A movie/TV series script for
ABLE ARCHER 83
By Kenneth James Prendergast
 |
| A B-52 strategic bomber is readied for a night flight (US Strategic Command). |
START OPENING SEQUENCE
FADE
IN:
1 EXT. 100 MILES ABOVE EARTH 1
Text on
screen:
“Never,
perhaps, in the postwar decades has the situation in the world been as explosive
and, hence, more difficult and unfavorable as in the first half of the 1980s.
-- Mikhail
Gorbachev,
President
of the Soviet Union
February
1986”
An
east-looking, west-traveling camera moves from above a daytime
Asia, at morning across Europe and the Atlantic Ocean to a nighttime North
America, occasionally passing satellites AS CREDITS APPEAR THROUGHOUT. AS
CREDITS END, the camera turns west to face the direction it is traveling to see
it approaching the East Coast of the United States from high above. The Song
“Russians” is ending. The camera now descends at a threatening rate of speed as
if on an ICBM’s trajectory, zooming in on the nighttime city lights of the Washington
DC area.
BRIGHT FLASH TRANSITION:
2 EXT.
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA – NIGHT 2
PANORAMIC VIEW OF WASHINGTON DC MONUMENTS IN THE DISTANCE FROM THE
WEST, ACROSS THE POTOMAC, CAMERA TILTING DOWN at a neighborhood of comfortable
homes in McLean, Virgina. The camera settles down through the trees to street
level in front of a darkened, brick colonial house. Sounds of crickets are
pierced by the noise of a distant passenger jet aircraft, its landing and
strobing lights visible through the trees but a half-mile away, inbound to
National Airport.
TILT UP AND ZOOM IN ON DARK SECOND FLOOR WINDOW as the wind
blows through the trees.
Text on screen: “Home of National Security Advisor Zbigniew
Brzezinksi, McLean, Virginia -- June 3, 1980”
3 INT. BEDROOM OF NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI AND WIFE 3
PULL BACK FROM THE VIEW OUT THE BEDROOM WINDOW to show a couple
asleep in bed in their darkened room. Crickets and the jet plane are still
barely heard outside. The phone rings. National Security Advisor Zbigniew
Brzezinski, a man in his early 50s, reaches to the bedside table and fumbles
the black phone’s handset before bringing it to his ear.
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Hello...” (CLEARS HIS THROAT)
When it rings again, Brzezinski realizes
it’s the wrong phone and replaces the black handset, trading it for the red
handset to the red phone next to it. He brings the red handset to his ear.
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Hello...” (SPOKEN A LITTLE MORE CLEARLY)
“(HEARING
HIS DISEMBODIED VOICE OVER THE PHONE) Zbig, it’s Bill Odom. I hate to call you
at this ungodly hour but, um, we’ve got an unconfirmed report that 200 Soviet ballistic
missiles are heading our way. It is likely that they are armed with nuclear warheads...”
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“What!?!” He sits up. “Where??? What are the
targets?” His wife stirs beside him but doesn’t wake.
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“I’m on a
Pentagon conference call. Here's what we know... Alerts are going off at the National Missile Command
Center that 200 intermediate- to long-range ballistic missiles are inbound to the continental United States and (AS
IF RESPONDING TO ANOTHER PERSON), yes, they were launched about 30 seconds ago.
We don’t have specific targets yet but with that limited number of inbounds and
the probability that they were sub-launched, there is concern it may be a
decapitation strike on our command and control, principal military
installations and the like. Do you want to wake the president to bring him on
the call?”
“Wait, so you don’t have confirmation
of targets or even the missiles’ origins?”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“No sir. We didn't get a launch detection. And we don’t have a track yet to plot projected targets.”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“This sounds
like it could be another false alarm like the one in November. I’m not waking
the president for that. I’m giving you two minutes to confirm.”
ASSISTANT NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“Yes sir. I’ll call you back.”
Brzezinski hangs up
the phone and exhales hard. Outside, the peaceful sound of crickets and the
wind rustling the leaves belies the sudden, intense tension. The rising noise
of another jet plane approaches and becomes fearfully loud. Brzezinski places his hand on the shoulder of his
sleeping wife. He looks at her lovingly. The phone ringing nearly mutes the
deafening sound of the passing aircraft. Brzezinski answers the red phone as
both sounds disappear.
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Bill?”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“Yes sir.
It’s not 200 missiles. It’s 2,000... And it’s not like November when NORAD
accidentally ran that wargame test program. They’re telling me that screens at the
Pentagon and SAC are also lit up with the same data. The computer gave us the missile
count.”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“This just
doesn’t make any sense. It’s a bolt from the blue. Are there any signs of
Politburo evacuations or any unusual Soviet military deployments?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But if the point of this is to
catch us off guard, they certainly succeeded. Sir, we’re at plus-three minutes.
We’re at the point where those of us with pre-delegation authority can direct a
retaliatory strike.”
“Like hell
you will! I want you to
double-check this.”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“(SIGH) Then
I recommend we get SAC in the air and get our silos and subs warmed up while
we’re playing with our left-handed monkey wrenches.”
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Alright, Bill. You go ahead. You have my authorization. But you know damn well that I have no problem with taking those commie
bastards with us if 50 million Americans are going to die in their sleep
tonight. So check this again and call me back in two more minutes.”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“Yes sir.”
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI hangs up the phone.
EMILIE
BRZEZINSKI
“Honey. Is
everything OK?”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“I’m not
sure. I may have to wake the president.”
EMILIE BRZEZINSKI
“Why? What time is it?”
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“It’s just
after 3.”
EMILIE
BRZEZINSKI
“My God,
what’s happening?”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Go back to
sleep, Emilie. I’m sure everything is OK.” He looks to the window and listens
to the wind.
STANDARD CUT:
4 INT/EXT.
SAC BOMBER BASE, GRAND FORKS, ND – NIGHT
4
Wind sound intensifies while showing the illuminated and guarded
entrance to Strategic Air Command, 319th Bombardment
Wing, Grand Forks, ND.
DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS; EXAMPLE: Gary Numan - My name is Ruin
(karaoke)
Text on screen: “Strategic Air Command, 319th Bombardment Wing,
Grand Forks, North Dakota”
FADE to camera traveling past a thick, hinged blast door and
into a brightly lit, tube-like hallway with no windows but rooms with cots
occupied by sleeping, dressed soldiers extending to the left and the right.
The klaxon horn blows, launching 70 uniformed airmen and ground
crew from a shallow sleep on their cots into a mission-oriented frenzy.
Airmen slip on their untied boots, grab their jackets and gear
and dash through the molehole tunnels, through opened blast doors, to the alert
pad where a dozen white Ford Econoline vans are being started up. Five airmen
and several ground crewmen jump in, tires squeal and head out onto the pad with
11 other vans to their B-52 bombers and KC-135 tankers.
Cut to a distant, but zoomed-in view of multiple Ford vans with
yellow flashing lights on, speeding down the alert pad called a “Christmas
tree” toward the camera, kicking up dust. As they near the aircraft and turn
between them, the trucks’ headlights increasingly reveal silhouettes of the
massive B-52s and KC-135s.
THAT SCENE PLAYS OUT DURING THE FOLLOWING, DISEMBODIED DIALOGUE.
“G’morning Ranger Rick!”
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Let’s get this over with. I hate
when they do this to us in the middle of the night. You got our cartridges, J-J?”
“I got ’em, commanda’. What’s yo best time?”
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Twelve minutes day but fourteen night.
That’s mole hole to wheels up. And we weren’t even the senior crew then at the
front of the line.”
DCC JIMMY "J-J" JEFFERSON
“Not bad. Could be worse. Y'all could be the last
one in line and ain't be making it out in time.”
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“I’ve been the last one in line. The turbulence
from the other planes will shake your teeth out.”
DCC JIMMY "J-J" JEFFERSON
Laughing “At least Mount Saint Helens ain’t blowing
ash in our engines like last week!”
Smith’s van pulls in behind the starboard wingtip of B-52 “Czar
52.” Smith and his ground crew jump out, run to the plane and pull up the wheel
chocks. The air crew runs to the fuselage, hits the slap-switch to drop the
ladder from the hatch and all five climb into the small opening with surprising
speed. Meanwhile, grounds crew are seen packing cartridges the size of small kettles
into two of the plane’s engines simultaneously. A cruise missile is seen under
each wing.
SCENE MOVES TO CZAR 52’S COCKPIT WHERE THE START-UP SEQUENCE IS
PROCESSED QUICKLY.
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Gentlemen,
start your engines. Standby to copy orders.”
PILOT JACK
SCHWINN
“Begin
engine start sequence.” He switches two of the eight engines to ‘cartridge start.’
“Standby for orders.”
COMMANDER
RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Fire cart-start
four and five.”
PILOT JACK
SCHWINN
“Firing shotguns
for four and five.” He flips the switches to fire the cartridges. The engines
pop and whine up to rotational speed.
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Confirm the wing ducts are catching engines
one through three and six through eight.”
PILOT
JACK SCHWINN
“Confirmed. Visuals and vibrations!”
Outside, smoke is pouring from the B-52’s
engines, seen through the base’s lights, while grounds crew use their light
wands to direct the plane forward.
COMMANDER
RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Oscar-Zero,
Czar 52 is rolling. Where are my orders?”
COMMAND
POST TOWER CONTROLLER
“Czar 52...”
A deep breath is heard. “Be advised that all Alfa, Charlie and Foxtrot aircraft
are directed to MITO – repeat, Minimum Interval Take Off. Use your cruise
missiles’ afterburners and get your BUFFs clear of the base immediately. You’ll
get your EWO in the air. God be with you. God be with us all.”
PILOT JACK
SCHWINN
“Holy shit!”
(HIS EYES GROW WIDE WHILE HE LOOKS SKYWARD) We’re probably going straight to a Red Dot 4!”
COMMANDER RICHARD “RANGER RICK” HUTCHINSON
“Alright people, let’s stay focused. They
called us which means inbounds are probably enroute to military targets. Our
job is to make sure it doesn’t go any further than that. So do the jobs you’ve
been trained to do!”
PILOT JACK SCHWINN
HE SHAKES
HIS HEAD AS IF TO WAKE UP, THEN PUSHES HARD FORWARD ON THE THRUST LEVERS TO A
DEAFENING ROAR.
“Let’s go!”
Czar 52 is
seen accelerating down the runway with fire pouring from its two cruise missiles
and black smoke curling behind, as the next B-52 pulls in behind and throttles
up 15 seconds after the first. The leader lifts off, with the second emerging
from its smoke to lift off and another coming in behind.
STANDARD
CUT:
5 EXT/INT. MINUTEMAN ICBM LCF HOLDEN, MO -
NIGHT 5
Dramatic music continues but more subdued. Exterior view of a
single-level ranch-style building with a shallow-gabled roof plus a microwave
radio communications tower and helicopter pad next to it.
The camera flies into the building, quickly showing its bedrooms
with three of them occupied by people sleeping. The camera passes the kitchen,
recreation room with pool table and security room with a guard reading a Sports
Illustrated magazine before the camera dives 60 feet down the 12x12-foot
elevator shaft to the entrance to the Launch Control Center (LCC) for 10
Minuteman II inter-continental ballistic missile silos in the surrounding
countryside. The entrance is protected by an 8-ton steel-and-concrete blast
door with a mural painted on it looking like a Domino’s pizza box that reads
“Worldwide delivery in 30 minutes or less – Or your next one is free.”
Inside a reinforced capsule suspended from overhead shock
absorbers, two US Air Force missile officers are seated in large, red padded
seats at consoles when an alarm sounds. It is followed by a scratchy, faint,
digitized voice over a speaker:
SPEAKER
VOICE
“Skyking.
Skyking. Do not answer. Message Follows. Foxtrot. Standby. India. Standby.
Mike. Standby. November. Standby. Oscar. Standby.”
“Skyking? Oh for God’s sakes...” He looks at
McCAFFERTY and they both have big eyes but are trying to keep their mouths
closed. “But if this is the start of a launch drill, why’s it so quiet? Is this
coming through on radio or satellite?”
CAPTAIN BOBBY McCAFFERTY
“With that echo? Probably both, perhaps for
redundancy in case a repeater somewhere is taken out. If it’s satellite, it may
be more than just busy traffic to keep the Ruskies guessing. But I don’t
remember this automated voice...” His voice trailing off.
LIEUTENANT
DAVID RASKIN
“Well,
they’re getting all our LCCs in the five-ten ready. What’s next, an E-A-M?”
SPEAKER
VOICE
“...Standby
for Emergency Action Message from the National Command Authority....”
CAPTAIN
BOBBY McCAFFERTY
“Remove
missile keys and code books!” He waits for a few agonizing seconds. “They’re
not going straight into a drill instruction! Standby...” He waits a few seconds
more. “Wake up everyone topside and get them into the backup capsule.” The lieutenant
picks up the phone. “And tell them to bring down more Oh-two tanks, MREs and
water.”
STANDARD CUT:
6 EXT.
ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE, MARYLAND - NIGHT 6
A klaxon horn is blaring outside the hangar for the National Emergency Airborne Command Post (NEACP), an E-4B which is a converted Boeing 747-200.
It is surrounded by a team of five heavily armed soldiers as several ground
crewmen quickly load a pallet of supplies into baggage.
Text “National Emergency Airborne Command Post (NEACP) hangar,
Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland” is briefly displayed.
“Pick it up guys! Knee-cap has to be rolling in
two minutes. Is everyone on board?”
ACC JOSH
CARLSON
“They
always are.”
DCC MARTIN
KOWALSKI
Impatiently,
“Airman, I’m asking if anyone’s left behind.”
ACC JOSH
CARLSON
“The count
is 48. All are on board, sir.”
DCC MARTIN
KOWALSKI
“Close that
hatch, airman!” He speaks into his radio. “DCC Kowalksi to Nightwatch. You’re
signed, sealed and delivered.”
NIGHTWATCH
PILOT
On radio
“Roger crew chief. Andrews Tower, clear us a path. Nightwatch is taxiing. This
is not a drill!”
Exterior
view of NEACP as its jet engines thrust the plane forward with a loud roar.
STANDARD CUT:
7 INT.
BEDROOM OF NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI AND WIFE 7
In his
pajamas, Brzezinski is looking at two of his sleeping children in their bedroom
from its doorway. The red-digit LED clock on their bedside table reads “3:28.”
The red phone rings again. He dashes across the hall into the master bedroom as
his wife stirs once more.
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Bill?”
“Yes sir. You better sit down for
this...”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“What, for
God’s sakes?”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“It was an
integrated circuit. A God-damned 46-cent computer chip! NORAD ran diagnostics
and found it was sending typographical errors in otherwise routine messages to
SAC and the NMCC. So instead of displaying zero-zero-zero inbound missile
status, it was adding a two in different places...”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Jesus! So
no nuclear attack?”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“No sir.”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Then can
you do us all a favor and stand down SAC?”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“We’re recalling the alert aircraft now, sir. We were about to give them a Red Dot 4 -- with the president’s authorization -- and send them straight to their targets without checking in at Failsafe.”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Ah Christ.
The bombers went airborne? That means the Soviets probably saw this.”
ASSISTANT NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“They saw the false alarm in November. So they
probably saw this one, too.”
NSA ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Better hope this didn’t trigger a chain
reaction. Keep an eye on the threat boards, Bill. But if nothing else shows up
tonight, I’d like to TRY to get some more sleep...”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“What did
the president say?”
“I’ll tell
him in the morning.”
ASSISTANT
NSA WILLIAM ODOM
“You didn’t
call him? He’s gonna eat your peanuts for breakfast, Zbig....”
NSA
ZBIGNIEW BRZEZINSKI
“Good
night, Bill.” He hangs up the phone, lays back into the bed with his eyes wide
open and exhales hard.
END OPENING SEQUENCE
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