Shasta

FADE IN:

EXT. MOUNTAIN FOREST - NIGHT

SUPER:
MOUNT SHASTA, CALIFORNIA, JULY 1947

A police car travels through the forest on a rough dirt road.

INT. POLICE CAR - NIGHT

A lone POLICEMAN is behind the wheel. He picks up his radio mic.

POLICEMAN:

George? Yeah, I'm in the area. Nothing to report... Whatever Fuller saw up here... I don't know. Seems quiet to me... Yeah, chalk it up to another cockamamy story.

The car pulls to the side of the road and the Policeman gets out of the car. He walks a little off the road and urinates. As he heads back to the car, he hears a low growl.

Pulling his pistol out of his holster, he looks nervously around. Suddenly wide eyed, the fires as the growling turns to a SCREECH.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

SUPER:
AREA 51, NEVADA, 1991

A large apparatus, looking like a ray gun, is mounted on a test stand. Down range is a large snake inside a cage and a truck. KNUTE LOVE, ruggedly handsome in his early 40's, inspects the apparatus, then nods to a TECHNICIAN. Knute and the Technician walk behind a concrete barrier.

BEHIND THE BARRIER

Knute, as well as a GENERAL and some other STAFF, watch a TV as the Technician sits in front of a console.

KNUTE:

Shall we begin?

GENERAL:

Just give the word, Mister Love.

KNUTE:

Let's do it, then.

The General nods to the Technician. A large bolt, like lightning, shoots out the apparatus and hits the truck. Nothing happens. The apparatus swings a little, fires, and the bolt hits the snake. It disappears. The STAFF members CHEER.

GENERAL:

Looks like a success.

Knute nods grimly.

IN THE DESERT:

Knute walks off a little ways into the desert and stares at the apparatus.

KNUTE:

(to himself)

Won't be long now, Dad.

EXT. EMBARCADERO STREET, SAN FRANCISCO - DAY

NATALIE BRAUN, a very attractive 23, walks arm in arm with her athletic boyfriend, TONY MONROE, 34, a star professional quarterback.

NATALIE:

I'm so glad the season's over.

TONY:

I don't have too many left in me. I think I've about reached the end of my bench life.

NATALIE:

Quarterbacks can go long, right?

TONY:

That's only in bed.

She snuggles up against his arm.

NATALIE:

Mmmm.... I know. Now, if it weren't for that quick release....

Tony CHUCKLES.

NATALIE (CONT’D)

Seriously, Tony. You've had too many concussions.

TONY:

No shit. But there is an up side.

NATALIE:

Like?

TONY:

Every time I look at you, I get to see two of you.

NATALIE:

Let me know if I start multiplying.

TONY:

I think you'd be the first to know that.

NATALIE:

You and me both. After all, that's something you'd have a hand in... Well, maybe not a hand...

Tony LAUGHS.

TONY:

How'd it go with the Love connection?

NATALIE:

Appointment tomorrow!

TONY:

Great! You'll make the sale.

NATALIE:

What makes you think so?

TONY:

Sold me, didn't you?

INT. KNUTE LOVE'S OFFICE - MORNING

SUPER:
SUNNYVALE, CALIFORNIA

Knute Love sits at his desk working. The door opens and his administrative assistant, MARGE, about 45, appears.

MARGE:

Mister Love? Your nine o'clock is here. Shall I send her in?

KNUTE:

Whatever you say, Marge. You're the boss!

MARGE:

Got that right!

Natalie walks in.

KNUTE:

Ah, Ms. Braun. Please, have a seat. May I offer you some coffee?

NATALIE:

Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.

KNUTE:

(to Marge)

Would you mind, Marge? She'll have it black.

Marge smiles and leaves.

NATALIE:

That's interesting. How did you know?

KNUTE:

The coffee? Call it intuition.

NATALIE:

Well, they say you're a visionary.

KNUTE:

Hmm... You might say I can see through people, if that's what you mean.

NATALIE:

The world knows you as an inventive genius, an extraordinarily canny businessman, and one of the world's richest men. But nobody really knows you, do they?

Marge walks in with the coffee.

KNUTE:

Thanks, Marge.

NATALIE:

Yes, thank you.

Marge leaves.

KNUTE:

Call it a business advantage.

NATALIE:

What I'd like to propose is an authorized biography... a portrait of one of history's most important men.

KNUTE:

Aren't those usually written after the subject is dead?

NATALIE:

I'm trying to get a jump on the competition.

Knute LAUGHS.

KNUTE:

Frankly, any more of your flattery and I might just have to cave. Tell you what. Let's do it this way. Submit a written proposal and we'll discuss it further.

NATALIE:

I have that with me.

Natalie opens her briefcase, and hands the paper to him. Knute scans it.

KNUTE:

Getting personal.

NATALIE:

That's the idea.

KNUTE:

I've spent years cultivating the image of an eccentric recluse. Why should I let the world in on my secrets now?

NATALIE:

Well, for one thing, I'll find out who your father is.

Knute stares at her.

KNUTE:

You've come well prepared. How many of these biographies have you done?

NATALIE:

Frankly, you're the first.

Knute grins, then looking serious, gets up and starts pacing.

NATALIE (CONT’D)

I assume you've already looked into it... about your father.

KNUTE:

Of course.

NATALIE:

All my sources indicate the matter is a mystery... even to you.

KNUTE:

That's rather presumptuous, isn't it?

NATALIE:

You tell me.

KNUTE:

So, if you pursue the unauthorized version of my biography, I assume you'll delve into it further.

NATALIE:

I prefer to work with you.

KNUTE:

Let me think about it, then. Would it be convenient if I had you picked up at seven tomorrow evening? We can discuss the matter further over dinner.

NATALIE:

Dinner?

KNUTE:

You want to know all about me. Perhaps I should get to know you.

NATALIE:

Of course. Thank you, Mr. Love.

KNUTE:

Don't thank me yet, Ms. Braun... May I call you Natalie?

NATALIE:

If you don't mind my calling you Knute.

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