Healing Bin Laden

INT. MIAMI—NIGHT—INTERIOR OF A CATHOLIC CHURCH

Two priests stand on the platform before an altar. SHERYL and DAVID are seated on the first row of pews.

FATHER CARL

If anyone desires prayer and the laying on of hands. Please form a line before the altar.

(He turns to FATHER JOHN.)

There’s too many. There’s no way you can get to them all.

FATHER JOHN

I must. None shall be turned away.

FATHER CARL

But you can’t … I have it! You will pray for them all, heal them all—at once.

(he stares hard at Father John)

Can you? Can you do it?

FATHER JOHN

I cannot. But God can.

FATHER CARL
(to the people, apologetically)

I’m sorry, but there are too many—

DAVID
(in line, hugging Sheryl)

No. He must. My wife—she is dying. Stomach cancer. She is dying—there is no hope. He must. Please! He must.

Other people in line protest.

FATHER CARL

No. You misunderstand me. Father John will pray and touch you all. But there are too many for him to do it one at a time. You must all come back into the sanctuary. Everyone, come back in.

Father Carl moves down the line, asking everyone to return.
The church is packed, standing room only. The two priests stand on the platform.

FATHER CARL

Please. If any are not seeking prayer—or a touch—please, wait in the foyer. Anyone sick and suffering needs to be inside the sanctuary. Again—please—only the sick and suffering inside. All others—loved ones, friends—outside in the foyer. We won’t turn anyone away.

SHERYL

David, you must wait outside. Make room for someone else who is sick.

DAVID
(reluctantly)

Yes. You are right. But I am loath to leave you.

SHERYL

I know, my love. But you must.

DAVID
(kisses her, rises)

I will pray with him as he prays for you.

DAVID moves outside with others into the foyer. He stands looking at the doors into the sanctuary (which have windows).

FATHER CARL

Father …

FATHER JOHN

Oh, Mad Lover. It is your pleasure that your creatures be well, and healthy. It is not your will that any suffer.

(His hands rise higher, he looks up.)

I desire your desires, Oh, Mad Lover—that is my faith.

(whispers)

Heal them! Anah, Jehovah Elohim. Anah.

A blinding light emanates from FATHER JOHN’S hands.

In the foyer, DAVID is almost blinded by light emanating from the windows, the cracks around the doors. DAVID and the others in the foyer fall to their knees.

INT. MILITARY HOSPITAL—KANDAHAR, AFGHANISTAN

Men stand in a hospital room: OMAR, and ARI, both dressed as mullahs. They stand beside a hospital bed. On the bed, hooked up to medical machines, lies Osama bin Laden.

OMAR

Usi, how are you feeling?

OSAMA
(viciously)

How I feel is of no consequence. All that matters is bringing the Great Satan to its knees. Only in this way can we make up for five hundred years of disregard, for five centuries of neglect.

OMAR

Usi, Usi … relax. The Great Satan has been wounded. But you must get well. Without you … we will fail.

(looks at Ari)

ARI

Omar is right, great one. We will wither, becoming dry and brittle without your guidance.

OSAMA

Whether I live or die does not matter. The Great Satan must pay for leaving us behind.

(stares at Omar)

Someone must be found—someone—if I die—who will bring the Beast to its knees, and then strike a death blow. Someone who can gather all of Islam in one, great Jihad!

(pauses)

Find me such a man!

OMAR

Who, great one? Who could replace you? You must get well. All of Islam prays for you. Allah will answer.

OSAMA

Yes, Allah will answer. But not the prayers of cowards. It is time to cleanse the faithful.

(collapses back on his bed)

Find me someone to slay the Beast.

OMAR
(shaking his head)

Such a man—you are he, great one. You must heal and grow strong.

ARI

Come, we must let him rest.

OSAMA
(whispers weakly)

Wait a moment. If I die—let the cleansing begin here.

OMAR

Yes, great one.

OSAMA

My order is this: let any who doubt, any who waver in their fervor—let them die. Then unleash the Jihad on the Beast.

OMAR

Any … who doubt, great one?

OSAMA
(nods)

They are cowards. Therefore, let them serve a purpose … as an example.

OMAR

As you command, great one. So shall it be written.

INT. RESTAURANT—NIGHT

DAVID and SHERYL are seated in a booth.

SHERYL

You should have seen his face, David. It was aglow. Then a bolt of light shot from him, filling the room.

(She takes another bite of pie)

God touched me.

DAVID

I know! I know! A miracle—I’ve heard of them—but this …

DAVID gestures to the waiter.

DAVID
(laughing ecstatically)

More pie. More, more, more.

SHERYL
(smiling, laughing)

Yes, yes. More! I am well. I can eat. Oh God …

(she breaks down weeping)

DAVID takes her hand in his.

INT. LONDON BUILDING—NIGHT AL-QAEDA MAJLIS AL-SHURA (high council meeting)

Three bearded men sit in a lavish office. RASHAD has a copy of The National Enquirer and The Globe in front of him.

OMAR

He is dying. The doctors say nothing is to be done.

(He looks around the desk at each person)

We must select his successor. And we must do it now.

RASHAD sits reading The Enquirer and The Globe.

ARI

No! No one can take his place. If he dies, we lose everything we have gained.

OMAR
(angrily)

He is dying! Nothing can be done. If we don’t elect a new leader, then we will lose everything. Without a leader, the holy jihad will become a holy disaster. It must be done now. If we wait until after he dies, there will be only bloodshed among the faithful—as they vie for power.

ARI

No! I cannot sanction this. Who? Who will take his place? You? Me?

(laughs bitterly)

He must not die!

OMAR
(angrily)

Can you not understand? He is dying—may be dead already. I don’t know. We cannot just sit here saying, ‘He must not die!’ Because he is as good as dead right now!

ARI

Again I say, No! He—

RASHAD
(clears his voice)

Perhaps there is another way.

ARI and OMAR turn on him angrily.

OMAR

What? Are you not listening? What other way? Do you carry miracles in your pocket?

(laughs bitterly)

RASHAD

Yes.

OMAR

Yes what? We are not miracle workers! We are soldiers of the great jihad—dedicated to the fall of the Great Satan, the United States of America.

(disgustedly)

We are not miracle workers!

RASHAD
(taps his newspaper)

No. We are not. But this man is.

RASHAD holds the newspaper up. The headline says: Priest Heals Hundreds—Catholic Church Says ‘Authentic!’

ARI

What are you suggesting? That we ask the Catholic Church to heal him? Are you mad? Those people are infidels!

RASHAD

Perhaps, perhaps. But this man works miracles. And a miracle is what we need. You have just said so yourselves: without a miracle—we are lost.

ARI

You are mad! This cannot save us—

OMAR

He is right! This is insanity. Even if it were true—that this man performs miracles. Why would he heal bin Laden? What are we to do? Simply walk in and say, Please, would you mind healing him?

(laughs uproariously)

RASHAD

Listen: If Mohammed cannot come to the mountain, perhaps the mountain will come to Mohammed.

ARI

What? What are you saying?

RASHAD
(quietly)

I am saying this: that we bring this man, this priest, this miracle worker—to bin Laden.

OMAR

I don’t understand.

RAHSAD
(tapping his newspaper)

According to this, this man—and I quote—“turns no one away.”

(leans back in his chair)

We will perform our own little miracle.

OMAR

How?

RASHAD

We will kidnap the miracle worker—bring him to bin Laden—have him heal him.

ARI

This man is an infidel! Even if he can—he will refuse. Then what?

RASHAD

Allah is the one true God. His prophet is Mohammed. Yet no man instructs Allah on what He might do. Allah works in many guises.

(he taps the newspaper)

Even through infidels.

OMAR

What if he refuses?

RASHAD

That’s the beauty of it. He cannot. He has taken a vow before his Catholic God. He will do it—because he must.

The group sits pondering.

RASHAD

There is no other option. You all know it.

The other men finally give tight, grim nods.

OMAR

Where is this man? Where do we find him?

RASHAD

Miami—in the state of Florida.

OMAR

And his name?

RASHAD

John Atrode. Father John Atrode.

INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS—VIRGINIA

DCI LANGE

Colonel, I’m Director Lange. We asked you here for a specific reason. We have a delicate operation that requires special skill—a very delicate situation. As you know, Colonel, we’ve been trying to locate Bin Laden for some time now. Unsuccessfully, I might add. However, that has changed in the last eight hours.

DCI LANGE

We are now 98% sure—based on our latest intel—that Bin Laden is located just outside Kandahar—in a military hospital. We are also certain that he will not be moving anytime soon. Mr. Bin Laden is suffering from kidney failure. We suspect he is tied to a dialysis machine and cannot be moved without grave risk.

COLONEL CROOZE

I don’t think I understand.

DCI LANGE

Colonel, the President just this afternoon authorized a preemptive—operation, for lack of a better term, to make sure that Bin Laden enters paradise as soon as possible. And in a very final way.

COLONEL CROOZE

This is the delicate part right?

DCI LANGE

Correct Colonel, we want you to lead a very select group of covert operatives into Southern Afghanistan—and terminate Bin Laden. We want you to kill the bastard.

COLONEL CROOZE

Yes sir. What kind of resistance can we expect?

DCI LANGE

Heavy. As I indicated, it is a military hospital. As far as we know there are no other patients in the hospital. There are however, approximately two hundred Al-Qaeda troops guarding the facility. A very experienced and very effective force.

COLONEL CROOZE

And the covert group?

DCI LANGE

Twenty-five, counting yourself. Twelve SEALS and twelve from DELTA Force.

COLONEL CROOZE

Any other support? Air or ground?

DCI LANGE

None. This has to be clean, quick and quiet. Even in this instance, the political ramifications of assassination are enormous. You will be inserted by helicopter as close to the facility as possible. After that—well, you’re on your own.

COLONEL CROOZE

And extraction after the mission?

DCI LANGE

By helicopter. You’ll be provided complete mission parameters when you arrive at Ft. Bliss, which is where your strike force is as we speak. It goes without saying that this meeting never took place. No hint of this mission can be leaked. Is that clear?

COLONEL CROOZE

Yes sir.

DCI LANGE

If there’s nothing else … then Colonel, you’d best be on your way. I’m not a religious man, but if anyone knows any prayers, now’s the time to say them. We need a miracle, is what we need. A bona fide, supernatural, biblical miracle. Like Moses at the Red Sea.

INT. OF THE LONDON BUILDING—SAME NIGHT

OMAR

We are agreed, then? The priest will be kidnapped, then transported to Kandahar?

(turns to ARI)

We have sufficient funds?

ARI

Thanks to our Arab friends, we are very solvent.

OMAR

Good. Now then—who will effect the kidnapping? One of our own people or a private contractor?

RASHAD

No contractors. Too much is at stake. We need one of our own for this.

(looks at the blonde woman across from him)

Someone of unique talents, whose capabilities are unique. I propose we allow Major Barankova to handle it.

OMAR

A woman?

RASHAD

Yes. Not only are her talents—shall we say, infamous—but her gender works to good effect: it makes her less suspicious.

OMAR

I will not argue her skills … but (shakes his head, looks around the room)

ARI

I like it.

OMAR

Why?

ARI

It is bold, without precedent … as is the entire idea. If we are going to act recklessly, then let us do it. Do not shackle the concept with sensibility.

OMAR
(pondering, eyes closed)

Okay. Ari speaks truth.

The five men look at each other—nod.

OMAR

The Major will proceed, then. Make your plans, tell Ari what you require. He will provide whatever you need.

(taps the desk significantly)

We have a man in Florida; he will facilitate the matter.

(looking at the Major)

Know this: time is of the essence. He is dying as we speak. Also—failure is not an option.

(leaning back in his chair)

One final thing, though. The kidnapping must not be traced to Al-Qaeda. Make it appear as though (he smiles)—as though some of our African brothers are responsible.

NATALIA

No problem.

OMAR

Then make it so.

ARI
(nodding agreement)

Let it be written.

INT. LONDON—NIGHT

Inside the back seat of a limo.

ARI
(dials cell phone)

VOICE ON OTHER END (ROBERT)

Yes.

ARI

Robert?

ROBERT

Ahhh, Ari. How goes it, my friend?

ARI

Not good. Have you heard of a priest—a Roman Catholic papist pig—named Father John Atrode? Who performs miracles?

ROBERT

Indeed! His picture abides on the front pages of the newspapers, People Magazine, CNN, FOX, the three sisters—he is everywhere. Why?

ARI

The AL SHURA wants to use him to save bin Laden.

ROBERT

What? How?

ARI

They are afraid. So that idiot, Rashad, has concocted an insane plan to kidnap this priest and have him heal bin Laden.

ROBERT
(laughing)

No wonder you are calling me, my friend. Tell of this plan Rashad has …

ARI

According to Rashad, this … this priest has a supernatural gift of healing. Rashad proposes that he will heal bin Laden.

(pauses)

You say you have heard of this priest?

ROBERT

Yes.

ARI

Do you believe it? That he has the power to heal?

ROBERT

The media asserts that he is real—so he must be, right? Ha, ha, ha.

ARI

So you don’t believe it?

ROBERT

My friend, I believe in money, guns, and business.

ARI
(hesitates)

I don’t know … I have a funny feeling about this priest.

ROBERT

You are letting your imagination carry you away. Funny feelings are easily remedied—it’s called Pepto Bismol. I think you need some, my friend.

ARI

Perhaps you are right. Major Barankova is on her way to Miami to kidnap this priest. She will contact you regarding transportation to Somalia. From there, they will fly to Afghanistan. They must never get there. If they do, our goal will elude us.

ROBERT

I have no such grand ambitions, my friend. The goal is yours. Not mine.

(Pause)

They will use a woman?

ARI

I told you—they are insane!

ROBERT

What is it you wish me to do? Kill the priest?

ARI

Yes. But not until the moment is ripe.

ROBERT

When is the moment of fruition?

ARI

In Somalia. Make it look as if those black bastards killed him. One of the warlords, whoever, I don’t care. As long as it cannot be blamed on us.

ROBERT

That is easily accomplished. Just the priest?

ARI
(pauses)

No, the woman, too.

ROBERT

Okay.

ARI

You are familiar with this woman, are you not?

ROBERT

Yes. I have heard of her.

ARI

What have you heard?

ROBERT

She is an ironclad bitch who would eat her own children.

ARI

She is a bitch, but a capable one.

(pauses)

So be careful. Do you require any help?

ROBERT

For a priest and a woman? Ha, ha, ha. Allah has yet to make a woman I cannot handle, my friend.

ARI

Okay. But know this: they must not leave Africa. The priest must die. Is that clear?

ROBERT

Clear as crystal. Don’t worry, my friend—consider it done.

ARI

Okay. Keep me updated.

ROBERT

There is one other thing, my friend.

ARI

And that would be?

ROBERT

My fee. As you know, I don’t work for free.

ARI
(sighing heavily)

How much?

ROBERT

Five million—in US dollars.

ARI

For one priest and one woman?

ROBERT

Oh yes, I forgot about the woman. In that case, five million and one dollars. I will only charge you a dollar for the woman. Ha, ha, ha.

ARI

That’s outrageous!

ROBERT

Unlike you my friend, I live from paycheck to paycheck.

ARI

Your paychecks are extreme.

ROBERT

Yes, they are. But they are paychecks nonetheless. When you are the new leader of Al-Qaeda you will be powerful and wealthy. I will still be foraging, dependent upon the alms of others.

ARI
(sighing)

Okay. You will receive your money.

ROBERT

Always a pleasure doing business with you, my dear friend.

ARI
(hangs up his cell phone, pours himself a tumbler of whiskey, whispers)

Let it be written.

INT. MILITARY BUILDING—FT. BLISS—DAY

Twenty four men seated in a room. All are in military uniforms. Colonel Crooze enters. Everyone stands at attention, salutes.

CROOZE

As you were. My name is Colonel Martin Crooze. Each one of you has volunteered for this mission. You were informed that this mission is—to quote the warning on your cigarettes—extremely hazardous to your health. And I’m here to tell you that is a correct and true statement.

Now. Tomorrow morning at 0600 hours we will be transported to Berlin. From Berlin we will move on to a city in Croatia—Split. We will then be inserted into southern Afghanistan via chopper.

Our mission is engage and destroy. The target is— (turns to a wallscreen upon which appears the picture of Osama bin Laden)—Osama bin Laden, who is currently residing in a military hospital outside the city of Kandahar.

Once the target is terminated, we will proceed north two clicks, where helicopters will extract us.

Any questions?

SGT. BOCK

How many Tangos guarding the target?

CROOZE

According to intel—200 Tangos. All of whom are battle-tested and highly trained.

SGT. BOCK

That means 8 to 1 odds, if I can still count, sir.

(he looks around)

I’d say that’s just about fair.

Everyone laughs.

SGT. BOCK

What contingency plans do we have, sir?

CROOZE

None, Sgt. Since failure is not an option—there are no contingency plans.

(looks around the room)

No back up, no support—just us. Anyone have a problem with that?

SGT. BOCK

What type of ordinance are we carrying sir?

CROOZE

Each man here is a specialist, Sergeant. Therefore each man will equip himself at comfort level. But know this: this is a run with what you brung operation. So you’d best feel very satisfied with whatever you bring.

Any questions?

Okay. Dismissed.

INT. STARBUCKS

Chloe and Natalia at a table sipping Frappuccino. A young man in a business suit approaches.

ROBERT

Ladies! A miracle—that’s what it is!

NATALIA

What’s a miracle?

ROBERT

To see not one but two beautiful women dressed beautifully. That—in today’s world— a world of jeans and tennis shoes—is a miracle.

NATALIA

Thank you. Won’t you please join us?

Robert sits.

ROBERT

I’m Robert—Robert Sikes. Rhymes with likes.

NATALIA

I am Natalia and this is Chloe. Perhaps you could advise us?

ROBERT

I am at your command. Consider me your own private beast of burden.

NATALIA

Upon a whim, we have decided to travel to Africa. But dear us, we don’t know where we want to go in Africa. Can you help us?

ROBERT

I have heard—that Somalia is a land of opportunity. And what better place for two miracles such as yourselves—than a land of unsurpassed beauty.

CHLOE

Of course! It shall be as you say. But how would we get there? Should we consult a travel agent?

ROBERT

What luck! What fortuitous chance has brought me—to you! I … am a travel agent. Of vast contacts—of unbelievable knowledge.

(leers)

Indeed, I have many, many remarkable talents.

NATALIA
(smiling)

Another miracle. Tell me, dear Robert Sikes, how should we get there?

ROBERT

There is a private jet—out of South Beach—leaving this very evening for Africa. Better yet—I know for a fact its destination is Somalia. Ha ha. Miracles abound, do they not?

CHLOE

Dear Robert, do you think you could get us seats on this private jet?

ROBERT

Consider it done. Just this morning—it so happens—I was told it leaves at midnight tonight. I will make call—and everything will be taken care of.

NATALIA

As you said Robert—miracles abound—if only one looks for them. Could you write down the address of the airport for us?

ROBERT

Better than that! It just so happens—another miracle—I have directions with me.

(produces a paper from his pocket)

NATALIA
(taking the paper)

Miracles are everywhere these days—

CHLOE

You just have to look.

INT: LARGE MILITARY WAREHOUSE—BERLIN—NIGHT

Colonel Crooze and his soldiers grimly pick out weapons.

COLONEL CROOZE

What’s up Sarge? Can’t find anything to your liking?

BOCK

I need …I need something big sir. Something that feels right for bugs.

(finds the rifle he wants)

Just the ticket! Just what the doctor ordered.

COLONEL CROOZE

What did you say? Bugs?

BOCK

Sir? Oh yeah, bugs. Yes sir, I said bugs. You know, to go bug hunting, sir. Bugs, sir. You know, ragheads. Some call ‘em tootsie rolls.

COLONEL CROOZE

Bugs, huh? Where you from Bock?

BOCK

Richardson, Texas, sir.

COLONEL CROOZE

I’m not familiar with Texas. Where’s Richardson?

BOCK

Dallas area, sir.

COLONEL CROOZE

Well, Sergeant … bugs are not exactly a politically correct term for Muslims.

BOCK

Yes sir. However, sir, I am a shooter in Delta Force, sir. I am not a politician. Therefore I do not trouble myself with correctness, sir.

COLONEL CROOZE

I see your point, sergeant. You call ‘em whatever you want …but my old Grandma used to say that some things are true, they just don’t need to be said.

BOCK

Why’s that, sir? I mean, if it’s true, why not just say it?

COLONEL CROOZE

I’m not really sure, Sergeant. I suspect it has to do with sensitivity—sensitivity to other peoples’ feelings.

BOCK

Yes sir. I am always sensitive, sir.

COLONEL CROOZE

How’s that?

BOCK

Whenever I kill bugs, sir. I am sensitive to their feelings. I try to take ‘em out with a head shot—real quick like—so’s their feelings won’t get hurt and all.

COLONEL CROOZE

That’s very commendable Sergeant.

INT. BMW—NIGHT

CHLOE

Shit! We can’t just waltz in, grab him and dance out—not with television cameras recording our every step.

NATALIA

No problem. Is there a back entrance?

CHLOE

Yes. An alley just here. Go up 4th Street, turn right. A few hundred yards down you’ll see the alley.

NATALIA

Okay. Remember, no witnesses. Quick and clean. And whatever happens—don’t damage the priest. We need him alive and well.