1 OVER BLACK:
“He said he will leap into his grave laughing, because thefeeling of having six million Jews’ deaths on his consciencegave him extraordinary satisfaction.”
- Dieter Wisliceny, quoting Adolf Eichmann, 1948
Wind. The GROWLS of an approaching THUNDERSTORM as we PRELAP
2 EXT. GARIBALDI STREET. BUENOS AIRES. NIGHT
The year is 1960, and we are in the San Fernando barrio, onthe outskirts of Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Rain slaps the asphalt road. Small bungalows, illuminated bykerosene lamps, cast shadows across large yards. We glimpsefamilies relaxing, dining, celebrating together...
3 INT. BUICK. NIGHT
THREE MOSSAD AGENTS sit in silence, staring forward as rainpounds their ‘53 black sedan. They watch a KIOSK and BUS-STOPnearby. Their hood is open, as if they’ve broken down.
Behind the wheel sits RAFI. Normally so warm and calm, nowthis short man’s eyes bulge behind thick specs and his handjitters. UZI, the dripping-wet beast of a man by his side,
clenches his fists against the cold.
In the back sits PETER MALKIN. Handsome, in a gaunt kind ofway. A caged animal. In the eyes, grim determination.
Like clockwork, you said.
I know what I said, habibi.
Well, my watch isn’t broken.
We can’t turn back. Not now.
They both turn. Malkin doesn’t look at either of them.
Climbs out of the car. Both Rafi and Uzi turn to see-
a GREEN/YELLOW BUS (No.203) wheezing towards the kiosk.
4 EXT. GARIBALDI STREET. NIGHT
Striding forward, Malkin dons a pair of fur-lined leathergloves. Breathes, steadying himself. Looks up as-
WHOOSH. The bus DRIVES STRAIGHT PAST THE KIOSK.
No. No, no!
Behind him, leaning out of the car window, Uzi hisses-
Where is he? What do we do?!
Off the look of TOTAL PANIC IN MALKIN’S FACE AS WE CUT TO
The SCRATCHING of a fingernail grows louder and louder
6 INT. DINING ROOM. VILLA MINOUX. DAY (JANUARY, 1942)
A brown stain, on a slate-grey collar. Try as it might, theclipped, tobacco-stained thumbnail is failing to shift it.
Over the sound of the scratching, a general MURMUR builds to-
Looking up from his collar, ADOLF EICHMANN finds himself at a
plush dining-table surrounded by 14 HIGH-RANKING NAZIS. Thisis the Wannsee conference. During the next hours these men
will seal the fate of approximately six million human beings.
Attractive in his way, Eichmann appears languid and calm. Notin the eyes, though. They betray a man constantly evaluating.
Always searching for weakness, for opportunity.
He clears his throat. His right hand twitches briefly. Stops.
Gentlemen. I begin by stressing our
enemy threatens not only our war and
our country but also our families.
My eldest is six. My second only two
and a third is on the way. I am sure
I speak for everybody gathered here
when I say we will give our lives
and souls today to guarantee the
safety of Germany’s children.
There’s a small RUMBLING of approval from the collected men.
Eichmann smiles thinly. The sense he was hoping for more.
But how? We tried reasoning with
the enemy. We’ve tried deportation.
But no, no, the foolish Jew has
stayed put. So. We adapt. Before I
continue, a glass to Herr Heydrich,
ngarth and our men in
the Einsatzgruppen for their work
in the Ukraine dealing with the
Slav and the Eastern Jew.
Eichmann lifts a glass of wine. Those at the table raiseglasses. Several KNOCK ON THE TABLE in support. Heydrich,
Lange and Sch�
ngarth nod in appreciation.