FACE/OFF

                             KIMBERLY
               The C.I.A. sent this over.  What
               should I do with it?

                             ARCHER
               Send it back and tell them to stop
               wasting the taxpayers' money.
               Anything else, Miss Brewster?

                             KIMBERLY
               No, sir.

     He enters his office.  Kimberly sighs and turns to Wanda.

                             KIMBERLY
               Four years -- and he still calls
               me 'Miss Brewster.'

     INT. ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY

     Sitting at his computer -- Archer scrolls through
     Castor's file.  He grimly contemplates face-after-face of
     Troy's victims -- finally pausing on a photo of his son
     Matthew.

     Burying his feeling, he types "CASE CLOSED" over
     Castor's image.  Archer starts to press "enter" when Tito
     comes in.

                             ARCHER
               How's Loomis?

                             TITO
               He needs some surgery, but he's
               going to be okay.  That's the good
               news...

                             ARCHER
               Go on.

                             TITO
               ... Brodie and Miller from Special
               Ops need to see you.

                             ARCHER
               I don't have time for those cloak
               and dagger guys.

     Big NED BRODIE and athletic female HOLLIS MILLER stroll
     in.

                             BRODIE
               You better make time, Jon.
                      (hefts a disc)
               We found this in the jet wreckage
               -- among Pollux Troy's effects...

     Archer accedes as Miller pops in the disk.  The computer
     screen displays a CAD schematic of the bomb.  Archer
     studies it carefully -- unease growing.

                             ARCHER
               Porcelain casing... Thermal
               cloak... Undetectable payload.

                             MILLER
               Powerful enough to flatten ten
               city blocks.

                             ARCHER
               'Worse than anything God ever
               dumped on the Pharaohs.'
                      (to Tito)
               Get Pollux Troy.  Now.

                                                DISSOLVE TO:

     INTERROGATION FOOTAGE

     Wired to a complex machine -- Pollux seems to have his
     frustrated interrogators on the run.

     INT. ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY

     Archer, Lazarro, Tito, Brodie, Miller and other FBI
     officials watch the monitor.  Pollux remains implacable

                             POLLUX (V.O.)
                      (on screen)
               That bomb was just a crossword
               puzzle to me... a mental exercise.
               I never built it...

     Lazarro shuts down the monitor... turns to Archer.

                             ARCHER
               He's lying.

                             LAZARRO
               He's hooked up to a full-spectrum
               polygraph.

                             ARCHER
               Pollux is a manipulative
               psychopath.  He can control his
               heartbeat, his sweat glands, his
               blood pressure...

                             LAZARRO
               Jon, I trust your instincts, I
               always have.  But D.C. wants more
               evidence.  And frankly, so do I.

                             ARCHER
               You'll get all the evidence you
               need when ten thousand people die.

                             LAZARRO
               We'll get a team right on it.  But
               we can't evacuate the city on what
               amounts to a hunch.

     Archer looks at the gathered brass.  He knows it's
     hopeless.

                             ARCHER
               That bomb has been built, it's out
               there somewhere and it's going to
               detonate...

     EXT. FBI BUILDING - INTELLIGENCE MEMORIAL - DAY

     Words etched in the granite wall read:

                     IN HONOR OF THOSE MEMBERS
               OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
                     WHO SACRIFICED THEIR LIVES
                        IN THE LINE OF DUTY

     Archer watches as a workman engraves the last of the
     three new stars among so many others -- each one honoring
     the dead.

                             BRODIE
               Didn't Castor give any clue where
               the bomb might be?

                             ARCHER
               Only one person knows -- his
               brother Pollux.  And he'll keep
               his mouth shut until it blows.

                             BRODIE
               We could plant an agent in his
               cell -- get him to spill the
               location.

                             ARCHER
               Pollux is way too paranoid.  The
               only person he'd talk to about
               that bomb is Castor himself.  And
               dead men can't talk.

     Brodie and Miller exchange a knowing look.

                             BRODIE
               There might be a way around
               that...

     FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S BODY

     Tubes and hoses are plugged into every orifice.

     INT. ICU ROOM - DAY

     Archer stares at the body... he can't believe it.

                             ARCHER
               Why are you keeping him alive?
                      (gets no answer)
               As long as he's breathing, he's
               dangerous.

                             MILLER
               Relax, he's a turnip.

     Miller grinds out her cigarette on Castor's leg.  Of
     course, Castor just lies there like a vegetable.

                             BRODIE
               We can arrange for you to enter
               Erewhon Prison -- as Castor Troy.

                             ARCHER
               What are you talking about?

     Archer turns as DR. MALCOLM HOAG (50s) enters the room.

                             HOAG
               I think I'd better answer that
               question.
                      (offers hand)
               Malcolm Hoag.  I run the
               Physiological Camouflage Unit for
               Special Ops.

                             ARCHER
               I know who you are.

                             MILLER
               But you don't know what he can do.
               Physical augmentation; enhancement
               surgery...

                             BRODIE
               ... He can disguise a compromised
               agent or alter the likeness --
               even the voice -- of a government
               witness.

                             HOAG
               Let me show you how it's done.
                      (leading him out)
               I think you'll recognize our
               patient...

     INT. HOAG'S SURGICAL BAY - DAY

     Loomis lies still as a surgeon carefully scrapes away
     charred flesh around his burned ear.  The doctor turns to
     a --

     STEREO-LITHOGRAPHIC MACHINE

     Laser-beams attack an organic soup with incredible
     precision.  The light forces a chemical reaction -- and
     out of the soup -- an ear begins to form.  It rises from
     the liquid, now fully-formed.  The surgeon takes the ear
     and fits it in place on Loomis's head.  He starts
     suturing.

     OBSERVATION BOOTH - ABOVE

     Archer, Hoag, Brodie and Miller watch the operation --
     video-enhanced by the two huge screens on the far walls.

                             HOAG
               With our new generation of anti-
               inflammatories, healing is
               accelerated from weeks to days.
               By his next paycheck, he won't
               even remember which ear he lost.
                      (a beat)
               Your situation, however, would be
               a little less permanent...

                             BRODIE
               -- and a lot more classified.

     Hoag holds up a face-sized organic shell made up of
     yellow cartilage pieces and tendons, etc.  Archer pulls
     it over his face -- like a gauze mask.  A "tendon" falls
     off.

                             ARCHER
               This'll fool Pollux.

                             HOAG
               That is a state-of-the-art morpho-
               genetic template.  The inside can
               be built to match the exact shape
               of your skull; the outside --
               exactly like Castor's.  Then we
               fit his face right on top --

                             MILLER
               -- and you become him.

                             ARCHER
               You're talking about removing the
               guy's face?

                             BRODIE
               Borrowing, Jon.  The procedure's
               completely reversible.

                             MILLER
               One way or the other -- the
               mission ends on the eighteenth.

     Archer turns the shell over and over and over in his
     hands.

                             BRODIE
               You know Castor better than
               anyone.  You've lived and breathed
               him for years -- hell, you even
               look a little like him.

     Archer shoves the template back at Hoag.

                             ARCHER
               Find yourself another lab-rat.

                             MILLER
               If you don't do this -- Castor
               will beat us again.  He'll beat
               you again...

     Archer pushes his way past them -- and marches out.

                             HOAG
               I don't think that went very well.

                             BRODIE
               Trust us, Doc...

                             MILLER
               ... he'll jerk around.  Then he'll
               be back.

     INT. INTERROGATION BOOTHS - DAY

     Archer enters... sizes up DIETRICH HASSLER.  His stylish
     garb doesn't completely hide his criminal roots.  Archer
     sits down calmly.  He looks at his watch.

                             ARCHER
               I'm in a hurry, Dietrich.  So
               you've only got ten seconds to go
               through your usual litany of lies,
               empty threats, and moronic
               denials.  Then I'm coming over
               there --

                             DIETRICH
               If you're in such a fucking hurry
               -- why are you wasting your time
               with me?  I'm just an art dealer.

                             ARCHER
               You're a dealer, all right:
               technical secrets, munitions...
               explosives.

                             DIETRICH
               You've never proven any of that.
               And when my bitchy, never-been-
               laid femi-nazi lawyer gets here,
               she's going to...

                             ARCHER
               Time's up.

     Archer topples the wooden table and tears a leg from the
     top.  Brandishing it -- he stalks the startled thug.

     HALLWAY JUST OUTSIDE - CONTINUOUS ACTION

     Lazarro blanches as an obsessed Archer repeatedly slams
     the table leg against the wall -- above Dietrich's head.

                             LAZARRO
               The only ticking bomb I see is
               inside his head.  He's getting
               worse, Tito.

                             TITO
               Don't worry, sir.  It's all an
               act...

     But as Lazarro leaves -- we see Tito's worried, too.

     BACK INSIDE BOOTH

     Archer has a terrified Dietrich backed into the corner.

                             DIETRICH
               ... Okay!  Castor called me but I
               blew him off... I swear I never
               saw him.  And I don't know
               anything about any bomb!

     INT. CORRIDOR - OUTSIDE INTERROGATION BOOTHS - SAME TIME

     Archer emerges... eyes blazing.

                             ARCHER
               Let him go, but I want him
               watched... Who's next?

                             TITO
               Just Dietrich's sister...

     In another booth, a careworn but striking woman sits with
     a little boy on her lap.  She gently helps him Crayola a
     book.  This is SASHA HASSLER (30) and her son ADAM (5).

     INT. INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY

     Archer hovers over Sasha -- her maternal warmth replaced
     by an icy hatred.  Tito and the child are gone.

                             ARCHER
               When was the last time you saw
               Castor Troy?

                             SASHA
               Who cares?  He's dead.

                             ARCHER
               Answer the question.

                             SASHA
               Look, I'm clean.  I teach kids
               now --