Whittlesley's fists clench spasmodically. Franco looks to his men.
No! I'm not crazy! As God is my
witness, I'm telling the truth.
Franco barks an order and several sailors grab Whittlesley by the
arms. They start to lead him back to shore.
Don't do this! You have to believe
me. Your lives are in danger.
The sailors laugh. But with an almost super-human strength born of
desperation, Whittlesley throws them off. He pulls out his wallet.
Cash. Cash, you see? American money.
Whittlesley throws the money down on the deck. The breeze scatters the
bills across the bow and all the men, including Captain Franco,
scramble for the money, chattering in Portuguese. While they are
occupied, Whittlesley slips by unnoticed and disappears below deck.
INT. HOLD - SANTA LUCIA - NIGHT
Whittlesley ducks between cages of goats, boxes of farm equipment, his
movements jerky with panic. As he continues searching, the camera
moves past him, into the darkness of the hold. We hear Whittlesley
mumbling between low, ragged breaths. At the back of the boat the
A STACK OF CRATES... clearly labeled NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM. Move in on
these as... The CRATES VIBRATE. The boat has started to move!
Whittlesley stands bolt upright, realizing what's going on.
Too late. He turns to run back on deck but then stops, sniffs the air.
A look of desperation fills his eyes. With one hand he pulls out THE
KNIFE, and unexpectedly puts it to HIS OWN NECK. Better to kill
himself than face what comes next. The knife touches...