BREACH
    By
    Adam Mazer, William Rotko and Billy Ray Story by Adam Mazer & William Rotko
    07/21/06
    /r\
    UNIVERSAL
    r
    This material is the property of UNIVERSAL PICTURES and is intended for use only by authorized personnel.Distribution or disclosure of this material to unauthorized persons is prohibited. The sale, copying,or reproductionof this material in any form or medium, in whole or in part, is strictly prohibited.
    FADE
    IN:
    . \*on ROBERT HANSSEN, eyes closed, at prayer.

INT. CHAPEL -
    NOON
    1
    He's on his knees, clutching a rosary while silently mouthing a Novena. (Religion runs bone-deep with this man.) We're in\*
    SLOW-MOTION,
    M.O. S.
    Ask people about him and the same words keep popping up: cold, arrogant, introverted, awkward... But you'll also hear\* brilliant, well-read, generous, old-fashioned, a mentor.
    \*
    We linger on his face, in profile; then he rises. TRACK HIM down the aisle of this gilded chapel to a pair of large wooden doors. He pushes them open, revealing:

INT. CATHOLIC INFORMATION CENTER -
    CONTINUING
    (NOON)
    A Catholic "Reading Roomil boasting pamphlets, tracts, the writings of the Pope, copies of a tome called "The Way." Weire still in SLOW-MO as Hanssen glides through, calmly. The STAFFERS here know him well; they like him. He nods to the NUN at the Cash Register, then opens two glass doors. . \*and the real world hits us like a jackhammer.

EXT. 16TH STREET -
    WASHINGTON
    NOON
    D. C.
    3
    Sounds suddenly assault us, in REAL-TIME: voices, stereos, horns, unnaturally loud. A coin-op news-stand SLAMS SHUT, revealing a FLORIDA RECOUNT headline. It's December 2000. Hanssen pauses, his ears offended by all this noise. He joins the weather-bundled crowd, vanishing down 16th Street.. \*

INT. HOTEL ROOM DAY 4 \*
    UNIDENTIFIED -
    We're TIGHT on a TAPE RECORDER as a cassette spins inside.\* From it, the voice of Robert Hanssen: \*
    we hear
    HANSSEN'S
    VOICE
    I shouldn't tease you. It just gets me into trouble.. \* But hear of him, CUT TO: \* that's all we as we

INT. UNIDENTIFIED SMALL CONFERENCE ROOM -
    DAY
    5
    We'll come to know this place as ROOM 9930. No windows, drab carpet. RICH GARCES looks it over. He's 45, friendly, stocky. Behind him, in a HALLWAY, is a crew of SIX CARPENTERS. He nods to them: go to work. They enter the conference room.

INTERCUT WITH/EXT. GEORGETOWN ALLEY -
    NIGHT
    6
    Snow falls on a VAGRANT ashe urinates against an alley wall: grimy clothes, matted hair, we can smell him from here. Beside him is a CART, packed with junk. He shivers, mumbling. Across the street is an Ethiopian restaurant. A LIBYAN MAN and his WIFE emerge from it, bickering. The Vagrant turns.. \*\*and, with a minimum of movement, extracts a CAMERA and a uge LOW-LIGHT LENS from his tattered overcoat. He saueezes off 24 shots of the arguing Libyan Couyle. Just like that. Then he pockets the roll of film, inserts another, and gets 24 more shots... until the Libyan Couple is gone. This "vagrant" is ERIC O'NEILL, 26, Orom the FBI's Special Surveillances Group. Smart, cocky, ambitious. But baby-faced. He vanishes around a corner like a ghost. -

INT. ROOM 9930 -
    RESUMING
    (DAY)
    The CONSTRUCTION CREW frames a WALL in the center of this conference room, turning it into a two-office SUITE. Garces looks on as ELECTRICIANS run wires through the wall-studs.

R-8 INT. SSG VAN -
    NIGHT
    TWO SSG GUYS wait inside a van: GEDDES and OLSEN. Eric bursts \*
    \*
    in, excited.
    ERIC \*
    \*
    I got Him and the wife. 'em.
    \*
    (shuts the door, pulls off his Vagrant \* costume)
    \*
    She can be turned; they were screamin at each other. We gotta \*
    \*
    tell the C-T guys.
    GEDDES \*
    Good. Good. \*
    The van takes off. Eric hands over two rolls of film. \*
    OLSEN \*
    of what they \*
    Did ya catch any were
    \*
    saying?
    ERIC \*
    of it, need \*
    I got some just gonna a
    \*
    translater.
    ERIC
    that) \*
    (Geddes notes I work the corner can outside their \* Me didn't make me. We \* apartment. \* should get over there now, while fighting. \* they're still And it \* Then Eric notices something - at Olsen's feet. stops
    \*
    him cold.
    ERIC \*
    \*
    oh.
    \*
    OLSEN
    \*
    (grim)
    \*
    Yeah.
    item in \* Eric leans forward and retrieves the question: entitled: FOR SUBJECT DATABASE \* It's a FILE, nPROPOSAL PREPARED BY ERIC O'NEILL."
    \*
    Plastic cover, great-loaking font. Hours were spent at
    hate that. \* Kinko's on this thing. Olsen and Geddes just
    ERIC \*
    for data \*
    It's a protocol - storing on
    \*
    our targets.
    \*
    OLSEN
    What we're unclear \* We got that part. is what it was doing on Gene's \* on
    \*
    desk?
    \*
    ERIC
    the chain, doesnit it? \* Has to go up
    \*
    GEDDES
    Eric. We're \* Nobody likes a show-off, to make agent \* all trying ya know? -:
    OLSEN \*
    five different \*
    Different-color tabs, fonts... You musta weekend at \* spent a Kinko's on this thing. \*
    \*
    ERIC
    it? \* Did you read
    OLSEN \*
    No. \*
    ERIC \*
    That's fcause both \*
    too bad... you're
    \*
    credited in there, by name.
    and Olsen almost blush. \* That changes everything. Geddes
    OLSEN
    Really?
    GEDDES
    Really?
    ERIC \*
    \*
    Yeah. Can we get over to that
    \*
    apartment now?
    Eric can do that to people - just disarm them when they least \*
    \*
    expect it.
    \*
    OLSEN
    \*
    Yeah. That's a good idea..
    \*
    End of conflict. The van rollS On..
    9-10 OMIT 9-10

INT. ROOM 9930 - RESUMING
    A LIPSTICK CAMERA and MICROPHONE are installed in an overhead VENT. Then a grill is screwed into place, obscuring them.. A HEAT SENSOR is placed inside a wall. Garces activates it with a REMOTE. Then it's covered by a sheet of dry-wall. A TV is also fitted with hidden MIC and LIPSTICK CAMERA. WORKMEN enter with huge roll a of carpet. Garces looks to a TECH who is just nowhiding a MOTION SENSOR and another MICROPHONE in a hollowed-out space in 9930's floor.. 12-18 \*: 12-18 OMIT
    GARAGE
    WITH/INT.
    DAY
    FBI
    19 INTERCUT - Hanssen from an elevator \* Canvas bag over a shoulder, emerges
    \*
    onto prime FBI real estate: an empty parking space "Reserved for Director L. Freeh." Hanssen eyes it as he passes by. \*
    20-25 \*: 20-25 OMIT
    HALLWAY
    INTERCUT
    OUTSIDE
    WITH/INT.
    25A - An ELECTRONIC COMBO LOCK is programmed into 9930's door. \* \*as Garces shuts the door and affixes a PLAQUE to the wall esiae it: "9930 - Robert Hanssen Special Asst. to- Asst. Director in Charge of Information Assurance Division."
    INT.
    MOMENTS LATER
    FBI
    26
    26 - At the far end of this garage, Hanssen stops at a Silver Ford Taurus in an unreserved space. To his right, two huge turbines whirl noisily, the building's ventilation system. He opens the Taurus' TRUNK. We peer over his back... to Oind an ARSENAL in there : a 9mm Distol a SUB MACHINE gun. and 400 rounds of ammunition, all covered in ylastic. his canvas bag atop the arsenal, then slams his He places trunk shut. 27-30A 27-30A

INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. - BEDROOM -
    MORNING
    (7A.M.)
    JULIANA O'NEILL sleeps on Eric's chest. She's 23, a beauty, German by birth. Her eyes open slowly... to find him studying a PROOFSHEET of the photos he took in that alley.
    JULIANA
    Are they terrorists?
    Eric breathes out a smile: he'd thought she was asleep.
    ERIC
    They're taroets, Honey. That's all I said, right?
    JULIANA
    Right. Sorry.
    ERIC
    Good girl.
    They share the world's coldest, dampest apartment, a BASEMENT really - (its window looks up at an alley outside.) A SPACE HEATER blows. A BROKEN RADIATOR gurgles. He kisses her.
    JULIAMA
    I dreamed I couldn't find my keys.
    ERIC
    They're behind the coffee-maker. You put them there when you came in from the market last night.
    JULIAA
    oh.
    By the bed we find A CITIZENSHIP WORKBOOK and a GERMAN- ENGLISH DICTIONARY and a book called "Parkinsons and the Family." (Handwritten notes peek out from between pages.) On a wall we find a framed portrait of Eric and his THREE BROTHERS, (two of them Naval officers) , flanking Juliana. Just then, we hear:
    THE
    Hello?
    LADY
    Hello?
    That was the LADY ONE FLIGHT UP, squawking at no one. (She does this around the clock.) Juliana, familiar with the sound, grumbles good-naturedly.
    ERIC
    It's like she's training a parrot.
    THE
    Hello?
    LADY
    Hello?
    ERIC
    Hey, Mom and Dad wanna take us to Mass today. You wanna go to Mass with me?
    JULIAUA
    I'd rather go to a movie.
    ERIC
    Me too..
    She leaves it alone, puts her head back on his chest. Eric mildly shaking his puts his focus back on that proofsheet... head, as if dissatisfied with something.
    JULIANA
    What?
    ERIC
    (re: proofsheet)
    I shoulda been one alley over. The light was better.
    JULIANA
    You're gonna be an agent.
    That was completely spontaneous, but said with absolute certainty. Eric just shrugs can't quite - agree.
    JULIANA
    Are the rest of those guys working as hard as you?
    ERIC
    or course.
    JULIANA
    I bet they aren't.
    Thereis lot a of love here. Juliana shuts her eyes. Eric runs a hand through her hair, his mind drifting, until:
    ERIC
    Say it again, okay?
    JULIANA
    Say what again?
    ERIC
    That I'm gonna be an agent.
    Juliana smiles. His ambition is so raw, so unapologetic..
    JULIANA
    You're gonna be an agent.
    He smiles, satisfied. Then the PHONE RINGS. Damn it.
    JULIANA
    Don't get it.
    He obliges. Their ANSWERING MACHINE picks up. Then:
    CONNORS' VOICE
    Get
    CTHRUMACHINE)
    dressed.
    Eric grabs the phone in an instant.
    ERIC
    To
    CINTO PHONE)
    where?
    CONNORS
    They'll We're
    CTHRUPHONE)
    explain at due
    ERIC
    On a
    CINTO PHONE)
    Sunday?

EXT. FBI WASHINGTON FIELD OFFICE - ESTABLISHING -
    DAY
    32
    The WFO is sunlit, modern. Eight stories high, at 4th and F. 33 INT. WASH. FIELD OFFICE ( "WFO'i) -
    SMALL CONF.
    DAY
    ROOM
    33
    A thin FILE slides into frame. Hanssenis PHOTO is inside. Eric, coat and tie now, eyes it. Connors sits beside him.
    KATE (O. S.)
    I'll get right to it if ya don't mind.
    KATE BURROUGHS sits opposite them. She has short hair, a Jersey accent, and the vulnerability of a tank. Wears low heels and hose. Her rank is Special Agent.
    KATE
    You're being tasked to Headquarters, where you're going to ride the desk of an agent named Robert Hanssen. Do you know him?
    ERIC
    No.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN HOME - STAIRS - MORNING
    Weire right behind Hanssen as he descends the stairs, dressed for work. (Welve time-cut to Monday morning). We hear:
    KATE (V.O.)
    Former headof the Bureau's Soviet Analytical Unit, considered our most knowledgeable analyst on Russian Intel. Last six years he's been our liaison at the State Department monitoring the whereabouts of every Russian Intelligence Officer in D. C.

INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    CONTINUING
    35
    GREG, (17, in a school uniform) , is just finishing breakfast. 30, handing off her INFANT BOY to.. \* JANE, is also here, .BONNIEr Hanssen's wife of 32 years. She's a buttoned-down\* eauty - never had plastic surgery, never needed it. \*
    JANE
    Sure you don't mind, Mom?
    BONNIE
    Mind? Itis a treat!
    Hanssen enters the kitchen, grabs his keys, kisses the baby.
    KATE (V.O.)
    We're bringing him back to HQ to start our new Information Assurance Division, safeguarding the Bureau's I.T. system from cyberterrorism and infiltration.
    Sunday, the Hanssens' dog, breezes through. Hanssen breathes out a laugh at the sight of him, then heads for the door.

INT. WFO - SMALL CONF. ROOM -
    RESUMING
    36
    Eric looks through the file.
    ERIC
    Wait. I've heard about this guy. Was he the one who hacked into another ggentis hgrd-driye?
    KATE
    Heis the best computer guy weive got.
    (Eric nods)
    He's also a sexual deviant.
    ERIC
    oh.
    ROOM
    37
    FLASHBACK
    INTERCUT
    Again, we're tight on that CASSETTE PLAYER.
    HANSSEN'S
    I shouldn't me into
    VOICE
    tease trouble..
    KATE (V.O.)
    He's been posting on the Internet. Lurid material.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN'S TAURUS -
    MORNING
    38
    Hanssen sits in his car on the shoulder of a suburban road beside NOTTOWAY PARK. He makes a note on a PALM PILOT.
    KATE (V.O.)
    There are also some complaints in his file from female subordinates. You're going to keep an eye on him for us.

INT. WFO - SMALL CONF. ROOM -
    RESUMING
    39
    Eric hates this task already.
    ERIC
    You have a FISA Warrant?
    KATE
    or course.
    ERIC
    Do I get a cover?
    KATE
    God, no. Hanssen would peel it away in a day. He spent the last twenty years out-thinking Russian spies.
    ERIC
    . \*and jerking off under his desk.
    That was a test, to see if Kate is easily thrown.
    KATE
    Ya wanna duck down there and scrape for samples, Oeel free.
    So much for throwing her. .But Eric's distaste for all this remains.
    KATE
    Just ya know, nobody around
    so here likes the idea of embarrassing a guy who's done 25 years of service... But we have reason to believe there are other agents involved in this as well shared postings, et cetera. If that's true, it could mean a huge embarrassment to the Bureau.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    EARLY
    MORNING
    Eric stands in the doorway, dressed for Day One. We note the PAGER on his hip. Juliana's at their formica table.
    KATE
    A few can
    CCONT'D, V.O.)
    rules: know about this.
    wife. You've got a new works in Information your boss; his name is Hanssen; he Assurance. works in Information Assurance. That's it. Juliana looks up from her CITIZENSHIP WORKBOOK... as we hear
    \*
    Eric's reply to Kate:
    ERIC (V.O.)
    I understand.
    8TH
    WITH/EXT.
    STREET
    D. C.
    41 INTERCUT - Eric walks up 8th St., which is dotted by HOMELESS PEOPLE and POTHOLES. He's in a winter coat, carrying a worn gym bag.
    KATE (V.O.)
    Second. You'll be serving at the needs of the Bureau, answerable to me at all times. I hope that's clear.
    (HEADLINES blare from news-stands; "W. Assembling His Team." "Ashcroft Facing Confirmation Fight." It's January, 2001.)
    -:
    MORNING
    42
    42
    INTERCUT
    Eric from below. Before him is the Navy Memorial. emerges
    KATE
    This 24/7. and
    (V.O.,
    pager If it's a

INTERCUT WITH/EXT. FBI HQ -
    PLAZA -:
    MORNING
    43
    A huge building, occupying a block on Pennsylvania Avenue. Eric through an OUTDOOR PLAZA. There's a fountain passes here, and a quote from J. Edgar Hoover inscribed on a wall.
    KATE
    You'll that
    (V.O.,
    keep goes on
    FBI HQ iiESCORT DESK" - SAME 44
    INTERCUT
    44
    WITH/INT.
    Behind a glass case are photos of every FBI agent who's ever died in the line of duty. From Edwin C. Shanahan (1925) thru Charles Reed (1996). Heroes, martyrs, patriots..
    Eric stands at the "Escort Desk." A CIVIL SERVANT behind bullet-proof glass hands him an I.D. BADGE.
    CIVIL
    Know
    SERVANT
    where
    ERIC
    I think SO.
    Civil Servant just smiles a knowing smile.
    KATE (V.O.)
    Who he talks to, who he calls -
    no detail is insignificant. Got that?

INT. WFO -
    SMALL
    RESUMING
    CONF.
    45
    Her job done, Kate rises.
    KATE
    Good. Gene can fill you in on the rest. Thanks for coming in.
    She turns, almost gone... when Eric just has to ask:
    ERIC
    Agent Burroughs?
    KATE
    Yes?
    ERIC
    Is this high-priority?
    (Kate's silent)
    We've been ghosting some priority targets lately. C-T targets. If I'm being pulled off of that, I just wanna make sure it's..
    KATE
    In other words, you wanna know if this is gonna fast-track you into becoming an agent.
    (Eric blanches)
    Gene tells me you're confident, bordering on cocky... He also says you can park it when necessary.
    ERIC
    Yes, Ma'am.
    KATE
    Enjoy your Sunday.
    And out she goes. END INTERCUT. We are:

INT. FBI HQ -
    CORRIDOR -:
    MORNING
    46
    Welcome to the single most confusing structure on earth. Eric stares down two identical corridors that shear off from one another at a 45 degree angle. Yellowish lights overhead, not a window in sight. A maze of intrigue.. Sitting outside several offices are PALLETS piled high with boxes of NEW COMPUTERS. They're everywhere. And Eric is lost. The numbers on the doors make no sense.

INT. FBI HQ -
    7TH
    ANOTHER
    FLOOR
    CORRIDOR
    MORNING
    47
    on the floor. More identical doors. On a wall, More pallets behind glass, a POSTER lists all of the FBI SPECIAL BADGES. A posted FLIER congratulates a secretary on her impending retirement. Her Party is next Friday. Cake and Cookies. Eric drifts along until he spots a familiar name on the NAMEPLATE beside a door: "Louis Freeh. Director."
    PASSING
    Can
    UNNAMED AGENT
    I
    Eric turns. The look from this AGENT (50, heavyset), tells us this is restricted air-space. Eric sags, embarrassed.
    ERIC
    How do I get to the Ninth floor?

INT. FBI HQ -
    9TH
    GARCES'S OFFICE
    FLOOR
    -
    MOMENTS LATER
    48
    Garces slides an I.D. BADGE across a desk toward Eric. A window looks out on D. C.
    GARCES
    Okay. This is the code to the combo lock. This is the code Oor the key punch. And this is the badge for the security pad. You're all set.
    Posters on the wall warn of the dangers of cyberterrorism. Eric eyes them, not quite ready to leave yet.
    ERIC
    Sir... do you know Agent Hanssen?
    GARCES
    Alittle.
    ERIC
    Is there anything you can tell me about him?
    GARCES
    What would you like to know?
    ERIC
    Anything that'd help me do my job better, I guess.
    GARCES
    Sure... Take nothing personally.
    Garces conceals a grin..

INT. FBI HQ - CORRIDOR -
    OUTSIDE
    9930
    On the of 9930 now is a sign door identifying this as a SCIF: (SENSITIVE COMPARTMENTALIZED INFO FACILITY). Eric eyes the sign, and the plaque with Hanssen's name and title on it. Then he swipes his badge, works a combo lock, punches numbers into a keypad. THREE BEEPS emanate. And he's in.

INT. FBI HQ -
    ROOM 9930 -:
    CONTINUING
    50
    We saw this suite being constructed: an outer office with a desk, chair, computer, file cabinets. And an inner office. No windows. The door closes hard behind Eric; it's like being sealed into a BANK VAULT, or an air-lock. He crosses to his new desk, sets down his gym bag, sits. .\*and is greeted with a loud CREEEEAK. The springs in this chair must be a hundred years old. He sits forward. The chair creaks again, annoying as hell. On the desk is an old IBM 350 computer. He flips it On. It to life. Beside it is a MANUAL: "OPERATING THE ACS groans (Automated Case Support System) " Eric . opens it. Then he hears those same THREE BEEPS coming from the SCIF Door. 9 a.m. on the dot. The door opens.. \* \*and Hanssen enters, carrying his canvas briefcase and two
    ARDBOARD
    BOXES. (Today is his moving-in day too.)
    He pauses, regarding Eric in silence... Then that chair CREAKS again and Hanssen's mind becomes painfully easy to read: "Who is this moron they put on my desk?" Hanssen can do that to you, just paralyze you with a look of withering disdain. Silence hangs, until Eric gathers himself:
    ERIC
    Good Morning.
    HANSSEN
    Tell me five things about yourself, four of them true.
    Wait. What'd he just say?
    ERIC
    I'm sorry?
    HANSSEN
    Game we used to play in the Soviet Analytical Unit to keep ourselves sharp. Lie detection.
    ERIC
    Oh, I don't think I'd be much good at bluffing.
    HANSSEN
    That would've counted as your lie, right there.
    With that, Hanssen ducks into his private office and shuts the door. Eric eyes it.

INT. FBI HQ - ROOM 9930 -
    LATER
    MORNING
    Eric sits, disassembling the MOTHERBOARD of that old IBM. (He unclips the RAM WAFER from its housing. It has an ounce of DUST on it.) Each time he moves, his chair CREAKS again. Hanssen emerges from his office, bearing an EMPTY WATER PITCHER. He pauses, eyes Eric, then spots something offensive on Eric's desk... and makes a bee-line for it: Eric braces himself... as Hanssen grabs that ACS MANUAL off the desk, and tosses it into a trash can without ceremony.
    HANSSEN
    I'm going to be re-inventing how the Bureau stores case information. Didn't anybody tell you that?
    ..and Hanssen exits the SCIF. Just like that. A long beat - Eric waiting until itis safe. Then he rises.

INT. ROOM 9930 -
    HANSSEN'S
    CONTINUING
    OFFICE
    52
    It's dark in here, shadowy. (The flourescents overhead have been turned off; a DESK LAMP provides the only light.) Eric flips on the overhead light, revealing: PHOTOS of Bonnie, SIX CHILDREN, five GRANDCHILDREN. A CRUCIFIX over the desk. A framed virgin Mary. And books: The Catechism of the Catholic Church, The Bible, The Way. There's a TV MONITOR in here. It will always be On. And it will always have the same image on it: a LIVE FEED SECURITY- CAM POV from the Corridor outside 9930. Eric eyes it, a bit unsettled... until he sees Hanssen himself on the screen - emerging from a Men's Room and approaching 9930. Shit. Eric snaps the overhead light off, rushes back to his desk.

52A INT. 9930 - AT ERIC'S DESK -
    CONTINUING
    52A
    He sits. Another loud CREEEEEAK. He hears the THREE BEEPS at the SCIF door. It opens.. Here's Hanssen again, his water pitcher filled. He hovers in the doorway, staring. And clicking a fat blue PILOT DR.-GRIP pen, repeatedly. Clicking, twirling... until Eric can't bear it any longer:
    ERIC
    Antiquated machine.
    HANSSEN
    There are pallets of new computers in every corridor of this building. why don't you go get one?
    ERIC
    Okay. I'll fill out a req form..
    HANSSEN
    You're not listening; go get one. Req
    forms are for bureaucrats. (Eric rises...) Actually, get two. That dinosaur on my desk is useless to me.
    ERIC
    Agent Hanssen, my name is Eric.
    HANSSEN
    No. Your name is Clerk.
    (Eric reacts)
    My name is "sir." Or "Boss," if you
    can manage.
    ERIC
    Yes, Sir.
    HANSSEN
    And if I ever catch you in my office
    again, you'll be pissing purple for a week. He ducks into his office, shuts his door. Eric stares at it.

INT. FBI HQ - 7TH FLOOR - CORRIDOR -
    DAY
    53
    Eric approaches oneof those unguarded PALLETS, piled high with boxed DELL COMPUTERS, cello-wrapped. Agents pass by, their ID badges bouncing. Eric ignores them, trying to look like he's supposed to be here. He pulls out a pocket knife, shears through some cello-wrap.
    PASSING
    You
    SECRETARY
    must
    Eric turns, alarmed. That was a PASSING SECRETARY.
    PASSING
    I
    SECRETARY
    ordered
    Eric smiles thinly, shrugs. The Secretary breezes by.

INT. FBI HQ -
    ROOM 9930 -:
    MINUTES
    LATER
    Eric enters, carrying a brand new DELL. Here's what he sees: Hanssen, standing on his own desk. He has pulled a CEILING PANEL loose and is now hunting through the empty overhead space. On his hiked pantleg we see a. 38 in an ANKLE HOLSTER.
    ERIC
    Sir? Sir, you could fall.
    HANSSEN
    I won't fall. I'm very co-ordinated.
    Hanssen drops down, as Eric unloads the new computer.
    HANSSEN
    Trying to re-route a phone line, to get Internet access.
    ERIC
    I can get an I.T. guy in here to do that for you, Sir.
    HANSSEN
    My Lord, you are dumb as a bag of hammers, arenit you?
    (Eric's silent)
    Yes, let's bring in an I.T. guy making 35, 000 dollars a year and give him access to hard drives that a foreign agent would pay millions for.
    (Eric nods, chagrinned)
    HANSSEN
    We're supposed to be protecting the Bureau from electronic infiltration.
    Hanssen's PALM PILOT is on the desk. He shoves it into his canvas bag, as:
    ERIC
    (casually)
    What kind of sites do you like?
    (no reply)
    On the Internet. Are there sites you like to--
    HANSSEN
    why?
    ERIC
    Just... never saw anybody climb on top of a desk to get on-line before.
    HANSSEN
    Do you pray the Rosary every day?
    Another curveball. Eric reacts, thrown..
    MANSSEN
    Your file says you prepped at Gonzaga
    with the Jesuits.
    ERIC
    That's right. I did.
    HANSSEN
    S0?
    (Eric's a blank)
    Do you? Pray the rosary every day?
    ERIC
    Not every day, nO.
    HANSSEN
    You should.
    Eric tightens - just has to find a way to get his balance back around this guy.
    ERIC
    You still want my list, Sir? The five things?
    Hanssen grins, amused. Then he takes a fat blue PEN from his breast pocket (a PILOT DR.-GRIP) And begins clicking and twirling it. Again and again.
    HANSSEN
    These the greatest
    are pens in the world. I would never write with anything else. Eric waits... until Hanssen gives him the go-ahead:
    HANSSEN
    Sure.
    Eric doesn't hesitate, just launches:
    ERIC
    I won Merit
    Boy Scout Badges in every category except Riflery. I haven't been to Confession since high school. There are several words I constantly misspell. My favorite drink is a Vodka Tonic. And I'm the only male in the last four generations of my family who hasnit served in the military. Eric waits, pleased with himself. But:
    HANS SEN
    What jl Your drink then? Gin?
    ERIC
    (tries not to sag)
    Scotch.
    HANS SEN
    It's against Bureau policy for an Agent to consume alcohol, off- even duty did you know that?
    - because - an FBI Agent is never off-duty. (Eric pauses, thrown) That comes from Director Freeh. We attend the same church. Who's the pager for? Wait. He means the PAGER Eric got from Kate. Eric hangs on.
    ERIC
    My wife. She likes to know she can get a hold of me 24/7.
    HANSSEN
    Hmmm.
    (a beat)
    Catholic girl?
    ERIC
    Oh. No. Sort of a lapsed Protestant, actually; she's East German. Big fan of Christmas plays, though.
    HANSSEN
    Have to do something about that, won't we?
    They eye one another. On Eric, we DISSOLVE TO.

INT. FBI HQ -
    8:30
    P.M.
    Working late, Eric dollies an unwanted FILE CABINET out of Hanssen's office. Hanssen's new Dell sits on the desk. Eric stops... and eyes the computer. There's no one around. He turns the computer on. The screen glows to life, a green field reading "FBI NET" , with a command for a PASSWORD. Eric looks to the door. Nothing. He looks to Hanssen's TV MONITOR: that security-cam POV of the corridor outside 9930. The corridor is empty. Relax, the guy left hours ago. Eric types in a password... and HANSSEN'S PHONE RINGS, startling the hell out of us. Eric grabs it.
    ERIC
    Supervisory
    CINTO PHONE)
    Special Agent Hanssen's
    office.
    HANSSEN CTHRUPHONE)
    Hang up the phone.
    Hanssen, calling from a land line. Eric winces.
    ERIC
    I'm
    CINTO PHONE)
    sorry?
    HANSSEN (THRU PHONE)
    That is an unnacceptable greeting. Hang up the phone.
    CLICK. Eric pauses, unsettled. Hangs up the phone. It RINGS AGAIN. Eric eyes it, grabs it:
    ERIC
    Information
    (INTO
    Assurance
    HANSSEN (THRU PHONE)
    Good Lord.
    CLICK. Eric tightens... and the phone RINGS once more.
    ERIC
    Is
    CINTO PHONE)
    there
    Sir?
    HANSSEN
    Yes.
    CTHRUPHONE)
    You
    can how to answer my phone properly. i'Section Chief Robert i) Hanssen.
    ERIC
    Sir, were Assistant
    CINTO PHONE)
    my understanding Special Director
    HANSSEN
    I will
    CTHRUPHONE)
    function address
    ERIC
    Yes,
    CINTO PHONE)
    Sir.
    HANSSEN (THRU PHONE)
    I also want it changed on the plate
    outside the door.
    ERIC
    Sir, clear
    CINTO PHONE)
    I'm that
    HANSSEN
    Don't
    CTHRUPHONE)
    bother.
    standards. I have mine. Eric is about to respond, when:
    HANSSEN
    Wait. Why don't I hear your chair creaking?
    Eric freezes, almost afraid to breathe.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    CINTO PHONE)
    HANSSEN
    Are
    CTHRUPHONE)
    you
    How the hell is he always so far ahead of me. ?
    ERIC
    Yes,
    CINTO PHONE)
    Sir.
    cabinet when the phone rang. A beat. Eric hears the static of a cel-phone..
    ERIC
    Sir?
    CINTO PHONE,
    HANSSEN
    I
    CTHRUPHONE)
    have
    ERIC
    Sir.
    CINTO PHONE)
    I'm
    HANSSEN
    That's
    CTHRUPHONE)
    a
    CLICK. It's been a tense day. 56 OMIT 56 \*

56A INT. ERIC & JULIANA' S APT. -
    LATER
    NIGHT
    The bedroom door is shut. The tiny apartment is still. Eric sits at the kitchen table, transcribing his HANDWRITTEN NOTES from the day on to his LAP-TOP: We read over his shoulder: a few Hanssen quotes, verbatim.
    "
    Also a few observations: "Threw out ACS Manual. 'iBrought his water pitcher to and from the Men's Room several times."
    Then we hear a CEL-PHONE RING, coming from Eric's GYM BAG. He fishes for the phone, grabs it.
    ERIC
    This
    CINTO CEL)
    is
    KATE
    Is
    CTHRUCEL)
    your
    ERIC
    Huh?
    CINTO CEL)
    57 INTERCUT WITH/INT. METRO STATION -
    SAME
    57
    Kate descends a Metro ESCALATOR, on a cel-phone:
    KATE
    Last into
    CINTO CEL)
    I looked, the case.
    ERIC
    No.
    CINTO CEL)
    KATE
    Good.
    CINTO CEL)
    Where're
    ERIC
    I
    CINTO CEL)
    just
    'til ten o'clock.
    KATE
    (unimpressed)
    CINTO CEL)
    Uh-huh.
    A beat. He doesn't like this lady too much.
    ERIC
    Hey, to be looking not like hookers
    CINTO CEL)
    don't I know what I'm for with he's gonna bring through
    KATE
    Just
    CINTO CEL)
    get
    She snaps the phone shut before Eric can reply. NIGHTS7AA \*:

57AA INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN HOME - MASTER BEDROOM -
    Bonnie kneels by her bed, beneath a CRUCIFIX. She prays in \* whispers, herself, \* then crosses as:
    \*
    HANSSEN (O. S.)
    \*
    Bonnie Wauck.
    in his face. \* Bonnie turns: Hanssen's the doorway, a grin on
    BONNIE \*
    Hanssen. \*
    Bobby Even after 32 years, he still makes her blush. They kiss, and \* drift out of frame. We linger on the MIRRORED ARMOIRE by \* Pictures of their CHILDREN and GRANDCMILDREN. \* their bed.

57A INT. ERIC AND JULIANA'S APT. -
    7 A.M.
    57A
    It's early, but Juliana's awake laying out- Eric's CLOTHES for today. She lays two ties against a shirt. Eric's awake too... and wondering whether or not he wants to reveal something. We're TIGHT on him.
    ERIC
    He doesn't think too much of me.
    JULIANA
    No?
    ERIC
    No.
    He sits up, faces her.
    ERIC
    There're a couple people like that, at work. They think lim a.. lightweight, I guess.
    He looks like a kid just now. She touches his face.
    JULIANA
    They don't know you.
    He considers that, then:
    ERIC
    Maybe they do.
    That's all he'll say. We leave them here, cutting to:

57AA INT. FBI HQ -
    NINTH
    MORNING
    FLOOR CORRIDOR
    57AA
    TWO CUSTODIANS take down framed portraits of Bill Clinton and Janet Reno, replacing them with portraits of George W. Bush and John Ashcroft. We look down this long corridor. Itis quiet.

INT. FBI HQ - ROOM 9930 -
    SAME
    58
    Eric tightens a screw on a new, NON-SQUEAKING CHAIR, as we hear those THREE BEEPS at the SCIF door.. Hanssen enters, in his usual uniform: dark suit, red tie. Oddly, today he's carrying a cheap-looking ROWING MACHINE.
    ERIC
    Morning, sir.
    HANSSEN
    Morning.
    Hanssen approaches... and Eric tightens: What kind of hoops will I be jumping through today?
    HANSSEN
    This is very good work.
    From his canvas bag, Hanssen drops a 50-page DOCUMENT on " Prooosal Eric's desk. Itis the Kinko's-perfect for New SSG Subiect Database System" that Eric wrote. But how did Hanssen get it? Eric just stares for a moment.
    ERIC
    Sir, when did you--?
    HANSSEN
    It was ignored, I'm SUfe.
    Hanssen tosses a PACKAGE into an OUT-BOX: manila a envelope addressed to a "Jack Hoschouer" in Bonn, Germany. He notes the dog-eared PARKINSONiS BOOK on Eric's desk.
    ERIC
    Yes, Sir.
    HANSSEN
    That's because you don't shoot.
    On Eric's reaction, we CUT TO:

INT. FBI HQ - LEVEL 1 - CORRIDOR - DAY
    This used to be the Reception Area for the FBI TOUR. Now the Bureau's discards have been shoved here: old vcr's, half- desks, used curtains. The lighting is shadowy. We hear:
    HANSSEN (O. S.)
    The FBI is a gun-culture. You canit advance here unless you're part of it.
    Eric and Hanssen walk past, as we learn something else that's odd about Hanssen: he walks at an angle, as if his gyros were
    I
    off , cutting into Eric s vath comvletely.
    HANSSEN
    Every Director in the history of the Bureau has been from the Law Enforcement side: guys who shoot, guys who make arrests.
    Eric has to adjust his strides to keep from being walked into a wall. But Hanssen has no awareness of it at all.
    HANSSEN
    There's never been a Director from the Intel side. Never will be. Intel is Siberia, the "rubber-gun" squad.
    ERIC
    (trying not to trip)
    So why'd you stay?
    Hanssen nearly walks Eric into a water fountain..
    ERIC
    All those years. why didn't you transfer into something with a higher profile?
    HANSSEN
    Because I didn't care about making headlines. I wanted to make History.
    (that landed)
    The people Intel
    tracks are the ones who wanna wipe America off the map. Somehow, that always meant a little more to me than chasing bank robbers. Whyire you reading about Parkinson's? They come to a stop at a BANK OF ELEVATORS, just in time for Eric to react to the change-up he's just been thrown.
    ERIC
    My mother. For a few years now.
    HANSSEN
    Oh. I'm very sorry to hear that.
    Eric studies him for a hint of sarcasm, or maybe another test... but that was sincere. An ELEVATOR OPENS. Inside is a LOCAL-TV-NEWS-CREW: a CAMERAMAN, a male PRODUCER... and a BEAUTIFUL REPORTER. (She's 30, brunette, smoky eyes, in a great-looking pant-suit.) Eric turns, eager to see Hanssen's reaction to her.. Yet Hanssen doesn't react at all, doesn't even look. He just enters the elevator. Eric follows.

INT. FBI HQ -
    ELEVATOR
    CONTINUING
    -
    60
    Hanssen hits a button, eyes forward.
    BEAUTIFUL
    Good Morning.
    REPORTER
    HANSSEN
    (tight)
    Morning.
    The doors close. They descend in silence. A long beat.
    ERIC
    Oh, I forgot to mention, Sir: we got a call from Photo, for a portrait- sitting. You're going up on the "25 Years of Service" Wall.
    HANSSEN
    Imagine that.
    The elevator stops.

60A INT. FBI HQ -
    LEVEL B-l -
    CONTINUING
    60A
    The NEWS-CREW exits, that Beautiful Reporter drifting around a corner. Hanssen hits the door-close button. We remain inside the elevator as the doors close descending: -
    ERIC
    Beautiful woman.
    HANS SEN
    You're married.
    ERIC
    I can look, can't I?
    HANSSEN
    God expects you to live your faith, Eric. At all times. Besides, I disapprove of women in pant-suits.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    HANSSEN
    Men wear pants. The world doesnit need any more Hillary Clintons.
    Eric pauses, certain Hanssen's kidding... No such luck.

INT. FBI HQ -
    DATA
    LEVEL
    CENTER
    B-2
    DAY
    61
    A huge subterranean room: computers, mainframes, servers of different makes and sizes - manned by PROGRAMMERS. Hanssen stands dead-center, very much unimpressed. To his left is Rich Garces.
    HANSSEN
    I wrote aprogram last night using nothing but ones and zeroes, just to see if I could do it. 612 bits of encryption, completely unbreakable.
    (Garces nods)
    But you get the office with the window.
    Eric can't believe Hanssen would say that to a superior. But Garces's unoffended.
    GARCES
    Okay. Help us. What do we do?
    Hanssen sighs, jiggles his keys... then he launches:
    HANSSEN
    First drop ACS, which
    we is a relic, not nearly enough band-width. That's why youive got agents who still keep sensitive information in cardboard boxes. We need to move to an ATM system instead of the WAN. An OC-48 with a data rate of 2. 488 Megabips. Start with Linux A-B servers, which puts us into Red hat. IP routers throughout the building. Dynamic i.p. addresses to hide the system, using the Invicta prototype with anexternal internet connection. Would it be easier if I put this in a memo?
    GARCES
    Yeah.
    HANS SEN
    Fine. On your desk in the morning.
    (at Eric)
    You're going to set up meetings for me with the appropriate systems managers at the CIA, DIA, NSA, and the intel agencies of each armed service. They're all ahead of us on I.T. ; we have to study them.
    ERIC
    Yes, Sir.
    Eric makes a note of it, but:
    GARCES
    Uh... ya mind iO we book those appointments through me, Bob?
    HANSSEN
    What for?
    GARCES
    Just protocol.
    HANSSEN
    Of COUFSe... And then we switch offices, right?
    Garces and Eric eye Hanssen. Can't tell if he's kidding.

INT. FBI HQ -
    LEVEL
    CORRIDOR
    1
    -
    MOMENTS LATER
    62
    Eric and Hanssen emerge from an elevator. When Hanssen is agitated like this, his gyro-less walk is even more pronounced, literally wedging Eric sideways now.
    HANSSEN
    Perfect. fighting
    We're crime with 19th century technology and he's worried about protocol. (Eric nods) You set up those meetings. Leave it up to him and they'll never happen.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    HANSSEN
    That was turf protection you just watched in there didn't you see it? -
    Organizational arrogance: No, we don 't wanna learn anything from the CIA; we want the CIA answering to us.
    They pass by a door. It has THREE SIGNS on it: "Sensitive Compartmentalized Information Facility," "Restricted Access Area," "Authorized Personnel Only." Hanssen angle-walks past it, Eric struggling to dodge a wall.
    HANSSEN
    What's going on behind that door, do you know?
    ERIC
    No, Sir.
    HANS SEN
    Analysts, looking for a spy inside the Intelligence Community highest
    -
    clearance. But there aren't any CIA Officers in there. Know why? Because it's a CIA Officer we're trying to build a case against. Could the mole be someone from the Bureau and not the CIA? Of course. Are we actively pursuing that possibility? or course not! Because we're the Bureau, and the Bureau knows all. Knock on the door someday, ask them if they're planning to share their files with the Agency. Know what they'll tell you' uCo-operation is counter-
    "
    operational That's the mentality.
    (keeps walking, spouting)
    The enemies of this country aren't so picky. They'll work with anyone who shares their hatred of us. Bureau hasn't learned that lesson yet.
    At last he STOPS, at a water fountain, and changes gears:
    HANSSEN
    He keeps some paintings in a conference room on eight. I want you to get one of them for me.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    HANS SEN
    Two men on a boat. I want it.
    Eric runs that through his head, no idea how to respond.
    ERIC
    Wait. You mean Agent Garces? These're his paintings?
    HANSSEN
    Stop thinking like a clerk, they're sitting in storage!
    (Eric's at a loss)
    Two guys on a boat.
    63-68 OMIT 63-68 \*

INT. ERIC AND JULIANA'S APT. -
    MORNING
    69
    Juliana cooks some eggs. It's FREEZING in here. Eric, dressed for work, writes out a small NOTE to himself: i'Linux/Red Hat - problems : 1) training issues 2) password keysi'
    JULIANA
    I'm thinking about changing my major.
    ERIC
    Huh?
    The bADY UPSTAIRS squawks "Hello? Hello?" Eric, his focus total, adds to the note: "3) redundant systems."
    ERIC
    Did you say something, Honey?
    JULIANA
    We can talk about it later.
    He leans in, kisses her goodbye.

EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    MOMENTS LATER
    70
    He emerges from the building - zipping up his jacket, putting that note in his back pocket... then he STOPS: Here's Hanssen, ten feet away, leaning on his Silver Taurus.
    HANS SEN
    Do you know why the Soviet Empire collapsed?
    u Not iiHello NOt i'Sorry to surprise you like this." No, the guy just jingles the change in his pocket, waiting.
    ERIC
    'iGood Morningii,
    HANS SEN
    I made a career studying them. They were smarter than us, more devious, more determined. why did they fail?
    Eric hesitates, this is all so odd.
    HANSSEN
    Godlessness. Atheism. I'm on my way to Morning Mass. You do remember what Mass is, yes? The Jesuits at Gonzaga taught you that much, didn't they?
    ERIC
    Sir, my grandfather was a Deacon.
    HANSSEN
    Congratulations. Now it's time to join the Varsity.
    Hanssen opens the car door.. 71 REVERSE ANGLE - FRONT DOOR OF THE APT. BUILDING -
    SAME
    71
    Juliana, visible through a tiny window in the building's front door, watches Hanssen's Taurus vanish down the street.

INT. CATHOLIC INFORMATION CENTER -
    MOMENTS LATER
    72
    We've seen this READING ROOM before. Behind it is the CHAPEL where we first met Hanssen. Eric eyes stacks of Catholic reading material: A Voting Guide for Serious Catholics, The Pope 's Writings on Reproduction.. And a pamphlet called "THE PRELATURE OF OPUS DEI. i)
    HANS SEN
    Saw a woman from Planned Parenthood on television this morning a -
    lesbian, naturally. Defending gay marriage. I almost ripped the cable out of the wall.
    ERIC
    Bet she was wearing pants, huh?
    Hanssen almost smiles. Almost.
    HANSSEN
    Will your children be Jesuit-taught, as you were?
    ERIC
    Don't know yet. That conversation's still years away.
    HANS SEN
    It shouldn't be.
    ERIC
    I'm a GS-11, Sir. We need a second salary before we can start having-
    HANSSEN
    Whatis money compared with the blessings of family?
    Eric considers that, as the MANAGER passes by.
    MANAGER
    Good to see you, Bob.
    Hanssen smiles back, very much at home in this place, as Eric eyes a pamphlet called "Seeking Holiness in Daily Life." Truth is, he feels comfortable in here.
    HANSSEN
    It my wife
    was who first brought me here. Bonnie. I was a Lutheran when we met, and not much of one. She saved my life.. Before Eric can reply, Hanssen pushes open a pair of large doors, revealing the CHAPEL.
    HANSSEN
    Come.

INT. CHAPEL -
    CONTINUING
    73
    It's beautiful in here. Shafts of light pour in through stained glass. Hanssen breathes it in, hushed. Eric too.
    HANSSEN
    Without God life would be terrifying, wouldn't it? Unlivable darkness.'
    (Eric nods)
    That's why I come here, every day to remind myself of the things that matter.
    Eric kneels, crosses himself, whispers an audible prayer. Hanssen - who's been watching - nods, satisfied.
    HANSSEN
    What are they for you? Do you know yet?
    (Eric doesn't understand)
    The things that matter, in your core.
    In a House of God, that's a loaded question..
    ERIC
    My faith. My family.
    (laughs at himself)
    Becoming an agent.
    HANSSEN
    ..and your country.
    ERIC
    or course. Yes.
    HANSSEN
    Those are the three: faith, family, country. Take care of them and the agent part will take care of it itself.
    . anot the sort of advice you'd expect to get from a sexual eviant - hence the look of confusion on Eric's face.
    HANSSEN
    (whispered)
    We attend Catherine's
    St. on Sundays. A traditional Latin service. Then a big family lunch after. Do you think Juliana might like that?
    ERIC
    I don't know.
    HANS SEN
    Let's give it a try this weekend. My Bonnie's been known to work miracles.
    Hanssen drops his head in prayer. Eric studies him. Their eyes shut. ..when a SHARP SOUND shatters the moment, interrupting: Eric s oager. It BEEPS obnoxiously, Hanssen nearly recoiling from the sacrilege.
    HANSSEN
    Shut that off!
    ERIC
    Sorry.
    Eric silences the pager, quickly. A beat passes. . then Hanssen's anger dissipates. He eyes the kid.
    HANSSEN
    Your wife?
    ERIC
    No one else even has this number.
    HANSSEN
    Oh. Well. Perhaps you ought to call her. Might be important.
    Eric considers that... then:
    ERIC
    That's okay. It can wait.
    \* \*and he shuts the paoer off, bringing a very pleased grin o Hanssen's face. They proceed down the aisle. We linger here by the doors, as Hanssen leads Eric away from us, to the front pew..

EXT. UNIDENTIFIED COLONNADE -
    NIGHT
    74
    We're not sure where we are: shadowy semi-enclosed a outdoor space. Eric passes along a row of cement columns. Some faint street noise can be heard, maybe twenty feet below him. . then he finds Kate, seated, awaiting him.
    KATE
    Ya know, when I page you it isn't to discuss what's on Oprah. It means I need to speak to you.
    He hands her some PAGES. She starts to look them over.
    KATE
    We're going to be searching
    his car, which'll involve your keeping him out of the office for a few hours. A thing like that has to be planned.
    ERIC
    Did you pick me because I was Catholic?
    Wait. That came out of nowhere. Kate actually looks thrown.
    KATE
    lim sorry?
    ERIC
    Did you think he'd trust me because I was Catholic?
    KATE
    Jesus, Eric.
    (he eyes her)
    We picked you because of your facility with computers. We thought it would impress him. We also thought he might like that 50-page proposal you were pushing all over the Bureau.
    KATE
    I understand he got his hands on a
    copy, right?
    She returns to her reading. Traffic buzzes by below..
    ERIC
    Agent Burroughs... I'm starting to think I might not be the right guy for this.
    KATE
    Oh yeah?
    ERIC
    I'm used to Intel cases, terrorist cases, targets of value. Nobody ever put me on a perversion detail before.
    KATE
    Think we're being too hard on him?
    She puts the pages in her briefcase. He studies her.
    ERIC
    Tell me five things about yourself, four of them true.
    Kate pauses, irritated.
    ERIC
    It's a game he taught me. Lie detection.
    The conversation just ended... We hear the brakes of a BUS squeaking below.
    KATE
    I think that's your bus.
    And she goes. Eric doesn't move..

INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    NIGHT
    75
    Eric enters. He looks spent. But here's Juliana, waiting for him by that lousy formica table. Dinner tonight is two CHINESE FOOD CARTONS and mismatching plates. She shrugs, smiles. Adorable.
    JULIANA
    Hi, Baby.
    ERIC
    Will you go to Church with me?
    That came out of nowhere. On her reaction, we CUT TO:

EXT. ST. CATHERINE' S CHURCH -
    ESTABLISHING -:
    DAY
    76
    A beautiful Catholic church on a glorious snowy day.

INT. ST. CATHERINE' S -
    SAME
    (DAY)
    FATHER McKEE and other PRIESTS stand at an altar with their backs turned to their parishioners. A Latin Sunday Mass. We DOLLY up an aisle varishioner KNEELING to find
    - -
    everv
    Bonnie and Hanssen, praying. Eric too. And three of Hanssen's kids, (Greg, Jane, SUSAN), and three GRANDKIDS. Then we PAN LEFT... to find Juliana, an outsider here.
    FATHER
    This is the Lamb of God who away the sins of the world. those who are
    MCKEE
    takes Happy called to his
    ENTIRE
    Lord, but only healed.
    CONGREGATION
    I say the word and I shall
    Hanssen eyes her, checking to see if she knows what to do in
    "
    a Church. Then he smiles, "encouragingly It rankles her.

INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    DINING
    AFTERNOON
    ROOM
    78
    Juliana stares at a decorated cake. Around her, this house bustles: Greg, Lisa, Jane, lots of GRANDKIDS. Bonnie approaches from the Kitchen.
    BONNIE
    How did you like the service, Juliana?
    JULIANA
    It was lovely... lid never been to a Mass where people knelt the whole time.
    BONNIE
    It's a of devotion.
    gesture We've taught children our not to be grocery- cart Catholics, you know? The kind of church-goer who takes only what's convenient and leaves the rest on the shelf. It's all expected of US. She smiles warmly, puts her hand atop Juliana's.
    BONNIE
    Eric's such a nice young man. How did you two meet?
    JULIANA
    We met in a bar, actually.
    BONNIE
    Oh.
    (a beat)
    Have some cake, Sweetheart.

INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    SAME
    79
    Through a window we see Hanssen and HIS GRANDKIDS, playing in the Hanssen's modest backyard. A snowball fight. REVERSE ANGLE: Eric, watching Hanssen from in here. He turns from the window, looks around the room: mementoes, a few awards, lots of family photos, statues of the Virgin Mary. ..and a computer, which is on but sleeping. Eric sighs, conflicted - takes another look at Hanssen: a grandfather, playing, laughing. Sunday barks happily. Eric sits in Hanssen's chair and toggles the computer mouse. The screen comes to life, revealing the last site Hanssen's been to: . the official WEB-PAGE of the Vatican. Of COUFSe. Now he feels like an idiot. But he moves the mouse to a tab reading i'Internet History" and CLICKS on it. The names of twentv recently visited web addresses fill the screen. He turns for another look out that window. Just to be safe. Uh-oh. Hanssen is no longer out there. And we hear FOOTSTEPS. Eric wheels back around, clicks out of "Internet History, il grabs the nearest book handy, (i'The Man Who Was Thursday" by G. K. Chesterton,) and pretends to be reading, as:
    HANSSEN (O. S.)
    Ilove Sundays..
    Eric looks up, "casually." Here's Hanssen in the doorway, wet from his snowball fight.
    HANSSEN
    Going to Mass, having the kids here. It makes everything else fade away.
    ERIC
    Sorry, I.
    HANS SEN
    Don't be. We want you to feel at home here.
    Eric nods. Hanssen approaches the desk.
    ERIC
    Is this your father, Sir?
    Eric's referring to a framed photo on the desk: of a CHICAGO POLICE OFFICER, circa 1968, HOWARD HANSSEN. Eric studies the photo again: a hard, joyless face..
    ERIC
    He must've been very proud of you. FBI, top Soviet analyst.
    HANSSEN
    Oh, I don't know... Father wasn't very... impressed by things. He wanted me to be a doctor.
    (Eric nods)
    He rigged my first driving test, the day I turned sixteen. Made an arrangement with my DMV Instructor.
    ERIC
    So you'd pass?
    HANSSEN
    So lid fail.
    (a beat)
    He thought it would toughen me up.
    Hanssen breathes out a sad laugh. Eric studies him.
    HANSSEN
    I do that too, I suppose test -
    people. More than I ought to.
    (just remembered:)
    oh. I almost forgot. I have something for you.
    He finds a thick FILE of pages on the desk. Eric's afraid that Hanssen will see that the SCREEN-SAVER isn't on, but:
    HANSSEN
    Everything I could get on Parkinson's.
    Eric pauses, thrown... as Hanssen hands him 100 PAGES OF ARTICLES ABOUT PARKINSON'S: pieces from medical journals, websites, the National Institute of Health.
    HANSSEN
    Been quite bit a of progress in the
    last few years. I didn't know if you were up on it.
    ERIC
    Is there... someone in your family who has Parkinson's?
    HANSSEN
    No. Thank God.
    Just then, SNOWBALLS hit the window - SPLAT! Hanssen turns. His GRANDKIDS giggle outside. Hanssen crosses to the window.
    HANSSEN
    Take a look at the studies on Deep Brain Stimulation: electrodes implanted to stimulate the Thalamus, Subthalamic Nucleus, or Globus Pallidius. They control movement.
    Eric eyes that file - and Hanssen, and the photo oO Howard, feeling pretty lousy now about having snooped in here..
    ERIC
    Ya know, Sir. I think you're.. misunderstood.
    HANSSEN
    Oh? By whom?
    ERIC
    I dunno, by whoever hands out window- offices for one.
    HANSSEN
    oh, that's all right. I think I made too much fuss of all that. Besides, I'll be gone so soon anyway. What good would a window do me now? I'm fifty-seven in two months. That's mandatory retirement.
    Eric pauses, unsettled. Hanssen appreciates that.
    HANSSEN
    It's fine. It's time. I could stay there another hundred years and I'd still just be an afterthought. The perks go to the guys who play the game, the ones who politick; I knew a long time ago I didn't have the stomach for that. But I'll get my portrait on that 25-year wall, right? That's something.
    He looks around this room, his accomplishments.
    HANSSEN
    Doesn't really matter much, does it? The judgments of other men. I know what I've done.
    That landed. We can see it on Eric's face..

79A INT. ERIC'S JEEP -
    PARKED
    DUSK
    OUTSIDE
    79A
    Eric and Juliana pull up to their building, still in their church-clothes. It's been a silent ride home..
    ERIC
    Okay. You didn't like them.
    JULIANA
    Don't you think something's off about him? About both of them?
    ERIC
    No.
    JUL IAnA One of their daughters sleeps on a wooden board did you know that?
    -
    Opus Dei says it'll i'quell her passions," whatever that means.
    ERIC
    She's a numerary. They're celibate.
    JULIMJA
    Good for her. She couldn't be a bridesmaid at her sister's wedding because Opus Dei wouldn't let her take a strange manis arm walking down the aisle.
    ERIC
    It's their religion, okay? They take it seriously.
    She gets out of the car, livid... but Eric doesn't. JULIAnA You're not coming in?
    ERIC
    I hafta to go talk to somebody.
    JULIANA
    Who?
    (he's silent)
    Oh. You can't tell me.
    No, he canit. Juliana heads inside. We MOVE IN ON ERIC.

EXT. WOODROW WILSON PLAZA - TWO HOURS LATER (NIGHT)
    Kate ascends a Metro escalator at Federal Triangle. Before her is Woodrow Wilson Plaza, a massive semi-circular building with a NAV MEMORIAL at its center. And here's Eric, waiting for her. Alone. Kate approaches, annoyed. It's a cold night.
    KATE
    What's the trouble?
    ERIC
    I wanna see what youive got on this guy.
    KATE
    Come again?
    ERIC
    His "internet postings," the e-mails. Your case.
    KATE
    why?
    ERIC
    'Cause I don't think you have one.
    KATE
    I can read yOU In. I'm authorized to do that. But itid only put you at greater risk.
    ERIC
    Of what?! What the hell is all this? He doesn't drink, doesn't tell dirty jokes. He goes to Church every day. His wife loves him, so do his grandkids. And why the hell would you hand a new division to a guy who's retiring in two months, especially if he's under investigation?
    KATE
    Are you through?
    She walks toward the Navy Memorial: flags, statues, a quote from John F. Kennedy. Eric follows, talking to her back:
    ERIC
    I think this whole thing is cooked. I think he keeps shooting off his mouth about the Bureau and nobody knows what to do with him. So we tag him as a deviant and run him out of the building. It's bullshit, the whole thing Kenneth
    - Starr all over again - except I'm running around looking for the blue dress! She waits, making certain he's done. Then:
    KATE
    You've come to admire him, I see.
    ERIC
    Yes.
    KATE
    Respect him.
    ERIC
    Yes.
    KATE
    Well that was inevitable. In fact for
    our purposes it was sorta necessary. (a beat) But he's a traitor, Eric. Started spying for the Russians in 1985. Silence. Dead silence. Eric doesn't blink, or breathe. He replays the words in his head. Maybe he heard them wrong. No. He heard them right. That's why he can't speak.
    KATE
    He's given them military
    secrets, intelligence them secrets. He gave our Continuity of Government Program, which told them where the President would be taken during a nuclear or terrorist attack. And the Vice President. And the Congress. And the Cabinet.

INTERCUT WITH/EXT. FOXSTONE PARK -
    FOOTBRIDGE -:
    NIGHT
    81
    Hanssen stands on a footbridge.
    KATE (V.O.)
    The damage he's done to the U. S. Government is in the billions.
    TILT DOWN... to reveal a large LAWN & LEAF BAG at his feet. He kneels down, and stashes it below the footbridoe.

81A EXT. WOODROW WILSON PLAZA - NIGHT - RESUMING 81A
    Eric doesn't know what to say.
    KATE
    But that's just the money part.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    STUDY -:
    NIGHT
    82
    We're tight on a LOOSE PIECE OF PARQUET FLOORING. Hanssen kneels over it, with a hammer.
    KATE
    He's were
    (V.O.,
    also given working.
    Hanssen pulls up the parquet tile... revealing STACKS OF 100- Dollar bills - his stash. He adds more cash to the pile.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. UNNAMED SOVIET PRISON -
    DAY
    83
    A cold cement floor in a dark FOOm... on which we find the lifeless bodies of VALERY MARTYNOV and SERGEI MOTORIN.
    KATE (V.O.,
    In one drops he identified
    of his Valery Martynov and Sergei Motorin, two KGB agents we'd turned. Blood pools from bullet wounds in their respective skulls.
    KATE
    They were
    (V.O.,
    flown
    executed.

EXT. WOODROWWILSON PLAZA -
    RESUMING
    84
    Kate eyes Eric..
    KATE
    We don't have handle
    a yet on how many of our assets he's compromised. Maybe fifty, maybe more. Might be years before we truly know how many deaths he's been responsible for.
    UNIDENTIFIED
    85
    HOTEL
    INTERCUT
    Again, inside that recorder: \* a cassette spins tape \*:
    HANSSEN'S
    VOICE
    I shouldn't tease you. It just gets trouble. \* me into time REPLY that cassette. A RUSSIAN \* .but this we hear a on olcE: \*
    RUSSIAN VOICE
    CTHRUCASSETTE)
    It is always to keep our attempt you out of trouble! \*
    KATE (V.O.)
    Our file on him came from two Russian defectors. Bureau paid seven million dollars for it.
    86 OMIT 86 \*

EXT. WOODROW WILSON PLAZA -
    NIGHT -:
    RESUMING
    87
    Kate on: goes \*:
    KATE
    in the file is \*
    Of course, everything inadmissable. We make our case \* independently he walks. Retirement \* or with full benefits. \* She lets that sink in. Then, almost as an afterthought:
    KATE
    Oh, and not that it matters, but the sexual stuff is also true. Irrelevant but true.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    MASTER
    NIGHT
    BEDROOM
    88
    Bonnie kneels by her bed, at prayer. She crosses herself, then looks up... to find her husband, eyeing her from the doorway. Hanssen starts toward her, gives her a kiss.
    KATE
    The stories They're real
    (V.O.,
    he put on the Internet? about his wife, name
    - little anecdotes about how much she loves hard cock, that sort of thing. He's a big fan of strippers, too. Has been for years. Hanssen and Bonnie drift out of frame, toward the bed.

EXT. WOODROW WILSON PLAZA -
    NIGHT
    89
    Kate eyes him..
    KATE
    But his grandchildren do love him, that part I can't argue.
    Eric tries not to stagger; it all feels like a hole that just keeps getting deeper. He swallows hard. . just realized something:
    ERIC
    There's no such thing as the li Information Assurance Division."
    Is there?
    KATE
    No. We created that, to lure him back from State. 9930 was built for him too.

89A INT. FBI HQ -
    ROOM 9930 -
    VARIOUS
    (DAY)
    The CONSTRUCTION of 9930, which we saw once before: The inner and outer offices are framed by CARPENTERS. Installation of cameras, heat detectors, microphones. -Carpeting goes down, covering over motion sensors. KATE (CONTiD, V.O.) video, audio, bafflers on the vents, motion sensors, heat sensors, probably enough microwaves in that office to cook a chicken.

89B EXT. WOODROW WILSON PLAZA - NIGHT -
    RESUMING
    89B
    She gives him a moment to absorb it all.
    KATE
    I'm sorry we had to mislead you. But
    this is the worst breach in the history of U. S. Intelligence - unusual steps were required. (Eric nods...) Good news is, you got your wish: you're in the middle of the biggest CSSe WeaVe eVer fUn. Not long ago, that would have been thrilling. BUt nOW..
    KATE
    Come with me. There're a few people
    I'd like you to meet.

INT. WASHINGTON FIELD OFFICE -
    C-TOC
    -
    This is a C-TOC, (Command & Tactical Operations Center.) A il high-tech, vibrant "situation room, impressive as hell. 40 AGENTSoccupy two rows of NASA-like consoles. The feeling is precise, focused. If these guys are after you, you're going to be caught. Computers are built into the consoles. We vass through this C-TOC in three directions, picking up EXCHANGES between Agents. A few voices pop out at us:
    AGENT SHERIN
    He badged out at 5:12,
    stopped at his dry cleaners, drove by Dead-Drop EIIis, then went home. How does that compare with the previous Thursday?
    AGENT NECE
    Has the Agency been briefed If it deals Agency has to be briefed
    CINTO PHONE)
    on with Russian on
    AGENT
    Does
    LOPER
    Hanssen
    coming?
    AGENT SHERIN
    Whatis leave-time?
    That draws some laughs. We land a CORNER of the room... where Eric stands, dumbstruck, Kate beside him. He looks over the room: AGENT SHERIN, AGENT LOPER, three dozen others. One is AGENT DEBRA NECE, whom we (and Eric) mistook not long as the Passin FBI Secretar who joked with Eric about ago the computer he was swiping in the 9th Floor Corridor. Eric tightens, feeling small. Behind him is a DATA ROOM, in which servers and mainframes wink in the dark, way ahead of the technological CUFVe. (NOTE: The C-TOC is ringed on three sides by interior windows that reveal support offices and a huge BULLPEN of cubicles and desks. C-TOC has no exterior windows of its own.)
    ERIC
    How many people are working this?
    KATE
    Got fifty on the Bigot List so far.
    ERIC
    Is the Director involved?
    KATE
    The Director's running the case. He sees your pages every day.
    (that was another stunner)
    Keep them coming, by the way. Our audio's missing about ninety percent of what Hanssen says in there.
    ERIC
    He mumbles.
    KATE
    He does a lot of things, this guy.
    Eric looks around... all this manpower, working one case.
    ERIC
    why don't we just arrest him?
    PLESAC (O. S.)
    Can't do that.
    Eric turns... to find DEAN PLESAC leaning in the doorway of what we now realize is the same CONFERENCE ROOM in which Eric was first assigned to this case. Plesac's 47, Kate's superior. He remains in that doorframe like he owns the place.
    PLESAC
    He knows the names and locations of every source we've ever turned. He
    PLESAC (cont' d) knows where we've put our agents overseas. If we can't get him to talk their lives are all at risk. Eric looks to Kate for an introduction:
    KATE
    Eric O'Neill. Special Agent Dean Plesac.
    ERIC
    Sir.
    PLESAC
    Director wants him caught in the act of making a drop.
    ERIC
    That would give you the Death Penalty.
    PLESAC
    Don't you think he's earned it?
    That lands... just as Rich Garces emerges from that same Conference Room, carrying a steel briefcase - (he and Plesac have just concluded a meeting in there.) Eric pales a bit, realizing that Garces too has been in on this all along.
    GARCES
    See ya, Dean.
    PLESAC
    Thanks for coming in, Rich.
    Garces passes by Eric, hiding a grin.
    GARCES
    Like I said, Kid: take nothing personally.
    Eric just sags, humbled.

INT. WFO -
    C-TOC -:
    MOMENTS LATER
    91
    We DOLLY through the busy BULLPEN as Eric follows Kate. Again, the feeling is disbelief: How did I miss all this?
    KATE
    He has an appointment at the D. I.A. tomorrow at two, right?
    ERIC
    Yeah.
    KATE
    You're driving him?
    Eric mumbles a "yeah'i as they arrive at her CUBICLE (it's slightly neater than those around it). Kate opens up her desk, grabs a KEY from it.
    KATE
    We need you to keep him out of the office for at least three hours. That's when we'll be sweeping his CSf.
    ERIC
    Okay.
    KATE
    Good.
    Key in hand, she heads back toward the C-TOC, with Eric in tow. We continue to TRACK THEM:
    KATE
    How long would it take to download the Datacard from his Palm Pilot?
    ERIC
    Twenty, thirty minutes, depending on the level of encryption.
    (she nods)
    But you can't. He never lets it out of his--
    She stops him with a look. He re-considers.
    ERIC
    Assuming we could separate him from it, twenty to thirty minutes.
    KATE
    Okay.
    She opens a door, leading him into:

91A INT. C-TOC -
    VIDEO
    MOMENTS LATER
    ROOM
    91A
    With a THUNK a thick FILE is dropped onto a table in front of Eric. (Kate has just retrieved it from one of the several large SAFES that line the wall of this room.)
    ERIC
    What's this?
    KATE
    You wanted to be read-in, right?
    Kate shuts the safe, then heads for the door to leave Eric alone with the file. But before she gets there:
    ERIC
    Kate?
    She turns. The kid looks lost.
    ERIC
    What if he's smarter than I am?
    (hates to say this)
    I never misread anybody that badly before... except maybe you.
    She breathes out a smile, unaccustomed to humility from him. Seems like it wouldn't be a bad time to encourage him a bit:
    KATE
    A couple years ago, the Bureau put together a Task Force.
    Eric wasn't expecting a story.
    KATE
    Lots oO assets had been disappearing, sources like Motorin, Martynov; dozens of them, vanishing. So this Task Force was formed to find the -
    mole who was giving them up. Our best analysts, poring over data, for years, looking for the guy. But they could never quite find him.
    (Eric waits)
    Take a guess who we put in charge of the Task Force.
    (Eric gets the idea)
    He was smarter than all of US.
    That helped, a little. Kate's about to go..
    KATE
    Actually, I can live with that part. It's the idea that my whole career's been a waste of time that's
    - the part I hate. (re: the C-TOC) Everything I've done since I got to
    '
    KATE (cont d)
    this office everything - we were all being paid to do he - was undoing it. We all could've just... stayed home. Then she goes...and Eric is alone. Behind him, a TV MONITOR beams a live feed from inside 9930. To his right, a window looks out over the buzzing C-TOC, Kate drifting across it. And before him is that THICK FILE. Reluctantly, he picks up the first page, and eyes it. Its words come alive, in Hanssenls voice:
    HANSSEN (V.O.)
    Dear Friends... Thank you for the 50, 000. As far as the funds are concerned, I have little need or utility for more than 100, 000 at any one time. It merely provides a difficulty since I cannot spend it, store it, or invest it without tripping 'drug money' warning bells.
    Eric puts the page down, picks up another. It sounds angrier:
    HANSSEN
    I myself silence. One might insanely answer loyal. insanity
    (V. O.,
    havecome to I hate propose brave or quite insane. neither. Take your in all
    Eric grabs another - noticing now that his hand is shaking.
    HANSSEN
    The U. S.
    (V. O.,
    be errantly
    can likened to a powerfully-built but retarded child, potentially dangerous but young, immature, and easily manipulated. But donit be fooled by- The tail of that third one is now overlapped by a fourth:
    HANSSEN (V. O.,
    My Security concerns may seem excessive. I believe experience has shown them to be necessary. I am much safer if you know little about me. Neither of us are children about these things.
    We begin to hear several more now, all at once:
    HANSSEN (V.O 'S)
    I found the site empty. Empty sites bother me. I like to know before I commit myself as I'm sure you do also.
    \*
    (Eric his shuts eyes...)
    If you wish to continue our discussions, please have someone run an ad in the Washington Times during the week of January 12th or 19th: " For Sale, Dodge Diplomat, 1971, needs engine work, $1, 000. Give a phone number and.

INT. WFO -
    RESUMING
    92
    We move through in SLOW-MOTION now, from Eric's vantage- point, watching the Agents oO the Field Office at work: grinding away, sweating the details, building their case..
    HANSSEN
    I based on your description Please business in inch-deep country me. from family,
    (V.O.,
    was unable last recognize suit mud. I Meeting is simply I must friends,
    government. I Perhaps some diamonds as security to my children and some goodwill so that when the time comes, you will accept my senior services as a guest lecturer. I Policies are constraints. Constraints breed patterns. Patterns are noticed./
    '
    P. S., your thank
    was deeply you' appreciated. decided / on this
    I
    course when I was 14 years old! Now that is insane, ehl/ Your service has recently suffered some setbacks. I warn that Mr. Boris Yuzhin, Mr. Sergey Motorin, and Mr. Valery Martynov have all been recruited by our "special services."
    It's painstaking, exacting work, but it has to get done. Agents in the C-TOC and the surrounding BULLPEN fueled - on pizza and coffee, tireless. Then we drift back to:

INT. C-TOC -
    VIDEO
    RESUMING
    ROOM
    93
    Eric, eyeing those agents as we hear that last letter:
    HANSSEN (V.O.,
    Eventually, escape plan. Nothing
    I would appreciate an lasts forever.
    Eric pushes the file away. His head drops. END SLOW-MO.

EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. BLDG. - ALLEY -
    NIGHT
    94
    Eric sits in his car, staring, almost in a trance... until the penetrating SOUNDS of a distant SIREN jolts him. He gets out of the Jeep. 95 INT. ERIC & JULIANAiS APT. BLDG. - FOYER -:
    MINUTES
    LATER
    He approaches, reaches for his key... But his front door ooens before the key is inserted. And Juliana stands here, with an odd look on her face.
    ERIC
    Hi.
    JULIANA
    Hi.
    Eric doesn't understand her slightly-lost expression... until she swings the door open wider, and:
    HANSSEN
    You're back!
    The blood drains from Ericis face. Hanssen and Bonnie are here. She's in an apron, cooking. He's at the kitchen table. Hanssen, the traitor, the monster, in my home. Eric's head begins to swim. The look on Juliana's face is heartbreaking.
    ERIC
    Boss. When did you--
    BONNIE
    Very disappointed in you, Young Man. Leaving your bride alone without telling her where you'd be.
    HANSSEN
    Not good, Eric. Where were you?
    Just like that, Eric has to come up with a lie. He enters.
    ERIC
    My mother fell. I had to go see her.
    HANSSEN
    Did she break anything?
    ERIC
    Oh. No. Just bumped her head.
    HANSSEN
    (watching Julianais reaction)
    That's awful. Write down their address for me, would you? I'd like to send some flowers.
    ERIC
    Very kind of you, Boss.
    HANSSEN
    We couldn't reach you on your cell.
    (Eric hesitates)
    On your hip 24/7, right?
    ERIC
    It was stupid, I know.
    (approaches Juliana)
    Sorry, Honey. I should've called.
    Eric gives her a kiss, praying she won't smoke him out. Hanssen watches every nuance between them. Assessing.
    HANSSEN
    We were just hearing what it was like to grow up in the Communist Bloc.
    ERIC
    Oh yeah?
    HANS SEN
    It piques my curiosity, as you can imagine.
    (Eric shrugs)
    I hope it hasn't felt like an interrogation, Juliana.
    Juliana breathes out a smile, trying, as Bonnie brings a Pot Roast to the table, sitting.
    JULIANA
    Bonnie, you really didnit have to go to all this tr--
    BONNIE
    It's only leftovers. I couldn't stand
    the thought of you two ordering from that Peking Wall place again.
    HANSSEN
    (sits)
    Even Chinese people can't eat Chinese every night, Eric. Besides, how's this tiny thing going to give you a house full of babies if you don't put some protein in her diet?
    Upstairs, the HELLO LADY can be heard again: i'Hello? Hello?" Hanssen and Bonnie find that pretty amusing. Time to eSt nOW. Bonnie takes Hanssen's hand to say Grace, extending her other hand toward Juliana.
    BONNIE
    Eric, would you like to say Grace?
    Hands are joined, heads are bowed. Juliana looks to Eric..

EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    LATER
    NIGHT
    Hanssen and Bonnie drive away in the Silver Taurus, waving. Eric waves back, waiting until the Taurus is long gone..

INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    MOMENTS LATER
    97
    Eric re-enters the apartment. Juliana is angrily dumping food into the trash as ia it were poisonous.
    ERIC
    Jule, I'm sorry. I didn't invite them, obviously.
    JULIANA
    But they thought it would be okay, Eric. And what was that bullshit about your mom bumping her head?
    ERIC
    That's complicated.
    JULIAnA "Complicated" as in I wouldn't understand? Or as in you can't tell me?
    ERIC
    (heads for the bedroom)
    I've got work to do. Some reading.
    JULIAnA Are you gonna quit? (he stops, thrown) I want you to quit. He sighs, stuck. She approaches him, trying to connect.
    JULIANA
    I felt... sick all day, Eric. It's like you're someone else when he's around.
    There's a lot he can't tell her. So heis in a box..
    ERIC
    I'm sorry it was a stressful day for you. Let's not make it worse.
    And he turns away. Juliana's at a loss.
    JULIANA
    I dunno, maybe it's me. Maybe you want me to be someone else too. Maybe you want me to be Bonnie or something.
    ERIC
    Knock it off, Jule.
    JULIANA
    No, thatid be easier for you, wouldn't it? If I were more of an FBI kind of wife, like she is?
    ERIC
    I'm not kidding Juliana, shut up.
    JULIAMA
    If I just went to church all day and wanted to spend my life being pregnant. Your parentsid probably love that.
    ERIC
    (starts toward her)
    Enough, awright? !
    JULIANA
    And you wouldn't have to worry anymore if I was Catholic enough or American \*
    enough. Maybe you'd even--
    ERIC
    (grabs her)
    SHUT UP GODDAMMIT! ! !
    That shook the walls, shocking them both. Then, silence.
    With a forced calm he shuts the bedroom door. She stares at it. We DISSOLVE TO: \*
    98-102 9B-102 \*

EXT. THE HOME OF JOHN AND VIVIAN O'NEILL -
    DAWN
    103
    JOHN O'NEILL, 55, emerges from his suburban home, dressed and shaved although the sun is barely up. He grabs the newspaper, turns... and STOPS. Eric is sitting on the front-porch swing. Staring. 5 a.m.
    JOHN
    Eric?
    ERIC
    Hey, Dad.
    JOHN
    How long've you been out here?
    ERIC
    I dunno, an hour or two.
    JOHN
    It's freezing.
    ERIC
    Dad, have you ever quit anything?
    JOHN
    why?
    ERIC
    Just... wondering.
    John just learned why Eric's here. He crosses the porch toward the kid, trying to offer a smile.
    JOHN
    I think I
    gave up on a paper route once. Got tired of waking up so early. why?
    ERIC
    What'd your father say?
    Now John really knows why Eric has come here. He sits.
    JOHN
    Nothing. He just shrugged.
    (remembering)
    He could kill you with those shrugs.
    ERIC
    I've been thinking about him a lot this morning. I don't know why.
    JOHN
    It's a lot to put on yourself, Son. He was just a kid doing his duty. Like you.
    Eric glances past John, through a window... where he can see \* THREE WWII MEDALS, encased in lucite, sitting on a table. \* John eyes them too. The sight of them takes him back a bit.
    JOHN
    "Get on the boat, do your job, and get back home again."
    ERIC
    Huh?
    JOHN
    It's what
    he said to me the first time I ever shipped out. He knew I was scared so he kept it simple.
    ERIC
    Maybe I shoulda gone to Annapolis.
    JOHN
    Always seemed to me like joining the Bureau was your apology for not going
    to Annapolis which you never- had to do.
    ERIC
    It's what you wanted.
    JOHN
    I wanted you to serve your country. Is that what you're doing?
    ERIC
    Yes.
    JOHN
    Then you can't quit, can you?
    Eric is silent. The answeris obvious. John pats his leg.
    JOHN
    Get on the boat, do your job, and get back home again. Can you do that?
    Eric nods, he thinks so. Either way, it's comforting, sitting here together. We leave them on that swing.

INT. FBI HQ -
    NOON
    104
    Eric pays at a cash register while Hanssen clicks and twirls his fat blue PILOT DR.-GRIP PEN. Clicking, twirling. Nothing on his tray but a Diet Coke..
    ERIC
    Not eating today, Sir?
    HANSSEN
    Best way to lose weight just skip
    -
    lunch. How's your mother?
    ERIC
    Oh. Better. Fine. Thank you.
    Hanssen smiles thinly, drifting from the buffet line to a table. Behind him are posters of FBI movies from the '30s: "G- Men," "G-Men Never Forget," "You Can't Get Away With It." They sit, Eric acting as if 's nothing's wrong. Hanssen clicks the pen again.
    HANSSEN
    I had eggs for breakfast this morning, I own eighteen guns.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    ERIC
    My list of five. Thought we might see if you'd learned enough to catch me yet.
    ERIC
    Oh.
    HANSSEN
    Should I go on?
    (Eric nods...)
    When I leave the Bureau I'll be stepping into a two-hundred-and-fifty- thousand-dollar-a-year position at an I.T. firm. I'm behind on my tithing to the church... And I don't believe anything actually happened to your mother last night. I think you were somewhere else and just didn't want to tell me.
    That was supposed to unnerve Eric. But:
    ERIC
    ("shocked")
    You're behind on your tithing to the church? !
    He laughs it off. Hanssen doesn't - just throws another of those X-ray stares. Then:
    HANSSEN
    How many people in this room are lying? Can you tell?
    ERIC
    Huh?
    HANSSEN
    It's in the hands little gestures.
    -
    Tension around the mouth. If you're after a career in Intel you really
    all that. \* ought to master
    \*
    (pointedly)
    How is mother? \*
    your Okay. He must be toying with me... But Eric refuses to wilt.
    ERIC
    Better. Fine. Thank you.
    HANSSEN
    I'm bored. Let's go.
    With that, Hanssen rises. We stay with Eric... as he watches Hanssen go, crossing the cafeteria. \*\*until Eric's eyes land on Garces, seated at a distant abie, casually sipping a coffee. He notes Eric, then looks down at a newspaper. Hanssen exits. And Eric is at sea..

INT. FBI HQ - MEN'S ROOM -
    DAY
    105
    We're TIGHT on Hanssenis WATER PITCHER as Eric fills it in a bathroom sink. Then Garces enters... and Eric tightens.
    GARCES
    His appointment's in five minutes. Media Room, First Floor. You'll get a page when he's in-pocket. Obviously, if he takes his Palm Pilot with him you call me and we shut it down.
    ERIC
    Might not be the best day to do this, Sir. He's due at the D. I.A. at two. I'm driving him.
    GARCES
    Looks like you're in for a full day.
    With that, Garces leaves..

INT. FBI HQ -
    CORRIDOR
    MOMENTS
    OUTSIDE
    LATER
    Eric pauses at the SCIF door, steeling himself.

INT. FBI HQ -
    ROOM 9930 -:
    CONTINUING
    107
    Hanssen works, his door open. (There's now a ROWING MACHINE stacked against a wall, and an OIL PAINTING hanging: two men on a boat, circa 1800's. Eric stole it for him days ago.) Eric enters, pitcher in hand, feigning urgency.
    ERIC
    Boss, I just realized -
    I totally screwed something up.
    HANSSEN
    Don't you knock?
    ERIC
    The photographer for your twenty- fifth anniversary portrait, heis here
    ERIC
    today. it I had
    in my book for next week. it's Buttoday. (sets the pitcher down) They just called me on my cell. Your appointment's in five minutes.
    HANSSEN
    Well, we'll just have to reschedule, won't we?
    ERIC
    We shouldn't. Heis only here once a month. I'm so sorry.
    HANSSEN
    I'm supposed to drop everything I'm doing and run down there? In this?
    ERIC
    It's how you dress every day.
    HANSSEN
    No. There's a spot on my tie.
    ERIC
    Lemme look.
    Eric crosses to the desk, "accidentally" knockina over that water vitcher as he moves to Hanssen's chair. Big spill.
    HANS SEN
    Good Lord! You klutz!
    Hanssen shoots to his feet. Water runs all over the desk.
    ERIC
    I'm so sorry!
    HANSSEN
    It's everywhere.
    Eric grabs a fistful of Kleenex, starts mopping the desk.
    ERIC
    Boss. Please. Get down there. I'll have all this cleaned up by the time you're back.
    HANSSEN
    I've got the D. I.A. at two.
    ERIC
    I'll get you there. No problem.
    Eric keeps mopping, Hanssen studying him... until:
    HANSSEN
    Are you finding this job stressful, Eric? Is all this too much for you?
    Eric stops, eyes him.
    ERIC
    Sometimes.
    HANS SEN
    Then pray more.
    ERIC
    Yes Sir.
    And Hanssen goes... leaving his canvas briefcase behind. Eric waits for the sound of the SCIF door. It closes. And, on Hanssen's TV SCREEN, Eric sees Hanssen disappearing down the corridor..

INTERCUT WITH/INT. FBI HQ -
    MEDIA
    MOMENTS LATER
    ROOM
    108
    A makeshift photo studio. Hanssen enters, passing a non- descript CLERK without a hello. A PHOTOGRAPHER approaches, a bit too enthusiastic for Hanssen's tastes:
    PHOTOGRAPHER
    Mister Hanssen! Nice to meet you! I'm John.
    Hanssen nods. Photographer leads him toward the i'studio" as that non-descript Clerk sends a TEXT-MESSAGE:

INT. ROOM 9930 -
    RESUMING
    109
    Eric has cleaned up the mess on Hanssenis desk. Now he waits... until his PAGER beeps. He looks at its face: "Karat is in-pocket." That's the green light. Eric goes to work, unzipping Hanssenis bag. The first pocket is empty. So's the second. .but pocket #3 has the jackpot: Hanssen's PALM PILOT and a atacara. Eric grabs them and hurries to:

INT. 9930 -
    ERIC'S
    CONTINUING
    DESK
    110
    Eric pulls out a key and opens a LOCKED DESK DRAWER. It has a FALSE BOTTOM in it. He slides that aside, to find an ADVANCED PDA RECORDER, hidden here. Eric plugs the Datacard into it.

INT. FBI HQ - MEDIA ROOM -
    RESUMING
    111
    Hanssen sits on the stool, uneasy, as a brush is run through his hair by that Photographer.
    PHOTOGRAPHER
    Twenty-five years, huh? That's quite a prideful thing.
    Hanssen smiles tightly - this Photographer seems a little gay to him... Photographer eyes him, then frowns, as:
    PHOTOGRAPHER
    Ya know something? Thereis a little too much bounce on your nose. We don't want that.
    (reaches for make-up tray)
    Would you be opposed to just the slightest touch of base?
    Hanssen's look is withering. CONTINUE INTERCUT:

INT. 9930 - ERIC'S DESK -
    RESUMING
    112
    DOWNLOADING begins. A horizontal PERCENTAGE BAR on the PDA recorder shows the speed at which we're copying.

112A INT. FBI HQ -
    MEDIA
    ROOM
    We're mid-shoot. That Photographer is chatting up a storm.. and Hanssen's growing more and more uptight. Then, in the middle of a FLASH.
    HANSSEN
    Stop.
    (Photographer stops)
    Just, stop.
    Hanssen rises off that stool, heading for the door.

112B INT. 9930 - AT ERIC'S DESK -
    RESUMING
    112B
    50% downloaded, 51%, 52% That PDA recorder continues:

INT. FBI HQ -
    ENTRY -:
    MINUTES LATER
    113
    Hanssen emerges, irritated. Photographer's behind him:
    PHOTOGRAPHER
    Mister Hanssen! We can get you another tie!
    HANSSEN
    \*
    I don't like to be scrutinized. He walks away from the Media Center, irritated. We FOLLOW. Angry strides, his head shaking. To his right are MORE DISPLAYS in glass cases. Then he turns a corner and:
    GARCES
    Hey! I found you!
    Here's Garces.
    HANS SEN
    Oh?
    GARCES
    I was my way to the range
    on so I called your office. Thought I might finally see if you're the dead shot I've been hearing you were.
    HANSSEN
    Maybe some other time, Rich. I'm not in the mood JUSt nOW.
    GARCES
    Me neither. Let's go take it out on
    some targets.

INT. 9930 - AT ERIC'S DESK -
    RESUMING
    114
    Downloading has reached 80% nOWr 81%, 82%.

INT. FBI HQ -
    FIRING
    MOMENTS LATER
    RANGE
    115
    BANG-BANG-BANG. Hanssen squeezes off shots, his eyes slightly manic. Garces's right beside him. They push buttons to bring their TARGETS up close. Hanssen has won easily.
    GARCES
    Mmm, mmm, mmm. Shameful.
    (Hanssen smiles thinly)
    Double or nothing?

115A INT. 9930 -
    AT ERICiS DESK -
    RESUMING
    115A
    The DOWNLOAD is complete now. Eric pops out the Datacard and rises from his desk.

115B INT. FBI HQ -
    ELEVATOR
    MOMENTS LATER
    -
    115B
    Hanssen rises. The elevator STOPS on 6 and Tim Bereznay boards; (we met him in Manhattan.)
    BEREZNAY
    Hey, Bob! I heard you were back!
    HANS SEN
    Yep. Gallagher asked me to start up a division. I'm S.E. Sa nOW.
    BEREZNAY
    Good for you!

INT. 9930 -
    MANSSEN'S
    CONTINUING
    OFFICE
    116
    Eric enters, returns Hanssen's Palm Pilot and Datacard to the canvas bag. Easy. No sign of Hanssen on that TV MONITOR. 117-llB OMIT 117-118

INT. FBI HQ -
    NINTH
    CORRIDOR
    FLOOR
    -
    SAME
    119
    Hanssen emerges from the elevator, heading for 9930.

INT. 9930 -
    AT
    RESUMING
    ERIC'S
    120
    Eric sits, once again hiding the PDA Recorder beneath that false drawer-bottom. He shuts the drawer, locks it. \*\*and allows a grin to fan across his face. Maybe you re not smarter than I am Asshole. It's satisfying. \*\*until he realizes something that makes him shoot straight up in his chair, breathless:
    ERIC
    Wrong pocket.

INT. FBI HQ - NINTH FLOOR -
    CORRIDOR -:
    SAME
    121
    We're close on HANSSEN'S FOOTSTEPS. His keys jingle noisily.

INT. FBI HQ -
    HANSSEN'S
    SAME
    OFFICE
    122
    Eric hurries to Hanssen's desk, kneels down at Hanssenis bag and yanks the Palm Pilot out of the pocket he just put it in. He puts it into another pocket. That also looks wrong. He throws an anxious look at the TV MONITOR... in time to see Hanssen, at the door of 9930.

INT. FBI HQ -
    NINTH
    AT
    FLOOR
    9930
    SAME
    123
    Hanssen enters his code at the door of the SCIF.

INT. FBI HQ -
    HANSSEN'S OFFICE -:
    RESUMING
    124
    Eric hears the THREE BEEPS behind him: the SCIF door. He crosses himself with a silent prayer, and picks a pocket shoving the Palm Pilot and DataCard in. But there's no time to get back to his desk. He's stuck.

INT. ROOM 9930 -
    AT
    CONTINUING
    9930 'S DOOR
    125
    Hanssen enters. Eric's desk is empty. Hanssen notes it, then crosses to his private office, leans in: .\*and finds Eric, on his knees, his back to the door, vraving before the virgin Mary:
    ERIC
    Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for our sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
    Hanssen waits, lets Eric finish "Amen" then jingles his keys. Eric turns as if startled, rising quickly.
    ERIC
    Oh. Sorry. How'd the shoot go?
    HANSSEN
    It didn't.
    (crossing to his desk)
    I don't know why they thought I'd just sit there while some faggot- photographer got his jollies, but I have work to do.
    Eric doesn't reply - just heads for the door. They pass one another awkwardly.
    ERIC
    Door open or closed, Sir?
    HANSSEN
    Closed.
    Eric goes. We go with him, to his desk... where there's nothing to do but sit. And wait. A silent beat, suddenly unbearable. Eric tries to focus on his computer screen. Forget it. Then he hears the worst sound possible from Hanssen's office: that canvas briefcase being opened... and examined. Eric shuts his eyes... Hanssen's door opens, slowly, then:
    HANSSEN
    Have you been in my briefcase?
    Eric turns. This had better be good.
    ERIC
    Sorry, Boss, I had to move it so it wouldn't get soaked. The water was everywhere. Did I put it back wrong?
    Silence - Hanssen not reacting, Eric just hanging. . \*another agonizing moment... Then Hanssen nods, and:
    HANSSEN
    Let's go.

EXT. DEFENSE INTELLIGENCE AGENCY -
    GUARD-POST
    -
    An FBI-issue CHEVY SUBURBAN pulls up to the first of TWO GUARDPOSTS protecting this Roslyn, Virginia building. Eric, in the driver's seat, shows his I.D. The Suburban is waved through. A nasty-looking hydraulic BARRICADE is lowered into the pavement.

EXT. DEFENSE INTELLIGENCE AGENCY -
    PARKING
    DAY
    LOT
    127
    Hanssen and Eric head for the front door, which is guarded by MARINES. The MILITARY PRESENCE around us is profound.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. FBI HQ -
    SAME
    128
    We're two levels down. Hanssen's Taurus is driven past us by an UNSEEN DRIVER, who parks it behind a CEMENT BARRICADE. Waiting at the barricade is a FED-EX truck. A SWEEP TEAM emerges from it, each agent wearing inspection gloves. They look toward Plesac. Heas in charge today. \*
    PLESAC
    We've got until five.
    The Sweep Team decends on the Taurus.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. D. I.A. -
    DATA
    SAME
    CENTER
    129
    Eric and Hanssen stand in a DATA CENTER. We find SEVEN SUPERCOMPUTERS down here, each identical, churning out data. Immaculate, impressive.
    HANSSEN
    The Seven Dwarfs, watching the world. God I wish the Bureau had this kind of technology.
    Eric smiles thinly. In bg we see a D. I.A. GUY IN A SUIT, talking on a telephone. CONTINUE INTERCUT:

INT. FBI HQ - GARAGE -
    RESUMING
    130
    PHOTOS Ofevery inch of the Taurus and its interior now fill a bulletin board. Plesac eyes them, then nods to a TRUNK il CATALOGUER and an ENGINE CATALOGUER: "Proceed. They open the trunk and hood of the Taurus, but:
    TRUNK
    Jesus.
    CATALOGUER
    Plesac turns to see what the TRUNK CATALOGUER is seeing: Hanssenas ARMORY: the 9 mm., the sub-machine gun, the 400 rounds of ammunition, and all of it under clear PLASTIC.
    TRUNK
    This guy could park at the bottom the Potomac and come out firing.
    CATALOGUER
    of
    Plesac nods soberly. CONTINUE INTERCUT:

INT. D. I.A. DATA-CENTER -
    RESUMING
    131
    The D. I.A. SUIT approaches Hanssen, a bit sheepish.
    D. I.A. SUIT
    Got some bad news, Agent Hanssen: we're gonna hafta cut this meeting short.
    HANSSEN
    I don't understand.
    D. I.A.
    That an
    SUIT
    was emergency
    HANSSEN
    Does he know that I'm here? Does he know who I am?
    D. I.A.
    I made all yes. He asked your convenience.
    SUIT
    that me
    HANSSEN
    No thanks.
    Without warning, Hanssen turns to go. Eric's eyes go wide.
    ERIC
    Sir?
    HANSSEN
    This visit was a courtesy. Letis go.
    ERIC
    Sir, maybe there's someone else who can show us around.
    HANSSEN
    Get the fucking car.

INT. FBI HQ -
    GARAGE -:
    RESUMING
    132
    A HUGE PLASTIC TARP has been laid out. Sitting on it are the Taurus' HOOD, doors, tires, every inch of its CARPETING. Aa EVIDENCE PHOTOGRAPHER, flanked by Plesac, shoots it all. Also on the tarp: two HEADSHOTS of Catherine Zeta-Jones.. and DVD's of "Entrapment" and "The Mask of Zorro." That' s odd. We also find Hanssen's guns and ammo. ..and a box of LAWN & LEAF BAGS, some WHITE MEDICAL TAPE, a OX OF COLORED CHALK. Most importantly, the sealed lawn & leaf bag that Hanssen filled in his study. Hard evidence..

EXT. DEFENSE INTELLIGENCE AGENCY -
    PARKING
    DAY
    LOT
    133
    Hanssen, with the Marine Guards over his shoulders, stands outside the D. I.A., fuming, clicking that Dr.-Grip pen furiously. Then Eric pulls up in the Suburban.
    ERIC
    Boss, I'm sorrr-
    HANSSEN
    I was doing you a favor, bringing you along.
    ERIC
    I spoke out of turn. I know that.
    HANSSEN
    When somebody takes a shit on you, you don't reschedule. He wasn't called into any meeting. That was a power play.
    ERIC
    I didn't... I didn't read it that way.
    HANSSEN
    That's why you're still a clerk. Just take me back to the office.
    Eric knows he can't do that... CONTINUE INTERCUT:

INT. FBI HQ - GARAGE -
    RESUMING
    134
    That Evidence Photographer clicks away as Plesac stands stoically. Then his CEL-PHONE RINGS.
    PLESAC
    Plesac.
    CINTO CEL)
    GEDDES
    They're
    CTHRUCEL)
    on
    PLESAC
    Uh-huh.
    CINTO CEL)
    135 INTERCUT WITH/INT. SURVEILLING SEDAN -
    MOVING -:
    SAME
    135
    Geddes and Brooks, Eric's old team, drive in a plain sedan.. tailing the Suburban along Wilson Boulevard in Arlington, Va.
    GEDDES
    The meeting on Wilson
    CINTO CEL)
    took 20 minutes. Boulevard, heading
    Plesac looks at the pieces of that dismembered Taurus: doors, bumpers, engine parts, carpeting. A mess..
    PLESAC
    (barely audible)
    Good God.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. THE SUBURBAN -
    MOVING -:
    SAME
    136
    Eric looks in his rear-view mirror, very much aware that he's being tailed. Beside him, Hanssen fumes.
    ERIC
    Would you like to hear some music, Sir?
    HANSSEN
    Yes. I'm the mood for
    in some Andrews Sisters. They got any in here?
    ERIC
    Not to my knowledge, Sir..
    HANSSEN
    Didnit think SO.

INT. FBI HQ -
    GARAGE -:
    SAME
    137
    Plesac snaps his cel-phone shut, turns to his Sweep Team:
    PLESAC
    Sew it up.
    TRUNK
    Sir?
    CATALOGUER
    PLESAC
    We're aborting. Sew it up.

INT. SUBURBAN -
    TEDDY ROOSEVELT BRIDGE
    -
    Eric drives. Hanssen clicks his blue Doctor-Grip pen angrily.
    ERIC
    (looks out window)
    How about that -
    Parkwayis wide open.
    HANSSEN
    I hate the Parkway. Take E Street.
    ERIC
    They're doing construction on E Street. It was on the radio this morning.
    HANSSEN
    So take Constitution.
    ERIC
    Sir, I'm SSG; we tail people for a living. Parkway's faster.

INT. FBI HQ -
    SAME
    139
    The Sweep Team is working frantically to re-assemble the CSf. Plesac's cel-phone rings. He grabs it.
    PLESAC
    Yeah?
    CINTO CEL)
    GEDDES CTHRUCEL)
    He just bought you some time. They're heading for the Potomac Parkway.
    PLESAC
    Good. What kind of roadblock can we get in front of them?
    GEDDES
    Already en-route, Sir.

EXT. FBI CHOPPER -
    MINUTES
    LATER
    A U. S. PARK POLICE HELICOPTER flies at a discreet altitude above the LINCOLN MEMORIAL. We ZOOM DOWN TO:

EXT. POTOMAC PARKWAY -
    SAME
    141
    GRIDLOCK. A traffic jam... caused by a TOW-TRUCK that has mysteriously STALLED at the bottleneck of this thin street. (We see the back of the Lincoln Memorial in the distance.)

INT. THE SUBURBAN -
    STUCK
    SAME
    IN
    142
    Eric and Hanssen are in that gridlock now. Hanssen is livid. A line of TWENTY STUCK CARS stretches before him.
    HANSSEN
    Imbecile. Idiot!
    ERIC
    I'm sorrr-
    HANS SEN
    Is this
    what they teach you in "ghosting school," No wonder the Bureau can never find anyone. Hanssen reaches across Eric and LEANS ON THE HORN.

INT. FBI HQ -
    SAME
    143
    Kate arrives, out of breath. She hurries over to Plesac.
    KATE
    I paged him. Where are we?
    PLESAC
    Not sure yet. Maybe screwed.

INT. THE SUBURBAN -
    RESUMING
    144
    With every second, Hanssen's getting more irritated... until he simply grabs his bag and oyens the car-door. That's bad.
    ERIC
    Sir, what're you doing?
    HANSSEN
    I can here for
    sit an hour. Or I can walk two blocks, get on the other side of that bottleneck by myself, and take a five minute cab-ride back to the office. Which do you think would better serve the needs of the Bureau? With that, he's gone, exiting the Chevy. And Eric is stuck.

INT. U. S. PARK POLICE CHOPPER -
    SAME
    145
    Olsen, watching from up here, reaches for his cel-phone.

INT. SURVEILLING SEDAN -
    SAME
    146
    Geddes instantly reaches for his cel-phone.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. FBI HQ -
    GARAGE -:
    SAME
    147
    Plesac's phone rings. He grabs it.
    PLESAC
    Please to Niagara
    CINTO CEL)
    tell Falls.
    GEDDES
    Hanssen's
    CINTO CEL)
    on
    PLESAC
    Of course he is.
    GEDDES
    I put him back at the office in 10 minutes, best case.
    Plesac snaps his phone shut with disgust, turns to Kate:
    PLESAC
    Your boy is killing US.
    KATE
    He'll be fine.

EXT. POTOMAC PARKWAY -
    CONTINUING
    148
    Eric gets out of the Cheyy, in the middle of this bumper- locked street, abandoning the truck to follow Hanssen. A few DRIVERS begin HONKING at him. Eric ignores them, heading for Hanssen, the Potomac on their right:
    ERIC
    Boss?
    (Hanssen keeps walking)
    You gotta get back in the truck, Sir.
    HANSSEN
    Havenit you made enough mistakes for one day, Eric? Now you wanna throw in a traffic violation?
    ERIC
    Sir, you hafta get back in the truck.
    HANSSEN
    Why should I?
    ERIC
    Look, donit kill me, okay? I did something stupid.
    HANSSEN
    What a shock.
    ERIC
    (here goes...)
    Ilied to you, Boss.
    That stopped Hanssen in his tracks. He turns..
    ERIC
    There isn't any construction on E Street. I made that up.
    Another x-ray stare from Hanssen. Eric tries not to waver..
    HANSSEN
    What would you do that for?
    ERIC
    Because I need your help... And I was afraid to ask if we could make an
    extra stop. Eric shakes his head, as if embarrassed by his own cowardice.
    ERIC
    I wanted to go back to that Reading Room, Sir the Catholic Information
    -
    Center. I sorta have to.
    HANSSEN
    whr?
    Eric pauses, as if not certain he can reveal this... Then:
    ERIC
    (reluctantly)
    It's Juliana. We've been fighting all week.
    Hanssen eyes him, reading him. A long beat.
    HANS SEN
    what about?
    ERIC
    To be honest, Sir... your church.
    There it is - a big, fat lie... rooted in truth. And Hanssen, despite himself, is hooked.
    ERIC
    She didn't like it, Boss. She didn't get it. So I wanted to go back to the Reading Room. I thought there might be some books I could get for her, to help her see things better. And I Oigured if we were driving right past it you might wanna pull in. Stupid. But there it is..
    A long beat, cars honking all around them now.. And Eric can't tell if he's dead or not... until:
    HANS SEN
    Swear to God.
    ERIC
    Excuse me?
    HANS SEN
    Swear to God that everything you just told me is true.
    Eric pauses... but his eyes never leave Hanssen's..
    ERIC
    No. I'm not gonna do that.
    Hanssen doesn't react.
    ERIC
    I don't lie about my wife, or the church and if you don't
    -
    know that
    yet then I sure as hell wouldn't- (stops himself...) Ya know something, Boss? You do test people too much. And I've had it. I was asking you for help. (silence... then:) Have a nice walk, Sir. I'll see you back at the office. Eric turns, walks away. We STAY WITH HIM as he blows through the middle of the street, passing pissed-off motorists.

INT. FBI HQ -
    RESUMING
    149
    Plesacis cel-phone rings again.
    PLESAC
    Yeah?
    CINTO CEL)
    150 EXT. POTOMAC PARKWAY - AT THE SUBURBAN -
    CONTINUING
    150
    Eric puts the key in the ignition, wondering how the hell he's going to explain all this to Kate. Then the passenger door opens. And Hanssen oets In.
    HANSSEN
    Maybe... maybe I overstepped.
    He sits heavily, eyes front, and pulls the door shut.

INT. FBI HQ -
    GARAGE
    -
    Plesac's about to squeeze that cel-phone into pulp, when:
    GEDDES CTHRUCEL)
    O'Neill talked him back in.
    Plesac's eyes go wide. The news is too good to be trusted.
    PLESAC (INTO CEL)
    How'd he manage that?
    GEDDES CTHRUCEL)
    Hard to say. But from here it looked like he may've proposed marriage.
    Plesac hangs up, looks to Kate.
    KATE
    He's not bad at poker, that kid.
    PLESAC
    Let's not start congratulating anybody just yet.
    Kate half-smiles. END SEOUENCE. CUT TO: \*

INT. FBI HQ -
    LATER
    DAY
    The Suburban pulls up to Hanssen's parking space... where Hanssen's silver Taurus sits, looking entirely unmolested.

INT. THE SUBURBAN -
    CONTINUING
    153
    Eric's silent. Books from the "Catholic Information Center" sit beside him. Hanssen eyes the Taurus, thinking. Then he pulls a BULKY MANILA ENVELOPE from his canvas bag. Again, it's addressed to "Jack Hoschoueri' in Bonn, Germany.
    HANSSEN
    This needs to be mailed.
    ERIC
    You're not coming in, Sir?
    HANSSEN
    I don I t have to account to you. do I?
    Hanssen hands him the envelope and gets out - examining the Taurus as he approaches. Eric smiles thinly and pulls away.

INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    DUSK
    154
    Eric sits at that crappy formica table, alone. A kettle is heating up on the stove. Another glass of Scotch awaits. Before him is Hanssenis MANILA ENVELOPE, addressed to "Jack Hoschouer." Eric stares at it, conflicted. Then a SHRILL WHISTLE from the kettle pierces the silence, startling him. Steam pours from its spout. Eric grabs the envelope, carries it to the stove..

INT. BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER
    We're on an unmarked VHS CASSETTE, with a Post-It attached: "Jack, Think you 'll like this one. Bob." It's not too late to stuff this tape back into its envelope, (which sits beside the stove in the kitchen.) Instead Eric turns on his TV, and shoves in the cassette. First image on the screen shocks him: It's Hanssen's bedroom, shot in Hi-8 video from inside the mirrored door of their ARMOIRE. Bonnie lies in bed, asleep. And a pit begins to form in Eric's gut. On the monitor, Hanssen crosses into frame on his way to the bed, behind Bonnie, and peels back the sheets. He crawls in so that her body obscures our view of his, and begins to touch her. We hear AUDIO now - her soft moans.. Clearly, she doesn't know she 's being taped. Eric wants to look away, but can't... Hanssen unbuttons the top of Bonnie's silk pajamas... until a sudden SOUND startles the hell out of Eric. And us. It's the front door. Juliana iust came home. Eric leaps for the VCR, hitting STOP just as she enters the room. He doesn't have time to turn the tv off... and doesn't know if she caught the sound of moaning when she walked in.
    JULIAA
    Hi.
    ERIC
    Hi.
    JULIANA
    What're you watching?
    ERIC
    Nothing. A training tape on surveillance. Hanssen asked me to check that the transfer was okay.
    Juliana bought that. She heads for the kitchen, (two grocery bags in her arms), as: JULIAnA Would you mind getting the rest of the groceries for me, Honey?
    ERIC
    Oh. Sure.

INT. KITCHEN -
    CONTINUING
    156
    Juliana sets the bags down by the sink, right on toy of that emvtv MANILA ENVELOPE addressed to Jack Hoschouer.. .. as Eric "casually" drifts out of the bedroom, dropping the cassette into his gym bag.
    JULIANA
    Few more bags in the CSf.
    She tosses him the keys. He smiles, heads out.
    ERIC
    How was school?
    JULIANA
    It was fine. I'm just tired.

EXT. ALLEY BEHIND THEIR BLDG. -
    MOMENTS LATER
    157
    Eric emerges into the alley, disturbed as hell by what he's just seen, but equally relieved that he won't have to explain it to Juliana. Then he freezes in his tracks. Just saw something horrible: Their Jeey. There aren't any grocery bags inside. And he just heard the sounds of BONNIE'S MOANING coming from his bedroom tv; (the room looks up into this alley. ) Heis dead, and he knows it. He races back toward:

EXT. OUTSIDE THEIR BLDG. -
    TRACKING
    ERIC
    We're right on his back as he runs around the corner, crossing their thimble-sized lawn to a walkway.

INT. THEIR BLDG. "LOBBY" -
    TRACKING
    CONTINUING
    ERIC
    159
    He races into the building. Then down two steps, and into:

INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    CONTINUING
    160
    He bursts in, breathless.. Juliana is right where he expected her to be: sitting on the edge of the bed... watching that tape. He hurries in.
    ERIC
    Jule..
    JUL IANA \*
    A "training tape on surveillance"p \*
    He crosses to the tv. \*
    ERIC \*
    This isn't what it looks like. \*
    JUL IANA \*
    It looks making porno's
    like he's of \* for \* Bonnie some guy in Germany, except she doesn't know about it. \*
    \*
    (Eric ejects the tape)
    Everybody told me when you marry - \*
    the Bureau, things get weird \*
    sometimes, the cases... But they \*
    never told me about this. \*
    ERIC \*
    This has nothing to do with a case. \*
    JULIAMA \*
    Oh. \*
    him... \* (eyes I \* S0... you weren't just steaming open his mail. Me gave it to you. \*
    ERIC \*
    I \*
    gotta go. He heads for the door. Juliana remains on the couch. \*
    JULIANA \*
    \*
    (at his back)
    Do you trust me, Eric? \*
    That him cold at the door. He turns. \* stops
    ERIC \*
    \*
    or course.
    JULIANA \*
    'Cause think you've got this
    I idea \* telling me the truth \* somehow that would mean you were betraying your \* something. It wouldn't. \* country or silent) \* (Eric's You're not shock me - heis a \* gonna I knew that already. I just. \* creep,
    \*
    heis been in our home, we keep fighting about him. I'd \*
    just like to know what the hell all of this is. \*
    \*
    (a beat)
    Can't tell me? Please? \*
    you They eye one another from across the room, feels like miles \* between them. \*
    ERIC \*
    I don't know when I'll be back. \*
    With that, he gaes. She the door.. \* just stares at

INT. KATE'S APT. BUILDING -
    HALLWAY -:
    MINUTES
    LATER
    A hand raps hard on an apartment door, repeatedly. Then the door is opened by Kate. Eric stands in her doorway, too wound-up to say hello:
    ERIC
    I think my wife just read herself into the case..
    Kate throws a glare at Eric that is Hanssen-like in its disdain. Eric nearly staggers from it. Then she opens the door wider. He enters.

INT. KATE'S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
    A clean, efficient one-bedroom. Kate closes the door, calmly.
    KATE
    I'm assuming that you know what a massive fuck-up that would be.
    They enter. Her Dining Room table is cluttered with two days' worth of unread newspapers, unanswered mail, a half-eaten Lean Cuisine dinner, and some laundry in piles.
    ERIC
    Look, she' s smart, okay? She puts things together.
    It feels odd to have her underwear stacked three feet from Eric. She pushes the piles into a basket, irritated.
    KATE
    Uh-huh.
    ERIC
    You're as much to blame as anybody, ya know that? I'm telling so many lies now I can't keep 'em straight anymore.
    KATE
    Wanna make things easier? Next time Hanssen gives you a package and tells you to mail it, mail it!
    That made his jaw drop. utter silence. She eyes him..
    KATE
    Aside from being a colossally stupid thing to do that was also a violation of the law. You stole someone's mail. Don't you know better?
    ERIC
    Jesus. Agent Burroughs, I'm..
    KATE
    The package has been re-sealed as you found it, right? No trace that it was ever opened, nothing that would arouse any suspicions on the other end?
    ERIC
    No. I posted it from the Bureau five minutes ago. It was pristine.
    KATE
    We'll see.
    \*
    (Eric's silent)
    I'm sorry you're having problems at home. IJd offer you some advice but it wouldn't be worth much I donit -
    even have a cat. All I can tell you is keep your head on straight and do your job; it's your best shot at getting this over with. Understand?
    Eric just nods..
    KATE
    We pulled 300 pages of classified materials out of a Lawn & Leaf
    Bag in his trunk And quite a bit today. of correspondence off the Palm Pilot. His next drop appears to be imminent... unless someone does something to make him suspicious.
    ERIC
    Right.
    KATE
    Right.
    The silence hangs.
    KATE
    (re: laundry)
    I really oughtta finish this.
    In other words, iiyou have to go."
    ERIC
    Yeah. Okay.
    He crosses to the door. She follows, opens the door for him. But he turns, just before leaving:
    ERIC
    Can I ask you something?
    KATE
    Sure.
    ERIC
    Is it worth it?
    (she's silent)
    ERIC(cont 'd)
    Being an agent, what it costs. Is it worth it? She weighs that one for a second, then:
    KATE
    Ask me when we've caught him.
    163-177 163-177 \* OMIT:

INT. FBI HQ -
    DAY
    178
    Eric sits at his desk, trying to keep it together. A document sits before him: "MISSION STATEMENT for the Information it Assurance Division... by Robert P. Hanssen. Ten pages long. Across its top is a hand-written note: "Please check this for spelling and typographical errors, R.H." Eric eyes it. All is quiet, until:
    HANSSEN (O. S.)
    Eric?
    Hanssen's voice, coming from behind a closed door.
    ERIC
    Yes Boss?
    HANSSEN (O. S.)
    Come in here. I want to show you something.
    Eric rises, heads toward Hanssen's office.

INT. FBI HQ -
    HANSSEN'S
    CONTINUING
    OFFICE
    179
    Eric enters. Hanssen is at his desk, staring at a LAPTOP.
    HANSSEN
    This is
    address the of my mechanic in Manassas. dropping I'm my car off on Monday. Need you to pick me up and bring me into work. A slip of paper sits on the edge of the desk. Eric takes it.
    HANSSEN
    No later than 8:15.
    ERIC
    Something wrong with your car?
    HANSSEN
    lim having it swept. For electronic devices.
    ERIC
    oh.
    HANSSEN
    I've been sensing signal bursts coming through the radio lately. And car alarms go off when I drive past. It's not beneath the Russians to track me. I'm tailed all the time. They know how much I know.
    ERIC
    Yes, Sir.
    HANSSEN
    Do you know this movie?
    Eric crosses to the desk... where he finds Entrapment, starring Catherine Zeta-Jones, playing on Hanssen's laptop. Hanssen stares at the screen, his eyes glazed but aroused. And he is touching himself, over his pants.
    HANSSEN
    She's very appealing.
    Eric pauses. No idea how to play this one.
    ERIC
    Yes, Sir. live always thought so.
    HANSSEN
    Close the door on your way out.
    Eric goes.

INT. 9930 -
    ERIC'
    CONTINUING
    S OFFICE
    180
    Eric shuts the door, pauses. Christ, that was odd. Just then his PAGER goes off again. He eyes it: z&. OMIT

INT. WFO -
    EVENING
    182
    Eric enters the packed room, breathless. He ran here. Oddly, there's no buzz in here tonight. The faces look strained. He spots Kate and hurries OVef. Something is very much off.
    ERIC
    What happened?
    KATE
    I was
    wrong, Eric. We're not days away from getting this guy. (Eric waits) Son of a bitch is going to ground. Eric is silent. Before Kate is a single page, a typed LETTER.
    KATE
    Just got the encryption off this one: his last letter to his handlers in the SVR, dated two days ago.
    Eric doesn't reach for it. She begins to read it aloud:
    KATE
    "
    "Dear Friends.

INTERCUT WITH/INT. HANSSEN HOME - STUDY - LATE NIGHT
    Hanssen eyes his laptop. On the screen is a letter. It begins with the words, iiDear Friends... il We hear Kate, in V.O. now:
    KATE
    " these many years. that come seclude
    CCONT'D, V.O.)
    Ithank you for your assistance It my greatest to an end, myself

INT. WFO - C-TOC -
    RESUMING
    184
    That was a bomb; we can see it on Eric's face..

INTERCUT WITH/INT. ST. CATHERINE'S -
    EVENING
    185
    Hanssen enters this magnificent church.
    KATE
    "Since wonders promoted to a higher Senior regular the counterintelligence is as if
    (V.O.,
    communicating if because do-nothing Executive access program. I am being
    Hanssen dips his finger in the water, crosses himself, as HIS VOICE begins to over-ride Kate's, also in V.O.
    HANSSEN (V.O.)
    "
    Furthermore, I believe I have detected repeated bursting radio
    0)
    signal emanations from my vehicle.
    We watch from a HIGH-ANGLE as he moves to a CONFESSIONAL.

INT. CHURCH -
    CONTINUING
    186
    Darkness. Then a tiny SCREEN slides open, revealing Hanssen.
    HANSSEN
    "
    (V.O.,
    I
    found their not source, but as you wisely do, I will leave this alone, for knowledge of their existence is sufficient."

INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    RESUMING
    187
    We're on his face, as he types out the words:
    HANSSEN
    "Amusing
    (V.O.,
    the

INT. CHURCH - CONFESSIONAL -
    RESUMING
    188
    Hanssen has been in here for a while nOW. We MOVE IN TIGHT.
    HANSSEN
    "
    (V.O.,
    this,
    In however, I strongly suspect that you should have concerns for the integrity of your compartment concerning knowledge of my efforts on your behalf." A single tear rolls down his cheek. He rises, exits.

INT. HANSSEN HOME -
    NIGHT
    189
    Hanssen opens the TRUNK of his Taurus. Inside we find that LAWN & LEAF BAG, sealed.
    HANSSEN
    'iSomething tiger.
    (V.O.,
    has aroused the sleeping Perhaps you know better
    He removes the lawn & leaf bag from the trunk.

INT. WFO -
    RESUMING
    190
    Kate comes to the end of the letter..

EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
    Hanssenis Taurus pulls up to the curb outside Eric & Juliana's building. He eyes the front door..
    HANSSEN
    "Life is
    & KATE
    full
    "
    downs.
    Hanssen cuts his engine. END INTERCUT. We DISSOLVE TO:

INT. WFO -
    RESUMING
    192
    A pall of gloom now hangs over Kate and her team. Eric too.
    KATE
    Okay. If he doesn't make another drop, what do we have?
    NECE
    We've got the Palm Pilot. That still gives us Conspiracy to Commit Espionage.
    KATE
    .\*until he walks into court with a
    iawyer who says that everything gE the Palm Pilot was just notes for a spy novel he was planning to write.
    SHERIN
    We've got the evidence from his trunk, Unauthorized Possession of Classified Material.
    KATE
    That's five years -
    hardly enough to make him talk. That hovers. These guys are screwed, and they know it.
    LOPER
    Maybe we just keep promoting him.
    (they turn)
    Might be the only way to keep him from retiring.
    KATE
    shit..
    Just then, PLESAC ENTERS, urgently, with news:
    PLESAC
    He's outside your apartment.
    (Eric turns)
    He I s aarked outside Your aaartment. Just pulled up.
    That stops things cold in here. But before Eric can react, his CELL-PHONE rings. He eyes the incoming number, then looks to Plesac:
    ERIC
    It's him.

EXT. 4TH STREET -
    MOMENTS LATER
    (NIGHT)
    TIRES SQUEAL as a FORD EXPLORER pulls away from the WFO.

INT. KATEJ S CAR -
    MOVING
    -
    Kate speeds through a RED LIGHT, Eric beside her.
    KATE
    How drunk did he sound?
    ERIC
    I don't
    know, he wasn't slurring or anything. Maybe surlier than usual but that's it.
    KATE
    The ghosts said he's been driving all over the place tonight. Spent an hour in his church, then drove to your place.
    ERIC
    Has he gotten out of the car? Did they say? Juliana's alone in there.
    KATE
    He hasn't gotten out of the CSf.
    She goes a little faster. That's fine with Eric..
    ERIC
    The guy's melting down.
    KATE
    That would bother me a little less if he didn't have a dozen guns in his trunk.
    ERIC
    Drop me off here, okay? It's right around the corner.
    KATE
    I know where it is.
    Kate pulls over at:

EXT. 8TH STREET -
    EASTERN
    CONTINUING
    MARKET
    195
    Eric gets out 8th Street. on A passing CAR splashes into a deep POTHOLE, sending slush toward us. He pauses, thinking just decided something. He taps on the passenger-side window. Kate lowers it. Somehow, before he's said a word, she knows what's coming:
    ERIC
    We've got a team on his tail, right?
    KATE
    Uh-huh.
    ERIC
    Can we pull 'em back?
    She eyes him, entirely unsurprised.
    KATE
    Now why would we wanna do that?
    ERIC
    I think I can still work him. I think I can get him to make that drop.
    KATE
    Do you need me to read that letter again, Eric? There is no drop. He's going to ground.
    ERIC
    No, he's dying to make it. We just have to make him feel safe.
    KATE
    What if he's made you?
    ERIC
    What if
    he has? Bumper-locking him won't make me any safer. (she considers that) Please. I can handle him... but not if he picks up a tail. Kate sighs. She knows he's not wrong.
    KATE
    Okay. I'll call Dean.
    The window goes up and Kate pulls into traffic, reaching for\* her cell-phone. One last look at Eric, then she's gone. Eric watches her go, then approaches the corner of 8th & E. We TRACK HIM on his way. He turns the corner.. . \*and spots Hanssenis Taurus, parked 100 feet away, right outside the apartment. Eric pauses, readying himself, then \* approaches..

EXT. OUTSIDE HANSSEN'S CAR -
    MOMENTS
    LATER
    An empty bottle of Gin sits by Hanssen's side. An "Andrews Sisters" song plays on his stereo. Hanssen stares, until:
    ERIC (O. S.)
    Ten minutes, as promised.
    Hanssen turns sleepily, as Eric leans in the open window.
    ERIC
    Caught me coming right out of the Metro.
    HANS SEN
    Why didn't you drive?
    That sounded drunk. And angry.
    ERIC
    Juliana needed the car. I felt like walking anyway.
    HANSSEN
    why? Something on your mind?
    ERIC
    Not especially.
    HANSSEN
    Get in. I want some company.
    Eric pauses... as a non-descript SEDAN pulls by them. Connors is driving it. The sedan vanishes. Eric is on his OWn nOW..
    ERIC
    Sure.
    Eric opens the door, climbs in. We do too.

INT. HANSSEN' S CAR -
    CONTINUING
    197
    Eric looks Hanssen over, searching for a weapon: in Hanssen's jacket? Inside that ankle holster?
    HANSSEN
    (quoting himself:)
    lilt is against
    Bureau policy for an Agent to consume alcohol. Ever. Even off-duty... because an FBI Agent is ii Director never off-duty Freeh.
    ERIC
    Ya wanna go across the street, get a
    cup of coffee or--
    HANSSEN
    Can I trust you?
    Eric freezes. That was so stark, so direct.
    ERIC
    Of course... Don't you know that?
    HANSSEN
    I don't know what I know anymore.
    Then Hanssen hits the gas. We move OUTSIDE ERIC'S WINDOW as the Taurus pulls away. Looks like we're going for a ride..

EXT. D. C. -
    16TH
    MOVING
    AND MORROW
    -
    LATER
    NIGHT
    The Taurus glides by us, against the backdrop of ROCK CREEK PARK. It's huge, vast... and dark.

INT. HANSSEN'S CAR -
    SAME
    199
    Another Andrews Sisters song plays. Hanssen taps a finger to it, deOinitely drunk, and looks over his shoulder, out the back window. They've been silent for ten minutes.
    ERIC
    This the music of your childhood or something?
    HANSSEN
    It's the music of my father's childhood.
    More silence... as Hanssen moves into the LEFT-HAND TURN LANE. Nothing but a pitch-black PARK over there..
    ERIC
    What's in Rock Creek?
    HANSSEN
    Ilike the park at night.
    He makes the turn. We watch from across the street as the Taurus disappears into the park.

199A INT. C-TOC - KATE' S CUBICLE - SAME 199A
    Kate sits at her desk, staring at her phone. Beside it is her cel-phone. Neither is ringing. We PUSH-IN on her, landing tight on her face... Then MATCH CUT TO:

199B INT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    SAME
    (NIGHT)
    We're tight on Juliana, sitting up in bed, pensive. Her phone isn't ringing either. Where the hell is Eric? We leave her there, PULLING BACK... then:

199C EXT. HANSSEN'S TAURUS - MOVING - MINUTES LATER 199C
    HEADLIGHTS from Hanssen's Taurus play on an unlit road. All else is darkness, surrounded by a frozen creek and WOODS.

INT. HANSSEN'S TAURUS -
    MOVING -:
    CONTINUING
    200
    The Andrews Sisters continue to sing away. Eric looks around, trying to guess what's coming. But Hanssen's not saying a word. It's just a silent, slow drive. The speedometer reads 15 m.p.h. .. and there's nowhere for Eric to go. He just has to sit.

EXT. ROCK CREEK PARK -
    ROAD
    -
    Hanssen's Taurus pulls toward us, parking at the entrance to a thin TRAIL. We peer inside the car, the two men sitting. Hanssen reaches for the Gin by his side, has another swig. Eric tries not to stare.
    HANSSEN
    Hafta be sure that I can trust you.
    ERIC
    Why donit we go back to the ofOice?
    You can polygraph me.
    HANSSEN
    (with disdain)
    Ever heard of Aldrich Ames?
    ERIC
    Of COUFSe.
    HANS SEN
    Worst spy in U. S. history, sold 2. 5
    million dollars worth of information to the Soviets... and passed every polygraph the Agency gave him. (a beat) But he never would've gotten past me. I can read anyone. Just then, Eric's PAGER RINGS. That's not good; Hanssen glares at the sound as Eric glances at the readout.
    HANSSEN
    I'm getting really tired of that pager.
    Before Eric can reply, Hanssen gets out of the car. Eric calls out to his back:
    ERIC
    What're we doing?
    HANSSEN
    I told you: the FBI's a gun-culture. Ya can't advance here unless you can shoot.
    With that, Hanssen's walking toward that trail into the woods. Eric gets out of the Taurus..

EXT. ROCK CREEK PARK -
    CONTINUING
    202
    Cold enough to see your breath out here. Hanssen heads for a dense wood by the creek not a bad place
    -
    to dump a body,
    (Chandra Levy will be found here in less than a year.)
    Eric follows, twigs and snow crackling under their feet.
    HANSSEN
    They test you at 25 yards, 15 yards, seven yards, and five yards.
    .\*which is when Hanssen stops, and pulls his. 38 from a holster. .. and FIRES at a nearby BRANCH, a deafening sound. The branch is decimated.
    ERIC
    What're you--?
    HANSSEN
    You wanna be an agent, or don't you?
    He turns and FIRES AGAIN, blowing away another branch. But this time the gun is closer to Eric.
    HANSSEN
    Prone, left hand, right hand, five- yards-with-gun-in-holster. You get three seconds to fire five shots.
    Then BANG! Another blast. Eric shies away.
    ERIC
    What're you doing?!
    HANS SEN
    Who was that calling you, in the car?
    ERIC
    What? !
    Another SHOT. Eric spins away, moving clockwise to stay out of range.
    HANSSEN
    I need to know if I can trust you.
    ERIC
    Put the gun down, Boss.
    HANSSEN
    Who was calling you?
    PUT THE
    FUCKING
    I
    Hanssen's stands
    NEED TO KNOW IF I
    fires over
    Then... CLICK. His. 38 is empty. There's a surprised silence for a moment. No one moving. until Eric, still on the ground, finally erupts:
    ERIC
    Can I trustyou? Jesus!
    (no reply)
    Godsakes, what is wrong with you?!
    Hanssen doesn't answer. Eric gets to his feet.
    ERIC
    Look around you, Boss: it's just us out here. Nobody's tailing you, there isn't any GPS On yOUf CSf. And I'm not a foreign agent trying to work you. You don't matter that much.
    There it was - a lie that is 100% true. And it stung.
    ERIC
    The page was Juliana,
    from obviously. Mv wife. She's trying to reach me because I told her I'd be home by now and because we're in another fight, caused by you as usual. Thanks for dropping by unannounced and lecturing her about Opus Dei, that was real helpful. And thanks for staring at her in church like she was from Mars. That also worked out great. Lemme guess, you were testing her too. Ya know she asked me this morning why you're like this, why you grind everybody so hard. And I had all these answers ready: "Heis misunderstood ii llHe's trying to fix the Bureau and no one ill listen." "He was born in the wrong century." "His father was a prick." live got a whole list. But ya know something? At the end of the day it's all crap. You are who you are. The why doesn't mean a thing. Does it? (Hanssen's silent)
    DOES IT?!
    Hanssen considers that, his face a blank.
    . then he turns without a word, and starts a slow drunken walk back toward the CSf. Conversation over. But he stops just long enough to lean in toward Eric, their faces almost touching, as:
    HANSSEN
    I matter plenty.
    He vanishes into a thicket of woods. We hear his shoulders rubbing against the brush. Eric doesn't move. He can't.
    EXT.
    203
    ERIC
    -
    Eric emerges from the Taurus. He waits until it drives \* away... waits another beat to be certain... then grabs his \* and dials. \* cel-phone
    KATE'S
    204
    CUBICLE
    INTERCUT
    AT -
    Kateis at her desk. Her CELL-PHONE rings. She grabs it, reading the incoming number:
    KATE
    Yes,
    CINTO CEL)
    Eric.
    ERIC
    Get
    CTHRUCEL)
    the
    discreet. He'll make the drop. Tomorrow, maybe even tonight.
    KATE
    You're
    CINTO CEL)
    not
    ERIC (THRU CEL)
    No. I'm not burnt.
    KATE
    Okay.
    CINTO CEL)
    We're
    Eric enters his building. We DISSOLVE TO: \*

INT. /EXT. HANSSEN'S CAR -
    PARKED -:
    DAY
    (4 P.M.)
    Hanssen, sitting in his Taurus, parked at a curb on Fairway Drive in Vienna, Va. We DRIFT IN toward him, slowly, as he stares out the window at the trees. Hard to say exactly what he's thinking just now, but there's a certain resignation on his face, a yielding to something inevitable. We land on a CLOSE-UP. He sighs.
    EXT.
    205A
    WOGDS
    -
    A camouflaged FBI GU lies in the brush, looking through a \* pair of binoculars, waiting. \*

INT. WFO - C-TOC -
    SAME
    206
    As always, FOUR TV MONITORS line the front wall of the C-TOC. On one is C-SPAN. On #2 is a feed from inside 9930. On #3 is the feed from the corridor outside 9930. But on screen #4 we're seeing a LIVE FEED from the dashboard of a vehicle of some kind. The vehicle is parked across the street from a Radio Shack in Vienna, Virginia. Kate sits, staring at that fourth monitor... The room bustles over her shoulder. 207 EXT. HANSSENiS CAR - PARKED -:
    RESUMING
    207
    Hanssen gets out, opens the trunk... That sealed LAWN & LEAF BAG awaits, beside CHALK and TAPE.

207A EXT. WOODS -
    SAME
    207A
    A SECOND CAMOUFLAGED FBI GUY watches from a distance. He \* clicks his walkie-talkie twice. \*

EXT. FOXSTONE PARK -
    ENTRANCE -:
    CONTINUING
    208
    Lawn & Leafbag in hand, Hanssen crosses Fairway Drive as it slopes toward a large PARK. A wooden SIGN marks its entrance: i'Foxstone Park. il He passes the sign and enters.

INT. FBI VAN -
    SAME
    209
    We hear a SIGNAL coming through a VAN DRIVERFS earpiece. \* Then, behind the Driver, a SWAT TEAM prepares: a clip is \* rammed into a sub-machine gun, vests are snapped on.. \*

EXT. FOXSTONE PARK -
    FOOTBRIDGE -:
    MOMENTS LATER
    210
    Through bare trees we see the houses that overlook this park. Hanssen, standing at a tiny FOOTBRIDGE, eyes the houses. And he sighs. Then he climbs UNDER the footbridge, stows that lawn & leaf bag there.. and walks away.

21OA INT. FBI VAN -
    RESUMING
    21OA
    The sighting on a sniper's rifle is calibrated. \*

EXT. FOXSTONE PARK -
    TRAIL -:
    CONTINUING
    Hanssen feel the He stops CHALK from his pocket,
    211
    walks oddly buzzing at that park-entrance and draws a single
    sign. Then he pockets the chalk. 2llA EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. - SAME 2llA Eric sits on the stoop, alone.

EXT. FAIRWAY DRIVE -
    MOMENTS LATER
    212
    Hanssen walks up the incline from the park entrance to his car. Fairway Drive is quiet and calm. \*\*until he hears a SHARP SOUND, to his right: a VAn DOOR, sliding open quickly. He turns. . -SS FIVE SWAT GUYS explode out of a WHITE VAN, bearing SUB- ACHINEGUNS.: THEN HE HEARS THE SQUEALING OF BRAKES... AND A SECOND VAN APPEARS, OUT OF NOWHERE, FOLLOWED BY A WHITE FORD EXCURSION.: HIS HEAD SWIVELS... A TOTAL OF TWELVE AGENTS, ARMED TO THE TEETH, NOW CLOSE IN ON HIM. HE FREEZES.:
    SWAT AGENT #1
    You're under arrest! Put your hands in the air!

INTERCUT WITH/INT. WFO - C-TOC -
    RESUMING
    213
    TV MONITOR #4, we now realize, is picking up the feed from inside the Excursion at the arrest site. So Kate is watching all this live, without sound. Kate reaches for a phone and dials, her face a mask.

213A EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. -
    RESUMING
    213A
    Eric's pager CHIRPS. He reaches for it. i, 'i The readout says: 7# We Got Him.

EXT. FAIRWAY DRIVE -
    RESUMING
    214
    In a blur, Hanssen is surrounded. SWAT AGENT #2, his weapon inches from Hanssen's face, grabs Hanssen's car keys.
    HANSSEN
    The guns won't be necessary. The guns won't be necessary.

214A EXT. ERIC & JULIANA'S APT. - RESUMING 214A
    We PUSH IN on Eric as he absorbs the news..

EXT. FAIRWAY DRIVE -
    RESUMING
    215
    Hanssen is cuffed and led to the Excursion... where Plesac awaits. Hanssen pauses in front of him, almost smiling.
    HANSSEN
    Maybe now you'll listen.
    PLESAC
    It's a sad day for all of us, Bob.
    Hanssen is shoved into the Excursion. The others pile in. The Excursion pulls away, followed by the white vans. An agent jumps into Hanssen's Taurus and drives it away as well.

EXT. FAIRWAY DRIVE -
    RESUMING
    216
    . -and Fairway Drive is Fairway Drive again - no sign that anything out of the ordinary has occurred.
    INT.
    SAME
    ERIC
    Eric enters. Juliana's at the desk. She turns. \*
    JUL IANA \*
    Hi. \*
    Their eyes meet. He looks shaken. \*
    JULIANA (CONTFD) \*
    Everything okay? \*
    He crosses to her, touches her face, kisses her. \*
    ERIC \*
    Everything's fine. \*
    They're going to be okay, these two. We leave them there. \*

RB-216 INT. FORD EXCURSION -
    MOVING -:
    DAY
    RB-216
    The arrest was two minutes ago. Now Hanssen sits in the back \* seatl cuffed, with an AGENT on each side of him. Plesac sits \* up front. It's been a silent ride.. \*
    PLESAC \*
    Can I give you some advice, Bob? \*
    (Hanssen doesn't reply) \* I've been in on a few of these now: \* Nicholson, Aldrich Ames. It goes a \* lot easier if you co-operate. On you, \* on your family. \*
    HANSSEN \*
    You really ought to do an overhaul of \*
    your GPS units, Dean. They throw off \* a signal burst through the radio. \* Canit the Bureau come up with better \* technology than that? \*
    PLESAC \*
    We never had a GPS on your car, Bob. \*
    HANS SEN \*
    oh. \*
    Hanssen shrinks a bitl thrown. Plesac stays on point: \*
    PLESAC \*
    Even if all you give them is why you \* did it... it buys you some goodwill. \*
    (no reply) \* That's what Ames did, at first anyway \* just gave up the why. \*
    HANSSEN \*
    Must not've taken long. All Ames \* cared about was the money. \*
    PLESAC \*
    why else would he have done it? \*
    In other words: Why the fuck have you been betraying your \* country for 22 years? Hanssen almost smiles. Almost. \*
    HANSSEN \*
    Oh, it's not so hard to guess, is it? \* Considering the human ego? \*
    (Plesac waitsl \* Imagine sitting in a room with a \* bunch of your colleagues, everybody \* trying to find a mole. And all the \* while, it's you they're looking for. \* That must be... very satisfying, \* wouldn't you think? \* Plesac doesn't answer. \* HANSSEN (CONTrD) \* Or maybe he considered himself a \* patriot. Maybe he saw it as his duty \* to show us how lax our security was. \* Maybe he-- \* Hanssen stops himself. Something just hit him: \*
    HANSSEN (CONT'D) \*
    Aw, what good does speculating do? He \* spied. The why doesn't mean a thing, \* does it? \*
    PLESAC \*
    No. I guess it doesn't. \*
    The Excursion pulls away from us. We DISSOLVE TO: \*

R-217 INT. FBI HQ -
    HANSSEN'S
    R-217
    OFFICE
    -
    Eric stands in the doorway, carrying a CARDBOARD BOX. It's \* moving-out day. He pauses for one last look around: \* All of Hanssen's things remain in place. Pictures, a \* crucifix, that painting of two guys on a boat, the \* rowing machine. Eric takes it all in, turns to go. \* Then he hears those THREE BEEPS again, coming from the SCIF \* door. He tenses a bit... until Kate enters. She looks the \* place over - fascinated but detached. \* Then she spots that painting on the wall. \*
    KATE \*
    Two guys on a boat. \*
    Eric smiles, Kate drifts in. \* KATE (CONTaD) \* Did you see the Director's press \* conference? \*
    ERIC \*
    yeah. \*
    KATE \*
    Funny about those things. He thanked \* the CIA and the U. S. Attorney's \* Office, the Counsel for Intelligence \* Policy... but he couldn't thank the \*
    guy we put behind that desk. You're \* classified now. \*
    Eric knows that. \*
    KATE (CONT'D) \*
    I'm on my way to the Field Office. \* We've still got two Russian I.O.'s \* unaccounted for. \*
    (re: the cardboard box) \* This mean me you won't be heading \* over there with me? \*
    ERIC \*
    Thought I'd go home instead. \*
    KATE \*
    You're gonna make agent, Eric. That's \* set now. Isn't that what you wanted? \*
    ERIC \*
    It was. \*
    KATE \*
    ..until you came to my apartment and \*
    saw the tv dinner and no cat. \* She was kidding there - she hopes. Eric just lets it \* go.
    KATE (CONT'D) \*
    Most of our agents are married, ya \* know. Their spouses all get used to \* the life eventually. So will Juliana. \*
    ERIC \*
    I don't think I want her to. \*
    KATE \*
    Oh. Thatis different. \*
    ERIC \*
    Yeah. \*
    KATE \*
    Yeah. \*
    Conversation's over. Kate knows that. So she has to this: \* say
    KATE (CONT'D) \*
    You know
    how much you did here, don't \* you? That was the worst spy in \* American history you just took down. \* How can you walk away after that? \*
    ERIC \*
    Can you think of a better time to \* walk away? \*
    Kate, for the first time, doesn't have an answer. \*
    KATE \*
    No. \*
    ERIC \*
    S0.. \*
    Kate nods, giving her blessing. Eric turns to go. \* .but he stops before getting there. Just spotted something: \* On the desk is one of those fat blue Doctor-Grip Pens. Eric\* eyes it, looks to Kate. \*
    ERIC (CONT'D) \*
    Think it'd be okay if I. ? \*
    KATE \*
    I'd say you'd earned it. \*
    He puts the pen in his box, heads out. \*
    KATE (CONT'D) \*
    Good luck, Eric. \*
    ERIC \*
    You too. \*
    One last look, then he leaves 9930 for the last time. We \* remain on Kate as the door to the SCIF closes.. \* OMIT

INT. FBI HQ -
    9TH
    MOMENTS LATER
    FLOOR CORRIDOR
    219
    Eric passes a GLASS CASE boasting a display of the FBI's HISTORIC ARRESTS. Beside it is a FLIER for a party to honor a RETIRING SECRETARY's 35 years of service. Cake and cookies. He turns a corner, heading for a bank of elevators.

INT. FBI HQ -
    BANK
    CONTINUING
    OF ELEVATORS
    220
    Ten feet away, a pair of elevator doors begin to close. Eric hurries over, knifing his free hand between the closing doors. They open... And he freezes.
    ERIC
    oh.
    Robert Hanssen, master-spy, is inside the elevator, flanked by Plesac and an FBI COP. Hanssen's hands are cuffed. Eric stands stiffly, no idea what to say. The moment hangs. Hanssen eyes his would-be protege, then utters the last words Eric will ever hear from him:
    HANSSEN
    Pray for me?
    Eric's jaw nearly drops. But then..
    ERIC
    I will.
    He backs away, allowing the elevator doors to close. As the doors come together, we MOVE IN ON HANSSEN. .. and an odd thing happens: the light above him begins to im. Then it starts to vanish entirely. He looks up, confused, as the doors meet one another, and Hanssen is in utter blackness. We leave him there, and.
    FADE OUT

Summary: Eric O'Neill is a young ambitious FBI employee assigned to work undercover as a clerk to Robert Hanssen, a senior agent he is told is suspected of being a sexual deviant. Hanssen has been recalled from a detail post at the State Department to FBI headquarters ostensibly to head up a new division specializing in Information Assurance. Initially, Hanssen insists on a strict formality between the two men. He frequently rails against the bureaucracy of the FBI and complains that only those who regularly "shoot guns" are considered for senior positions instead of those, like himself, who are involved in vital national security matters. He calls the bureau's information technology systems antiquated and laments the lack of coordination and information exchange with other intelligence agencies. Eventually, Hanssen becomes a friend and mentor to O'Neill and takes a personal interest in him and his wife Juliana, who is suspicious of Hanssen and resents his intrusions. A devout Catholic who is also a member of Opus Dei, Hanssen urges O'Neill, a lapsed Catholic, and his secular East German-born wife to become active churchgoers. O'Neill finds no evidence of Hanssen leading a secret double life and develops a growing respect for his boss, leading him to confront his handler in the undercover assignment, Kate Burroughs. She admits that the sexual deviance allegations are only a secondary consideration and that Hanssen is suspected of having spied for the Soviet Union and Russia for years and being responsible for the deaths of agents working for the United States. The entire Information Assurance Division that Hanssen now heads was created specifically to lure him away from his previous job as liaison to the State Department, and his office was specially constructed with hidden surveillance equipment. The investigation already includes fifty agents, and is personally overseen by FBI Director Louis Freeh, who has been reading O'Neill's reports on Hanssen. Although the FBI already has enough evidence to arrest Hanssen, Director Freeh wants to catch Hanssen in the act of making a drop so that their case against him will be airtight, ensuring that he will cooperate once arrested and not retaliate by exposing more undercover agents and informants. O'Neill is ordered to obtain data from Hanssen's Palm Pilot and keep him occupied while FBI agents search his car and plant covert listening devices in it. The tracking devices in Hanssen's car cause interference with the radio, which makes Hanssen suspicious. He also wonders why he was placed in an isolated position in the FBI only a few months before he is scheduled to retire. He tells O'Neill he believes he is being watched by Russian agents. The FBI intercepts a message he sends to his Russian handlers saying he will not provide any more information. O'Neill convinces Hanssen that he is not being trailed by the Russians or by him on behalf of the FBI. With his confidence restored, Hanssen makes one last dead drop of stolen information and the FBI catches him in the act. Although he is assured promotion, O'Neill is discouraged by the toll the case has taken on his marriage and opts to leave the agency. When O'Neill leaves his office with his belongings, he unexpectedly encounters Hanssen in an elevator being escorted by arresting officers. A tearful Hanssen asks O'Neill to pray on his behalf, and O'Neill promises he will.