Blood Brothers
A Screenplay by: Sean Ryan For my Dad.
Contact: seansshack@oceanfree.net
Registered with Screenwriter's Guild (c) 2005
INT. HELICOPTER HOLD - DAY A group of marines sit in the passenger hold, of a Blackhawk helicopter. Dave, one of the marines, twenty two. Well built and tanned, dressed in marine issue urban combat gear, sits looking at the other marines in front of him. The helicopter's rotors start to spin, as it prepares for take off. DAVE (V.O.) My name is David. Dave to my friends. This is my story. I hope is doesn't feel like some bad country and western song. A SERGEANT shouts some orders. A large built, African American man, in his late thirties. The look on his face, along with several showing scars, spell put combat experience. SERGEANT (shouting) Remember, we are going in hot. Stay alert. Watch for snipers. EXT. MARINE HELICOPTER PAD - DAY The helicopter starts to take off. Sand kicks into the air, in all directions. It is accompanied by both a Blackhawk and a Chinook transport copter. INT. HELICOPTER HOLD - MOMENTS LATER SERGEANT (shouting) OK. Lock and load. With almost robotic precision, each of the men on the helicopter starts to load their weapons. Each marine loading a magazine of ammunition, checks the weapon and loads a bullet into the rifle chamber. Each marine looking disciplined, trained and experienced. The flight carries the troops over several populated areas. The scenery shows battle damaged houses and buildings. Smoke raises from different locations. Dave observes the ground below from the open door of the copter. DAVE (V.O.) This was the first country outside the USA I had been to. It looks so peaceful from the air. A sort of damaged beauty. The helicopter rides were a roller coaster ride, only better. You really felt like a cog in a big machine. EXT. HELICOPTER LANDING PAD - MOMENT LATER The helicopter touches down. The men disembark with efficient speed. Running and covering each other, from possible attack. The copters take off and hovers the area. The door-mounted gunner scans the area for possible threats. The Sergeant relays hand signals and the marines start to group into patrol formation. Dave walks as part of the patrol, through a battle damaged street. Very few locals can be seen. A woman observes from a window. A girl looks on from a trench, her father running out to drag her into a house. The patrol is heavily armed. Several armored Humvee's lead and one is driven at the rear. A Blackhawk helicopter roars overhead, kicking up sand from the rooftops of several buildings. Marines shield their faces from the mini sand storm. DAVE (V.O.) As long as I could remember, I had always wanted to be a soldier. The first time I stepped foot on that sand. I felt so, so fucking powerful. That armor on my chest, that weapon in my hands. Dave grips the carbine rifle in his hands. DAVE (V.O.) For the first time in my life, I felt like I finally belonged. I felt like no one, nothing could fuck with me. I was armor platted. Army of one man. Infucking destructible. A man looks at Dave and then down at his feet, avoiding eye contact. Dave smiles to himself and continues his patrol. DAVE (V.O.) How quickly all that can change. Dave walks past a parked Humvee. He nods at the soldier manning the mounted machine gun. The man nods back and smiles. Suddenly the man is struck by something. His head rocks to one side as part of his face disappears. He falls to the ground, dead. Dave freezes for a split second, before diving to the ground, making himself a smaller target. DAVE (Shouting) Incoming. Sniper! He scans the area for possible attack positions. But cannot focus in on a single attacker. The attack seems to be coming from several directions. Muzzle flashes from various windows, roof tops. Dave tries to focus on one target, but the attacking fire is too heavy. DAVE (V.O.) Veterans of combat will tell you that skill and training is what kept them alive. From my experience, it's just pure luck. A life lottery. Only this time, you lose when your number comes up. He throws his weapon from side to side. Shooting at the muzzle flashes. He attempts to lay down as much fire as possible. Men fall in all directions. The patrol has been caught off guard and are now paying the price. A medic runs to attend the man on the Humvee, but fails to make it. A bullet meets it mark, in the centre of his chest and he dies before his body impacts with the sand. Dave crawls to him. Bullets hits spray sand into his face, but he pushes on regardless. He drags the medic away from the Humvee, just before the vehicle rolls over him. Dave drags the man behind a broken wall. He examines him, finding the medic clearly dead. DAVE Dammit. Dave leans his weapon over the top of the wall, firing blindly. He attempts to look over and almost looses his head as a result. The top section of the wall almost explodes, under bullet hits. A fragment of stone propels from the impact, tearing a small hole in Dave's check. He yelps in pain and shock, but caries on without stopping to examine his wounds. A Blackhawk helicopter flies overhead. Its machine gunner offering covering fire. The sounds from its guns and rotor, almost deafening, drowning out everything else. Dave talks the opportunity to run to another position, under covering fire from above He makes it halfway to his destination, when he is blown to the ground by an explosion above. As the helicopter is hit by an RPG. The remains of the helicopter spins out of control, crash landing only feet in front of him. Men fall from the craft, burning and injured. DAVE Jesus fucking Christ. Dave runs towards the aid of the pilots. But is driven back by the flames, and sniper fire. The burning men make easy targets and are shot before any rescue can be attempted. His Sergeant calls from the side of another building, after observing Dave's movements. SERGEANT (shouting) Get your fucking ass down! Dave hesitates for one second too long, on where to run. His doubt costs him dearly. He is hit, driving him back onto the ground. SERGEANT (shouting) Don't move. We will get to you. A bullet rips through Dave's lower leg. Dave screams in agony. SERGEANT (shouting) Hold on son. Hold on. Dave starts to drift into unconsciousness. DAVE (V.O.) I remember not thinking or believing I had been shot. You feel detached from reality, from your own body. Then I started to drift. I really thought I was dying. The sounds and images of battle fade. FADE OUT. FLASHBACK: EXT. OPEN FIELD - DAY TITLE: MAY 24TH 1993 The setting is beautiful. A large open field, perfect green grass. The sun hanging high, in a brilliant blue sky. The only sounds are that of birds singing. The bird's songs are suddenly broken, by the sounds of youth. A large group of about a dozen boys, all of similar height and ages, lie at one end of the field. They are all carrying plastic and wooden weapons of some form. DAVE, 10 years of age. Average height, blond hair, well tanned. He is dressed in camouflaged combat dress, wearing a green plastic helmet. Lying beside him is JOHN. Two months younger, similar height. He has black hair and is wearing a stars and stripes bandanna. DAVE (V.O.) Friends. When you are young you have more than you know what to do with. How all that changes, as you get older. At the far opposite end of the field, lies a similar force of boys. DAVE (V.O.) When we were kids. The only game was War. Didn't matter which one. Vietnam, WWII. Just so long as you got to fight. But it usually meant dying, about a dozen times a day. Dave stands up and places a hand up to his mouth. DAVE (shouting) Ho Chi Min sucks dead dicks. He quickly lays back down. Taking cover from the imaginary onslaught of enemy fire. JOHN Dave, you really have to stop watching those Vietnam movies. Dave ignores his friend. DAVE Everyone ready? The group of boys, each nod in agreement. DAVE (shouting) Come on. We can take 'em. Everyone on me. Dave stands and starts to run. John immediately follows. The other boys hesitate slightly, but run after the two. DAVE (shouting) Move it, move it, move it. The second group of boys see the attack and start to advance. Dave fires his plastic machine gun. Making a sound of a gun firing, as he sprays the advancing boys with invisible bullets and spit from his mouth. DAVE Take that, you V.C. motherfucker. John smiles and joins in the attack. He takes aim with his branch of wood and shoots an attacker, with his imaginary sniper rifle. The field is a hive of activity as the play war unfolds. Boys fall, other throw imaginary grenades. Some boys are arguing about who shot who. It is all, a youthful chaotic scene. Dave is shot by one of his attackers. He falls to the ground holding his stomach. DAVE (screaming in fake pain) Medic. Help me. Medic. John is busy attacking another small group, he turns to see his friend hit the ground. DAVE (V.O.) John was always my friend. So long as I could remember. We swore when we were kids, that would never change. JOHN Dave! Johns runs to his friend. DAVE Leave me Johnnie boy. I'm done for. Belly wound. No hope. (cough) Save yourself. John smiles. JOHN Leave you here to die? Never. He takes Dave's hand and starts to drag him out of the battle. Dave squirms in fake pain, as he is dragged through the grass, away from chaos. JOHN Never leave a man behind. The two reach the safety of a ditch, several feet from the continuing battle. John collapses to the ground, breathing heavy. JOHN Christ. You could have helped. DAVE Hey. I'm wounded man. JOHN Yeah, wounded and heavy. The two share a laugh. DAVE Thanks for coming back for me. JOHN Hey. You're my brother. DAVE Much more than that. I have a brother. He would always leave me behind. John passes Dave a small bag of sweets. DAVE Thanks. For the pain? The two smile. JOHN We win? DAVE Do we ever? We were the good guys and we always seem to lose. Dave stands up and offers John a hand, pulling him to his feet. DAVE Come on. We'd better step in before this thing gets out of hand and someone really gets hurt. The two walk over to the battle. Two boys are rolling around on the ground. DAVE (V.O.) Thinking back. All that I played with, read, watched was to do with war. The toys, comics hell even clothes. It just always seemed, so cool. Like the hero thing to do. The path to becoming a man and all that shit. The rest of the boyish soldiers watch on from the sidelines. An argument of who was shot, gets out of control. DAVE (V.O.) Of course as you grow up you realize the real measure of a man, is not someone who is trained to kill. But the man who stays by his wife's side as she goes through childbirth. Hugs and holds his dying father. Spends every possible minute with his children, because one day, he knows he will give anything, to have just one of these moments in time back. The fighting couple are ripped apart, kicking and punching. FADE OUT. EXT. OUTSIDE DAVE'S HOUSE - LATER The house is a standard American suburban structure. Would be more pleasant, if better maintained. It looks out of place on a street alongside houses with better lawns and looking freshly painted. The house has all the signs of an owner that either doesn't have time, or care to take care of it. Dave walks up the lawn, towards his house. His posture changes as his walk slows. He approaches the door and opens the screen door. DAVE (V.O.) My child hood could be regarded as less than happy. Actually scrub that. It was miserable. He stops in his tracks as the door opens. Revealing something familiar and unwelcome. DAVE Fuck. Pasta again. Dave opens the door and enters the house. INT. HALLWAY OF HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER The hallway is decorated with discolored wallpaper. The walls a collection of various family photographs. The photographs show children, younger parents and happier times. Dave Approaches the open door of the living room. He pears into, slowly. Looking for something within. A look of fear on his face, afraid to of what might meet him as he returns home. DAVE (V.O.) I got very good at spotting when my mother had been drinking. The same dinner, the same music playing. Dave enters the kitchen. Dave's mother NANCE. Late forties. Average height and slightly under weight. Stands in the kitchen. She is drinking from a coffee cup. DAVE (V.O.) I could tell in an instant from her face. Her facial muscles looked different. She didn't even have to speak. No matter how many times it greeted you, you still got the sick aching feeling in the pit of your stomach. NANCE About time you got home. She throws a plate of pasta onto the wooden kitchen table. The contents look dried and over cooked. DAVE Not really hungr... She hits Dave across the back of his head, with the flat of her hand. His head rocks forward under the blow. NANCE You'll stay sitting at that fucking table, until it is all gone. Dave sits down. His head hanging just above the plate. As he pushes the food around with his fork.