The World is Not Enough

GUN BARREL LOGO OPENS ON

GENEVA SWITZERLAND, an unnaturally clean city that melds old

Europe with new money of both dubious and legitimate source.

INT. HALLWAY OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

An engraved brass plaque announcing the name of the ?private

banking institute? within.

INT. PENTHOUSE BANK OFFICE - GENEVA - DAY

JAMES BOND, dressed impeccably as ever, is being FRISKED by

three THUGS in Armani suits. They remove A GUN from inside

his jacket, a well-concealed knife, a metal case, laying them

on the desk that separates Bond and...

LACHAISE...an extremely well-groomed gentleman. Behind him,

three floor-to-ceiling windows lead out to a rooftop garden.

LACHAISE:

Not the usual Swiss procedure, Mr. Bond,

but you understand, a man in my

position..

BOND:

Which is neutral, no doubt.

Lachaise takes the joke a little tight-lipped. Gestures for

Bond to sit.

A GIRL ENTERS, a gorgeous Swiss bombshell in a pin-striped

suit. She pushes a cart. On it are a BRIEFCASE and a box of

EXPENSIVE CIGARS, which she offers to Lachaise and Bond.

LACHAISE:

It wasn?t easy, but I retrieved the

money. No doubt Sir Robert will be

pleased to see it again.

The efficient Cigar Girl brings the briefcase to Bond,

setting it in his lap and opening it up...inside is a good

deal of CASH in pound sterling.

LACHAISE:

In the current exchange rate, minus the

fees, of course, and certain

unforeseeable expenses. Here is the

receipt...

The CIGAR GIRL offers Bond a RECEIPT...

CIGAR GIRL:

Would you like to check my figures?

BOND:

Perhaps later.

She steps back. Bond reaches for the metal case on the

desk...the THUGS TENSE...

BOND:

My glasses.

Lachaise nods. Bond can have his glasses.

He puts them on, gives a cursory look at the receipt...an odd

number in pound sterling, calculated down to the penny:

3,030,303.03.

LACHAISE:

It?s all there.

Bond folds the receipt, slips it into his WALLET...then, he

removes the glasses, slowly, deliberately, eyeing Lachaise.

BOND:

I didn?t come for the money. The report

you sold him was stolen from an MI-6

agent, who was killed for it.

He takes a photo from his jacket and lays it on the desk.

LACHAISE:

I did not get the report from an MI-6

agent.

BOND:

Who did you get it from?

LACHAISE:

I am just a middle man. I am doing the

honourable thing and returning the money

to its rightful owner...

BOND:

And we know how difficult that can be for

the Swiss.

LACHAISE:

(controlled fury)

Your last chance. Take the money.

BOND:

Your last chance. Give me the name.

LACHAISE:

Stripped of all your weaponry, you still

threaten me?

He nods. An Armani thug steps up and takes out a gun...

BOND:

Perhaps you failed to take into account

my...hidden assets.

Bond?s mouth edges into a smile. A flicker of doubt on

Lachaise?s face -- as Bond?s finger finds a protrusion on the

tiny arm of his glasses and...

KABOOM! The pistol on the table FLASHES...blinding those

around, they cover their eyes, stagger back...it is a brief

effect, just enough to disorient the thugs and give Bond his

opening...

He KARATE-CHOPS HENCHMAN #1 unconscious, taking his gun.

Kicks HENCHMEN #2 in the face and throws #3 OUT THE WINDOW

just as they?re getting their bearings. Now he nestles the

barrel of his borrowed hand gun into the hollow of Lachaise?s

cheek.

BOND:

The name?

LACHAISE:

I can?t tell you...

(Bond c*cks the gun)

Alright, alright! But you must protect

me!

And he freezes. The handle of a THROWING KNIFE is sticking

out of his neck. Bond looks up, catches sight of the CIGAR

GIRL as she vaults out the broken window and onto THE ROOF.

Bond rushes to the window...

EXT. VERANDAH - ROOFS - GENEVA - DAY

She swings on a WIRE across to another roof, quickly

disappearing into shadows.

Bond can hear sirens approaching. He returns to...

THE OFFICE...he grabs the money and moves fast for the door,

casually slipping that cigar into his pocket...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes