ARCTIC BLUE

Corbett peers out the tiny window, frowning. LeMalle cleans

his carbine while eating beans and bacon. Mitchell hunches

over a table. He's making a scrimshaw -- delicately

engraving, using homemade tools, on a palm-sized piece of

whale bone. He rubs his eyes and looks up at Corbett.

MITCHELL

So much for the walking weather

you predicted.

(CONTINUED)

25 CONTINUED:

CORBETT

Had no choice...

(pointedly, at LeMalle)

...Given the situation.

MITCHELL

I know. Least you didn't shoot

all of them.

LEMALLE

Fuck you, Mitchell. Woulda been

my ass if Ben didn't waste that

prick.

CORBETT

(after a beat)

Mitchell, look, it don't take

three of us to wait for Viking

Bob.

Mitchell glances at LeMalle, then at Corbett.

CORBETT

(continuing)

Go ahead. Take the jeep. I'll

come to Cache with Bob when he

gets here.

MITCHELL

Okay by me. You're the one likes

these hot springs so much.

CORBETT

Leave my traps. We'll tag up,

couple days.

26 EXT. HAUL ROAD - "THE TURTLE" - DAY

The winds have died down. The rain has turned to a light

snow.

A mobile arctic dwelling sits on a rise next to the Haul

Road. It's a double-unit weathertight cocoon of fiberglass

and aluminum, pulled by a diesel rig on oversized tires.

The front module is 12 by 24, the rear 12 by 18.

An extended-cab pickup pulls up and Sam Wilder gets out.

The gravel-and-dirt Haul Road, paralleling the pipeline for

400 miles, is closed to the public. An arriving vehicle,

therefore, is news. The front door of the dwelling opens.

Eric and Anne Marie come outside, delighted to see Wilder.

(CONTINUED)

26 CONTINUED:

WILDER

I was making my rounds, saw your

hangar wide open, plane getting

rained on, so I closed it up.

ERIC

Thanks.

ANNE MARIE

(to Wilder)

I bet you haven't had lunch.

WILDER

(smiles)

Bet you're right. But I didn't

come by to wangle a meal --

ERIC

-- We appreciate the company.

Anne Marie's getting cabin fever

already.

Anne Marie shoots a look at Eric but doesn't disagree --

this is obviously an issue with them. Wilder looks with

amusement at the mobile dwelling.

WILDER

What'd you say they call these

spaceships?

ERIC

Mobile Arctic Dwelling -- MAD.

ANNE MARIE

I call it 'the Turtle,' as in

carrying your home on your back.

ERIC

Best thing is, Meyerling has to

chase around to find us.

ANNE MARIE

(laughs)

The little creep hates it that

Eric actually does what the

company hired him to do.

WILDER

Watch it with Meyerling. Man's

as mean and corrupt as they get.

Cut his mother's throat if it'd

get him a couple votes.

(CONTINUED)

26 CONTINUED: (2)

Looking past Wilder, Eric points out some smoke on the

horizon.

ERIC

Hey, Sam, look over there. Black

and white smoke.

WILDER

Damn. Likely that's an SOS.

Have to pass on that lunch.

ERIC

We'll go with you.

CUT TO:

27 EXT. SPORTSMEN'S CAMP - LATER THAT DAY

Everything seems peaceful enough. The SOS fire (made from

burning green branches for white smoke and rubber for black

smoke) has burnt down to embers.

Eric, Anne Marie and Wilder pull up in Wilder's pickup.

The two Sportsmen sit in the front seat of the Land Rover,

but they don't react to the arrival of the rescuers. In the

back seat, a reflective camping blanket covers a large mass.

Something is amiss. Eric shoots a look of trepidation at

Anne Marie as they get out of the pickup. Wilder pulls the

door of the Land Rover open.

A Sportsman slumps out onto the ground. His eyes are open

and his tongue pokes out between his lips. His skin is

blue-white. (He looks, in fact, much like Eric's nightmare.)

Startled, Eric steps back. Anne Marie gasps with horror.

Wilder unzips the Sportsman's light windbreaker and listens

for a heartbeat. Nothing.

WILDER

Stupid goddamn greenhorns! Froze

to death.

ANNE MARIE

It's not even winter!

WILDER

They got wet in the rain. Core

body temperature dropped, got

drowsy, probably didn't even know

what was happening.

Eric stares at the dead Sportsmen.

(CONTINUED)

27 CONTINUED:

WILDER

(continuing)

Question is why they sat here

when the storm moved in. Check

their stuff while I sniff around.

Wilder tries the ignition. The starter TURNS OVER, but the

engine makes a horrendous GRINDING. He walks to the front

of the vehicle. Noticing the bullet holes in the grille, he

bends down for a closer look.

NEW ANGLE

Eric opens the rear hatchback and digs through the plentiful

supplies. Still in their packages are some matchbox-sized

ELT locating beacons.

ERIC

They had Emergency Locater

Transmitters, but didn't use

them.

(opens one up; shakes his

head)

Maybe because they didn't bring

batteries.

CLOSE

Anne Marie opens the back door of the Land Rover. She pulls

back the camping blanket... and uncovers the third

Sportsman. The torn red flesh on his head and his

bugged-out eyes are a hideous sight.

Anne Marie SCREAMS and stumbles away.

28 EXT. SPORTSMEN'S CAMP - LAND ROVER

Eric runs over to her as she tries to catch her breath.

Wilder looks at the third Sportsman and angrily kicks the

side of the Land Rover.

WILDER

I'm too old for this shit.

ERIC

Any idea who could've done it?

Sourly, Wilder points to a patch of frozen mud under the

vehicle.

WILDER

A certain sonofabitch bastard

-more-

(CONTINUED)

28 CONTINUED:

WILDER (Cont'd)

wearing a damaged mountain boot.

Left a footprint clear as an

autograph.

Wilder examines the Sportsman, finding the bullet hole in

his chest.

WILDER

(continuing)

Even for Ben Corbett, this is

nasty. Man's got balls. He was

sitting in Devil's Cauldron when

I left, calm as can be.

ANNE MARIE

Thank God. You can arrest him.

WILDER

Not necessarily. Corbett's awful

hardbitten these days.

Wilder leans against the Land Rover, feeling tired.

WILDER

(continuing)

His old roaming area's all

private reserve now. Normally,

long as he stays civil in my

jurisdiction, I let him be.

(beat)

Won't be able to take him by my

lonesome, though. Nobody in

town'll lift a finger on this.

Eric looks hard at the dead Sportsmen.

ERIC

(quietly)

I'll go into town with you.

ANNE MARIE

Eric, leave it alone. It's not

your business.

ERIC

(shakes his head)

No way can he get away with this.

I'll be back by tonight.

29 EXT. DEVIL'S CAULDRON - AFTERNOON

The town is quiet.

30 INT. HOT SPRINGS SPA

Corbett soaks in one of the huge wooden tubs with a pudgy

Inupiat hooker, DIXIE.

He looks up as Eric comes into the spa. Eric holds

Corbett's boots, which have been repaired. Eric pauses when

he sees Corbett. There is a flash of recognition between

them.

ERIC

Ben Corbett?

CORBETT

Yep. Afraid you have me at a

disadvantage.

ERIC

Kenai at the general store asked

me to bring these. Didn't expect

we'd already met.

CORBETT

No big deal. We just got off on

the wrong foot. What's your

name?

Eric glances down at Corbett's duffel bag, which sits on the

floor next to Corbett's tub. Corbett's magnum rests on top

of it, well within reach. Corbett notices Eric's interest

in it. He leans back and smiles.

ERIC

Desmond.

CORBETT

New to the country, kid?

ERIC

Six months. Ecological study for

Northland Oil.

CORBETT

Ecology. Folks use that term for

everything but what it means:

who's eating who.

Putting his hand on Dixie's shoulder, Corbett stands and

gets out of the tub. His sinewy body, resembling a

scarecrow made of steel cable, is covered with scars. He

wraps a towel around his waist and crosses to Eric.

(CONTINUED)

30 CONTINUED:

CORBETT

(continuing)

Now, why don't you get around to

saying what you want.

Corbett grabs his boots from Eric and finds himself facing a

revolver, which Eric has been hiding inside one of the

boots.

CORBETT

(continuing; smiling)

You wouldn't shoot anyone...

WILDER (OS)

But I would.

NEW ANGLE

Wilder has come in the back way and stands behind Corbett

with a 12-gauge shotgun. He kicks Corbett's magnum out of

reach.

CORBETT

All this for laying traps on

private land?

WILDER

You left a footprint at the

Sportsmen's camp. Only pretty

sight there, Ben, 'cause the two

men you didn't shoot and mutilate

died of exposure.

Corbett shakes his head but remains implacable.

CORBETT

Christ if I shouldn't know better

than to step in soft earth. I've

seen footprints in the tundra a

hundred years old.

WILDER

(to Eric)

I got it from here. Thanks.

CORBETT

(to Wilder)

Sam, give Dixie here fifty bucks

out of my kit, will you?

31 EXT. HOT SPRINGS SPA

Eric comes outside. Earl Kenai, overdressed for the weather

in gloves, mukluks and a full-length sealskin coat, stands

(CONTINUED)

31 CONTINUED:

shivering by a woodshed near the hot springs, hacksawing a

piece of meat from a frozen moose carcass.

KENAI

Before white men came, my people

lived in sod houses underground

and laid our dead on the tundra.

Now we live above ground and bury

our dead, and we haven't been

warm since.

Wilder comes out of the spa with his shotgun and Corbett's

duffel bag cradled in his arm. Handcuffed, Corbett walks in

front of him.

Kenai looks down to avoid eye contact with Corbett as he

goes by. Corbett stops next to Eric and smiles.

CORBETT

Nice bluff the other day with the

tranquilizer gun out your jeep

window. See you again, maybe.

ERIC

(unintimidated)

Yeah. Maybe so.

32 EXT. DEVIL'S CAULDRON - FOLLOW WILDER

as he leads Corbett along the boardwalk to the other end of

town. They approach a prefab house perched on skids under a

tall antenna tower. Mounted above the shack, a DC wind

charger turbine spins lazily in the faint breeze. From

within the cabin comes an anomalous SOUND -- MTV. Wilder

KNOCKS on the door.

ARTHUR NEFF, a pasty-white, 45-year-old ex-Texan, pulls the

door open. His customary grin fades when he sees Corbett.

33 INT. NEFF'S HOUSE

Wilder pushes Corbett inside past Neff.

WILDER

I need to call Fairbanks.

Neff just stares at Corbett.

WILDER

(continuing)

Neff! Dial it up. State police.

With a "what can I do but oblige?" look to Corbett, Neff

sits in front of the RCA Alascom radio telephone and dials.

(CONTINUED)

33 CONTINUED:

NEFF

(on phone)

Fairbanks Alascom? Patch me

through to the State Police.

After a moment, he hands the receiver to Wilder. Wilder

takes it, keeping one eye and the shotgun on Corbett.

WILDER

(on phone)

This is Sam Wilder, Marshal in

Devil's Cauldron. Had some

killings here. I got a suspect;

be real nice if someone came and

took him off my hands.

STATE POLICEMAN (VO)

(thru phone)

On a good day I couldn't spare a

crosswalk guard. But now, no

way. Folks're batshit with the

weather turning sour. Bring him

in yourself.

WILDER

(on phone)

Next plane's not coming 'til next

Monday.

STATE POLICEMAN (VO)

(thru phone)

Sit your suspect out in the cold.

He'll keep.

WILDER

(on phone)

This man's friends ain't gonna

look favorably on his

incarceration.

STATE POLICEMAN (VO)

(thru phone; Mr. Glib)

So shoot him. Won't have to feed

him that way --