"THE INSIDER" Written by Eric Roth & Michael Mann 11/5/99 FADE IN: All we can see is black filling the screen... Black on black... INT. A JEEP, LEBANON - DAY And we're in a speeding SOVIET JEEP... Two men in front, shouldering assault rifles. HEZBOLLAH SOLDIERS... And there are three MEN in the back. A middle-aged Man wearing a tired suit and tinted sunglasses trying to hold on. And on either side of him, two Men, blindfolded. The man on one side is in his forties, hands pressed in the pockets of a well-travelled black-leather jacket... A stocky man, with the edge of a J.D. Salinger character, he's seen everything at least once. But even he has lost some of his self-confidence, here, turning his head, sensing the wind, a blast of Arabic music that disappears behind him... He's LOWELL BERGMAN. On the other side of the man in the tired suit is a lanky Man with a voltmeter around his neck, NORMAN. EXT. THE BEQA'A VALLEY, BAALBEK, LEBANON - DAY The Jeep races up narrow winding streets of a Lebanese village. It's shadowed by a Jeep in front, and in back, each carrying personnel armed with AK's and a few RPG's... And in the third Jeep are two blindfolded, not very threatening Lebanese soldiers. And as the speeding convoy passes a captured Israeli Armored Personnel Carrier covered with Arabic graffiti, looking down on them from huge murals are the stern visages of the Ayatollah Khomeini, and a Hezbollah religious leader, the Sheikh Fadlallah... And, suddenly the convoy skids to a stop... And blindfolded Lowell and Norman are roughly taken out, and pushed, stumbling, through the cloud of dust without sight... The lanky cameraman is stopped, told to wait, while Lowell is pushed past armed men guarding a small stone house, and inside... INT. A HOUSE IN LEBANON - DAY A round-faced Man in his mid-forties, with large-framed glasses, black hair and a grey-black beard, wearing a dullbend, a turban, sits informally at a kitchen table... It's the Sheikh Fadlallah whose face stares out at us from walls. A Gunman cradling an AK-47 sits in an incongruous purple armchair in a corner. A torn poster of the Seychelles is on one wall. Another Gunman stands by a window. Lowell is sat down in a chair at the kitchen table... THE SHEIKH Coffee? LOWELL Yeah... Thank you. THE SHEIKH How have you liked your stay? LOWELL (droll) What I've seen... I've liked. The Sheikh smiles. And the smile passes as quickly as it came. A steaming cup of coffee in a small Arabic demitasse is put down. THE SHEIKH Please to explain, why I should agree to interview... with pro-Zionist American media? LOWELL Because I think Hezbollah is trying to broaden into a political party right now. So you care about what you're thought of in America. And in America, at this moment in time, Hezbollah does not have a face. (confident) That's why. And we've first realized this man is not a hostage; he's come here voluntarily. THE SHEIKH Perhaps you prove journalism objectivity and I see the questions first. Then I decide if I grant the interview. LOWELL (blunt) No. We don't do that. (beat) You've seen "60 Minutes" and Mike Wallace. So you know our reputation for integrity and objectivity. You also know we are the highest-rated, most-respected, TV-magazine news show in America. The Sheikh quietly looks out his glasses at him, studying him. And Lowell "closes": LOWELL So. Mr. Wallace. Should he get on a plane or not? The Sheikh thinks it over and then... THE SHEIKH Tell him I will see him day after tomorrow. LOWELL That's good. That works. (after a beat) Uh, you know, I want to ask you something... I know it sounds odd... but... It's quiet... too quiet... LOWELL Hello, Sheikh...? (no answer) Hello, Sheikh...? Silence. He hesitates, starts to lift his blindfold... He lifts it. And he sees the Sheikh, and his gunmen, are gone. The house empty. Only his Cameraman, the lanky man, left there, standing by the door still in his blindfold... LOWELL Norman. NORMAN What? What? LOWELL Take your blindfold off. The lanky man does and we see the cameraman is Asian-American. LOWELL (sarcastic) Welcome to the world. Norman gives Lowell an ironic look and tests the local current at an electrical outlet. NORMAN Fluctuating all over the place. Anywhere we shoot, here, it's gonna be portable gennies and we'll run cable... Lowell nods and opens the curtains from this commanding height. Baalbek and the Beqa'a Valley below gold-domed mosques. A moment of triumph. He dials his cell phone... MIKE WALLACE'S VOICE (over) Hello? LOWELL (into phone) Mike, it's me. We're on... And we hear people laughing and encouraging "go ahead... open it..." INT. A LABORATORY, BROWN & WILLIAMSON, LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY - DAY We're in a SCIENCE LABORATORY... OUT OF FOCUS LAB TECHNICIANS, in white lab coats, celebrating a heavyset Black woman's birthday... Half her presents are opened. Balloons, incongruous, floating above the lab... And there's a sense that somebody is watching... And from the waist up, a disembodied figure comes into FOCUS behind a glass partition, as if quarantined, isolated, an expressionless MAN in his late forties, watching them... INT. JEFFREY WIGAND'S OFFICE - DAY The office soundproofed, he watches the people laughing, their lips moving. His hair not yet settled on grey, his face is changing, always interesting. Born in the Bronx, educated in Upstate New York, he retains little of the accent and much of the directness. He's JEFFREY WIGAND. He turns to resume gathering things from his desk... some technical books, a medical text on asthma... putting them in his briefcase. And as he leaves the office, the silent party like a bizarre mime behind him... INT. LOBBY, BROWN & WILLIAMSON BUILDING - DAY Briefcase in hand, Jeffrey appears from the elevator from ABOVE, from WIDE and in FRONT, his eyes, frozen pools... And like a bad dream, a broad-shouldered Man, leaning against the wall near the reception island in a suit he's not comfortable in, wearing an earphone, saying something into a lapel microphone after Jeffrey's passed. INT. WIGAND'S CAR, LOUSIVILLE - DAY Light mottled through trees reflects off the car window... Jeffrey's face goes in and out of the tunnel of light and shadow... down this tasteful, suburban Louisville street of neat houses and manicured lawns... He pulls into driveway behind a 3 series BMW. It's a grey French provincial replica... INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, FOYER - DAY Jeffrey comes in and a young Girl, six, is watching television in the den... BARBARA. WIGAND Hi, honey. BARBARA Hi, Daddy. WIGAND What's new? BARBARA Ms. Laufer gave me a star today. WIGAND Yeah? What for? BARBARA For reading. He pours himself a drink at a wet bar. WIGAND That's great... Little early for cartoons, isn't it? BARBARA Okay. Dutiful, she shuts off the TV, going upstairs. BARBARA Deborah? Debbie? He looks outside. A Woman is sitting on the back porch drinking wine, reading a paperback book, drinking wine. There's something like a Hockney painting about her against the manicured lawns. Right now the Woman comes in. She's pretty, tall, languid, reserved, somebody it would be nice to wear on your arm. LIANE WIGAND. She has an odd delay between a thought and her speech... LIANE Oh, I didn't know you were home... It's early... Isn't it? He doesn't say anything... LIANE Gotta take Debbie to ballet... And it all feels suburban, familiar. Suddenly there's a shout... BARBARA'S VOICE (over) Mommy! Jeffrey goes quickly up the stairs into... INT. WIGAND'S HOUSE - DEBORAH'S BEDROOM - DAY And a little girl, eight, sitting on the floor in a ballet leotard, her head back, wheezing, her neck muscles contracting and bulging, her face pale, lips white, and her eyes filled with fear as rapid, shallow breathing induces a sense of suffocation. DEBORAH WIGAND is having a severe asthmatic attack... WIGAND Sweetheart, c'mon. C'mon. BARBARA She was playing with my Pooh doll again... Jeffrey sits her on the side of her bed next to which is a Nebulizer, an air compressor to deliver medication via a tube into a circular mouthpiece. The compressor whirs. Deborah breathes in the medication. Jeffrey brushes the hair back from her face and wipes perspiration from her forehead as... WIGAND Slow down. Slow down. Slow down. Breathe deep. Breathe deep. Slow down, honey. Slow down. Slow down. Liane rushes in with rolled-up towels, kneels in front of Deborah, smiling to mask anxiety, and goes into the bathroom with the towels and turns on full blast the bathtub's hot water. We don't know why yet... Deborah's chest heaves. She's scared. Jeffrey gets in front of her and talks to her to arrest her attention. WIGAND Here we go. Deep breaths, deep breaths. BARBARA She was playing with the Pooh doll. WIGAND Pooh's dusty, sweetheart... he's dusty, and you breathed him in, okay? So what's -- what's happening to you now is... cells called mast cells told your lungs "don't breathe any more of that dust in." (beat) ...and the airways in your lungs are like branches. And when the branches close up, you get an asthmatic attack. And, we give you medicine, and you get better. Huh? Okay? You're better already, aren't you? And the medication's taking effect and she's calmer. Liane, hands clutched in her lap, smiles at Deborah. Now she takes Deborah's hand and exchanges a look with Jeffrey. Jeffrey's a good father, a natural caregiver. WIGAND Okay, baby? INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - EVENING Jeffrey, Liane and the two Girls silently eating dinner, Deborah in a bathrobe. DEBORAH Can I go to dance tomorrow? I'm better... LIANE ...if you are, then I'll take Barbara to soccer and take you to dance after... WIGAND I can take her. LIANE Don't you have to be at the office? WIGAND (instead, getting up) Is there any more rice...? LIANE (nods) Yes, it's on the stove... He goes into the kitchen, to the stove, seeing... LIANE Do you want more rice? DEBORAH Maybe later. LIANE How about you? BARBARA I'll take some. WIGAND Instant rice...? BARBARA Can I go over to Janeane's house? LIANE I'm sorry, darling, have you seen my coffee mug...? WIGAND Try the car. And Liane going outside... EXT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE - EVENING She opens Jeffrey's car looking in the front seat at the cup holders. She turns to leave and sees the backseat filled with two boxes and the books we saw him take... LIANE Uh, what are those boxes? WIGAND I'm going to the store. You need anything? LIANE What do you need at the store? WIGAND Soy sauce... LIANE Right now? WIGAND (meaning in the car) That's my stuff from the office... LIANE Why did you take your stuff from the office? WIGAND (simply) I didn't want to leave it there... LIANE (confused) I don't understand. WIGAND (matter of fact) I got fired this morning... Where else am I gonna take it? LIANE Why? Who said? WIGAND (specifically) Thomas Sandefur... LIANE (stunned, fearful) What are we supposed to do...? What about our medical coverage; what about our health? What about our car payments? The payments on this house? He looks at her. There's an unspoken moment when it seems he's desperate for her to ask how he's feeling... But she doesn't and now there's a wall up and the moment passes... WIGAND (a beat, specific) There's a severance agreement... It includes cash payouts over time and continuing medical coverage... (beat) Sure you don't need anything? LIANE No, thank you. She's stunned. He leaves. And as Liane's completely still, her accessories seeming literally to weigh her down, she wants to ask how he is, how he must be feeling, and she turns into CAMERA towards him to do that. But he's driven off down the street. LIANE Jeffrey...! INT. ANOTHER HOUSE IN BAALBEK - DAY The Sheikh, wearing a fresh white robe and skull cap, comes into the room... THE SHEIKH I am very pleased to receive you as my guest, Mr. Wallace. MIKE WALLACE Thank you for having us... REVERSE: Norman's camera crew is setting up. MIKE WALLACE is there. A dangerous combination of intelligence, arrogance, and celebrity, there's a kinetic quality about him. Wallace sits across from the Sheikh on a dais of patterned linoleum in incongruous armchairs against a wallpaper mural of a French formal garden. A Sound Technician wires the Sheikh and Mike with microphones. Norman says something to Lowell and then goes out. NORMAN I think I've got a problem with the gennie. I have to go outside. LOWELL (going outside) Norman...? Mike turns his chair to face and slides it closer to the Sheikh's chair. The Head Bodyguard barks something in Arabic. The Interpreter says something back in Arabic. The Sheikh, absorbed in his notes for the upcoming interview, ignores all of this. INTERPRETER He says you must not sit so close. MIKE WALLACE What? (re: Bodyguard) I can't conduct an interview from back there. The Bodyguard, bristling at Wallace's tone, barks more confrontational Arabic. INTERPRETER You must move back your chair. MIKE WALLACE Will you tell him that when I conduct an interview, I sit anywhere I damn please! INTERPRETER There is no interview. As Mike leaps forward, moving inches from the Bodyguard's face with such sudden ferocity, even the Bodyguard flinches. MIKE WALLACE You! I'm talking to you! More armed men start to enter. MIKE WALLACE What the hell do you think I am? A 78-year-old assassin? You think I'm gonna karate him to death with this notepad? (to Interpreter) Are you interpreting what I'm saying? INTERPRETER Yes. LOWELL We're there. MIKE WALLACE Good, well ask him if Arabic is his second language. LOWELL (to Interpreter) Don't interpret that! (to both) Hold it. Hold it. Hold it! Slow, slow!! (to the Sheikh) Sheikh, do you mind... if you would just turn your chair a little bit to face Mr. Wallace? The Sheikh looks up from his notes, nods, fixes his chair, goes back to his notes... LOWELL Is that okay? INTERPRETER Okay. LOWELL (Bodyguard assents; to Mike) Are you ready? Or you want to keep fucking around and warm up some more...? MIKE WALLACE No. (wry) ...that's got my heart started. They know each other well. Lowell smiles. Wallace sits down. LOWELL Alright, Todd, give me the three- button on Mike, please. Okay. We are rolling. Okay, Mike. They roll camera... "60 Minutes"... "Hezbollah"... MIKE WALLACE (charming) Sheikh Fadlallah, thank you so much for seeing us. (changes) Are you a terrorist? The Sheikh didn't expect the Mike Wallace opening shot between the eyes. He recovers... THE SHEIKH Mr. Wallace, I... am a servant of God. That expression of incredulity... MIKE WALLACE A servant of God? Really... Mike, tipping his glasses down while the hostile Gunmen, cradling weapons, watch him through the doorway... MIKE WALLACE Americans believe that you, as an Islamic fundamentalist, that you are a leader who contributed to the bombing of the U.S. Embassy. The ballsiness of Wallace, asking these questions in this place, is impressive... EXT. BERKELEY - LATE MORNING It's still. A MAIL TRUCK is stopped at an odd angle in the street outside an older brick house with a bold redwood Big Sur-like fence on a hillside. Beyond the truck is a forever view of the Bay. A handle turns. Mail truck door opens. Mailman, carrying a box, going through the gate. Doorstep. Box is deposited there. It's quiet again. The BOX sitting nakedly by the front door... INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, BEDROOM, BERKELEY - LATE MORNING Lowell, in sweat pants and an old tee shirt now, is on the telephone, still in bed... Newspapers, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, San Francisco Chronicle, are spread all over... home as refuge. A tray with large cups of coffee is on a side table. LOWELL ...everyone thinks Canadian Mounties ride horses and rescue ladies from rapids, Mike. They backed locals in Oka in a fight with Mohawks over building a golf course on their burial site. They beat up protesters at Kanasake... (pause) Where'd you hear that? The other phone on a nightstand rings... A Woman in her forties, SHARON TILLER, enters, in a bathrobe, brushing her teeth. She answers it... LOWELL (droll) Oh, someone took a poll? "Are all things Canadian boring...?" SHARON (to Lowell) It's Stuart... he's in Mexico City... LOWELL Let me call you back... He takes up the line... listening... LOWELL Yeah, Stuart... What New York bank? A young Man in his early twenties wanders in... JAKE Hey Dad... Sharon... Lowell waves at JAKE, his son. SHARON (to Jake) No classes this morning? LOWELL Will he go on-camera and talk about the Mexico City branch? JAKE I don't have to be there until ten- thirty. Lowell's son sits on the bed looking at part of a newspaper. And another young Man, in his early twenties, with long hair comes strolling in, Sharon's son, JOSIAH. JOSIAH Hi Mom, Lowell... Lowell, still on the phone, waves to him. SHARON Hi, sweetheart... Josiah sits on the bed too, reading the back of the sports section Jake is reading... Another line rings, Sharon getting it. The Boys, used to them, get up, and leave... LOWELL (into phone) Will independent sources corroborate that? SHARON Hello? Yeah... EXT. THE BERKELEY HOUSE - MORNING The Boys coming out of the house together... And seeing the BOX by the door... LOWELL'S SON (shouts back inside) Dad, you got a box out here... And they go out the gate, talking, walking off along the Berkeley street. The box left waiting by the door. LOWELL (looking at her itinerary) Let me see this... No, 'cause I gotta know where you're going at all times. INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, BEDROOM, BERKELEY - MORNING SHARON (into phone) I can't... I've got to fly to Boston tomorrow. Lowell comes with the box back to bed. He's already unwrapped it. Inside are stacks of papers... He looks at the box cover. No return address. An anonymous sender; not unusual for him. He casually looks through the papers. SHARON Two p.m. Great. Bye-bye. (hangs up) LOWELL (reading) ..."ignition propensity?" (to Sharon) ...you understand any of this...? He gives her some papers. We see formulas... scientific data in tables... SHARON ...no... this looks like a table of temperatures... Who's this from? LOWELL (shrugs) ...it's anonymous. References to "P.M." (motions) It's got to be Philip Morris, huh? SHARON I have to take a shower. As he looks at the papers, Sharon goes into the bathroom... INT. THE FEDERAL DRUG ADMINISTRATION AGENCY, CAFETERIA, WASHINGTON - DAY We see a MAN in his forties, eating a late lunch, getting paged in a crowded cafeteria. An old 1930's WPA mural on the wall... His pager goes off... Doug Oliver walks across the cafeteria to a bank of pay phones and dials. INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, DEN - BERKELEY - MORNING The phone rings. Lowell picks it up... LOWELL Yeah. DOUG OLIVER (into phone) Hi, this is Doug Oliver... LOWELL Oh, hi, Doug... it's Lowell. I'm doing this story on fire safety... People burning up from falling asleep smoking. I received a shitload of scientific papers from inside Philip Morris... Anonymous. You or anybody in FDA know someone who can translate this stuff into English for me? DOUG OLIVER (beat) ...uh, yeah... EXT. A BERKELEY CAFE - CLOSE: PAY PHONE There's the sound of a phone ringing. PULL BACK to reveal Lowell outside a cafe with dry cleaning he collected over one shoulder. A LITTLE GIRL'S VOICE OVER (Deborah's) answers. "Hello." LOWELL Mr. Wigand, please. There's a whisper... "Someone's calling for Daddy, Mom." Behind Lowell is a humming Berkeley street. He gestures familiarly to a Server, who brings out his two take-out cappuccinos. Lowell nods his thanks, pays... LOWELL Thank you, Bob. LIANE'S VOICE (OVER) Who's calling? LOWELL My name's Lowell Bergman... I'm -- LIANE'S VOICE Did you say Berman? LOWELL No, Bergman... B.E.R.G.M.A.N.... I'm a producer with "60 Minutes"... LIANE'S VOICE "60 Minutes"? LOWELL Yeah. LIANE'S VOICE "60 Minutes," the television show? LOWELL Yes. Lowell waits for some moments, and... INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - DAY LIANE (on phone) He doesn't want to talk to you. EXT./INT. BERKELEY CAFE - DAY LOWELL How does he know he doesn't want to talk to me? He doesn't know what I'm calling him about... LIANE'S VOICE He doesn't care to know. And she hangs up. Lowell's motionless... And his interest piqued, he sets down his cleaning. He calls back... The phone rings and rings... A MACHINE picks it up... Jeffrey Wigand's Voice: "This is the Wigands'... If you'd like to leave a message or send a fax, start now..." INT. THE WIGAND HOUSE, JEFFREY'S OFFICE, LOUISVILLE - DAY And we see Jeffrey Wigand, sitting at his desk in his office, working on his computer, hearing Lowell... LOWELL'S VOICE (OVER) (on the machine) This is Lowell Bergman with "60 Minutes"... I'm doing a story on fire safety and cigarettes... I have scientific documents from a tobacco company, and I could use your help as a consultant explaining these documents to me... My number is area code 510-555-0199... I'll be there, at this number, in 10 minutes. He hangs up. Jeffrey doesn't react, quietly working on his computer. INT. LOWELL'S OFFICE, BERKELEY - DAY Lowell's restless, waiting... And not getting a call back, he tries another tact. He writes a FAX, "Please call me at..." He writes his number down. He sends the Fax. He's still. It's quiet. And not getting an answer he gets up, starting to leave the room. And suddenly the fax machine RINGS... He turns. He reads a message emerging from the machine... "I can't talk to you..." He's quiet. He writes on a piece of paper... "Can't talk to me?" "Won't talk to me?" "Don't want to talk to me...?" As he faxes it back... INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, OFFICE, LOUISVILLE - DAY Wigand reading the return fax from Lowell... INT. LOWELL'S OFFICE, BERKELEY - DAY Lowell, waiting... The fax machine rings again... He reads Jeffrey's answer. "Can't." "Won't." "Don't want to..." He's quiet, more than just interested, now. There's something beyond intriguing here. He turns. He looks through a stack of phone books for something... a nationwide 800 directory. He looks through it and dials Wigand's phone number again... LOWELL If you're curious to meet me... INT. WIGANDS' HOUSE, OFFICE, LOUISVILLE - DAY Wigand working on his computer... Lowell's VOICE on his answering machine... LOWELL'S VOICE (on machine) ...I'm gonna be in the lobby of the Seelbach Hotel in Louisville, reading The New York Times, tomorrow, at five o'clock... Lowell clicks off. And as Wigand sits at his computer, giving no indication what he might do... INT. THE SEELBACH HOTEL LOBBY, LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY - EARLY EVENING An old hotel with faded carpets. Lowell in the lobby reading a New York Times, waiting... And instead of looking up every time somebody passes, he looks down at people's shoes. A pair of black wing tips walking by... A woman's high heels... A pair of men's tasseled loafers. A lace-up brown. A pair of tennis shoes. A cordovan wing tip. The pair of tasseled loafers walking by again... And Lowell looks up... And the Man in the tasseled loafers, turns away... It's Jeffrey Wigand in a suit and a tie with a Fortune 500, corporate-executive bearing... Lowell crosses to the elevators. Wigand looks around the lobby and follows Lowell in, and as the doors close... INT. A HOTEL ROOM, LOUISVILLE - EARLY EVENING LOWELL (over) Have you always lived in Louisville? Brilliant late afternoon sunlight. We PULL BACK to see Jeffrey, standing by a window, silently looking outside to the left... Lowell, cool, waiting, hands in his pockets, in the middle of the large room... WIGAND Mr. Bergman? What did you want me to consult about? A sudden KNOCK on the door... WIGAND (turns, suspicious) Who's that? LOWELL (wry) That's room service. They usually knock first. (calls) Come on in... Over here, please. Room Service brings in a tray with coffee. As Lowell signs the bill, the Room Service Waiter waiting, looks at Wigand... Their eyes meet... The Waiter looks away. LOWELL Thank you. And the Waiter leaves... LOWELL (pouring) How do you like your coffee? Black? WIGAND Black, black... Lowell gives him his cup of coffee. WIGAND Look, I really don't have that much time... LOWELL (nods) Is there anything you want to know about me, Mr. Wigand...? WIGAND Like what? Your sign? Lowell smiles. WIGAND I know what I have to know. LOWELL Just so I know you know, when I talk to people in confidence, it stays that way. WIGAND (abruptly) How did a radical journalist from Ramparts Magazine end up at CBS? Lowell looks at him, he does his homework... LOWELL I still do the tough stories. "60 Minutes" reaches a lot of people. Wigand's quiet, measuring him. WIGAND (after a beat) Let me see the documents... Lowell gives him the box of papers... Wigand sits down, the box on his lap, quietly looking through them... flips to a different heading, consults a chart... WIGAND ...this is a Fire-Safety Product Study for Philip Morris. Burn rates... ignition propensity... things of this nature. (after a beat) I could very easily explain this to you in layman's terms, because it's from another company... He puts the papers down... WIGAND ...but that's as far as I go... LOWELL Far as you go where? WIGAND (a beat) This issue is a drop in the bucket. I can talk to you about what's in here. But I can't talk to you about anything else. And Lowell knows something else is going on here... WIGAND (meaning Philip Morris documents) I signed a confidentiality agreement. I honor agreements... A lot more is going on here... Lowell nods, a good reporter... WIGAND Doesn't CBS have confidentiality agreements, Mr. Bergman? LOWELL Between journalists and management, yes, I believe they do... but I don't take that seriously. (after a beat) Where do you work? WIGAND Did work. LOWELL (fast) Did work. WIGAND (the bottom line) How much would I get paid? LOWELL That, you have to discuss with CBS Business Affairs. But, for something like this, I would say anywhere between 10, 12 thousand. Wigand nods "Okay." WIGAND Should I just take the documents now? LOWELL If you want to do it. He turns to leave... Lowell gets the door for him... Wigand momentarily slows... WIGAND I worked as the head of Research and Development for Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company. I was a Corporate Vice President. Mr. Bergman... And he goes out the door... Lowell's still. Wigand's job title resonates. Lowell turns to the window, casually looking into the early evening... and he comes face to face with what Wigand was staring at, The Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company Headquarters Building, lit up right across the street... INT. CBS, A SCREENING ROOM - DAY MIKE WALLACE (on screen) "President Assad of Syria said that difficult obstacles remain but that his country, quote, 'looks forward to a great, long peace with Israel.'" TAIL LEADER. THEN BLACK. Suddenly lights come on. Executive Producer DON HEWITT is suddenly on his feet. A veritable dervish, in constant motion... DON HEWITT (kissing Mike) It's a Peabody, Mike. When you're dead and buried, Hezbollah is the one they're gonna remember you for... Mike, used to him, ignores him, getting up, turning to leave, Hewitt on his tail... while... LOWELL (to his Editor) ...come in earlier on Mike's Marine barracks line when he's talking to Sheikh Mussawi... MIKE WALLACE You eating with us? LOWELL Yeah. MIKE WALLACE Bring a tie so they'll let us in the front door... And Lowell gestures for an olive-skinned Woman in her late thirties, Lowell's assistant, DEBBIE DELUCA, to join them. The eye contact on the way out says there's something important he needs to tell her... EXT. CBS - DAY There's a blast of NOISE. The City. Lowell, Wallace, Hewitt, Debbie, enter from the CBS lobby, moving through the reflections. Lowell is about to say something to Debbie, but BILL FELLING, Evening News' Assignment Editor, coming the other way... LOWELL Debbie... FELLING Hey, Lowell. Midstream, fast: LOWELL Oh, Bill... Main Justice is investigating a major New York bank. Laundering narco dollars out of their Mexico City branch. You want it for the Evening News? FELLING What about you, you got a crew already? LOWELL I'm gonna do a follow-up. FELLING Okay. (leaves) LOWELL Catch ya' later. EXT. 53RD STREET, NEW YORK - DAY Lowell, crossing... LOWELL Debbie... And, now, as they cross Madison... LOWELL (to Debbie; finally) I want you to get legal onto CORPORATE CONFIDENTIALITY AGREEMENTS. Boundaries of their constraint. Kentucky state law about. I want you to drop everything. DEBBIE DELUCA (cuts in) Okay. Hewitt stops to buy a newspaper. He doesn't have change, Debbie does. EXT. 55TH STREET (WESTBOUND), NEW YORK - DAY And Mike, Lowell and Don bang into Michael's restaurant. We SEE them through the glass, being greeted, people shaking their hands, escorted by the maitre d' to their table as... INT. THE BROWN & WILLIAMSON BUILDING, MAIN LOBBY, LOUISVILLE - DAY Meanwhile, it's static. Still, frozen. Jeffrey sits in the RECEPTION AREA of The Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company headquarters. Complimentary cigarettes are arranged on tables. A dark quiet. The hush of big business. Standing in the background by a wall next to the banks of elevators, is an ever-present Man, another one, with an earphone and lapel microphone... UNIFORMED SECURITY (to Wigand) Mr. Wigand, you can go up now... He gets up, crossing to an elevator. INT. THOMAS SANDEFUR'S OFFICE, BROWN & WILLIAMSON - DAY THOMAS SANDEFUR (re: his distraction) Sorry. I'm accepting an award from the Retinitis Pigmentosa Foundation. It's going to kill the rest of my day. THOMAS SANDEFUR is absorbed in spreadsheets of regional sales figures. Dark pouches are under his eyes. He doesn't look up. He doesn't look healthy. We're in a luxurious office with a view of Louisville. Jeffrey is waiting in a chair. Sandefur is Brown & Williamson's CEO. Two LAWYERS, their briefcases, like weapons, close at hand, sit on a couch. Their jackets are off. They wear expensive shirts. THOMAS SANDEFUR (finishing; looking up at Jeffrey) So. You had a chance to play golf? Surprisingly affable, Sandefur prides himself on his salesman's sunny manners. He has a mellifluous Georgia accent... THOMAS SANDEFUR (to the Lawyers) Jeff's a premiere golfer... What are you, a two handicap? WIGAND (precise) Seven... THOMAS SANDEFUR (to lawyer) And, he gets out there and he has five strokes on us. He has more concentration than anybody I've ever met. It's spooky how he can concentrate. WIGAND I'd rather play than talk about it. (beat) What did you want to see me about? I don't like being back here. Sandefur smiles, used to him. THOMAS SANDEFUR Jeffrey says exactly what's on his mind. Most people consider what they're saying... social skills... Jeffrey just charges right ahead. (smiles, after a beat) Now, I know you understood the nature of the confidentiality portion of your severance agreement with Brown & Williamson, Jeff... WIGAND Chapter and verse. THOMAS SANDEFUR (nods) Yeah, I know you do... (beat) You know, I came up through sales. One of the reasons I was a great salesman, was I never made a promise I couldn't keep. (beat) I knew that if I ever broke my promise I'd suffer the consequence... And there's a warning behind it... WIGAND (contained) Is that a threat? THOMAS SANDEFUR ...we worked together for, what was it, three years...? Now, the work we did here is confidential, not for public scrutiny... any more than are one's family matters... WIGAND (quietly) You threatening my family, now, too? THOMAS SANDEFUR Now, don't be paranoid, Jeff. (a beat) About the direction of research here, we may have had our differences of opinion... WIGAND "Research..." (smile + scorn) You declare, as a badge of honor, you don't even know what makes water boil... THOMAS SANDEFUR That's why we hire scientists... WIGAND (interrupts, direct) Okay. (a beat, honest) I don't believe you can maintain corporate integrity without confidentiality agreements. I was paid well for my work. The health and welfare benefits are good. The severance package is fair. I have no intention of violating my confidentiality agreement and disclosing that which I said I wouldn't. THOMAS SANDEFUR I appreciate all that, Jeff. But, upon reflection... we've decided to expand our zone of comfort with you. And there's a seriousness that weighs heavily on the room... THOMAS SANDEFUR So we've drafted a supplement to your agreement... it broadly defines and expands in more detail what is "confidential." Nobody will be able to say, "Well, hell's bells, Margaret, I didn't know that was a secret..." (beat) We're very serious about protecting our interests. (a beat) We'd like you to sign it. And he's acutely aware of the threat behind it... WIGAND (a beat) And if I don't? A LAWYER (speaking for Sandefur) If we "arrive" at the conclusion you're acting in bad faith? We would terminate, right now, payouts under your severance package. You and your family's medical benefits. And initiate litigation against you, Mr. Wigand. WIGAND Dr. Wigand. A LAWYER (a beat) Dr. Wigand... after you've examined the document, you will see it is in your own best interest and you'll sign it. Jeffrey slowly turns to face the attorney. And we see on his face the true nature of this man. WIGAND So, what you are saying is: it isn't enough that you fired me. For no good reason! Now you question my integrity? On top of the humiliation of being fired? You threaten me?! You threaten my family?! (beat) It never crossed my mind not to honor my agreement... (turning, to Sandefur) But I will tell you, Mr. Sandefur, and Brown & Williamson, too... Fuck me? (a beat) Well, fuck you!! And with that he gets up, and leaves... And it's quiet... A LAWYER I'm not sure he got the message... THOMAS SANDEFUR (with total confidence) Oh, I think he did. EXT. A PHONE BOOTH, LOUISVILLE - DAY Wigand picks up the phone and dials. INT. THE NEW YORK RESTAURANT - DAY They've finished lunch. Wallace and Hewitt are turned to talk to Sam Cohn and an older writer as suddenly Lowell's cell phone rings. LOWELL (answering) Yeah... WIGAND'S VOICE (over) ...you fucked me! LOWELL Who is this? EXT. A PHONE BOOTH, LOUISVILLE - DAY WIGAND (crazed) ...protect your sources...! You screwed me! You sold me out! INT. THE NEW YORK RESTAURANT - DAY LOWELL What are you talking about? Where are you? EXT. THE PHONE BOOTH, LOUISVILLE - DAY WIGAND Fuck you, too! And he slams down the phone. INT. THE RESTAURANT, NEW YORK - DAY Lowell, holding the dead phone in his hand... EXT. A GOLF DRIVING RANGE, LOUISVILLE - NIGHT We see a brightly lit, golf driving range, empty, the wet grass under the lights vibrant, emerald green... A caged cart, with one big yellow headlight, like some kind of strange insect, drives across the range, picking up golf balls. And we see Jeffrey hitting golf balls, driving one after another, after another... His swing is powerful, angry, a lone golfer, trying to chill out. He pauses, spent. Settling down, he exhales. Then, he looks down the way... And he slows... He sees in the far distance, spot-lit, one other lone golfer, a Stocky Man, incongruously in a suit and tie, watching him... And the Man in the suit right then, with great power and a tremendous follow through drives a golf ball... The ball slamming into the steel net. And the lights SUDDENLY go out. The range closing for the night. The "insect" comes to a stop. And it's quiet, dark. Jeffrey gathers up his clubs. He crosses, his golf shoes, the metal cleats, clicking on the pavement, toward the PARKING LOT. And there's the sound of the clicking of golf shoes behind him. He turns. And the stocky Man in the suit, carrying a golf bag walking some distance behind him, staring at him. Jeffrey comes to the parking lot. It's empty. Just Jeffrey's car, and despite all the empty spaces, another car, purposely or otherwise, parked right next to his. He crosses to his car, getting in... INT. WIGAND'S CAR - NIGHT He drops the three clubs in the rear seat and settles behind the wheel. He turns. And he sees the Man in the suit has gotten in the car next to his. They look at each other. The Man, in no hurry, lights a cigarette, relaxes. It's malevolent as hell. And Jeffrey, suddenly, grabbing a golf club, jumps out of his car... EXT. THE PARKING LOT, DRIVING RANGE, LOUISVILLE - NIGHT Golf club in hand at the driver side window... WIGAND (motioning with the club, threatening) Stay away from me! You stay away from me! The Man starts his car, and drives off nonplussed. It's still. And as Jeffrey with the golf club stands in the empty parking lot, not knowing what's threatening him, something real, something imaginary... EXT. THE WIGAND HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - WIDE SHOT: WIGANDS' HOUSE - EARLY MORNING A violent rain's falling. And we see Jeffrey coming out of the house holding an umbrella over his little Girls. They start towards the car. There's the sound of a car door shutting. Liane, carrying lunch boxes, comes after them... LIANE Jeffrey, you forgot their lunches -- She slows, seeing someone. Jeffrey turns: it's Lowell. He's surprised. LOWELL Mrs. Wigand, how do you do? WIGAND (to the girls, protectively) Jump in, quick, c'mon... LOWELL I'm Lowell Bergman. We spoke on the phone, remember? The Girls climb in the car. Lowell crosses behind the Audi around the far side. LOWELL C'mere. I want to talk to you. WIGAND Good. I want to talk to you. Jeff closes the door on his daughters and joins Lowell around the far side of the car. WIGAND (confronting him) What do... LOWELL (running over) I did not burn you. I did not give you up to anyone! WIGAND (continuing) This is my house... In front of my wife, my kids?! What business do we have? LOWELL To straighten something out with you. Right here. Right now. WIGAND So, you didn't mention my name? You haven't talked to anybody about me? LOWELL Why am I gonna mention your name? WIGAND How did Brown & Williamson know I spoke to you...? LOWELL How the hell do I know about Brown & Williamson? WIGAND It happened after I talked to you. I do not like coincidences! LOWELL And I don't like paranoid accusations! I'm a journalist. Think. Use your head. How do I operate as a journalist by screwing the people who could provide me with information before they provided me with it? WIGAND (skeptical) You came all the way down here to tell me that? LOWELL No. I did not. Big Tobacco is a big story. And you got something important to say. I can tell. (a beat, personal) But, yes. I did. I came all the way down here to tell you: story, no story, fuck your story, I don't burn people. It starts to rain harder. They look at each other. Jeffrey, without saying a word, gets in the car. He backs out. Lowell, left standing in the driveway with Liane in the rain. Liane goes back into the house. And Lowell starts back across the street to his car. There's a sound. He turns. Jeffrey's car, having gone around the corner, has come back and stopped in the street. WIGAND (after a beat) Ride with me while I take the girls to school... Lowell hesitates, then gets into the car in the back seat. INT. WIGAND'S CAR - MORNING They drive away. Lowell, incongruously sitting in the back seat with Barbara. Jeffrey and Deborah in the front seat. And it's quiet, just the sound of the wipers on the window. And as Lowell rides with them... EXT. A RIVERSIDE PARKING LOT IN LOUISVILLE - WIDE REAR SHOT MORNING We see the Car's parked in a weed-strewn empty lot. Rain, pounding on it and the surface of the river beyond... WIGAND'S VOICE ...and my little girl has acute asthma... Deborah. My eldest daughter. INT. WIGAND'S CAR, LOUISVILLE - REAR TWO SHOT - MORNING The Girls are gone. We enter mid-scene. Lowell's still in the back seat... WIGAND And, I'm unemployed. So I have to protect my medical coverage. (the bottom line; turning to look at Lowell in the rear seat) ...so I left them a message this morning. Their expanded confidentiality agreement? I will sign it. LOWELL They're afraid of you, aren't they? WIGAND They should be. The sound of the rain... LOWELL (after a beat, trying to make it easier for him) Talk to me outside the zone of your agreement? WIGAND (guarded) Like what? LOWELL Like where'd you work before Brown & Williamson? WIGAND (a beat) Johnson & Johnson. Union Carbide in Japan. I was general manager and director of new products. I speak Japanese. I was a director of corporate development at Pfizer. All health-related. (wry) What else? Outside the "zone"...? LOWELL I don't know... you think the Knicks are gonna make it through the semi- finals? Wigand smiles... as their eyes meet in the rear view mirror. A subtle connection... It passes... DISSOLVE TO: INT. WIGAND'S CAR - WIDE FRONTAL - DAY Jeff's car in the field, the giant Colgate-Palmolive clock behind. The rain stopped. Steam rises from the weed strewn empty lot. Lowell's in the front seat. And we get the feeling they've been talking for hours... LOWELL'S VOICE Just give me an example... WIGAND For example. James Burke, the CEO of Johnson & Johnson... when he found out that some lunatic had put poison in Tylenol bottles, he didn't argue with the FDA... He didn't even wait for the FDA to tell him. He just pulled Tylenol off every shelf of every store right across America. Instantly. And then he developed the safety cap... Because, look, as a CEO, sure, he's gotta be a great businessman, right? But he's also a man of science. He's not going to allow his company... to put on the shelf... a product that might hurt people. (sarcastic) Not like the Seven Dwarfs... LOWELL Seven dwarfs? WIGAND The seven CEOs of Big Tobacco... they got up in front of Congress that time... it was on television... LOWELL ...and swore under oath that they know nothing about addiction, disease... WIGAND It was on C-SPAN. Yeah. LOWELL Okay, so, here you are... you go to work for tobacco. (after beat) You come from corporate cultures where research, really, creative thinking, these are core values. You go to tobacco... Tobacco is a sales culture. Market and sell enormous volume. Go to a lot of golf tournaments. The hell with everything else. (beat) What are you doing? Why are you working for "tobacco" in the first place? WIGAND (deadly honest) I can't talk about it. The work I was supposed to do... might have had some positive effect. I don't know... it could have been beneficial. (bitterness there) Mostly, I got paid a lot. I took the money. My wife was happy. My kids had good medical. Good schools. Got a great house. (simply) I mean, what the hell is wrong with that...? He looks at Lowell, as if needing validation... LOWELL Nothing's wrong with that. That's it; you're making money... you're providing for your family? What could be wrong with that? It's quiet. After some moments... WIGAND I've always thought of myself... as a man of science. That's what's wrong with it. LOWELL Then... you're in a state of conflict, Jeff. Jeffrey doesn't say anything. LOWELL Because, look, here's how it lays out: if you got vital, insider stuff the American people for their welfare really do need to know... and you feel impelled to disclose it and violate your agreement in doing so, that's one thing. On the other hand, if you want to honor this agreement, then that's simple. You do so. You say nothing. You do nothing. There's only one guy who can figure that out for you. And that's you. All by yourself. Lowell's evenhanded... is it too evenhanded? As Wigand contemplates the edge he's standing on, they're quiet. Then Wigand sees the time... WIGAND I've got to go pick up the girls. They only had half a day... Lowell nods. Jeffrey starts the car. The windshield wipers screech on a dry window. Their eyes meet. As they drive off... we HOLD on the Colgate-Palmolive Clock. INT. A KITCHEN AREA, CBS OFFICES, NEW YORK - DAY We've entered mid-scene... A monitor on a cart plays a 1/2- inch VCR of a C-SPAN broadcast. Seven CEOs of Big Tobacco... in front of a bas relief of the American eagle. Each in turn swears nicotine is not addictive or he doesn't know anything about health risks, they're not sure, maybe, maybe not, etc... LOWELL He referred to this... the Seven Dwarfs... MIKE WALLACE (over) What "Seven Dwarfs?" LOWELL The seven CEOs of Big Tobacco... Referred to this... Said they should be afraid of him... I assume, afraid of what he could reveal. (to Staff Lawyers) Now, you tell me. What does this guy have to say that threatens these people? And, now, we see Lowell, Mike Wallace and Debbie DeLuca with two staff Lawyers, MARK STERN and JOHN HARRIS, sitting around a workstation used as an improvised eating area. Beyond them are the "60 MINUTES" offices, workstations, piles of material, television monitors hanging from the ceiling, all tuned to CBS programming... MIKE WALLACE Well, it isn't "cigarettes are bad for you"... LOWELL Hardly new news. MIKE WALLACE No shit. LOWELL What's this? MARK STERN (re: video) What that is is tobacco's standard defense. It's the "we don't know" litany: "Addiction? We believe not. Disease? We don't know. We take a bunch of leaves, roll 'em together. You smoke 'em. After that? You're on your own. We don't know." (beat) So... tells me nothing. (beat) Besides, you'll never get what he's got. LOWELL Why not? JOHN HARRIS Because of this guy's confidentiality agreement, he is never gonna be able to talk to you. LOWELL That's not good enough. This guy is the top scientist in the number three tobacco company in America. He's a corporate officer. You never get whistle-blowers from Fortune 500 companies. This guy is the ultimate insider. He's got something to say; he wants to say it; I want it on "60 Minutes." JOHN HARRIS Doesn't matter what he wants. MIKE WALLACE Am I missing something here? JOHN HARRIS What do you mean, Mike? MIKE WALLACE He's got a corporate secrecy agreement? Give me a break. This is a public-health issue, like an unsafe airframe on a passenger jet or... some company dumping cyanide into the East River. Issues like that? He can talk, we can air it. They've got no right to hide behind a corporate agreement. (re: his coffee) Pass the milk... JOHN HARRIS (does) They don't need the right. They've got the money. MARK STERN The unlimited checkbook. That's how Big Tobacco wins every time. On everything. They spend you to death. $600 million a year in outside legal. Chadbourne-Parke. Ken Starr's firm, Kirkland and Ellis. Listen. GM and Ford, they get nailed after 11 or 12 pick-ups blow up. Right? These clowns have never... I mean ever... JOHN HARRIS Not even once... MARK STERN ...not even with hundreds of thousands dying each year from an illness related to their product... have ever lost a personal-injury lawsuit. On this case, they'll issue gag orders, sue for breach, anticipatory breach, enjoin him, you, us, his pet dog, the dog's veterinarian... Tie him up in litigation for ten of fifteen years. I'm telling you, they bat a thousand. Every time. He knows that. That's why he's not gonna talk to you... Lowell's been quiet, thinking about something else... Now... LOWELL Okay, let's look through the looking glass the other way... MIKE WALLACE What do you mean? LOWELL We got a guy... who wants to talk but he's constrained. (beat) What if he were "compelled"? MIKE WALLACE (eating) Oh, torture? Great ratings. MARK STERN What do you mean compelled? LOWELL (seriously) I mean compelled by a Justice Department, state courts, be a witness. That would cut through any confidentiality agreement, wouldn't it? MARK STERN Yeah... DEBBIE DELUCA What does that do? LOWELL What do you mean, what's it do? DEBBIE DELUCA What I mean is, like, how does it cut through the confidentiality agreement? LOWELL Because he has to reveal it in a court of law. It's on record, it's out. It's no secret anymore. So how can they restrain his speech or retaliate? It's out in the world... MARK STERN (nods) If you could engineer it into the court record, you might have something. They would have a helluva time trying to restrain his speech then, wouldn't they? Pause. JOHN HARRIS (still skeptical) Yeah, but what venue? And where does he get -- does he have killer attorneys? LOWELL I don't think he's got any attorneys. MARK STERN He's gonna need attorneys who aren't afraid of risking years of litigation. And millions of dollars of their own dough in legal costs... LOWELL What do you say, Mike? What do you think? MIKE WALLACE (pause) Even if he gets the defense team, will he go for it? INT. A HIGH SCHOOL CAFETERIA, LOUISVILLE - DAY MRS. WATSON ...you're awfully overqualified, Dr. Wigand. The aftermath of a high school lunch. Tables, covered with litter, as far as the eye can see. And we see Jeffrey sitting with a formidable Black Woman in her mid-fifties, the High School Principal, CYNTHIA WATSON, drinking cups of coffee... WIGAND (after a beat, awkward) I'm trying to... start a new career... I believe I could be a good teacher... She's quiet. She senses this applicant has a lot on his mind. MRS. WATSON Let me give it some thought... WIGAND (selling) ...and not a lot of companies in the health-care field hire ex-tobacco scientists. She nods, studying him. They get up. INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - DAY The house is nearly empty. Liane, arms folded across her chest, is quietly standing in the empty living room. Jeffrey comes down the stairs... WIGAND That's it... And it's quiet. And Liane holds herself, overcome... LIANE (beat) That's where our babies were born... Debbie took her first steps, right there... in the grass. And they're quiet. LIANE I didn't plan on this... Liane looks at him, afraid. And as he moves to hold her. WIGAND Hey, hey, hey, c'mon. C'mon. We can make this work for us. Okay? It's just... it's a smaller scale. Simpler... easier... more time. More time together. More time with the kids. More time for us, okay? It's just... Can you imagine me coming home from some job feeling good at the end of the day? This is gonna be better. This is gonna be better. And instead of this downturn turning them against each other, it brings them closer together. And as they stand in the empty house... INT. THE WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE - DAY We see unpacked boxes in the small 1970's kitchen. Country- western music is playing on a radio. And we see Liane busily putting things away in a cabinet. And, then, stops and looks out the window. She tightens a knob on a cabinet. There's a moment of domestic peace for her as she sees... EXT. THE WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE, THE BACKYARD - DAY Jeffrey with the Girls in a part of the backyard, kneeling in the dirt, planting a vegetable garden, putting in some small tomato trellises. We see the house, now. It's a small, one story. Deborah sees her mom and waves. It's an image from the 1950's post-war boom. Liane waves back from behind the pane of glass... INT. WIGANDS' HOUSE #2, BEDROOM - LATE NIGHT Jeffrey's asleep on his side next to Liane, her back to him. His arm is draped over her, protectively. There's a sound. He turns. And he sees Barbara in her nightgown, standing in the doorway... WIGAND Hey, baby. What's wrong? BARBARA (terrified, whispers) What's that outside, Daddy? WIGAND Did you see somebody or did you hear them? BARBARA I heard them. WIGAND Where? BARBARA In the backyard. Fast, soundlessly, he's out of bed into old moccasins and trousers... INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, BASEMENT - LATE NIGHT Jeffrey goes into a corner of the basement, around the corner from the furnace, where his "office" is now. Unpacked boxes are on the floor. He fumbles with the combination lock on a small gun safe, lifts the lid, taking out a hand gun. Barbara followed him. WIGAND Sit at Daddy's desk, okay? Why don't you just sit up at the desk. Get out some paper and draw me a picture, okay? What are you gonna draw me, baby? An animal, something like that? You stay down here until Daddy gets back... alright, Barbara? You stay down here. He keeps it hidden from Barbara. He goes up the stairs. EXT. WIGANDS' HOUSE #2, BACKYARD - LATE NIGHT It's still. He steps further out onto the lawn with its dark shrubs and small tree in the corner. INT. WIGANDS' HOUSE #2, BASEMENT - LATE NIGHT Meanwhile, Barbara in the basement, starts as the water heater comes on, scaring her. She goes up the stairs to follow after her father... EXT. WIGANDS' HOUSE #2, BACKYARD - LATE NIGHT Meanwhile, Jeffrey has crossed towards the darker back corners. Sudden rustling. He spins, gun ready. And the yellow eyes of a RACCOON stare at him. WIGAND (to himself) You almost got your damn head blown off... The raccoon defiantly bares its teeth. Jeffrey starts to go... but he sees something and stops... Meanwhile, Barbara has come to the sliding glass door... Jeffrey sees one of the tomato trellises is crushed, stepped on... and in the vegetable garden's earth, are distinct, fresh, deep FOOTPRINTS... BARBARA'S VOICE Daddy... Wigand steps between her and the garden, hiding it... EXTREMELY CLOSE ON JEFFREY, as he covers, trying to keep from his daughter the invasion, trying to control his emotions... WIGAND (reassuring her) It's just a raccoon, baby... nothing. He crosses to her, putting his arm, around her, walking her back inside... WIGAND They're nocturnal. You know what that means? That means that they only come out at nighttime. He locks the sliding glass door, takes a last look outside. INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE IN BERKELEY - LATE AT NIGHT The Phone suddenly RINGS. Lowell asleep, alone... He gets it... LOWELL (sleepy) Yeah... INT. WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE, HALLWAY - LATE AT NIGHT It's dark, save a light from the living room. Liane, in bed, seemingly sleeping. And we see Jeffrey, just outside their door in the foyer, sitting on the floor against a curved wall, a drink at his side on the telephone... A man with no one to talk to... WIGAND (after a beat) Lowell... Jeffrey Wigand... INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, BERKELEY - LATE AT NIGHT Lowell sits up... WIGAND'S VOICE Is it too late? LOWELL No. No, it's okay... How's -- how's the new place? INT. THE WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE - LATE AT NIGHT WIGAND The new place? New. INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, BERKELEY - LATE AT NIGHT LOWELL (intuiting) You okay? WIGAND'S VOICE Sure. Lowell knows he isn't... LOWELL You know, I was thinking of calling you tomorrow, anyway. (beat) How are your kids handling the new house? INT. WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - LATE AT NIGHT WIGAND Good. (beat) You have kids? LOWELL'S VOICE We have a couple. One's hers, one's mine. Everybody uses a different name. (wry) Modern marriage. (beat) How's Liane? WIGAND She's okay. He looks at Liane for beat. We SEE his POV in medium shot. Then he moves and sits on the floor in the living room. WIGAND Hold on a minute, Lowell... (after a beat) ...somebody... may be following me. I don't know. They came on the property... LOWELL'S VOICE What do you mean followed you? Did you call the police? WIGAND I don't want to be paranoid... I mean, maybe it's a game. Some kind of mind game. LOWELL'S VOICE Well, what do you really think, though? WIGAND I don't know what the fuck I really think! Are they doing it? Is some crank doing it? Are they doing it to make me feel paranoid? Are they doing it for real and don't give a shit what I think? I don't know! I don't fucking know. And it's quiet again. INT. LOWELL'S HOUSE, BERKELEY - LATE AT NIGHT Lowell sitting in bed on the phone, alarmed, sharing Wigand's fears. LOWELL Jeffrey, describe for me in detail what happened. INT. WIGANDS' HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - LATE NIGHT And Jeffrey's emotions are back in check as... WIGAND Well, no, look... I mean, there was a footprint. Forget it. It's probably not important at all. (beat) You know, I got a job now. I'm teaching high school. Japanese and Chemistry. (beat) So, what were you calling about? LOWELL'S VOICE You called me. He takes another drink... WIGAND No, you said you were going to call me tomorrow. So, what about? LOWELL (after a beat) Oh, yes, yes, yes, I did... I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hook up and talk to you. About what we were talking about in your car. WIGAND ...okay. LOWELL (after a beat) Makes you feel good? Putting what you know to use? Jeffrey's impressed by Lowell's perceptivity... WIGAND How'd you know that, Lowell? LOWELL It's obvious, isn't it? He looks at Liane in the next room, asleep. LOWELL Hello. You there WIGAND Yeah... Look, thanks for talking. I'm sorry I woke you up. LOWELL It's okay. Jeffrey hesitates, holding the phone, then he hangs up... but the phone RINGS right away. WIGAND Lowell...? But there's thick silence. WIGAND Who is this? Do not call here! Do not... They hang up. And he realizes he's talking to a DIAL TONE. He hangs up. And as he sits in the patch of light from a street lamp, the gun in his hand on his lap, to be up all night guarding his family... INT. THEIR BEDROOM - LATE NIGHT And past Liane's sleeping form down the hall into the living room is her husband, his back to her, sitting in the trapezoid of light. And as we DOLLY along her side, we come upon her face and discover she's been up all along and her eyes are pressed shut, her hands over her ears... her reaction to his raging on the phone. She's far from "OKAY." INT. A JAPANESE RESTAURANT, WASHINGTON D.C. - NIGHT And we see Lowell and Wigand sitting in their stocking feet at a traditional Japanese table in a private screened room... A traditionally-dressed Japanese Waitress waiting to take their order... Wigand conversing with her in Japanese... The Waitress formally nods, and leaves... LOWELL What did you get us? WIGAND Tempura... And Wigand drinks some more saki. WIGAND The internet said you did graduate work in Wisconsin, then went to UC La Jolla with Professor... Marcus? LOWELL Marcuse. Yeah. He was my mentor. He had a major influence on the New Left in the late '60s... and on me, personally. WIGAND Next to your father? LOWELL My father? What the hell's that got to do with my father? WIGAND Is that why you became a journalist? Then you get to ask all the questions? LOWELL You charge by the hour? WIGAND My father was a mechanical engineer... most ingenious man I ever knew. LOWELL Well, my father left us when I was five-years old. He was not the most ingenious man I ever knew... Let's get back to Brown & Williamson. If you decide to go on "60 Minutes," I got to know everything about why you got fired. WIGAND Why? LOWELL They're gonna dig up stuff from your past, they're gonna throw it at you. I got to know what they're gonna throw. You understand? WIGAND (concedes) I drink. A couple of occasions more than I should have. (thinks) I was cited for shoplifting once. But it was a mistake... (hesitant, after a beat) I pushed Liane one time. We were both stressed out because of the pressure. She went to her mother's. (out of the blue) I got fired because when I get angry I have difficulty censoring myself. And I don't like to be pushed around! LOWELL I'm not pushing you around! (after a beat) I'm asking you questions. WIGAND I'm just a commodity to you, aren't I? I could be anything. Right? Anything worth putting on between commercials... LOWELL (honest) ...to a network, probably, we're all commodities. (beat) To me? You are not a commodity. What you are is important. And he's begun to consciously or unconsciously "sell"... LOWELL You go public and thirty-million people hear what you got to say, nothing, I mean nothing, will ever be the same again. Wigand doesn't react. LOWELL You believe that? WIGAND (skeptical) No. LOWELL You should. Because when you're done, a judgment is going to go down in the court of public opinion, my friend. And that's the power you have. WIGAND You believe that? LOWELL I believe that? Yes, I believe that. WIGAND You believe that because you get information out to people... something happens? LOWELL Yes. WIGAND Maybe that's just what you've been telling yourself all these years to justify having a good job? Having status? And maybe for the audience, it's just voyeurism? Something to do on a Sunday night. And maybe it won't change a fucking thing. And people like myself and my family are left hung out to dry. Used up! Broke, alone! LOWELL Are you talking to me or did somebody else just walk in here?! I never abandoned a source! WIGAND I don't think you really understand -- LOWELL (running over) No, don't evade a choice you gotta make be questioning my reputation or "60 Minutes'" with this cheap skepticism! WIGAND I have to put my family's welfare on the line here, my friend! And what are you puttin' up? You're puttin' up words! LOWELL Words! While you've been dickin' around at fucking company golf tournaments, I been out in the world, giving my word and backing it up with action. Lowell is getting very close, in spite of the value of Wigand, to telling Jeff to take his story and stick it up his ass. LOWELL Now, are you going to go do this thing, or not? Wigand abruptly rises... WIGAND (surprisingly mild) I said I'd call the kids before they went to bed. Onisa... And turning, he crosses the restaurant. And that's where it hangs. INT. A CBS EDITING SUITE, NEW YORK - DAY And we see we're watching footage in an on-line editing bay from what we will learn is Lowell's "N.O.P.D. Blue" on police corruption in New Orleans. Lowell, TONY BALDO (his editor), Debbie and an intense YOUNG MAN wearing glasses, an Intern, looking at the cut. All the police are on horseback, lots of cops on horses. Lowell is waiting for a call to go through... LOWELL The stringer was supposed to be shooting B-roll on street cops in New Orleans. What's with all the horses? TONY BALDO Camera guy's got a thing about mounted police. LOWELL (re: horses) Don't any of these guys ride in cars or walk? TONY BALDO How long did he stay on this? LOWELL What was he seeing? DEBBIE DELUCA (into phone) Yes, hello... I'm trying to reach Mr. Richard Scruggs... INT. A LEAR JET - DAY And we see the PILOT, a fit-looking, unassuming man, wearing aviator glasses, in his late forties. A heavyset Man in his forties, riding up in the co-pilot's seat we'll come to know as RON MOTLEY. The Pilot's on a headset... He has a distinctive Southern accent... THE PILOT This is Richard Scruggs... DEBBIE DELUCA Could you hold on one second, please? (to Lowell) Lowell, I got him on the phone. LOWELL'S VOICE Hello, I'm Lowell Bergman. RICHARD SCRUGGS Hold on... Mobile approach... this is Lear November 643. Over. CONTROL OPERATOR'S VOICE (over) Go ahead 643. RICHARD SCRUGGS (after a beat) Request a flight level 220, on a heading of 284 degrees. Over. (after a beat) Mr. Bergman? LOWELL Yes, I'm right here. Could you call me back on a hard line? RICHARD SCRUGGS Alright. LOWELL Area code 212-555-0199. RICHARD SCRUGGS I'll call you then. INT. A LOUNGE, PRIVATE AVIATION TERMINAL - DAY Through the window, we see Scruggs' plane being refueled while Scruggs and Motley in a run-down lounge are talking on a SPEAKER PHONE with Lowell. They've taken over the Secretary's office for privacy. LOWELL (re: footage) What do we do with that? The phone rings. DEBBIE DELUCA I don't know. RICHARD SCRUGGS' VOICE (over) Richard Scruggs... LOWELL ...you filed a lawsuit against tobacco on behalf of the State of Mississippi, did you not? RICHARD SCRUGGS (nods) That's right... LOWELL (after a beat) Well, I'm working with someone, now, who was the former head of research at Brown & Williamson, a former corporate officer there. RICHARD SCRUGGS What's your interest in this, Mr. Bergman? LOWELL Well, he may tape an interview with us. And, we believe if his testimony showed up in a court record first, it would free him up from his confidentiality agreement and give him some protection. MOTLEY It could work. If it's public record, it's public record. LOWELL Yeah, and he's going to need legal representation. MOTLEY He sure as hell will. RICHARD SCRUGGS (a beat) Has he decided to go public? Because let me tell you, we've been doing this for three years now, and we've worked with a lot of corporate cases involving whistle-blowers, so we know... Big Tobacco will do everything in their power to stop him. So, is your man truly committed? LOWELL Well, actually, no. Well, he's on the fence. That's the point. Scruggs and Motley exchange a look... Motley shrugs... RICHARD SCRUGGS Well, we'd certainly be interested in making his acquaintance, but without knowing what he's going to do... LOWELL Well, would you want him to call you? Or, you want to call him? How do you want to do it? RICHARD SCRUGGS (no nonsense) It would be better if he called us. LOWELL Yeah. RICHARD SCRUGGS Alright? LOWELL Okay. Thank you. At this moment, these two attorneys are unsold on the prospect of Jeffrey Wigand. Scruggs disconnects. LOWELL Shit... INT. CBS EDITING SUITE, NEW YORK - DAY LOWELL (contemplating phone; to Debbie re: show) Oh, we need cops on the street. We don't need them on horses. DEBBIE DELUCA I don't know what he was thinking. LOWELL Oh, for God's sake, what has this guy got, a horse fetish? DEBBIE DELUCA Alright, alright. LOWELL Get me to New Orleans this afternoon. I'll shoot the fucking thing myself! TIGHTEN on mounted New Orleans police at crime scene, herding crowd. INT. THE WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE, KITCHEN - TWILIGHT Liane cooking dinner, making pasta. Ingredients, diced tomato, basil, are neatly ordered. She's waiting for water to boil. The kids are doing homework on the round table in the kitchenette. It's an idle moment. She's dazed-out watching them. DEBORAH What are you cooking? LIANE I'm cooking pasta primavera. DEBORAH Oh, I love that stuff. And now she hears from the basement the BELL RING on Jeffrey's computer. It's a tiny bell, incessant... She crosses to the basement stairs. LIANE I'm going to have to go downstairs. INT. WIGANDS' NEW HOUSE, BASEMENT OFFICE - NIGHT Liane down the stairs, approaching Jeffrey's computer. And she SEES an incoming E-mail icon -- a large letter with wings -- flying repetitively across the screen. The bell RINGING is louder. She calls-up the E-mail... On the screen in large RED letters: WE WILL KILL YOU. WE WILL KILL ALL OF YOU. SHUT THE FUCK UP. And now Liane is shouting and running up the stairs and... LIANE Debbie, Barbara... Debbie! EXT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - EVENING Jeffrey, having arrived home from work, pulls the mail out of the mailbox, now stands, frozen, staring at something... And he sees, standing upright in the back of the mail box, like a monument of threat, a single hollow point .38 CALIBER BULLET. He freezes... And simultaneously... Liane and the Girls are running toward him... like in a bad fucking dream. He's looking at them. Liane is saying something about E-mail, but his slow-motion attention is still arrested by the statuesque bullet. As they close on him... EXT. NEW ORLEANS, THE FRENCH QUARTER - NIGHT And we see Lowell lit by FLASHING POLICE LIGHTS. We're at a crime scene. Uniformed cops on horseback. Just arrived, the Cameraman's unloading his gear, preparing to shoot B-roll. LOWELL What happened? COP Dispatch received a call of shots fired in the area. Uniforms arrived on the scene and found this white male subject shot to death. LOWELL Was it gang related? COP There's no indication as far as a tag or an advertisement... Police moving around as Lowell's cell phone RINGS... LOWELL (answering) Excuse me. Yeah... INT. WIGANDS' HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT WIGAND They're terrorizing us. Death threats?! To my family? My kids?! LOWELL'S VOICE What are you talking about? WIGAND Someone put a bullet in my mailbox. LOWELL Jeff, call the FBI right away... WIGAND They do this with impunity! LOWELL Jeff... WIGAND They get to go home at night. What does it cost these people to do this to us? Nothing?! My girls are crying, so fuck them! I want to tape! I'm done thinking about it. LOWELL'S VOICE (frustrated) I heard you. But I got to arrange a legal defense first. I got to get you to testify in court, get it on public record. WIGAND (cuts in) Then hold it off the air until you got that. But I want to go to New York. And I want to go on the record. Right now! LOWELL Good. But Jeff... WIGAND I'll call them, Lowell. INT. WIGAND'S HOUSE, LOUISVILLE - NIGHT And two older, local FBI AGENTS #1 and #2 are sitting with Jeffrey in his living room... FBI AGENT #2 Did you handle the round, Mr. Wigand? WIGAND Yes, I'm afraid I did. FBI AGENT #1 We won't be able to lift usable prints. FBI AGENT #2 Do you own a gun, Mr. Wigand? WIGAND A gun? Yes. FBI AGENT #2 What caliber is your gun? WIGAND What caliber is my gun? FBI AGENT #2 Yes, sir. What caliber is your gun? WIGAND (a dawning realization) What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? Now one of the kids is crying, Liane trying to calm her, takes her out of the room. WIGAND (a beat, realizing) You think I put that bullet in the mailbox myself...? FBI AGENT #2 If we could take a look, Mr. Wigand... And he gets up... They follow him into the bedroom. He unlocks the side drawer on his night stand, taking out a gun, giving it to one of the Agents. FBI AGENT #1 Why do you keep this gun? WIGAND I don't think it's unconstitutional yet to own a gun. I'm a target shooter. FBI AGENT #2 That bullet was for a .38 caliber. Do you own a .38? WIGAND Yes, I do. A .38 Target Master. In my gun safe downstairs. A .45 Gold Cup. A .22 target pistol. So what? FBI AGENT #2 (after a beat) Do you have a history of emotional problems, Mr. Wigand? WIGAND Yes. Yes, I do. (beat) Yes, I get extremely emotional when assholes put bullets in my mailbox...! And we hear Liane's voice from downstairs... LIANE'S VOICE (upset) I didn't tell you that so you could just pick it up and take it away. Jeffrey! And we see Liane following FBI Agent #3, coming up the stairs from the basement, and the Agent is carrying Jeffrey's computer... WIGAND What's going on?