by Jay Carvajal
PARTMENT #128
Walker locks the door.
RICHARDSON
Where do you think the train is going?
He pulls down a fold out bed from the wall.
WALKER
No idea. It's heading east though and that's all that matters.
He looks around for another bed, but finds none.
WALKER
The best thing to do is try and get some sleep while we can. You can have the bed, I'll take the floor.
Walker grabs a pillow, lays down on the floor and takes off his coat to use as a blanket.
Richardson gets into bed, then watches Walker as he tries to get comfortable.
RICHARDSON
...Look...why don't you just sleep up here with me, there's plenty of room.
WALKER
(pause)
...You sure?
RICHARDSON
Well, if I can't trust an angel, who can I trust?
Walker smiles and gets up.
RICHARDSON
You've got to lose the smelly t-shirt though.
He takes off his bloody and stained t-shirt. She notices the bullet hole scars on his chest and back.
RICHARDSON
...My God.
WALKER
What?...
(looks at chest)
...Oh, these?
(runs hand over scars)
I got these from Hilliard and his goons in Vietnam.
RICHARDSON
The Doctor at the prison said you had bullet hole scars...But, I had no idea how many...
He crawls into bed beside her.
WALKER
Yeah, they did a number on me.
RICHARDSON
...How come your body didn't heal so that there weren't any scars?
WALKER
'Cause I got these when I was still human, before I became what I am now.
RICHARDSON
(long pause)
...Can I ask you a personal question?
WALKER
Sure...I guess.
RICHARDSON
...You always seem hesitant to call yourself an angel...Why?
WALKER
(long pause)
...They let angels into Heaven, Susan. With what I did in my life that could never happen for me. I was given a glimpse of what it was like though...
RICHARDSON
What was it like?
WALKER
(pauses; remembers)
...Beautiful, beyond any words I could ever speak. Just perfect in every single way you could ever hope to imagine.
After a moment, he rolls over on his side facing away from her. There is sadness in his eyes.
WALKER
...Made me sad though...to see it.
RICHARDSON
Why?
WALKER
(long pause)
...Because at that moment I knew Heaven was too good of a place for someone like me; a killer.
She doesn't know what to say. She reaches out and lightly touches the scars on his back.
RICHARDSON
...Michael...for what it's worth, thank you for fighting for us.
WALKER
(changes subject)
...Better get some sleep...I don't know when we'll get another chance.
Both lay there in silence.
EXT. DESERT - EARLY MORNING
A jeep carrying six heavily armed SPECIAL SECURITY AGENTS is parked next to the parachute Walker and Richardson used. SPECIAL SECURITY AGENT #1 pulls out his phone.
INTERCUT INT. UCLA ROOM/DESERT
Tyson's phone RINGS.
TYSON
Tyson here.
S.S. AGENT #1
Sir, this is Omega Team. We've recovered Hoffman's body and located his parachute. There are two sets of footprints leaving the area and heading east.
TYSON
Bloody wonderful.
S.S. AGENT #1
Looking at the map, I do see train tracks about five miles away in the direction the footprints are heading.
TYSON
(sigh)
...Follow the footprints and find out where they lead to.
S.S. AGENT #1
Yes, sir.
Tyson immediately begins dialing a number.
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
Yeah, what's up?
TYSON
Timmerson, I need you to run a check on your computer for me.
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
Sure, go ahead.
TYSON
You still have the coordinates from Hoffman's transmitter in your computer, right?
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
Yeah.
TYSON
There is a train track about five miles east of the transmitter. I need you to find out the numbers and destinations of all the trains that passed through the area last night...It appears that the pain in my ass is still alive.
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
All right, I'm on it.
Tyson hangs up the phone.
TYSON
(to himself)
...Time to tell the bloody prick that Walker is still alive.
HILLIARD (O.S.)
No need too. The bloody prick heard your conversation.
Tyson quickly turns around and finds Hilliard in his face.
TYSON
(startled)
Muh...Mister Hilliard! I didn't mean for it to sound that way!
Hilliard grabs him by the throat and SLAMS him down, back first onto the floor.
HILLIARD
(angry)
Oh no?! Tell me Tyson, how was it supposed to sound?!
Hilliard drags him across the floor by his neck.
HILLIARD
...I'd love to hear another one of your inept excuses, you little cockroach!
He slides Tyson over to a wall, then up it, holding him a foot off the floor.
HILLIARD
I've clawed my way through three hundred and forty two years of crap to finally get to the position I'm at now! I've earned respect and I demand it from a little pissant like you! We clear on that?!
He throws Tyson the length of the room into a desk.
Tyson slowly rises to his feet. He is COUGHING, trying to regain the lost oxygen.
HILLIARD
We've never been this close before! And nothing...nothing, will stop me from winning this war, Tyson! Especially an idiot like you! Have I made myself clear?!
TYSON
...Yes, sir...
HILLIARD
(straightens out suit)
...Send Timmerson and Mercer to find and kill Walker and his sidekick. Tell them to use whatever means necessary.
TYSON
...Yes, sir.
HILLIARD
Then, clean yourself up. I need you to escort the President and I back to Washington. Think you can handle that?
TYSON
Yes, sir.
Hilliard walks out of the room as Tyson massages his throat.
TYSON
(to himself)
...You're still a bloody prick.
Tyson's phone RINGS.
TYSON
Yeah.
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
Only a passenger train headed for Denver went through the area between five and eight this morning.
TYSON
You, Mercer, and a squad take the helicopter and intercept the train. If you find Walker, kill him. Hell, kill everyone on the bloody damn train for all I care.
TIMMERSON (O.S.)
Okay, we're in the air in five minutes.
Tyson hangs up the phone.
INT. SLEEPING COM
