The World Is Not Enough

The World Is Not Enough  

       GUN BARREL LOGO OPENS ON

       GENEVA SWITZERLAND, an unnaturally clean city that melds old

       Europe with new money of both dubious and legitimate source.

       INT. HALLWAY OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

       An engraved brass plaque announcing the name of the “private

       banking institute” within.

       INT. PENTHOUSE BANK OFFICE - GENEVA - DAY

       JAMES BOND, dressed impeccably as ever, is being FRISKED by

       three THUGS in Armani suits.  They remove A GUN from inside

       his jacket, a well-concealed knife, a metal case, laying them

       on the desk that separates Bond and...

       LACHAISE...an extremely well-groomed gentleman. Behind him,

       three floor-to-ceiling windows lead out to a rooftop garden.

                           LACHAISE

                 Not the usual Swiss procedure, Mr. Bond,

                 but you understand, a man in my

                 position..

                           BOND

                 Which is neutral, no doubt.

       Lachaise takes the joke a little tight-lipped.  Gestures for

       Bond to sit.

       A GIRL ENTERS, a gorgeous Swiss bombshell in a pin-striped

       suit.  She pushes a cart. On it are a BRIEFCASE and a box of

       EXPENSIVE CIGARS, which she offers to Lachaise and Bond.

                           LACHAISE

                 It wasn’t easy, but I retrieved the

                 money.  No doubt Sir Robert will be

                 pleased to see it again.

       The efficient Cigar Girl brings the briefcase to Bond,

       setting it in his lap and opening it up...inside is a good

       deal of CASH in pound sterling.

                           LACHAISE

                 In the current exchange rate, minus the

                 fees, of course, and certain

                 unforeseeable expenses. Here is the

                 receipt...

       The CIGAR GIRL offers Bond a RECEIPT...

                           CIGAR GIRL

                 Would you like to check my figures?

                           BOND

                 Perhaps later.

       She steps back. Bond reaches for the metal case on the

       desk...the THUGS TENSE...

                           BOND

                 My glasses.

       Lachaise nods.  Bond can have his glasses.

       He puts them on, gives a cursory look at the receipt...an odd

       number in pound sterling, calculated down to the penny:

       3,030,303.03.

                           LACHAISE

                 It’s all there.

       Bond folds the receipt, slips it into his WALLET...then, he

       removes the glasses, slowly, deliberately, eyeing Lachaise.

                           BOND

                 I didn’t come for the money. The report

                 you sold him was stolen from an MI-6

                 agent, who was killed for it.

       He takes a photo from his jacket and lays it on the desk.

                           LACHAISE

                 I did not get the report from an MI-6

                 agent.

                           BOND

                 Who did you get it from?

                           LACHAISE

                 I am just a middle man. I am doing the

                 honourable thing and returning the money

                 to its rightful owner...

                           BOND

                 And we know how difficult that can be for

                 the Swiss.

                           LACHAISE

                     (controlled fury)

                 Your last chance. Take the money.

                           BOND

                 Your last chance. Give me the name.

                           LACHAISE

                 Stripped of all your weaponry, you still

                 threaten me?

       He nods.  An Armani thug steps up and takes out a gun...

                           BOND

                 Perhaps you failed to take into account

                 my...hidden assets.

       Bond’s mouth edges into a smile.  A flicker of doubt on

       Lachaise’s face -- as Bond’s finger finds a protrusion on the

       tiny arm of his glasses and...

       KABOOM!  The pistol on the table FLASHES...blinding those

       around, they cover their eyes, stagger back...it is a brief

       effect, just enough to disorient the thugs and give Bond his

       opening...

       He KARATE-CHOPS HENCHMAN #1 unconscious, taking his gun.

       Kicks HENCHMEN #2 in the face and throws #3 OUT THE WINDOW

       just as they’re getting their bearings.  Now he nestles the

       barrel of his borrowed hand gun into the hollow of Lachaise’s

       cheek.

                           BOND

                 The name?

                           LACHAISE

                 I can’t tell you...

                     (Bond cocks the gun)

                 Alright, alright! But you must protect

                 me!

       And he freezes.  The handle of a THROWING KNIFE is sticking

       out of his neck.  Bond looks up, catches sight of the CIGAR

       GIRL as she vaults out the broken window and onto THE ROOF.

       Bond rushes to the window...

       EXT. VERANDAH - ROOFS - GENEVA - DAY

       She swings on a WIRE across to another roof, quickly

       disappearing into shadows.

       Bond can hear sirens approaching. He returns to...

       THE OFFICE...he grabs the money and moves fast for the door,

       casually slipping that cigar into his pocket...

       Except Henchman #1 has recovered, blocks his way, gun in

       hand.  He starts to squeeze the trigger -- when a RED DOT

       appears on his chest...another window SHATTERS as a bullet

       zings through and pierces the henchman in the heart.

       Bond looks back once at the shattered window, then heads out.

       INT. BANK - GENEVA - DAY

       Bond appears on the top floor of the grand old building, by

       the elevator.  Looks over the balcony, sees figures on the

       stairs.  Hears the elevator cage start from below.

       Thinking fast, he wrenches open the steel gate, leans into

       the lift shaft, watches the elevator COUNTERWEIGHT as it

       comes down.  Almost nonchalant, he steps out...

       INT. STAIRWELL/ELEVATOR SHAFT - DAY

       As the cageful of police rises, Bond is now standing on the

       counterweight, DESCENDING.

       EXT. STREET - GENEVA

       Lunchtime.  Faceless business crowds heading for their brief

       moment of freedom, among them we spot BOND...one of them,

       with a briefcase and a suit and tie...HOLD on his face,

       troubled.

       INT. HOTEL - GENEVA - DAY

       The Cigar Girl enters a huge, high-ceilinged room. Edgy, she

       approaches a BIG MAN standing on a balcony overlooking the

       city.  Propped against the doorframe, an assassin’s RIFLE

       with LASER-SIGHT attached. BINOCULARS are on a tripod,

       trained on the rooftop below where we can see cops examining

       the shattered office windows.

       The man turns. Powerful, deadly, with a military haircut.

       There is a raised, red scar of an ENTRY WOUND at his temple.

       It throbs and shifts with the slightest facial expression,

       like an insect living just beneath his skin. One EYE seems

       slightly drooping, deadened. The other eye is sharp and black

       as anthracite.  It is a frightening face. This is RENARD.

                           RENARD

                 What’s his name? Our friend from MI-6?

                           CIGAR GIRL

                 James Bond.

                           RENARD

                 One of M’s more accomplished tin

                 soldiers.

                           CIGAR GIRL

                 He could identify me.

                           RENARD

                 If it concerns you...kill him.

       He touches her cheek and moves into the room, pouring two

       glasses of wine.

                           RENARD

                 Let’s toast this James Bond.  We’re in

                 his hands now...

                                                            CUT TO:

       EXT. RIVER THAMES - LONDON - DAY

       A SEAPLANE swoops over the Millennium Dome, banks along the

       snaking river.

       EXT. MI-6 - LONDON - DAY

       Tate Gallery in background, the seaplane moors beneath the

       vast stepped cake that is MI-6.  Bond exits with the

       suitcase.

       INT. SECURITY, MI-6 - DAY

       CAMERA MOVES with Bond as he enters this secret, hi-tech

       world.  He passes through countless security procedures,

       watched by an attentive staff.

       Bond scoops the money out of the suitcase.  Three million

       sterling in tightly bundled hundreds makes quite a sight.  He

       flicks his finger through the last wad, tosses it down

       wistfully.  A blue light scans it on three axis.

       The money is bundled into a clear plastic bag, put on a tray

       and wheeled through a series of barred enclosures into the

       SECURE ROOM.  Bond hands the suitcase to a STAFF MEMBER.

                           BOND

                 Have this checked, see what you can get

                 off it.

       INT. MONEYPENNY’S OFFICE, MI-6 - DAY

       Bond appears, hiding something behind his back.  Moneypenny

       brightens.

                           MONEYPENNY

                 James.  Brought me a souvenir from

                 Geneva?

       He produces the cigar, now in a large phallic TUBE.  Stands

       it end up on the desk.

                           BOND

                 Thought you might want one of these.

                           MONEYPENNY

                     (beat, deadpan)

                 I gave up a long time ago.

                     (nods to M’s door)

                 She’s in with Sir Robert.

       INT. M’S OFFICE, MI-6 - DAY

       Bond enters.  SIR ROBERT KING is perched on the edge of M’s

       desk.  Two glasses, a bottle of scotch open.

                           M

                 Sir Robert King, James Bond.

       King moves toward Bond with an easy, patrician smile. Bond

       notes a TINY BADGE in his lapel -- like the glass eye of a

       stuffed snake.

                           SIR ROBERT

                 Thanks for getting my money back --never

                 expected to see it again.  You’re the

                 kind of man I could use.  Though I won’t

                 offend certain parties by asking you to

                 join King Industries.

       King looks to M, smiling.

                           BOND

                 Construction’s not exactly my line.

                           M

                 Quite the opposite, in fact.

       She couldn’t resist. King smiles at Bond.  As he goes, he

       gives M a respectful kiss on the cheek. The door closes.  M

       turns.

                           BOND

                 Old friend?

                           M

                 Since Oxford. I knew him when he had

                 nothing but a brilliant mind and enough

                 guts to conquer the world. He’s a man of

                 great integrity.

                           BOND

                 Who buys classified reports for three

                 million pounds.

       M picks up the report from her desk.  Bond notices it is in

       Russian, with a SEAL from a Russian military agency in the

       corner: MIRATOM.

                           M

                 It’s a report on weapons security in the

                 former Soviet Union, which, as you know,

                 is shaky at best.  He’s had several

                 instances of sabotage at the pipeline,

                 and he’s understandably concerned. He

                 called me the moment he realized its

                 sensitive nature.

       She pours a scotch for Bond.  He drops some ice in,

       thoughtful.

                           BOND

                 Someone was watching over me in Geneva.

                 A guardian angel with a laser sight.

       He stops, rubs his thumb and forefinger together -- a strange

       SIZZLING where he touched the ice.  Realization sinks in.

                           BOND

                 King.

       M sees the seriousness in his eyes -- stabs at the intercom:

       INT. MONEYPENNY’S OFFICE, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Moneypenny’s eyes shoot to the intercom console:

                           M

                     (filtered)

                 Moneypenny, stop King leaving.

                           MONEYPENNY

                     (flicking switch)

                 Security --

       INT. CORRIDORS, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Sir Robert King and an MI-6 AIDE walk toward SECURITY.

       INT. Q DIVISION, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Q and his men are working on a strange half-built BOAT

       suspended over a water tank.

                           Q

                 ..the hydro boat can operate in three

                 inches of water...

       He looks up as Bond runs through...

       INT. SECURITY, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       THE MONEY lies on the tray, wrapped in plastic.

       Sir Robert approaches, two rows of security bars between him

       and the cash.  An official produces a bag and moves toward

       it:

                           SIR ROBERT

                 Thanks, but I’ll count it myself.

                     (apologetic, smiles)

                 Lifetime habit.  I’m Scottish.

       INT. LOWER CORRIDORS/SECURITY AREA, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Bond shoots around the corner just in time to see Sir Robert

       disappearing past the THICK STEEL DOOR of the secure room.

                           BOND

                 Stop!  King!

       INT. SECURITY, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       The shout is muffled, Sir Robert’s more interested in the

       money.

       He continues toward camera, that PIN on his lapel emits a

       serene HUM and we

                                                            CUT TO:

       CLOSE ON THE METAL STRIP IN ONE NOTE AS IT CRACKLES AND --

       KABOOM!  A MASSIVE EXPLOSION.

       INT. LOWER CORRIDORS/SECURITY AREA, MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       MAYHEM.  FIRE blasts out of the open doorway just as Bond

       reaches it.  The STEEL DOOR flies toward him.  He dives --

       EXT. MI-6/RIVER - CONTINUOUS

       The building rocks.  SMOKE is pouring from a HOLE that’s

       appeared in a lower tier. A wall and a section of roof gone.

       EXT. MI-6/RIVER - CONTINUOUS

       A figure staggers out, shaken.  Catching his breath.  BOND.

                                                            CUT TO:

       ECU CIGAR GIRL

       Lining up Bond with her infra-red telescopic sight.

       ANGLE ON BOND

       In the swirling dust and smoke, he suddenly sees a wand of

       red light, pointing at his chest.

       All instinct, he dives for cover.  Powerful, high velocity

       bullet hits blanket the area.  Bond prepares to return fire,

       scanning around for the source. Through the debris he spots

       an unusual, hi-tech BOAT on the river -- long and narrow and

       low.  A figure on board.  THE CIGAR GIRL.

       ANGLE ON CIGAR GIRL

       She FIRES OFF A ROUND OF SHOTS, forcing Bond back into cover.

       Then she guns the engines and SPEEDS OFF down the Thames.

       EXT. MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Determined, Bond races back into the wreckage...

       INT. MI-6 - CONTINUOUS

       Bond races through the chaos that is MI-6 and into...

       Q DIVISION

       Where he leaps into the prototype BOAT.  Q protests...

                           Q

                 It’s not finished!

       Bond looks at the mystifying number of buttons and gadgets

       ...presses something red and...THE BOAT LEAPS OUT, ENGINE

       ROARING...

       EXT. SLIPWAY - RIVER - DAY

       THE 007 THEME KICKS IN AS:

       JAMES BOND, in the Q boat, SHOOTS OUT of the MI-6 rubble and

       onto the Thames.

       EXT. RIVER THAMES - DAY

       Bond can see the Cigar Girl up ahead...he is closing the

       distance.  She catches sight of him in pursuit...

       EXT. CIGAR GIRL - BOAT - DAY

       She pushes the boat to its limit, it roars to a new level of

       speed...the chase is on.

       EXT. THAMES - DAY

       Police speedboats, alerted by the commotion, trail Bond.

       ON THE EMBANKMENT

       Police cars scream alongside, sirens wailing.

       ON THE THAMES

       Bond is losing ground as he and the Cigar Girl weave through

       traffic on the Thames. In a gutsy bid to keep pace, he

       corrals the Q boat into a hair-raising SHORT-CUT, shooting

       off...

       UNDERNEATH A PIER