BOND 23
A completely unpublishable screenplay by Tysyacha
GUN LOGO OPENS ON
MOSCOW, RUSSIA, a vibrant and decadent city where the glittering excesses of 21st-century capitalism coexist with the ruins of Soviet Communism and the still-revered icons of the past. It is at once pristine and prostituted, shimmering and squalid, holy and a hedonistic haven.
INT. LAVISH BALLROOM--NIGHT
JAMES BOND, dressed in a tuxedo much too dark for his taste and a black silk tie, deftly maneuvers his way through a crowd of partygoers. The men are all dressed much as he is, while the women wear luxurious evening gowns that barely cover the top half of their bodies (if that). BOND glances at a few of the latter appreciatively, but he still has Camille and Vesper Lynd in the back of his mind. He's here on business, although pleasure may intertwine...He flips on his cell phone to speak to his contact, the illustrious M from MI6.
BOND: Are you sure he's here?
M (Is shown on the other end of the line, her lips drawn tight.) Mm-hmm. This is Moscow, you know, and New Year's Eve.
BOND: Multibillionaires don't often miss these kinds of parties.
M: Nor do intelligence agents. Be careful, Bond. (Pause.) Oh, and 007?
BOND: Yes?
M: Don't keep opting for the last resort as your first.
BOND: Don't worry. I'll keep all my 'dead ends' to a minimum.
BOND continues winding his way through the crowd, when he is suddenly met by his Moscow contact, an Asian trader in metals, MANGE RE FRO. FRO is flanked by two bodyguards, KANG and G.T. HU. FRO extends his hand.
FRO: Mr. Bond? (BOND nods.) Mange Re Fro. Please follow me.
He motions with his hand for BOND to follow, and 007 obeys, with G.T. HU and KANG bringing up the rear. They seat themselves on a burgundy suede sofa near the bar, with BOND sitting opposite in a matching armchair. Between them sits a perfectly-polished mahogany table. One notices that the bodyguard, KANG is holding a nondescript black briefcase.
BOND: I hear you're interested in trading with Universal Exports.
FRO: Yes, Mr. Bond. I deal in copper, especially the kind used for wiring. If possible, I would like to purchase the metal if it has not been strip-mined. (He smiles wryly.) With all the endless hand-wringing and speculation about the environment nowadays, I find it good business practice to buy materials with the--highest rating of so-called 'eco-friendliness.'
BOND: (After a pause.) Are you familiar with Greene Planet?
FRO: (Scoffs.) That organization is for charity. What I buy, I use in the service of profit. Greene Planet hugs trees. I hug these. (He squeezes the hip of a passing RUSSIAN WAITRESS, who smiles and chuckles at him.)
BOND: Charming. How much are you willing to pay for the copper, Mr. Fro?
FRO signals for KANG to place the briefcase on the table and open it. KANG does, his face as nondescript as the case. It is filled with large bills. Neither man bats an eyelash; they are almost android-like in their lack of emotion.
FRO: Ten million dollars, for starters. I expect this arrangement to be long-term. (He slides the suitcase closer to BOND, who inspects the money more carefully. It is just as BOND suspects: the bills are counterfeit, expertly forged by LE CHIFFRE, a late banker for the world's cruelest terrorists. BOND decides not to call FRO out on his fraudulent offer. Instead, the corner of BOND's mouth turns up in a smirk, as if he is impressed with the money.)
BOND: You have a deal. (He stands up, as does FRO, and the two men clasp hands firmly. However, little does BOND know that FRO has a switch-blade knife up his sleeve. A button is flicked, and the knife cuts deep into BOND'S right wrist. He clenches his teeth in pain, the cuff of his white dress shirt being quickly stained red. He grabs the suitcase with his left hand and begins to flee. KANG and G.T. HU draw their pistols and begin firing rapidly.
The partygoers shout and scream, and the camera switches to BOND'S FIRST-PERSON POINT OF VIEW as he continues to dodge bullets. He glances around as various well-dressed people, both men and women, crumple to the floor at the moment of unconsciousness or death. BOND barely has time to think as he dashes out of the SHERATON PALACE HOTEL, MOSCOW, where the New Year's Eve party is being held. He sprints out into the street, nearly being hit by the swarm of blinding traffic. Horns honk, tires squeal, and angry drivers curse. Finding a nearby snowbank, he dives into it and buries his wrist underneath the slush. He still clutches the briefcase, believe it or not...
A beautiful Russian pedestrian, VTORAYA LYUBOVNITSA, suddenly sees Bond sprawled in the snow, with much of it turning a deep shade of red-black all around him. VTORAYA herself wears a thick white head-scarf. It's chilly, and a light snow is falling.)
VTORAYA: (Dashes over to assist BOND.) Wait, wait--ya pomogu tebya, I will help you...(She takes off her head scarf and wraps it tightly around BOND'S wrist, tourniquet-style.) Hospital nearby, there is...
BOND: (Puts his hand on top of VTORAYA'S, and on top of the makeshift tourniquet. Thank you. Spasibo. By the way, what time is it?
VTORAYA: (Hears the chiming of the clock in Red Square.) Polnoch'. S novym godom. It's midnight. Happy New Year. (She smiles shyly.)
Daniel Craig as James Bond
http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/james-bond-11.jpg)
Dame Judi Dench as M
http://golos.in.ua/files/2007/judi_dench_bondiana.jpg)
Jet Li as Mange Re Fro
http://www.lahiguera.net/cinemania/actores/jet_li/fotos/49/jet_li.jpg)
Veronica Verekova as Vtoraya Lyubovnitsa
http://s.a.cnn.net/si/features/2004_swimsuit/images/gallery/popup/veronica_05.jpg)