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May 20, 1986
With Revision #5 (Goldenrod) January 27, 1987 April 7, 1986 With Revision #6 (Goldenrod) January 30, 1987
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"HUNTER"
FADE IN
1 EXT. OUTER SPACE 1
The infinite blackness punctuated by a billion stars. As we slowly DESCEND through the varied shades of blue of the Earth's atmosphere, we HEAR the first strains of a haunting, Central American FLUTE, joined by a swelling background of JUNGLE SOUNDS. We descend further, through a lush JUNGLE CANOPY, backlit by a setting sun.
DISSOLVE TO:
2 EXT. JUNGLE COASTLINE - DAY (MAGIC HOUR) 2
Through a collage of shimmering HEAT-WAVES, a dark, OTHER-WORLDLY OBJECT drops INTO VIEW, backlit by the fiery, ORANGE-RED sphere of a setting tropical SUN, heading slowly towards us, floating, as if suspended by the rising heat of the jungle.
Continuing to approach, the shimmering object resolves into a MILITARY ASSAULT HELICOPTER, its rotors strobing in the fading sunlight. Drawing closer, the SOUND of powerful TURBINES, throbbing in the heavy air, becomes dominant, overpowering.
Guided by COLORED SMOKE and LANDING LIGHTS, the chopper looms hard INTO VIEW, pitching forward and settling to the ground, kicking up a maelstrom of dust and vegetation
2-A INT. COMMAND POST - DAY (MAGIC HOUR) 2-A *
Where a MAN wearing a military UNIFORM watches through the large open windows the helicopter as it continues to approach. Before the skids have even touched down he SEES the first of the MEN, dressed in CIVILIAN CLOTHES but carrying full COMBAT GEAR, alight gracefully from the chopper, double-timing in close order to one side, the orders SHOUTED by one man lost in the ROAR of the chopper.
The man turns away from the window, to a FIGURE, hidden * in the shadows.
MAN * He's here.
He turns back, lowering a BAMBOO SHADE, obscuring the * window.
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2
2-B EXT. HELICOPTER PAD - NIGHT 2-B *
On adjoining PADS, two other HELICOPTERS are VISIBLE; in the b.g. can be SEEN several concrete and THATCHWORK BUILDINGS, a secret command post disguised as a COASTAL FISHING VILLAGE.
The post in a flurry of activity, AMERICAN ADVISORS shouting directions to dozens of LATIN AMERICAN SOLDIERS who stand by to assist the landing helicopter and to load EQUIPMENT into the other choppers.
Inside the chopper, one man remains, stretched out against * the bulkhead, as if asleep. He stirs, sits up, lighting * up a CIGAR. With fatigue showing in his motion, he leans * forward, descending to the ground. *
A JEEP pulls to stop, the man swinging casually into the * front seat, tossing his GEAR into the rear. With a * lurch the jeep heads out towards the command post. *
In the doorway TWO MEN solemnly watch as the jeep approaches. Reaching the command post the man alights from the jeep, heading towards the two men.
Into the pool of light cast by the fixture above the door steps MAJOR ALAN SCHAEFER, the team leader, 38, an intelligent and intense man. He informally salutes, GENERAL H.L. PHILIPS, 55, hardened, close-cropped graying hair, his nameplate and insignia identifying him as a member of an elite commando unit in the U.S. Army. He clasps Schaefer warmly on the shoulder.
PHILIPS (with affection) You're looking well, Dutch.
SCHAEFER It's been a long time, General.
They walk up the stairs, entering the palapa, leaving the other man on guard.
3 INT. PALAPA - DAY 3
Large, two room concrete floor, thatched walls and roof. Behind a partially drawn curtain in the kitchen, a naked lightbulb hung from the rafters illuminates a bank of compact FIELD RADIO EQUIPMENT, MAPS and AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. Otherwise the rooms are primitive and stand out in stark contrast to this high-tech invasion.
Philips and Schaefer enter the room.
(CONTINUED)
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3
3 CONTINUED 3
PHILIPS (growing serious) We've got a real problem here, something right up your alley.
They cross to the center of the room to a folding table, covered with a large TOPOGRAPHICAL MAP of the Central American highland jungle. Philips leans over the table, circling a set of COORDINATES and a MARK on the open map.
PHILIPS Eighteen hours ago I was informed that one of our choppers, transporting three presidential cabinet members from this charming little country, was shot down... (point to the circled area) ...The pilots radioed from the ground that they were all alive. Their position was fixed by the transponder beacon onboard the chopper. (points) Here.
Schaefer studies the map. He looks up at Philips.
SCHAEFER That's over the border, General.
PHILIPS (dead serious) That's the problem. Apparently they strayed off course. (pause) We're certain they've been captured by the guerrillas.
Schaefer looks up, puffing lightly on the cigar.
SCHAEFER (quietly) What have you got in mind, General.
(CONTINUED)
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4
3 CONTINUED: (2) 3
PHILIPS We figure we've got less than twenty-four hours to catch up with them. After that, there's not much hope. We want a rescue operation mounted tonight. That doesn't give you much time.
Another puff on the cigar.
SCHAEFER What else it new? When do we leave?
Philips looks at his watch.
PHILIPS You lift off in three hours. (pause) There's one other thing.
SCHAEFER What's that, General?
PHILIPS Someone else will be going in with you.
Schaefer stubbs out his cigar in an ashtray.
SCHAEFER You know we don't work with outsiders, General.
VOICE (o.s.) Who said anything about outsiders, Dutch?
Schaefer turns, SEEING the outline of a figure standing in the doorway of the communications room, holding a sheaf of PAPERS.
Wearing pressed fatigues, DILLON, mid-thirties, black, walks into the room.
Although as rugged looking as the others, his bearing and grooming indicate he's been away from the business of soldiering for sometime. His quick intelligent eyes reveal his current profession.
(CONTINUED)
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5
3 CONTINUED: (3) 3
DILLON Last time we danced, it was Lieutenant, Schaefer.
A grin breaks out across Schaefer's face.
SCHAEFER Dillon, you son of a bitch.
The two men step forward and simultaneous swing from the hip as it to land a punch...but their hands SLAP together in a gesture of friendship, their forearms bulging, testing each other's strength.
DILLON (warmly) How you been, Dutch?
They continue the contest, Schaefer has the edge, forcing Dillon's arm slowly downward.
SCHAEFER You've been pushing too many Pencils, Dillon. Had enough?
DILLON (grinning) No way, old buddy.
SCHAEFER You never did know when to quit.
They look into each other's faces, each remembering something from the past. A moment's hesitation and they quit the contest. They laugh, Dillon slapping Schaefer on the shoulder.
DILLON That piece of work you guys pulled off at the Berlin embassy last week was really something. Blew the entry points on three floors and neutralized the opposition in eight seconds flat. Beautiful.
SCHAEFER Like the old days, Dillon.
(CONTINUED)
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3 CONTINUED: (4) 3
DILLON Also heard that you passed on that little job in Libya.
Schaefer looks at Dillon, quietly considering him.
SCHAEFER Wasn't my style. We're a rescue unit, not assassins. (smiles) This must be good. Big shot from the CIA, leaves his desk to come back to the bush. What's so important?
DILLON Those cabinet members are very important to our scope of operations in this part of the world. They're about to get squeezed. We can't let that happen. I needed someone who could get the job done, quick and quiet...no screw-ups. I needed the best. The best. So, I pulled a few strings at the State Department...and here we are.
SCHAEFER Go on.
Dillon goes to the map.
DILLON The set-up is simple, Dutch. One day job. We pick up their trail at the chopper, run 'em down, grab the hostages and bounce back across the border before anyone knows we were there. You've done it a hundred times. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Schaefer considers this.
(CONTINUED)
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3 CONTINUED: (5) 3
SCHAEFER And nothing we can't handle alone.
Philips breaks in.
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