE PRESIDENT Jesus Christ, O'Donnell, you're the one saying we need to move forward on a political solution. KENNY Yeah, a good political solution. ON THE T.V. Live coverage of the United Nations Security Council meetings. Holding forth in Russian is VALERIAN ZORIN, 50s, tough, likeable, the Soviet Ambassador to the U.N. and chairman of the Security Council. A translator relays the meaning. TRANSLATOR FOR ZORIN (O.S.) We call on the world to condemn the piratical actions of America... RESUME The President's jaw tightens. He turns to Kenny. THE PRESIDENT You want to turn up the heat? You call Adlai. Tell him to stick it to Zorin. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY Kenny, phone to his ear, suffers as Bobby harangues him. BOBBY Adlai's too weak! We have to convince Jack to pull him, get McCloy in there. KENNY You can't take him out this late in the game. BOBBY Zorin will eat him alive! KENNY Then talk to your brother, goddamn it. The two of you don't need any advice to get into trouble. BOBBY What's gotten into you? Kenny throws the Lippman article at him. BOBBY (CONT'D) Oh, still sore about this. KENNY Something your father would've come up with. Silence. Terrible silence. That paralyzes Bobby. Kenny stares at him. He means it, but regrets it, too. BOBBY My father -- KENNY -- I'm just trying to make a point. This idea is that fucking bad. But Bobby gets it. Kenny shifts gears, lets it go. KENNY (CONT'D) Adlai can handle Zorin. He knows the inning and the score. BOBBY He better. Because nobody thinks he's up to this. Nobody. INT. U.S. OFFICES - U.N. - DAY The U.S. suite is in frantic preparation, STAFFERS coming and going. Stevenson takes his phone from a SECRETARY. ADLAI Yes? INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny turns to gaze at his little T.V. in the credenza, U.N. coverage continuing, as if he could see Adlai there. KENNY Adlai, it's Kenny. How're you doing? INT. U.S. OFFICES - U.N. - CONTINUOUS Adlai is packing up his briefcase. ADLAI Busy, Ken. What do you need? INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny rises from his chair, paces toward the T.V. He pauses. KENNY The President told me to pass the word to you: stick it to them. INT. U.S. OFFICES - U.N. - CONTINUOUS Adlai looks around to his own T.V., showing the session going on downstairs. Zorin, ON CAMERA, dominates the council: alternately bold, aggressive, and then reasonable. Even in Russian, with the lagging translation, he's formidable. INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS Kenny is watching exactly the same performance. Zorin is masterful. Kenny knows it. And when he talks to Adlai, it's with the fatalism of a coach knowing he's putting his third string quarterback in against the all-Pro linebacker. KENNY Adlai. The world has to know we're right. If we're going to have a chance at a political solution, we need international pressure. You got to be tough, Adlai. You need to find it, old friend. INT. U.S. OFFICES - U.N. - CONTINUOUS Adlai watches his Staffers leave his inner office. He hears Kenny, and everything Kenny is saying. ADLAI I hear you. I'm glad it's you calling. I thought it would be Bobby. If they're still sticking to their stonewall strategy, I'll get 'em. (beat) Thanks, Ken. Adlai lowers the phone to its cradle. An ANXIOUS STAFFER sticks his head in the door, a concerned, questioning look on his face. Adlai adjusts his tie. HIS HAND IS SHAKING. He notices it, and manages a brave smile. ADLAI (CONT'D) I'm an old political