Short screenplay from the Done Deal Christmas short contest,
Dec 2008
"Red Alert"
FADE IN:
INT. WELL-LIT CORRIDOR - NIGHT
Rapid FOOTSTEPS. We float along the corridor, just ahead of
whoever's marching behind us.
We turn a sharp left into another corridor and float towards
a door marked, "C.I.C. - COMMAND INFORMATION CENTER."
A MILITARY POLICEMAN opens the door for us, and we enter--
INT. COMMAND INFORMATION CENTER - NIGHT
Control panels and displays borrowed from SG-1.
SERGEANT PETE BOBBIN sits at his station, watching a radar
scope.
The door is opened by the MP outside, and LIEUTENANT HANK
SPITZBURGER storms in, all spit and polish.
SPITZBURGER
Hell's going on, Sergeant?
BOBBIN
Defense chain lit up five minutes
ago, sir. We have an inbound "X"
range thirty miles, speed five hundred
knots, heading right for us.
Spitzburger peers over Bobbin's shoulder. On the radar scope,
a contact FLASHES near the top of the screen. Little numbers
indicate range, velocity.
SPITZBURGER
Have you communicated with the
inbound?
BOBBIN
Inbound has refused parley.
SPITZBURGER
Have you nominated alert fighters?
BOBBIN
Two border interdiction F-18s are in
the air, estimated time to intercept,
three minutes. He'll be on top of
us before they get to him.
On the radar scope, the contact FLASH is much closer.
SPITZBURGER
We are going to Level One.
Spitzburger takes a key on a chain from around his neck.
Bobbin does the same.
They insert their keys into opposite ends of a control panel.
SPITZBURGER
On my mark, three, two, one.
On "one" they twist their keys at the same time.
EXT. SNOWBOUND WILDERNESS - NIGHT
A remote-controlled missile rack shakes off a covering of
snow, rotates and lifts its nose up so its twin missiles
point at the sky.
INT. COMMAND INFORMATION CENTER - NIGHT
BOBBIN
We have missile lock.
Spitzburger snatches up a microphone.
SPITZBURGER (INTO MIKE)
Unidentified aircraft you are in
violation of military airspace and
will be shot down if you continue on
your present course. Respond please.
They stare at a loudspeaker. It just HISSES.
SPITZBURGER
Unidentified aircraft this is your
last chance. Respond please.
More HISSING from the loudspeaker.
BOBBIN
Inbound will be over us in thirty
seconds, sir.
SPITZBURGER
I authorize you to shoot.
BOBBIN
Shooting now.
Bobbin flips up a protective cover and thumbs a red button.
EXT. SNOWBOUND WILDERNESS - NIGHT
The twin missiles blast from the launch rack and zip up into
the sky.
Seconds tick by... a section of the sky lights up briefly,
like a fireworks display, then darkens again.
INT. COMMAND INFORMATION CENTER - NIGHT
The radar scope is clear.
BOBBIN
Inbound has been destroyed, sir.
SPITZBURGER
Inform Command Six that we have taken
out an unidentified aircraft with
extreme prejudice. Squirt them
details and voice recordings.
Maintain Level One alert for thirty
minutes, then stand down if no further
activity.
BOBBIN
Yes, sir.
Spitzburger heads for the door. Before he exits, a telephone
RINGS. Bobbin picks up the receiver.
BOBBIN (INTO PHONE)
C.I.C. go ahead.
As he listens, Bobbin's frown deepens.
SPITZBURGER
What is it?
BOBBIN
Observation station reports falling
debris, sir.
SPITZBURGER
Can they tell what type of aircraft?
Bobbin listens some more, then hangs up.
BOBBIN
That's what's confusing them, sir.
SPITZBURGER
We'll send out a team in the morning--
BOBBIN
Animal guts, sir. And... toys.
Thousands and thousands of toys.
Realization hits them. Spitzburger and Bobbin exchange
horrified looks.
EXT. SNOWBOUND WILDERNESS - NIGHT
A blackened, smoking teddy bear with one eye hanging out
lies on a field of white snow, surrounded by splotches of
bright red blood, a tragic casualty.
Tilt up at the dark sky.
Faint sound of BELLS a-jingling.
FADE OUT
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