HOT ZONE

(on phone)

We're working on it.

HER POV - THE DAY CARE CENTER

Kids eat mud-pies. PAN TO: The funky rear door to the

monkey house. Empty monkey crates are stacked in back.

JAXX

(on phone)

Any messages? I was expecting a

fax --

PETER (V.O.) (PHONE)

Nada. Guess nobody loves you.

JAXX

(on phone)

Thanks, Pete. I needed that.

HER POV - COL. C.J. PETERS

Heading up the alley her way. He's pissed. Forty.

Thinning hair. Bulging middle in his Army uniform.

Deputy Commander of "RIID." Brilliant virologist with a

grim sense of humor.

JAXX

Where's your happy face, C.J.?

C.J.

(sardonic grin)

Girard's not going to let us in.

He's afraid our army uniforms will

"upset his staff." Mercy --

JAXX

I don't like this, C.J. Day-care

center -- little kids --

C.J.

Just worry about the monkeys.

Girard said Management's already on

him about calling in the Army. Tell

you one thing, whatever's going on

in there, he's scared. They're

bringing the samples here.

JAXX

Oh, free home delivery. Nice.

CUT TO:

THEIR POV - A LIME GREEN VAN

Heads up the alley and stops beside them. TINY WHIPPERT

leans from the cab. Big toothy grin.

TINY

Hi. How you, M'am? Uh, General

M'am -- ?

Jaxx smiles putting the nervous Tiny at ease.

JAXX

Col. Jaxx and this is Col. Peters

Deputy Commander at RIID.

Tiny shyly lumbers out revealing Deer Rifles in a rack

behind his seat. He ambles to the back, nursing coffee

talking a bluestreak.

TINY

We got dead "cynos" ever day. Y'all

think y'all can find out what's

killin'em, huh?

INSIDE THE VAN - DARKNESS

Tiny opens the door. Jaxx and C.J. gawk at 7 plastic

garbage bags. No one wants to be the first to grab one.

C.J.

"Samples?" You brought whole

monkeys? Are they disinfected and

triple bagged?

TINY

You bet. Wouldn't want to get any

on ya --

Jaxx is appalled.

JAXX

These Cynos all came from Room F?

TINY

Nope. Room H.

Jaxx and C.J. trade concerned glances.

JAXX

It's jumped to a new room. Do all

the monkeys breathe the same air?

TINY

Guess so. If a monkey even farts in

one room, you can smell it in

another. No offense M'am --

Jaxx pulls C.J. behind her car. Both unnerved.

C.J.

We've got a possible aerosol

contaminant here -- and we know it's

not Simian Fever.

JAXX

But -- it's lethal. I'm a

Veterinarian. I can't knowingly

transport a dead animal with an

infectious disease across state

lines without a permit. I can lose

my license. No way it's going to

stay quiet we transported them.

You're a Doc. You can plead

ignorance.

She thumps his big gold lapel bars --

JAXX

This -- is why you get to wear those

big eagles, Colonel, Sir --

SHE POINTS TO: HIS BEAT UP HONDA

JAXX

And -- your car's shittier than

mine.

Jaxx bats her green eyes over the top "Miss Scarlett."

C.J. starts to protest. What's the use.

C.J.'S TRUNK - TINY LOADS THE BAGS

The monkey's weight depresses the rear end of his car.

C.J. slams the lid. It won't shut. He and Tiny sit on

it. It closes with a sickening crunch.

THE VAN - TINY CLIMBS IN

Sweating profusely. He squeezes a pain between his eyes.

HIS POV - C.J.'S CAR

Tiny waves. Suddenly, Jaxx and C.J. BLUR in Tiny's

vision. He rubs his eyes. His vision clears.

TINY

Need anymore, just holler. Have a

good one now, ya hear?

C.J. waves morbidly as the VAN WIPES FRAME TO:

JAXX - LOOKING UNDER C.J.'S CAR

JAXX

I better follow you. Make sure you

don't... drip.

CUT TO:

MOVING POV (JAXX'S CAR) - FOLLOWING C.J.'S CAR

C.J. bottoms out on a bump exiting the drive. Sparks fly.

TO JAXX - DRIVING

She whiteknuckles her steering wheel waiting for his trunk

to pop open. It holds.

EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY CARE CENTER IN VIEW

As they pass by, a LITTLE BOY STANDS on top of the slide

pounding his chest like King Kong -- making monkey faces.

Kids run around scared and screeching.

CUT TO:

INT. OFFICE - DAY

Jaxx hurries in and checks her message box. She rifles

them quickly. No Johnson. Damn --

CUT TO:

THE HOT SUITE ENTRANCE - CONTINUING ACTION

Jaxx swipes her security card over the sensor. Pneumatic

gaskets HISS retreating around the submarine style airlock

door. Jaxx hurries in. The door seals shut behind her.

PUSH IN ON THE SIGN:

WARNING: BIOSAFETY LEVEL 4 - MAXIMUM CONTAINMENT

AUTHORIZED PERSONAL ONLY; LIFE THREATENING AGENTS

PRESENT; FILOVIRUSES, ARBOVIRUSES. LASSA FEVER

VIRUS, EBOLA VIRUS, MANTAAN VIRUS, CRIMEAN-CONGO

HEMORRHAGIC FEVER VIRUS, MARBURG VIRUS.

CUT TO:

INT. HOT SUITE - MINUTES LATER

Jaxx enters the staging area pulling on her scrubs and

surgical cap. The RED LIGHT glows over the BL4 airlock

door. She dials a wall phone.

JAXX

(on phone)

Pete -- I'm going hotside. Any last

requests --

INTERCUT: PETER IN BL3 LAB

He's running on fumes.

PETER

Yeah, a monkey TV dinner. We're

striking out here. Big zero.

He mounts a button of cells on a slicer. A diamond knife

peels off a tiny slice. He captures it on a tiny mesh.

INTERCUT: JAXX - BL4 LAB

She opens a cabinet door. Ultraviolet floods. She pulls

out a Blue spacesuit. One piece, soft helmet, thick

rubber gloves and foot molds -- like feet pajamas.

She slides her right hand into a surgical glove. The

Band-aid over her cut hand is intact. She then tapes the

glove to her sleeve with brown sticky tape.

Next she slides her gloved hands down the spacesuit

sleeves into the heavier surgical gloves.

INTERCUT: PETER - ELECTRON MICROSCOPE ROOM

A metal tower eight feet tall. Peter places the cell

slice in the chamber of the big scope.

INTERCUT: JAXX - HELMET POV INSIDE SPACESUIT

Closing her diagonal zipper, then the airtight Ziploc.

She heads into a stainless-steel multiheaded "envirochem"

shower. WE HEAR: BREATHING. Now her HEART BEAT, steady,

rhythmic. Her faceplate fogs up.

INTERCUT: PETER - ELECTRON MICROSCOPE

ON THE VIEWING SCREEN: a cellscape appears. Oxbow rivers

and lakes like an aerial view of a jungle. We've seen

this view before. An ominous sight --

INTERCUT: JAXX - BL4 LAB

Coiled airhoses hang from the ceiling like spaghetti.

Jaxx grabs one -- and hooks it into the short hose

protruding from a "MEPA" filter canister on her thigh.

INSIDE JAXX'S SUIT - POV THROUGH HELMET

A rush of air ROARS like a freight train. Her faceplate

clears. She moves to a "pass through chute," opens it --

She pulls a monkey bag through onto a stainless steel

bleed table.

CUT TO:

INTERCUT: PETER - ELECTRON MICROSCOPE

He scans the cellscape, like flying. Searching. He

abruptly stops. He stares in horror at the screen.

THE VIEWING SCREEN - WALL TO WALL EBOLA

So thick with virus it looks like buckets of rope.

PETER

Oh shit... oh... shit...

Peter holds up a cellscape micrograph next to the viewing

screen. The picture is labeled: EBOLA, ZAIRE; LUNG SLICE

PATIENT 17, 1976. It's loaded with the same virus.

INTERCUT: JAXX - BL4 LAB

Her gloved hand picks up a scalpel from the "sharps" box.

She makes the chest incision O.S. She raises her gloves

back into view -- both are dripping with blood.

She dunks both in the Clorox pan, cleaning them.

INT. BL4 LAB - CHEM SHOWER

Peter enters the suite from the shower in his spacesuit.

He's distraught, carrying micrographs.

PETER

Jaxx -- We got a problem --

No response. He forgot his headset! Sweat runs down his

nose. His faceplate fogs up. He clamps on an airhose.

CLOSER - HOSES

They keep snapping apart. Peter hurries down the corridor

with no air, his breathing labored.

HIS POV - JAXX IN LAB ROOM

Probing the monkey. Her gloves covered in blood. Peter

waves. She doesn't see him. He starts to pound the

glass. A warning sign stops him.

INFECTIOUS AREA - DO NOT STRIKE GLASS

INSIDE JAXX'S SPACESUIT - HER POV

Air ROARS like a freight train. She talks to herself.

JAXX

(to herself)

Subcutaneous hemorrhaging.

Patiechial lung hemorrhages. Rapid

tissue deterioration -- This thing's

a bag of soup --

Suddenly her air stops flowing. What? She turns to check

the hose. SHE FACES PETER: her hose squeezed tightly in

his gloves. He lets go. Air flows.

JAXX

Hey -- what's up?

He shoves the micrographs of Ebola up to her face plate.

She takes them in her bloody gloves --

JAXX

You've got crud in your scope.

Peter indicates "no." He's white as a ghost.

OUTSIDE THE SUITS - PETER

His air hose hangs loose. Jaxx quickly clamps him onto a

spare hose. She gets in his face. He's panicked --

PETER

It's Ebola! I sniffed that flask!

JAXX

Pete! There's a good chance you're

not infected! Don't go dinki-dao on

me now. Antibodies. Let's test

them. Get some "Sister G" serum --

She points to the big refrigerator with all the viruses.

He nods, composing himself.

ON THE BIG FRIDGE

A monolith in the dim light. Pete punches in the computer

combination. The titanium lock chungs. THE DOOR OPENS.

Nitrogen fog spills out.

FOLLOW PETE'S GLOVE: searching vials and containers

marked: LASSA, MARBURG, ANTHRAX, HANTA, RIFT VALLEY,

ENCEPHALITIS, AIDS, EBOLA -- to one marked: "ANTIBODY

SERUM - EBOLA ZAIRE, YAMBUKU - SISTER GENEVIEVE:

SURVIVOR."

TO JAXX AND PETE - AT THE MICROSCOPE

Peter places the slide under the fluorescent microscope

with forceps. Jaxx presses her face plate to the scope --

MICROSCOPIC VIEW - MONKEY TISSUE

Crawling with the Filovirus. Antibodies seize on the

cells lighting the cellscape in a foreboding purple glow.

JAXX

These monkeys are loaded. We've got

to tell C.J. --

Peter freezes pointing at Jaxx's glove.

INSIDE SPACESUIT - HER POV

Jaxx holds her right glove up. There's a huge hole

between her thumb and forefinger. She instantly reacts --

JAMMING HER GLOVE in the Clorox washing it off.

JAXX

Leaker -- oh shit --

INT. CHEM SHOWER - INSIDE JAXX'S SUIT - SECONDS LATER

Envirochem pounds her suit. The system sign glows:

7 MINUTE ENVIROCHEM SHOWER REQUIRED TO

DECONTAMINATE CONTAGIONS - DO NOT ENTER

COLD SIDE WITHOUT DECON CYCLE

JAXX

(humoring herself)

I can't die. I don't have a baby-

sitter. Who'll feed my animals?

Damn, I forgot to order the turkey

for Thanksgiving. I love Gerry --