Knight Rider 2000

Pilot

Written by

Rob Hedden

Novelized by

Scott Kirkessner

Based upon KNIGHT RIDER

Created by

Glen A. Larson

In the 21^st Century, handguns are banned by law from citizens and the city’s own police force. Police officers, refusing to subject themselves to defenselessness, band together to from a black market gun running ring. Shawn McCormick, a rookie, stumbles onto that ring in a setup by her own colleagues, and finds herself at the end of an illegal handgun aimed at her head. Shot and left for dead, Shawn gains a memory chip, and comes to the next step in law enforcement, the Foundation for Law and Government, where she learns about the chips true source.

Shawn must work with Michael Knight, recalled from retirement to assist the ailing Foundation, in order to stop the illegal guns from destroying the city.

Rated PG for profanity, suggestive dialogue and mild violence.

The date is February 19, 2000. Yet another day at Quayton State Prison. Things have changed now that the new millennium is here. All prisoners are cryogenically frozen in small “drawers.” Thomas Watts is being prepared for parole. He has been frozen in cell 1433 since 1998. The doctor and the guard approached Watts’ cell. The doctor punched in the cell number. The metallic “drawer” slid out. The doctor then punched in some more codes. He checked the medical status of the prisoner. After everything checks out, the doctor pushes a button and in these seconds, Thomas Watts opens his eyes and takes his first breath.

At the Metropolitan Police station, things were busy as usual.

“You’ve kept me here for three hours,” yelled a bag lady, “I got my rights ya know? You just can’t keep me down here against my will, I got to get home and feed my poor ol’ cats and my dogs, they’re hungry, quit... quit jerkin’ me around. Tell me, why I’m bein’ held down here...” The cop escorting her was nodding without a real care in the world.

At the desk, a man was being escorted to a unit waiting to take him to Quayton. Two cops were holding him tightly by the arm. The convict booted the one cop to the side and punched him, he then turned to the other cop and punched him too. Shawn McCormick, a rookie, saw the commotion and decided to help. She jumped on the convict, but he slammed her against the wall. She recovered and slammed against his side. This, in turn, knocked the wind out of her and she fell. Kurt Miller, Shawn’s friend and partner ran to help. He whipped out his ultrasound and slammed the convict in the face. The convict fell and two more cops ran to pick the convict up and take him to a holding cell.

Kurt helped Shawn up. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Nice work.” said Shawn.

“I’ll probably get it for brutality. That scum’s a cop killer. I love this system.”

Later in the coed locker room, Kurt walked in getting ready to roll soon. Marla Hedges, another officer smacked him on the butt.

“Hey, hey Miller,” said Hedges, “we got the crisp details today, something even your rookie can handle.”

“Thank you.” said Shawn.

“Were baby-sitting the mayor,” said Hedges, “some fund-raiser at the Tower.”

“All the chicken wings you can eat.” said Officer Strand.

Kurt turned around, chicken wings were his favorite food.

“I had someone warn them I was coming.” said Hedges. “So McCormick, how do ya like the street life so far?”

“Haven’t seen much action yet.” said Shawn.

“You probably won’t. Unless there is a sudden rash of code 17’s at all the donut shops in your sector.”

“Your full of it aren’t you Hedges?” asked Kurt.

“Every day.” she responded. She walked over to Shawn. “Look, you got a good partner, just don’t blow it out there and you’ll be fine, honey, eh?”

Shawn just nodded.

At the Tower Restaurant, the mayor’s fund-raiser was going very well. Mayor Frank Cottam was shaking hands and talking to everyone. The officers were pigging out at the food table and keeping an eye on the mayor as well. Shawn and Kurt were standing by the elevator. Kurt was rubbing his head.

“What’s the matter?” asked Shawn.

Kurt just moaned.

“I have some anti-inflammatory down in the unit, let me get it for you.”

“No, I’ll pass. Maybe a chicken wing might help.” Kurt walked over with Hedges and Strand.

Down in the parking lot, Watts was sitting in his car waiting for the right moment. He pulled out a 9 millimeter Weber from the glove box. He made sure it was loaded and exited the car. Shawn walked out of the elevator just as he was stepping in. He pushed the button and put on a ski mask. He was ready for the assassination. The elevator opened on the top floor, the cop guarding the door was pushed aside and Watts shot an officer. He ran by and pushed down Kurt, Hedges, and Strand. Watts ran up and shot the mayor in the stomach. The mayor moaned and collapsed. He put the gun up to Harold Abbey, the vice mayor.

“I’ll do him too so help me God!” yelled Watts, “Come on!”

“Put them down, please!” said Abbey.

Strand put down his ultrasound and so did Hedges.

“I’m gonna buzz ‘em both.” said Kurt.

“You know the code.” said Hedges, “He might get a shot on first, put down your ultrasound. Put it down!”

Kurt set the weapon down. Watts took the Abbey with him and Kurt immediately put in the call.

Shawn was rummaging through the glove box for medicine for Kurt when the call came in.

“Attention all sector five units, code 17x in progress at the Tower Restaurant. Proceed with extreme caution.”

Shawn dropped the bottle and ran. She was just turning the corner when she saw Watts and Abbey emerge from the elevator. “FREEZE!” she yelled.

“Don’t shoot!” yelled Abbey.

Watts shot at Shawn. Shawn shot back, but accidentally buzzed Abbey instead. Watts ran off and Shawn shot at him again. This time he fell, but the ultrasound hit off center and stunned him for only a second. Watts got up and ran. Shawn ran after but lost him. She started walking back and then she found it. The gun. She picked it up. It was still loaded.

At the Knight Foundation, Russell Maddock and Devon Miles were about to finish a presentation for Mayor Abbey and Police Commissioner Ruth Daniels. There was a simulation showing the capabilities for the Foundation’s new project, the Knight Industries Four Thousand, or K.I.F.T. The simulation ended and Maddock turned off the projector.

“I don’t know about all of you, but it impresses the hell out of me. If I do say so myself” he said.

“It’s a nice simulation,” said Abbey, “but I doubt even that car coulda saved Mayor Cottam’s life.”

“I’m afraid that’s something we’ll never know.” said Devon.

“Well true, but once completed, I guarantee you’ll be quite astonished by what the Knight 4000 can do.” said Maddock.

“Frank Cottam gave me my career, I want whoever is responsible for his death stopped.”

“We all do, Mayor Abbey.” said Devon.

“And we’re your solution,” said Maddock, “not only that we have a state-of-the-art operations base, but now a vehicle, which is an entire department on wheels. I’m talking a communication center with worldwide links, the latest virtual reality display technology and artificial intelligence superior to the commissioner and all her cops put together.”

Commissioner Daniels glared at him.

“With all due respect Commissioner Daniels.” ended Maddock.

“Mr. Maddock’s enthusiasm is shared by the entire Foundation, course we’re here in the sprit of collaboration.” said Devon.

Commissioner Daniels just about had it. This was a waste of time. “We do not need another law-enforcement department here, period.”

Maddock had it with Daniels as well. Countless requests have been denied now that Frank Cottam is dead. “And I suppose L.A., New York, and Chicago don’t, either. Funny, they all have free-lance department now.”

“We’re not any of those cities.”

“Oh no? The ‘City of the Future.’ That’s what they said back in the 90’s. Well I got news for you, the future’s here, and that tower is an antique now. So is your old way of fighting crime.”

“Don’t talk to me about antiques. The Knight Foundation was a philanthropic dinosaur, until Devon brought you on board.”

“Commissioner, that isn’t quite accurate. Mayor Cottam had enormous respect of our company’s accomplishments, or else he would never have established a relationship with us.” said Devon.

“Keeping the city safe is difficult enough, without a free-lance department to stumble over. At best you’ll impede due-process and...and create legal havoc.”

Maddock was tired of Daniels put downs and her dumb excuses. “I don’t think I can listen to much more of this.”

“Russ, please!” said Devon.

“No, first you ban capital punishment and then you ban handguns from everyone. Including your own police! It may work in other countries, but it sure as hell doesn’t work here!”

“It hasn’t had a chance to work!” said Daniels. “We are one of the first cities to activate this ban. We are setting a precedent for the entire country.”

“I’m sorry, but the wrong people are getting shot. And what do you do with these murderers instead of firing back, you buzz them with ultrasound, and then you freeze them, so they can come back 20 years later and victimize a whole new generation.”

Daniels’ assistant, Andrew, leaned over to give some tips to the commissioner to win the argument.

Daniels began. “Cryogenic incarceration saves an estimate 1.2 billion dollars per year, while solving the problem of prison over crowding and cruel conditions.”

“Whose side are you on anyway?” asked Maddock.

“What’s your point Mr. Maddock?” asked Abbey.

“You may be the next one laying dead in a restaurant Mr. Mayor. Can you really afford not to have us?”

Still not impressed, Abbey gave the Knight Foundation a small chance. “I’m giving you 30 days to complete that car and show me some results or I’m dropping your free lance contract.”

“Mr. Mayor,” protested Devon, “The Knight 4000 is still in prototype form. It won’t be ready for at least two more months.”

“That’s not my problem. Good day gentlemen.”

All the people in the room walked out. The first one out was Commissioner Daniels.

“So we’ll get through this, all right.” said Maddock, “Don’t...don’t worry about them.”

“I’m worried about us.” said Devon. “We need help, Russ. We need help.”

With two fishing poles in hand and an empty cooler, Michael Knight emerged from his small boat. He’s been living here since 1990, when he left the Foundation. He walked across the bridge and toward his house. That’s when he saw an old, good friend. He stopped, put down his stuff and stared.

“Hello Michael.” said Devon.

“Hello Devon.”

Devon got up and the two hugged. They haven’t seen each other in 10 years.

“How are you?” asked Devon.

“Good. I’m real good.”

The fire was cracking and warm inside. Michael brought Devon a drink.

“Thank you. I came here for two reasons,” said Devon, “to see an old friend, and because I need your help.”

“Devon,” began Michael, “I’m not the same person anymore. I gave up that life. I guess I’m on my third one now.”

“When we saved your life, it was no random choice, Michael. Right from the beginning we saw something in you. I still see it.”

“I’m happy out here.”

“Are you? I made a promise a very long time ago. A promise to fulfill one man’s dream.”

Michael got up. “Devon, I don’t wanna-”

“Let me finish before you say no. Wilton Knight created the Foundation in hopes to find intelligent solutions to violent problems. Problems that have changed little in tens of not hundreds of years. That’s what’s kept me going, Michael. I truly share the same dream. I wouldn’t ask this if there were any other answer. I need you. Come back for the next 30 days until we cement our contract. Then, after that, if you decide to go, I won’t say a word. Do you remember what Wilton always said, ‘One man can make a difference?’”

“I remember. But that man’s not me anymore. Me is fishing, taking care of my Chevy outside. Me is taking advantage of life for a change, instead of life taking advantage of me.”

“No one suggested that what we do is easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is. Don’t make me beg, Michael. I have nowhere else to turn.”

“Only under one condition.”

Devon knew what Michael was taking about. “He’ll be waiting for us on arrival.”

In the garage, Maddock, Devon and Michael were standing around a container, filled with parts. Parts of a car, and parts of Michael Knight’s life. Inside, dismantled, was the Knight Industries Two Thousand, or K.I.T.T. for short.

“I had to liquidate some items to make our balance sheet look good, otherwise we would have never landed a franchise. Frankly, I never saw K.I.T.T. as an asset to begin with.” said Maddock.

“Oh,” said Devon, “I see.”

“It’s nothing personal, Devon, but the car didn’t exactly have fresh oil on the dipstick if you know what I mean. And with the 4000 on the way, it hardly seemed worth the price of storage.” said Maddock.

“Yes hardly.” said Devon.

“You let this guy actually do this?” asked Michael.

“This guy happens to be your new boss Mr. Knight!” yelled Maddock, “And I’d watch that attitude from now on.”

“I assume you can repurchase the missing components.” said Devon.

“Most of them, I think. I was surprised that I could sell them at all, but I guess research facilities found them okay. Shows how up to date they are. Listen, if your really insist on buying them back--”

“Just don’t... bother!” said Michael. He walked off.

Maddock leaned toward Devon. “He’s not exactly as you led me to believe he be, Devon.”

“Neither are you Mr. Maddock!” shouted Devon. “How dare you dismantle that car without first discussing it with me.”

“I did what I had to do to keep this operation alive, now I make no excuses for it!”

“No, you wouldn’t! Humility and modesty are hardly in your makeup! I had just about all arrogance I can take.”

“Look, you want a nice guy, that’s not me, but I get results!”

“As long as I’m the controlling partner we do things my way, is that clear?”

“Yeah.”

Devon walked off leaving Maddock defeated.

Kurt pulled up to Shawn’s apartment building.

“Thanks for the ride, Kurt. Goodnight.” said Shawn.

Kurt gently grabbed her arm. “Daniels must have chewed you up and down ‘bout the buzzin’ of the deputy mayor. C’mon, McCormick, what gives.”

“Do you know why forensics never recovered that handgun from the Tower?”

Kurt shook his head.

“Because I did.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a hunch. The gun was a 9 millimeter Weber, Kurt.”

“That doesn’t mean it was a cop’s gun.”

“But they were all have supposed to been melted down.”

“There are lots of 9 mills out there on the black market.”

“Oh, but I have a feeling about this. Tell me it’s my dumb intuition.”

“It probably is.” said Kurt, laughing.

Shawn was still concerned. “But why is this particular gun showing up all of a sudden. This isn’t the first one, lately.” She pulled the gun from her purse. “Will you run a ballistics on this? Just for my own piece of mind. I stuck it under my mattress three days ago and haven’t been able to sleep since.”

Kurt took the gun from her. “I’ll do some quiet asking around. In the meantime don’t say nothin’ to nobody. Who knows where this could go.”

“Did I screw up?”

“No, you did good. Now go get some sleep. All right?”

Shawn walked into her apartment. She pushed the pad to turn on the lights. It didn’t work. After two more tries, she decides to check the lamp itself. Then, the lights turn on.

“SURPRISE!” yelled some officers of the Metropolitan Police Department.

Shawn stumbled back, still stunned.

Kurt walked in. “Happy Birthday, Shawn!” he yelled. He gave her a hug and stood to the side.

“By the look on your face, I’d say your partner keeps a damn good secret.” said Hedges.

The crowd chanted for Shawn to give a speech.

“Oh, you’re all an obnoxious bunch. Well, I don’t really have a family anymore, at least not until I joined the PD. And the last few months have been the greatest in a long time and that’s thanks to all of you. I know I have a lot to learn, and you’ve all been really patient. I love all you guys.”

The crowd clapped and Hedges spoke up. “Enough with the sentiment, now cut the damn cake, all right?”

The next day at the Knight Foundation, Michael was working alone in the garage. Devon came in holding a can. He set it down on the table. “It’s tri-clycoride-three.”

“Thanks.” said Michael. “You wanna talk about that ass you hired?”

“I did what I had to do to survive.” said Devon.

“C’mon, Devon, you’re not doing this for money, you never would.”

“Oh no, money isn’t the problem. We still have enough grant funding.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Research means nothing unless you can apply it, Michael. Now we can help this city, but the bureaucracy has stalled us for years. Russ Maddock deserves some credit for turning that around.”

“You promised me K.I.T.T.’s body.” said Michael.

“Yes, I did.” said Devon looking at the can, “I’m afraid he’s been recycled.”

Then a voice spoke up. A voice familiar to Michael and Devon. “Now that’s just wonderful.” said K.I.T.T. “You stick me in mothballs for nearly a decade, and then you sell off my parts like I’m inventory for Manny, Moe, and Jack.”

Devon laughed. “K.I.T.T., it’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

“I wish I could say the same, Devon, but one of my auditory units must lave landed in some kid’s walkie-talkie. Is that you, Michael?”

“Yeah.” said Michael, stunned.

“You look like crap.”

“Well so do you, pal.”

“At least I have an excuse. You obviously gone down the toilet since we split up, Michael. Get a life.”

“I got a life, and a body too, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Forget my body. Where’s my Random Access, or my Graphics Board. I can’t even play a round of PacMan in here.”

“You’re outdating yourself, buddy-boy. PacMan’s in the Smithsonian, now.”

“Probably an exhibit or two away from you.”

“At least some things haven’t changed.” said Devon.

Kurt and Shawn were working the night patrol when the call came in from the dispatcher.

“Attention, Adam 2020, code 17x in progress at Arnold Jewelers.”

Kurt sped up and turned on the siren.

The unit screeched to a halt in front of the mall.

“Drop in on the north exit!” yelled Kurt.

Shawn ran to where her partner directed her. She saw the robber emerge from the store. He fired two shots at her and ran.

“I’ve located suspect on north side of complex. Appears to be heading toward canal.” said Shawn. The chase continued. Shawn found a shortcut to the canal and hoped to head off the robber. The robber ran past just as she emerged from the dark alley. “FREEZE!” she yelled.

The robber fired again , but Shawn buzzed him with the ultrasound. She walked over to the stunned robber and picked up the gun. It was another 9 millimeter Weber. “Where’d you get this?” she asked. Suddenly, Shawn felt a gun to her neck. She glanced over. It was Watts. He took the gun and the ultrasound away from her.

“We meet again.” said Watts. “The Tower?”

The robber got up and stood next to Shawn. The robber took off his hat and mustache. It was Hedges. “You shouldn’t have picked up that gun McCormick.”

Shawn looked back over at Watts. “We can work this out.”

“Relax officer. Your off duty now.” Watts pointed the gun at Shawn’s head and pulled the trigger.

After Kurt found her, he called for an ambulance. When they got to the hospital, there was a big crowd of doctors around her. They wheeled her into a room and told Kurt he’d have to wait outside. Just then, Commissioner Daniels, Andrew, Strand, Hedges and other officers came in.

“Is she still alive?” asked Daniels.

“Barely.” replied Kurt.

Daniels walked into the room and walked up to Dr. Richard Glassman. “As a city employee, she’s turned her rights over to me.” said Daniels. “I’m authorizing you to read her RNA.”

“RNA is a risky procedure, there’s still a chance we can save her.” said Dr. Glassman.

“We have to find out who did this to her, Doctor.” said Daniels. “Believe me, she would want us to know.”

“Prepare for RNA transfer.” said Dr. Glassman.

The nurses wheeled Shawn into the RNA transfer room. They put her on a table and activated the scanner. Dr. Glassman sat at a monitor where an image of Shawn’s skull was being projected. The scanner found the trauma spot. “Spot.” said Dr. Glassman. “Insert probe one in Alphic Nerve. Two and three into hemispherical memory regions.” Dr. Glassman stepped into a room. Another doctor stepped up to a monitor. “Position probe.” he said. A robotic arm with a needle at the end started to move. This was probe one. It will be inserted through Shawn’s skull and into her Alphic Nerve, her main memory center. The RNA will be fed through the probe and onto Dr. Glassman’s monitor in hopes to find the shooter. The arm continued to move until it reached its final point. “Stand clear.” said Dr. Glassman. The probe began to move and it entered Shawn’s skull. “Probe insertion completed, Doctor.” said the doctor. The RNA transfer began.

The images on the screen were from Shawn’s third birthday party. It showed her as a young girl with all her friends and her dad celebrating. “Happy birthday, Shawn.” her dad said. After that, young Shawn blew out her candles and Kurt’s image appeared in the cake. “Happy birthday, Shawn.” said Kurt. Young Shawn just smiled, a little confused, but went on partying. After that, Shawn, at her normal age, was on a swing with a man of her dreams. “I love you.” she said. The image faded out and back into her birthday party from the previous day. It was at the end of her speech. “I love all you guys.”

Dr. Glassman came out. “Commissioner.” he said. “The injury appears to have destroyed a cluster patter in her cerebrum, in simple terms, she’s lost her most recent memory. But there is good news, the RNA confirmed that we can save her life by performing a fragmentary cerebral transplant, but of course I’ll need your authorization.”

“Doctor, may I speak to you in private?” asked Daniels.

Dr. Glassman and Commissioner Daniels were talking in his office.

“There is certifiable doubt on how she’ll function after this operation, if at all, isn’t that true?”

“Yes, there is always some incertitude with a procedure like this, but I’m extremely confident.”

“Have you performed one of these before?” asked Daniels

“No, but I’ve logged 90 hours on the surgical simulator. She’s a textbook case, perfect for me.” said Dr. Glassman.

Daniels paused for a moment. “I’m afraid I have no choice, but to decline.”

“Commissioner, what you’re saying, in effect, is to terminate life support.”

“Don’t think I feel the slightest bit good about this, Doctor. But our budget deficit is in the high seven figures. We literally cannot afford it. Based on the risk.”

“I am urging you to reconsider.”

“Your next career advancement will have to wait until the next victim rolls in, Doctor Glassman. My decision is final.”

Dr. Glassman walked into the operation room where the doctors and nurses were waiting for him. “We’re going on with the transplant.”

In an expensive building, Thomas Watts was having a meeting with members of the Metropolitan Police who were opposed to the gun ban. Strand, Hedges, Kurt, and other officers were in the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to expand. I, like you, believe in the constitutional right for all citizens to bear arms, but do the criminals? Self protection is a principle that this country was founded on, and I see nothing wrong with continuing that philosophy, while getting very, very rich, selling banned handguns on the black market. What about you?” he said as he put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“I don’t remember murder as part of our forefathers’ philosophy, Mr. Watts.” said Kurt.

“Oh, but an eye for an eye certainly was.” replied Watts.

“The former mayor was responsible for getting our handguns banned, Miller. The bad guys, they still have ‘em.” said Strand.

“Six of us have bought it already this year, all we can do is buzz ‘em back.” complained an officer.

“They told us the ban would help, they lied.” said Hedges.

“This is not about self-protection anymore! He shot one of our own at the Tower, Strand. How do you justify that?” said Kurt.

“That was unplanned,” said Watts, “and quite unfortunate.”

“Just like shootin’ my partner, right. That was never part of the deal.” said Kurt.

“Neither was her interference at the Tower.” said Watts.

“She did it to herself, Miller!” yelled Hedges.

“I planned on bringing her in event