Alien 3 script
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Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 Next page calf; flesh and muscle are blackened, charred by the acid. HICKS (unclipping a flat plastic kit from his harness) What's his name? JACKSON Tatsumi... HICKS Cocktail for ya, Tatsumi. He opens the kit, takes out a gun-shaped hypo with a pressure tank. HICKS (continuing) Can't get this on the Ginza, fella. Six times stronger than heroin, about eight other things in there to keep you up an' rockin'... He jabs the needle through Tatsumi's pantleg; the unit HISSES. HICKS (continui ng) Get a Marine a year in the brig, playin' R&R with one of these... Tatsumi moan softly as the shot hits him. Very clearly, in Japanese, he asks if it's time to go back on duty. LAB TECH Wha'd he say? SPENCE I don't know... HICKS We'll have to carry him. (passes Spence a sterile dressing pack from his harness) Think you can get a dressing on that? Not bleeding much. Like it's cauterized. (to Rosetti) Get up, we're moving. (to Jackson) Think you better hang on to the Colonel's rifle. INT. MALL -- ENTERANCE TO FREIGHT ELEVATOR The doors look as though someone's gone after them with a giant can opener; they're ragged, gaping. Bishop's hands sudd enly appear in the opening in the floor, grip the edge; he hauls himself up, arms quivering with strain. Last thing through is the useless leg; he has to pull it up with both hands. He looks anxiously out into the mall. Nothing moving, no Aliens in sight. The queen's attack as torn loose a strip of alloy trim. Bishop bends it double for strength and begins to work it beneath the belt around his thigh, still keeping an eye on the mall. INT. CORRIDOR TO ASSEMBLY POINT -- LIFEBOAT BAY Hicks and Jackson slogging along, dragging Tatsumi between them, Spence with the flare pistol, then Rosetti and the Lab Tech. Smoke hangs in strata. Spence coughs. They're all feeling Anchorpoint's fire-depleted oxygen-level. Tatsumi looks terrible: flushed, eyes glazed, but he's feeling no pain. He weakly attempts to sing a snatch of a Japanese pop song. CLOSEUP on his bandaged leg leaving a trail of yellow drops... LAB TECH That's right, man. Not long now. HICKS Hey, Jackson -- Goddamn, you were right. He's pointing his pulse-rifle at a plastic sign mounted on the corridor wall: LIFEBOAT BAY 20 METERS JACKSON (grins) Sure. Hadda map, didn't I? They round a corner. Ahead is one of the blue lights and another sign: LIFEBOAT LAUNCH ASSEMBLY POINT SPENCE The others groups... Where's everybody else? HICKS Hell, they coulda launched already... JACKSON No. She's looking at a wall panel with LEDs that indicate launch status of the lifeboats. JACKSON (continuing) The boats are all here. LAB TECH Then nobody else made it... Rosetti ignores them, keeps walking. JACKSON (looking after Rosetti) I shoulda greased him. HICKS Shit. What's the point? JACKSON The point? The point's he let 'em run their fucking experiments! He coulda stopped 'em! But he didn't! You tried, man, you and Bishop... He let 'em do it! HICKS Shit no. He's just brass. He's just like you an' me, to the people who brought this down. Wouldn't do any good to grease them either. JACKSON Bullshit! What not? HICKS Because what you wanna grease is the company... Rosetti breaks into a stumbling run as he nears the portal at the end of the corridor, the entrance to the lifeboat bays. CLOSEUP -- ROSETTI frant ically punching a combination. Wants that door to open. Gets it: slides back smooth as silk, revealing a brightly lit room filled with pristine space gear and an indeterminate number of Aliens, their appendages tangled black and shiny as a fresh catch of eels. ROSETTI No! Goddamn it! No! ANGLE The Aliens stir as he throws himself back down the corridor toward the others. Hicks drops Tatsumi, who sags into Jackson's arms, and raises his rifle. FIRES a bolt past Rosetti, into the heart of the mass. Rosetti claws his way by as Spence lets loose with the flare-pistol. All the ammo she has but it's a big red distress flare straight through the portal; it bursts, crimson lightning, scattering the Aliens. Now everyone is backing down the corridor, the way they came, Jackson burdened with Tatsumi. Rosetti fumbles with the combination on another door. Hicks is SHOOTING as he retreats. Aliens come darting out past the dying cherry brilliance of the flare, SCR EAMING down the corridor... The second door open for Rosetti -- he's through, the second Lab Tech on his heels. INT. AN OFFICE Dark -- only light from the corridor, even less are Rosetti immediately tries to slam and lock the door in Spence's face -- but the Lab Tech yanks him out of the way. The others tumble in, Jackson with Tatsumi in a fireman's carry. Hicks kicks the door shut and locks it -- as something SLAMS into it, hard. Jackson lowers Tatsumi to the carpeted floor. Hicks CLICKS the light on. Swings the muzzle of his gun around the room, circle of light jumping from one thing to the next. An office, larger than Rosetti's. 21st-century stylistics and a basic bureaucratic banality: fake teak, imitation leather. Framed portraits of beaming Weyland Yutani bigshots. Spence brushes a square object of a shelf -- the base of a small hologram- projector. A glowing DNA helix springs up. HICKS Don't touch anything... LA B TECH (to Jackson, pointing at Rosetti) He tried to lock the door, lock us out... JACKSON (pulling the automatic from her jacket) Rosetti... HICKS Forget it. That's what he wants. You really wanna do 'im the favor? JACKSON Waddya mean it's what he wants? |
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