“COLD WIND” by Dan Mazur
THE ARCTIC
A mountainous ice desert. The sky is dark and speckled with stars.
A LONE FIGURE
Trudges over the ice. Wearing white arctic camouflage. Insulated but mobile. Face obscured by snow mask and goggles. This is CRAIN. Over his shoulder is slung a case that could hold a rifle (and in fact does).
A POLAR BEAR
stands in front of a high wall made of ice (a man-made wall, not a natural one). The polar bear holds a rifle at its side in the attitude of a guard.
A WIDER ANGLE
revealing a broader stretch of the wall. There’s a gated entrance, with a polar bear guard on either side.
CLOSE ON CRAIN’S EYES
Through goggles. The gaze is cold, hard, observant.
CRAIN LIES PRONE
on an icy outcropping, surveying the scene below: the bares guarding the gate.
CRAIN’S HAND
reaches for
A SNIPER RIFLE
His hand closes around it.
ONE OF THE BEARS
is seen through the cross-hairs of a gun sight (circular panel).
CRAIN’S GLOVED FINGER
pulls the trigger.
THE BEAR IS HIT
falls back against the wall, blood stain forming in the fur of its chest.
GUN SIGHT POV MOVES QUICKLY TO
THE OTHER BEAR
as it reacts, starting toward its fallen comrade…
…and is thrown back by the impact of a bullet.
THE BEARS LIE DEAD
As Crain’s boots trudge between them.
WIDER ANGLE
The gate, and behind it a PALACE OF ICE. Crain walks toward it.
SIDE OF THE ICE PALACE – LOOKING DIWN
from the 2nd story or so. Light pours out from some of the window. Crain is crouched by the wall, far below.
CLOSER
Crain holds a small acetylene torch and is melting/cutting through the palace wall.
INSIDE THE PALACE
Crain hides behind a column. Behind him, we see the opening in the wall he entered through. His mask and goggles have been shed.
He cautiously looks out from behind the column.
THE GRAND HALL OF THE PALACE
with sweeping staircases, icycle chandaliers, ice statuary and other palatial touches. It’s empty and shadowy.
CRAIN
watches a moment longer.
Nothing changes.
Steam when he exhales.
CRAIN WALKS ACROSS THE HALL
toward the staircase. In his hand is a SILENCED PISTOL.
He puts a foot on the bottom stair. Looks up.
A LITTLE GIRL
stands at the top of the steps looking down at him.
CRAIN’S REACTION
calm, with the slightest hint of a frown at the unexpected.
THE LITTLE GIRL
is pale blonde and is dressed as one might imagine a fanciful Russian princess: an embroidered tunic, a sash, furry boots.
OFF-PANEL VOICE
Children, children!
A GAGGLE OF CHILDREN
similarly dressed, are running down the hallway toward the little girl. Behind them, a flustered TUTOR wearing a long robe (he may be a walrus, I’m not sure) chases them, carrying a candle-holder or oil lamp.
TUTOR
Please, your highnesses! Single file! Single file!
The giggling children line up behind the little girl, who is still looking down the stair.
TUTOR
Oh that’s better – oh – my – down the stairs SLOWLY now, please…
The children proceed down the staircase. Crain is not to be seen.
TUTOR
…not too much NOISE please!
CRAIN
hides behind a statue in one of the niches that accompany the staircase. He isn’t completely hidden, though.
THE LITTLE GIRL
looks at him as she passes.
CRAIN
puts a “shh” finger to his lips.
THE LITTLE GIRL SMILES
and continues down.
HIGH ANGLE
The children and tutor have reached the bottom of the stairs and are exiting from frame.
TUTOR
Stay in line, my angels, I beg you!
CRAIN
takes the rest of the stairs two at a time.
SECOND FLOOR IN THE HALLWAY
Crain looks around a corner.
Down another hall, with a large doorway at the end.
INT. BEDROOM
The same door, seen from the other side, opening slowly, light from the hall slicing into a dark room.
AN OLD MAN
lies asleep in bed. He has a full white beard, long white hair. The light from the opening door is spilling across his face.
CRAIN IS IN THE ROOM NOW
closing the door. It’s a large bedroom dominated by a four-poster, which holds the old man.
THE OLD MAN
opens his eyes.
HIS POV: CRAIN
stands at the foot of his bed.
THE OLD MAN SITS UP
in shock.
OLD MAN
Who…?! How DARE you enter my…
CRAIN LIFTS HIS GUN
CRAIN
Sorry, your majesty. Nothing personal.
He FIRES a silenced shot.
THE OLD MAN FALLS BACK
on his pillow, with a hole in his forehead.
CRAIN
fires again.
CLOSE ON CRAIN
looking around, alerted suddenly.
THE DOOR BURSTS OPEN
and WOLVES in military garb storm into the room, carrying machine guns.
The old man lies dead on his bed. A window is open, curtain billowing inward.
THE WOLVES
stare in shock and dismay.
WIDE SHOT / HIGH ANGLE – OUTSIDE THE PALACE
Crain’s tiny, running figure disappearing into the night.
WIDE SHOT / INTERIOR AIRPORT
A large bustling airport. The closes sign reads: “International Arrivals.”
CRAIN
walks through the airport, carrying a suitcase. He wears a short-sleeved shirt and slacks, and looks like a non-descript business or pleasure traveller.
A TV MONITOR
as he passes:
NEWS ANCHOR
…unseasonable hot spell worldwide. Climatologists are unsure if global warming is the cause…
INT. RENTAL CAR
Crain drives along a freeway.
RADIO
…a freak current coming up from the Gulf of Mexico, but that still can’t explain the midwest thaw…
A GATED ENTRANCE
Crain’s car pulls up to a guard house. The grounds of a mansion visible through the gate.
THE MANSION
at the end of a long driveway. Crain is getting out of his car. The trees that we can see are sparsely leaved — bare branches, just sprouting again.
A BUTLER
exits the front door of the mansion to greet Crain.
BUTLER
Mr. Crain? He’s waiting for you in the garden. This way please.
A BEAUTIFUL GARDEN
The butler leads Crain to where a man sits at a table under a sun umbrella.
THE MAN AT THE TABLE
is not too old — perhaps in his 60s — but drawn and weak-looking. His legs are covered by a blanket. On the table next to him is a halliburton case and a glass of iced tea. The butler walks away, leaving he and Crain alone.
The rich man looks straight ahead out at his garden.
RICH MAN
It’s beautiful isn’t it?
CRAIN
looks out at the garden.
CRAIN
Very nice.
RICH MAN
Your money is in the case on the table, sir. I don’t have to ask if you were successful.
CRAIN opens the case and looks inside.
He closes it again. We don’t have to seen inside it.
The Rich Man’s eyes haven’t left his flowers.
But Crain has to speak.
CRAIN
You know what will happen don’t you? At this moment, they’re up there…
IN THE PALACE
A group of robed men and women (the ADVISORS) stand around watching impatiently as the LITTLE GIRL reads from a large book under the anxious eyes of the tutor.
CRAINÂ (V.O.)
…rushing the oldest of the princes or princesses through their training.
THE LITTLE GIRL KNEELS
as an officiary places an over-large crown on her head. The advisors look ready to pounce.
CRAIN (V.O.)
They’ll have a coronation in a couple of weeks at most.
EXT. a PALACE TURRET
As the advisors hover, the little girl stands facing the night sky, holding up an ornate STAFF.
CRAIN (V.O.)
The royal advisors will make sure that they hit back — hard.
CLOSE ON CRAIN
As he speaks, wind and snow seems to swirl around him.
CRAOM
Storms, blizzards, freezes like no one’s seen in decades.
Crain gestures at the garden.
CRAIN
All of this will die. You wasted your money.
It’s impossible to tell if the rich man has paid any attention or even heard. He just looks out at his garden. But there’s a slight smile on his lips.
Then he speaks:
RICH MAN
On the contrary.
Now it’s Crain’s turn to listen.
RICH MAN
It was the best money I’ve ever spent. And I think I know something about the value of money. I’ve spent my life amassing as much of it as I possible could. A pursuit that involves ruthlessness, often cruelty. It wins you little trust or affection, never mind love. But power, yes. So for someone like me, it’s humbling to be told that you’re dying. Told. That it’s a matter of months. And that all the money in the world, all the doctors you can hire, can’t stop or even slow the cancer. When that sinks in, you start to wonder what really mattered. What did I love? And I finally realized, that I loved this. This little garden that I planted with my own hands. I realized it, once I’d learned would be dead before spring.
He gestures out at the flowers.
RICH MAN
So to see this, one last time, is worth everything to me. I feel that… I’m seeing my own soul. .
The old man stops talking. He contemplates his garden. He’s done with Crain.
Crain watches him for one more moment, then picks up the case and walks away.
CRAIN CROSSES THE LAWN
toward his car.
He passes a tree.
CLOSE ON THE TREE
A small blossom, a tiny delicate thing, grows out of a low hanging branch. It trembles in the slightest warm breeze.
CRAIN
stops and looks at the flower.
CRAIN
Get ready. Cold winds are coming.
He continues walking toward his car, carrying the case of cash.
THE END
