KNIGHT
RIDER 2000
ACT ONE
1 AERIAL SHOT OVER SEATTLE – MAGIC HOUR
A city
cast in post-sunset magenta, electricity as far as the eye can see. Ant-sized
vehicles crowd through tunnels which pass beneath geometric skyscrapers.
Seattle has grown up.
2.
EXT. ANACORTES PRISON – NIGHT
Prison…but
no barbed wire. No watchtowers. Not a guard in sight. This tall, sprawling
complex more closely resembles a contemporary lab facility.
3 INT. ANACORTES PRISON – NIGHT
CLOSE
on a barred door as it pneumatically opens, finally giving us a sense of
incarceration, as do the pair of GUARDS who are escorting a lab-coated
PHYSICIAN past us. The Physician is pushing a castered module which resembles
today’s EKG machines taken many steps further. Many steps……
4 INT. PRISON – WIDE – NIGHT – (MATTE)
A
massive interior probably forty levels tall and a football field deep. Not
unlike the old fashioned prisons in some ways, with walkways running the length
of each level……but the comparison stops there. The facility is more akin to a
gargantuan morgue, barred cells replaced by body-sized aluminum doors stacked
one upon the other. Thousands of them.
The
Guards and Physician appear about fourteen levels up, tiny from this
perspective. They stop opposite one of the chambers.
CLOSER
ON THEM
as one
of the Guards checks his log book, then enters a code into the electronic lock
on chamber number #1433. An internal deadbolt clanks into remission and the
chamber slides out, revealing a clear, dome-shaped coffin. It’s impossible to
see a body inside; the chamber’s interior is completely saturated in a white
mist. The Physician uncoils a thick white cable from his module, and:
INSERT
– CHAMBER
He
plugs the multi-pronged adapter into a female port on the chamber. A red LED on
the port blinks off. A second later it’s replaced by yellow.
THE
PHYSICIAN
manipulates
his computerized module as if by rote. Just another day’s work. A decompressing
sound begins. He and the Guards look up as the chamber begins to clear, the
mist evaporating. The outline of a man’s body appears like an animal on a foggy
night road. He’s wearing prison denims.
TIGHT
ON JOHNNY WATTS
Eyes
closed. Not old, not young. Not dead, nor alive as the fog continues to
dissipate around him. Something tells us he looks this way regardless of being
cryogenically frozen. A frightening individual.
The
Physician presses a final sequence of digits, the yellow light turning green.
He and the Guards watch as the fog surrounding Johnny Watts’ face completely
vanishes. Several beats…..then his slate-gray eyes flicker open.
5 EXT. SEATTLE POLICE DEPARTMENT –
ESTABLISHING – DAY
Nothing
much has changed in ten years, if not fifty. The same old brick and stone
building downtown.
6 INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – DAY
TRACKING
with a pair of cops as they roughly guide a scuzzy FELON away from booking,
taking him down the hall to the holding cells.
On the way, the Felon decides to resist, smashing one of the cops
against the wall while breaking the other’s nose. The second cop falls into the
arms of:
SHAWN
MCCORMICK
helplessly
knocking her down. Her partner KURT MILLER immediately jumps on the creep,
wrestling him into submission as other cops rush up and take over. Kurt returns
to Shawn, helping her up.
KURT
You
okay?
Shawn
nods. A bit humiliated. She’s quite attractive, especially out of uniform. In
her twenties, long brown hair, a soft complexion. Police work hasn’t hardened
her yet. Partner Kurt is black, a few years older. FOLLOW them down the hall.
SHAWN
Nice
work.
KURT
I’ll
probably get hit with brutality. The scum’s a cop killer too…I love this system
They
disappear into:
7 THE LOCKER ROOM – DAY
and
immediately begin to undress from their civvies. Yes, both of them in the same
room. They’re not alone – another dozen cops, a mixture of men and women, are
dressing for their shifts as well. The group camaraderie seems pleasant enough;
among them are MARLA HEDGES, large, tough and thirtyish; and her male partner
JUSTIN STRAND, Aryan-blond, and muscular, around the same age. Hedges slaps
Kurt on the butt as he walks by.
HEDGES
Hey
Miller, we got the cush detail tonight. Something even your rookie can handle.
Shawn
smiles at her cynically, pulling on a boot.
HEDGES
We’re
babysitting the Mayor – some fund raiser at the Needle.
STRAND
All the
chicken wings you can eat.
HEDGES
Hope
somebody warned them I was coming.
Hedges
reaches into her locker with a grin, removing a belt containing a holstered
pistol. We only catch a glimpse, but it doesn’t look like your average gun. She
straps it on.
HEDGES
So,
McCormick – how do you like the street life so far?
SHAWN
Haven’t
seen much action yet.
HEDGES
You
probably won’t unless there’s a sudden rash of code 17’s at the donut shops in
your sector.
Everybody
eyes Kurt, laughing.
KURT
You’re
full of ‘em today, Hedges.
HEDGES
Every
day.
Hedges
snaps her jacket, then approaches Shawn…her tone changing.
HEDGES
You’ve
got a good partner. Just don’t blow it out there and you’ll be fine, honey.
Hedges
does seem to care about her. So do the others.
8 EXT. POLICE PARKING LOT – DAY
as
Shawn and Kurt climb into their unit, followed by their comrades. CRANE
STRAIGHT UP to reveal squad cars of the near-future; still black and white, but
much smaller, looking most like an updated hard-top Miata with an ultra-tech
overhead visibar. Traditional license plates are gone, bar-code plates
replacing them like you see on most products. The units pull out, heading
across rain slicked asphalt.
9 EXT. SKYSCRAPER RESTAURANT – ESTABLISHING –
AFTERNOON
The
dark, drizzly day continues as we watch the bubble-shaped elevator rise to a
skyscraper restaurant.
10 INT. SKYSCRAPER RESTURANT – AFTERNOON
A high
profile luncheon in progress. Sitting at the center table is MAYOR FRANK
COTTAM, seated next to CHIEF DEPUTY MAYOR JOE ABBEY. Mayor Cottam is
glad-handing like there’s no tomorrow. Standing inconspicuously by the hors
d’oeuvers table across from them are Hedges and Strand, indulging themselves.
Shawn
and Kurt are by the elevator; two other COPS are nearby. Kurt rubs his temples.
SHAWN
I have
some anti-inflammatory down in the unit…
KURT
Naw,
it’ll pass.
SHAWN
You
sure? It’s no problem.
He
shakes another no. Gives her a small smile.
KURT
Maybe a
chicken wing’ll help the cause.
He
moves toward the hors d’oeuvres table. Shawn waits a beat, then punches the
elevator down button anyway.
11 EXT. SKYSCRAPER PARKING LOT – AFTERNOON
Looking
up at the restaurant through the windshield of a parked car. ADJIST into a
CLOSE UP of the glove compartment as a hand opens it… pulling out a 9mm Sig
Sauer automatic pistol. RISE into the still-cold face of JOHNNY WATTS. He snaps
back the chamber, climbing from the car.
12 EXT SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – ONE MINUTE LATER
As the
doors open, Shawn exiting. A beat, then Watts appears from around the corner,
slipping in just before the doors close. We see him pull on a ski mask as the
chamber rises.
13 INT. SKYSCRAPER RESTAURANT – SAME TIME
As the
elevator doors open and Watts steps off, immediately GUN BUTTING the first Cop
who’s by the doors. Heads immediately turn, but not in time as he casually
SHOOTS Cop #2, who’s directly between him and the Mayor. Watts then levels his
gun on Mayor Cottam and matter-of-factly BLOWS HIM AWAY. Screams instantly
follow, people hitting the deck.
KURT,
HEDGES AND STRAND
pull
out their odd-looking handguns, aiming them just as:
WATTS
grabs
Chief Deputy Mayor Abbey, pointing his handgun at the terrified man, using him
as a shield.
WATTS
I’ll do
him too, so help me God!
DEPUTY
MAYOR ABBEY
Put
them down…please….
Strand
lowers his weapon, followed by Hedges. But Kurt keeps his leveled. Hedges’ eyes
dart to him.
KURT
(whisper)
I’m
gonna buzz both of ‘em.
HEDGES
(whisper)
You
know the code – he might get a shot off first. Put it down.
He
hesitates. She may be right. He lowers it. Watts backs toward the elevator.
14 EXT. SKYSCRAPER PARKING LOT – SAME TIME
as
Shawn opens her door, grabbing a bottle of pills from the glove compartment.
DISPATCH
(V.O.)
Attention
all Sector Five units: Code 17-X in progress at the Space Needle restaurant per
silent alarm. Proceed with extreme caution…
Shawn
pales, realizing. Her head jerks back to the skyscraper.
SHAWN’S
POINT OF VIEW
The
elevator is desending toward her, a masked Watts inside with Abbey.
SHAWN
Quickly
unholsters her weapon, running towards it.
15 EXT. SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – SIMULTANEOUS
As the
doors come open, revealing Watts and his hostage. Watts is about to step off
just as:
SHAWN
Freeze!
Shawn
is crouched behind a tourist map display case, her weapon aimed. Quite
surprised, Watts instantly uses Abbey as his shield again.
DEPUTY
MAYOR ABBEY
Don’t
shoot!
But she
fires anyway, hitting Abbey, who slumps to the ground. Strangely, her gun makes
a low frequency sonic sound upon discharge, its oversized barrel simultaneously
flashing with a strobe-like light. It’s an ULTRASOUND GUN.
Watts
is caught off guard; he hastily shoots at her, SHATTERING the display case
glass. Shawn returns the fire, the sonic force of her weapon RUPTURING the
elevator window next to him. Her next shot shocks Watt’s wrist, and send his 9
mm weapon flying into some bushes. He dives over a hedge and runs out of view.
ANOTHER
ANGLE
Shawn
pushes through the bushes, sprinting into the skyscraper Plaza… but he’s
nowhere to be seen. Watts has vanished.
16 EXT SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – ONE MINUTE LATER
as
Shawn hurries back to the moaning Abbey, starting to come to. Her eyes move to
the bushes where Watts’ gun flew; she digs through them and pulls out the
automatic pistol. Shawn stares at it with extreme discord… as if she recognizes
it. She stashes it inside her coat just as the elevator doors open and Kurt,
Hedges, and Strand rush out.
KURT
Where
is he??
SHAWN
He took
off through the Plaza. I lost him.
Hedges
gives her a stern look before she and Strand trample through the hedge in
pursuit.
KURT
You
okay?
Shawn
nods. She says nothing about the gun in her pocket as Kurt follows Hedges and
Strand.
CUT TO:
17 A BALL OF FLAMES (COMPUTER ANIMATION)
Instantly
following an EXPLOSION… then an automobile appears in the storm’s eye, racing
through the fireball unscathed. The car doesn’t seem real, probably because
it’s not – this is a computer animated replica of a real vehicle. We only catch
a brief glimpse of it here but it is definitely enough to whet the appetite:
Deep red. Aerodynamic. Single construction dome which now appears mirror-shiny
and opaque, reflecting the flames back at us. A future car indeed, even for the
year 2000. Science fact brought to life.
18 INT. KNIGHT 4000 – SAME TIME (COMPUTER/PROCESS)
Looking
at the windshield, rather than through it. The glass is a computer-generated
3-D screen, much like the sophisticated cockpit of a war plane. Very realistic
smoke and flames bombard our vision as we continue to race forward, the haze clearing
to expose a TERRORIST VAN, also computer-animated. A small FLASH from the van’s
open rear doors as another shell is launched, EXPLODING DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF
US.
19 INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – EXTREME CLOSE UP –
MADDOCK’S FACE
as the
flames flicker his eyes. Is he driving the car? It’s hard to tell.
MADDOCK
Computer-generated
Virtual Reality, gentlemen -- much like what our Air Force currently uses.
20 INT. KNIGHT 4000 – CONTINUOUS (COMPUTER/PROCESS)
ULTRASONIC
DISABLER digitally types across the lower portion of the windshield; multiple
targeting crosshairs appear, pinpointing FOUR ANIMATED CRIMINALS as the van
stops and they attempt to flee. The crosshairs burst with light and they all go
down like pins in a video game.
21 EXT. STREET – CONTINUOUS (COMPUTER ANIMATION)
as the
simulated Knight 400- four-wheel-drifts into a product-shot stop, the thwarted
Terrorists just beyond it. A flashy musical fanfare crescendos.
Our
view PULLS BACK, revealing that we’ve been watching all of this on a
high-definition TV screen at the end of a large conference table. RUSS MADDOCKS
proudly holds a remote control, sitting close to the screen with a Knight
Foundation familiar face – DEVON. Maddock presses a button and the audio-visual
display goes blank, curtains opening to expose the gray, rainy Seattle skyline.
He and Devon face the rest of the table.
MADDOCK
I don’t
know about you but it impresses the hell out of me, if I do say so myself.
Russ
Maddock is maybe fifty, but his tough good looks make him seem younger. He has
an aggressive, confident, arrogant edge.
22 INT. CITY HALL CONFERENCE ROOM – REVERSE
Sitting
at the opposite end is the former Deputy Chief Mayor, whom we’ll now call MAYOR
JOE ABBEY. He’s surrounded by several AIDES. Halfway up the table to his right
is POLICE COMMISSIONER RUTH DANIELS, a no-nonsense woman in her forties who
smiles little. Seated next to Daniels is her ever-present, owlish male
ASSISTANT, who’s constantly entering data into an oversized wrist computer/calculator.
MAYOR
ABBEY
It’s a
nice simulation. But I doubt even that car could’ve saved Mayor Cottam’s life.
DEVON
It’s a
sad fact we’ll never know.
MADDOCK
True,
but once completed, I guarantee you’ll be quite astonished by what the Knight 4000
can accomplish.
Devon
gives him a look. So much for sensitivity.
MAYOR
ABBEY
Frank
Cottam gave me my career. I want whoever’s responsible for his death stopped.
DEVON
So do
we, Mayor Abbey.
MADDOCK
…And
we’re your solution. Not only do we have a state-of-the-art operations base,
but now a cutting edge vehicle which is an entire department on wheels – I’m
talking a communications center with worldwide links and artificial
intelligence superior to the Commissioner and all her cops put together.
(to
Comm. Daniels)
With
all due respect, Commissioner Daniels.
Devon
smiles diplomatically.
DEVON
Mr.
Maddock’s enthusiasm is shared by everyone at the Foundation. Of course, we’re
here in the spirit of collaboration.
COMM.
DANIELS
Seattle
does not need another law enforcement agency. Period.
MADDOCK
And I
suppose L.A., New York, and Chicago don’t either. Funny, they all have a
freelance department now.
COMM.
DANIELS
We’re
not any of those cities.
MADDOCK
Oh no?
Maddock
stands, moving to the huge window, gazing at the city below as its landmark
monorail glides by.
MADDOCK
The
city of the future…that’s what they said at the World’s Fair back in ’62. I’ve
got news for you – the future is here and that monorail’s an antique now. So’s
your old way of fighting crime.
COMM.
DANIELS
Don’t
talk to me about antiques. The Knight Foundation was a philanthropic dinosaur
until Devon brought you on board.
DEVON
Commissioner,
that isn’t quite accurate. The former Mayor had enormous respect for our
company’s accomplishments, or he never would’ve entered into a relationship
with us.
COMM.
DANIELS
Keeping
the city safe is difficult enough without a freelance department to stumble
over. At best you’ll impede due process, and create legal havoc.
MADDOCK
I don’t
think I can listen to much more of this…
DEVON
Russ,
please…
Maddock
refuses to hear him, pacing around the table as he launches into his diatribe.
MADDOCK
First
you ban capital punishment, then you ban handguns from everybody including your
own police! It may work in other countries but it sure as hell doesn’t work
here.
COMM.
DANIELS
It
hasn’t had a chance to work. We’re one of the first cities to put a ban into
action – we’re setting a precedent for the entire country. There’s more at
stake here than a few black market handguns hitting the streets.
MADDOCK
What’s
at stake are citizens’ lives, not the damn politics.
COMM.
DANIELS
Correct.
And fewer handguns means fewer deaths.
MADDOCK
I’m
sorry, but the wrong people are getting shot and killed. Slapping a murderer’s
hand with Ultrasound deters nobody, and what happens after that? You freeze
them so they can come out twenty years later and victimize a whole new
generation!
Comm.
Daniels’ Assistant quickly whispers in her ear.
COMM.
DANIELS
Cryogenic
Incarceration saves an estimated 1.5 billion dollars a year while solving the
crisis with prison overcrowding and cruel conditions.
MADDOCK
Who’s
side are you on anyway?
MAYOR
ABBEY
What’s
your point, Mr. Maddock?
MADDOCK
You
might be the next one lying dead in a restaurant, Mr. Mayor. Can you really
afford not to have us?
A long
pause. One of the Abbey’s aides hands him a deal memo, key passages
highlighted. He skims it.
MAYOR ABBEY
I’m
giving you thirty days to get that car ready and show me some results, or I’m
canceling your contract.
DEVON
Sir,
the Knight 4000 is still in prototype for. It won’t be ready for at least two
months.
MAYOR
ABBEY
That’s
not my problem. Good day, gentlemen.
23 INT. CITY HALL – OUTER LOBBY – THIRTY
SECONDS LATER
As
Devon and Maddock step out the door.
MADDOCK
We’ll
get through this – don’t worry about them.
DEVON
It’s us
that concerns me.
(beat)
We need
help, Russ.
24 EXT. ORCAS ISLAND – SUNSET
As a
beat-to-shit salmon skiff glides toward its isolated dock, hungry sea gulls
circling above it. Just beyond it, nestled amongst tall ponds, is a woody beach
bungalow.
CLOSER
ON SKIFF
We
haven’t seen him in many years…and time, maybe more than time, has collected
its tariff. MICHAEL KNIGHT stands at the helm, a bottle of Ballard Bitters in
one hand. Unshaven. Dark circles. A lonely man. He eases against his berth,
cutting the engine. Finishes his beer.
25 EXT. BUNGALOW – MINUTES LATER
A
black, muddy 1991 Volvo sedan, ten years old now, is parked in the dirt
driveway. ADJUST to find Michael walking up from his dock. He moves a little
further, spotting a much newer and cleaner sedan parked behind his Volvo.
Another few steps and his front porch comes into view.
Michael
stops cold. A mixture of emotions hits him, but one is dominant. The pleasure
in seeing an old friend.
Devon sits on a wooden bench on the stone
porch.
DEVON
Hello,
Michael.
Michael
moves towards him. A beat for them to appraise each other, then a long embrace.
When they break….
DEVON
How
have you been?
MICHAEL
Good.
Real good.
Somehow
his appearance and voice don’t harmonize.
26 INT. MICHAEL’S BUNGALOW – DUSK
A fire
now burns under Michael’s mantle. His home is warm, unpretentious, the
antithesis of big city life. Michael moves back to the living room, having just
uncapped another bottle.
MICHAEL
Sure
you don’t want one? It’s a local micro brew.
Devon
shakes a polite no.
DEVON
Michael,
I came out here for two reason: to see an old friend….and because I need his
help.
Michael
knows this tone. Anxiety sets in. He eases himself into a chair. Sips his beer
introspectively.
MICHAEL
Devon…I’m
not the same person anymore. I gave up that life.
(ironic
smile)
Guess
I’m on my third one now.
DEVON
When we
saved your life, it was no random choice, Michael. Right from the beginning, we
saw something in you.
(beat)
I still
see it.
MICHAEL
I’m
happy out here.
DEVON
Are
you?
Michael
swallows his Bitters without comment.
DEVON
I made
a promise a very long time ago. A promise to fulfill one man’s dream…
MICHAEL
Devon,
I…
DEVON
Please
let me finish before you say no. Wilton Knight created the Foundation with
hopes of finding intelligent solutions to violent problems…problems which have
changed little in tens, if not hundreds of years. It’s what’s kept me going,
Michael…I truly share the same dream. I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was
another answer.
(beat)
I need
you.
Michael
moves to his fireplace, warming himself. Still noncommittal.
DEVON
Come
back for the next two months, just until we cement our contract. If you choose
to leave after that, I won’t say a word.
(beat)
Do you
remember what Wilton always said? One man can make a difference.
Michael
considers it, long and hard. Avoiding eye contact.
MICHAEL
Only
under one condition.
DEVON
K.I.T.T.
will be waiting for us upon arrival.
27 INT. KNIGHT WAREHOUSE – CLOSE ON BOXES – DAY
stacked
on fork lift pallets. All labeled K.I.T.T. A muffler protrudes out the corner
of one crate. RISE from behind the boxes to discover the stunned faces of Devon
and Michael.
Russ Maddock stands nearby.
MADDOCK
I had
to liquidate certain assets to make our balance sheet look good. Otherwise we
never would’ve landed the franchise.
(beat)
Frankly,
never considered this car an asset to begin with. Good thing the research
facilities disagreed with me.
DEVON
Yes.
Indeed.
MADDOCK
After
all, the car was almost two decades old and with the Knight 4000 on the way, it
hardly seemed worth the price of storage.
DEVON
Yes.
Hardly.
MICHAEL
(to
Devon)
You let
this guy actually do this?
MADDOCK
This
“guy” happens to be your new boss, Mr. Knight. I’d watch that attitude from now
on.
Michael
just stares. Devon tactfully contains his anger.
DEVON
I
assume you can repurchase the missing parts.
MADDOCK
Most of
them, I think. If you really insist on this, I can…
MICHAEL
Don’t
bother.
Michael
walks out, just like that. After a moment….
MADDOCK
He’s
not exactly what you led me to believe he’d be, Devon.
Devon,
maybe for the first time ever, really explodes.
DEVON
And
neither are you, Mr. Maddock. How dare you dismantle that car without first
discussing it with me!
MADDOCK
I did
what I had to do to keep this operation afloat. I make no apologies for it.
DEVON
Of
course you wouldn’t – humility and modesty are not in your vocabulary! I’ve
just about had all the arrogance I can take…
MADDOCK
You
want a nice guy? That’s not me. But I get results.
DEVON
Yes,
like alienating the Police Commissioner who could’ve been our ally and now
losing what could be our biggest strength.
MADDOCK
You
can’t be serious.
DEVON
If not
for Michael and K.I.T.T., the Knight Foundation would’ve died long before you
came aboard. Getting him out here was no easy feat.
MADDOCK
Probably
not, judging by his hangover.
DEVON
As long
as I’m the controlling partner we do things my way, is that clear?
Maddock
slowly nods, his jaw firm. Devon storms out after Michael.
28 EXT. SHAWN’S TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT
as a
late model (1999) coupe pulls up outside a modern townhouse complex. Kurt’s
behind the wheel, Shawn shotgun. Both are off-duty. She starts to get out. Kurt
stops her.
KURT
Daniels
must’ve chewed you up and down for buzzing the Deputy Mayor, huh?
She
hesitates, looking at him. Something else is going on.
KURT
C’mon,
McCormick. What gives?
SHAWN
You
know why Forensics never recovered that handgun from the Needle? Because I did.
He
didn’t expect this.
KURT
Why?
SHAWN
I don’t
know…it was kind of a hunch. The gun was a nine millimeter Sig Sauer, Kurt.
They were all supposed to be have been melted down.
Kurt
considers it carefully.
KURT
It
doesn’t mean it was a cop’s gun. There are lots of nine mil’s out there on the
black market.
SHAWN
I know,
but I had this feeling about it. Please tell me it’s my dumb intuition.
KURT
It
probably is.
SHAWN
But why
is this particular gun showing up all of a sudden? It’s not the first one
lately.
Kurt
shrugs solemnly. She reaches into her coat, revealing the Sig Sauer.
SHAWN
Can you
run a ballistics on it, just for my own piece of mind? It’s been stuck under my
mattress for three days, and I haven’t slept since.
He
nods, taking it. Remembering what it was like to hold one.
KURT
I’ll do
some quiet checking around. In the meantime, say nothing to nobody…this could
go way up.
SHAWN
Did I
screw up?
He
smiles at her. Proud.
KURT
You did
good. Get some sleep, all right?
She
nods appreciatively, climbing out. He starts his ignition. Very worried.
29 INT. SHAWN’S TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT
Peering
through her window as Shawn walks up her stairs, pulling out her plastic key
card for the door (much like hotels have been using for years, now commonplace
in homes). A HAND APPEARS, gently easing the curtain back. Someone is inside
her townhouse.
OUTSIDE
– SIMULTANOUS
As Shawn
continues up the steps, not catching the glimpse of a figure passing by the
window. She slides her card into the door lock and opens the door. We go insid
with her…into the darkness. Shawn reaches for the light switch and:
EVERYBODY
Surprise!!!
Her
townhouse is filled with around fifty people, all friend from the force, some
in uniform, some off-duty. A “Happy Birthday” banner runs from the chandelier
to the kitchenette, balloons everywhere. Kurt steps in behind her.
KURT
Happy
birthday, Shawn.
Marla
Hedges walks up with partner Strand.
HEDGES
From
the look on your face, I’d say your partner keeps a damn good secret.
SHAWN
(looks
at Kurt)
Yeah.
Suddenly
there are catcalls for a speech. Kurt holds up her hands, quieting them down.
Shawn takes her time; clearly, she is touched.
SHAWN
I don’t
really have a family anymore…at least not until I joined the P.D. The last few
months have been the greatest in a long time, and it’s thanks to all of you. I
know I have a lot to learn and you’ve been really patient…but mark my words,
I’m going to repay you guys by being the very best, that’s all there is to it.
I love all of you.
A big
applause and plenty of “awws.”
HEDGES
Enough
with the sentiment – cut the damn cake!
30 INT. KNIGHT WAREHOUSE – DAY
TRACKING
past a pile of components on a workbench, some very familiar: K.I.T.T.’s front
grille chaser light. Part of his dash containing the Turbo Boost toggles. The
LED voice modulator which lighted in sync with K.I.T.T.’S voice. All of them
dormant now. Eventually we arrive at Michael, soldering a connection. Not
looking any better than the last time we saw him.
Devon
appears, walking over with a “Pepsi Tri-Free” in hand – the cans are taller and
narrower now, jet black with the familiar red-and-blue logo. He offers it to
Michael.
DEVON
It’s
triglyceride free.
Michael
declines with a shake of the head, throwing a switch. Nothing happens.
MICHAEL
Care to
talk about that ass you hired?
DEVON
I did
what I had to do to survive.
Michael
moves away, grabbing some needle nose pliers.
MICHAEL
You
promised me K.I.T.T.’s body.
DEVON
That I
did.
Once
again, Devon offers him the soft drink.
DEVON
I’m
afraid he’s been recycled.
Michael
stares at the jet-black can. Speechless.
K.I.T.T.
Now
that’s just wonderful…
Both
Michael and Devon jerk their heads toward the workbench. The front grill
chasers have come to life, along with the dash voice modulator.
K.I.T.T.
…You
stick me in mothballs for nearly a decade and then you sell off my parts like
I’m a vendor from Manny, Moe and Jack.
DEVON
K.I.T.T….
it’s marvelous to hear your voice.
K.I.T.T.
I wish
I could say the same, Devon, but one of my auditory monitors must have landed
in some kid’s walkie talkie.
Even
Michael can’t help smiling a bit. An electronic eye shrouded in bare wires
swivels in his direction.
K.I.T.T.
Is that
you, Michael?
MICHAEL
Yep.
K.I.T.T.
You
look like crap.
MICHAEL
So do
you, pal.
K.I.T.T.
I’m
much worse than meets the eye. Where is my random access? Or my graphics board?
I can’t even play a round of Pacman in here!
DEVON
(smiles
at Michael)
At
least some things haven’t changed.
31 EXT. DOWNTOWN DONUT SHOP – NIGHT
looking
through the window of their squad car as Kurt returns with a box of glazed and
two cups of coffee. Shawn reaches over, opening the door for him.
KURT
Pretty
soon they are gonna ban these – I saw eat ‘em while you can.
He
grins, taking a bite.
SHAWN
Did you
run that ballistics?
The
grin fades.
KURT
Still
waiting for the results. We have to play this low key, you know?
She
nods. Disappointed. Suddenly the dispatch comes to life.
DISPATCH
(V.O.)
Attention
all Sector Eight units: Code 17-X in progress, Pike Place second level. Use
extreme caution…
Kurt
throws down the donut.
32 EXT. MARKETPLACE – ONE MINUTE LATER
as
their black-and-white skids to a stop in front of a multi-level marketplace.
Their air-raid sounding siren winds down as Shawn and Kurt leap out.
KURT
Cover
the north exit.
The two
of them diverge.
33 INT. JEWELRY SHOP – SIMULTANEOUS
A
crazed DRUGGIE has his automatic pistol leveled on the owner, several other
patrons face-to-the-floor.
DRUGGIE
Gimme
all of it!
He shoots
out a mirror above her head. People scream, the scattered Owner quickly
clearing another row of necklaces from a felt display case and dumping them in
a bag.
ANGLE –
SHAWN
Coming
up to a corner in the lower level hall, Ultrasound gun drawn. She sticks her
head around a millisecond before a bullet blasts out a chunk of plaster by her
face. She flinches, catching a blur as the Druggie races over to a set of
stairs in the far corner. RUN WITH SHAWN as she gives foot pursuit, lifting
what looks like her watch, speaking into it.
SHAWN
Have
located suspect on the bottom level north. Appears to be heading outside.
34 EXT. MARKETPLACE – WHARF SIDE OF BUILDING
As the
Druggie slams open the exit door, sprinting beneath the marketplace’s dark support
beams. A second later, Shawn appears.
SHAWN
Freeze!
He
stops, turns around and FIRES, not the slightest bit worried about her
Ultrasound return fire. The bullet misses her and she instinctively kneels and
shoots, hitting him squarely. He goes down right next to a wide steel beam.
Shawn cautiously approaches, kneeling over him, lifting the familiar handgun
from his grip. Another 9mm Sig Sauer police issue.
The
druggie starts to come to. She holds him down with her foot, showing him his
own weapon.
SHAWN
Where’d
you get this?
He
comes out of his daze, glancing knowingly just beyond her. Suddenly Shawn feels
a BARREL pressed against the back of her skull. Someone has just appeared from
behind the beam.
Johnny
Watts. Gripping yet another 9 mm automatic.
WATTS
We meet
again.
(beat)
The
Space Needle?
Shawn
realizes. He takes the gun from her grip, along with her Ultrasound.
HEDGES
You
shouldn’t have picked up that gun, McCormick.
The
Druggie pulls off his wig, and his moustache. He’s a SHE. The Druggie is fellow
officer Marla Hedges. Shawn is numb with shock.
SHAWN
We can
work this out…
WATTS
Relax,
Officer. You’re off-duty now.
He
raises his weapon and….
TIGHT
ON WATTS’ FACE
BOOM!
as he shoots Shawn point-blank. FREEZE FAME into a computer-generated replica
of Watt’s frigid face and:
BLACK
OUT.
END OF
ACT ONE