STALKER

FADE IN:

EXT. SADDAM'S PALACE - NOON

IRAQ - USMC Forward Operating Base - 2011

A lone Humvee parked half in and out of the rear gate with three sentries inside keeping vigil of the alley directly across the street.

AIM

(voice over)

"The Art of War written some fifteen hundred ago by Sun Tzu stated an army equipped with men willing to do battles, tools ready for use and wisdom to win, it'll ride its enemy to total annihilation. The United States military possesses all of that and technologies light years ahead of our enemy, yet, she's tits deep in a war with no win insight. Obviously, the fucker Tzu never met God's soldiers."

INT. SENTRIES' HUMVEE - GATE - NOON

GUNNER, twenty-five, Hispanic, mans the turret .50 Cal machine gun pointing down the empty alley. His goggles and face caked with fine layer of sand. The only enemy insight is the sweltering sun he's been braving for several hours. He pours water on the goggles, flushing the layer of sand, wolfs down the rest and in his haste, drops the bottle inside the humvee. It rolls to a stop behind driver's seat.

GUNNER

"Eh, yo, New Guy, hand me that empty bottle I just dropped, man."

NEW GUY, twenty-two, Colorado white, sits apprehensive behind the wheel, whiteknuckling his decked out M4. He's so fixated on the invisible feines that might lurk in nooks of the alley Gunner's voice doesn't even register. Next to him is SARGE, white, 26, vigilant but relaxed, a combat vet who's seen and done the worst for mankind.

GUNNER

(still in the turret)

"I'm sorry, did I not say pretty please?"

(mumbles)

"Just tell me, man, who I gotta fuck around here to get shit done."

Sarge steals a glance at New Guy.

SARGE

"Relax, big man, you're in good company."

Sarge taps the weary soldier on the helmet to reassure New Guy of his presence. New Guy puts on weak smile.

NEW GUY

"Yeah. Sorry. You know the heat is killing me. And the smell!"

(shaking his head)

"The fear. How they do it, the locals. Guess if we can make it here then America is cake."

New Guy looks away, oblivious to the poetry of it.

SARGE

"Sweet and fat."

Gunner ducks down from the hatch, annoyed.

GUNNER

You two about done fucking each other's ear because I really shouldn't hold in my pee.

Sarge and Gunner busted out laughing.

SARGE

"Take it outside!"

Gunner grabs the empty bottle he dropped, unzips his pants.

SARGE

"I mean it. The smell lingers in this heat."

GUNNER

"You know my mom's gonna freak if she sees me sprawled on the cover of some paper under the caption, Marine shot dead in Iraq with his wee-wee hanging out. That's some cold shit for a mother to wake up to."

SARGE

"Don't fuck around, dude. Go piss outside, I got the fifty."

Gunner ignores him, he gets up in the turret, starts urinating into the bottle, still complaining...

GUNNER

"You want me out there in case some Juba wants to hone his craft? That's some cold, premeditated racist shit, man."

Sarge turns to look at Gunner.

SARGE

"Ladies and gentlemen of the juror, may I call your attention to the evidence, clearly, the man is packing for girlscouts."

New Guy chuckles, turns to see the fuss, looks at Sarge, both laughing at Gunner's expense.

SARGE

(serious)

"One spillage and you go back to patrol, nacho."

Gunner suddenly drops the bottle, spilling urine all over the place but before anyone could protest--

gunner

"Vehicle at twelve!"

Sarge and New Guy spin to look out the windshield. Sarge plugs his M4, thumbs off the safty.

SARGE

"Gunner, that fucker doesn't make it pass fifty yard you hear me!?"

(to New Guy)

"Get out and take position behind the door!"

Sarge and New Guy open the doors, spring out New guy levels his weapon at the vehicle. Sarge grabs the bullhorn from the dash, springs out.

INT. LUXURY SEDAN - ALLEY - NOON

Driver, a benign elderly man, stops the car in the middle of the alley. out the windshield, the Americans are some sixty yards straight ahead. It's hard to feel save with that kind of fire power training on him even at this distance. He looks at his wife in the passenger seat, grabs her hand, squeeaes hard as if it's the last thing they'll partake. He takes his shirt off, opens the door, gets out, goes around to the front of the sedan, hands in the air.

EXT. GATE

Sarge taking cover behind the passenger door, begins to bark into the bullhorn, slowly annunciating each word.

SARGE

"Get back in your car! This is a restricted area. Do not advance on us or we'll be forced to use deadly force. Get back in your car or we will shoot you!"

New Guy starts motioning with his hand for them to back out. Sarge turns to New Guy.

SARGE

"Cut that shit out. They might mistake it for an invitation. And get that scope on the vehicle."

New Guy stops with the hand, bring the scope up to his right eye. Through the scope, the elderly man does a slow three-sixty spin for him.

NEW GUY

"Male outside doesn't look armed."

He walks the crosshair over to the sedan, the wife just sitting there. In the back seat, a BOY, no more than ten scoots into view, cradling something. New Guy quickly puts the cross hair on him. He's cradling a bloody towel wrapped around an infant.

NEW GUY

"Oh, shit! They've got an injured baby!"

Sarge tosses the bullhorn on the seat, scopes the car with his rifle...

SARGE

"Fuck me!"

New Guy wants to help, looks over at Sarge who's deeply irritated, he yanks the bullhorn from the seat, speaks into it.

SARGE

"Sir, we're only equipped to treat minor injuries. The hospital is only ten kilo due east."

The elderly man just stands there, hands juts in the air.

NEW GUY

"I don't think he understands English."

Sarge mulls it over, cursing his luck.

SARGE

"Can't"

(into bullhorn)

"Sir, turn around and take the second left, the hospital is on your left. We cannot help you."

New Guy can't believe what he's hearing.

NEW GUY

"I thought we're here to help these people."

GUNNER

"Like it's up to us what we do here?"

SARGE

"Fuck me!"

NEW GUY

"C'mon, Sarge, that baby's gonna bleed to death in this traffic."

SARGE

"Shut the fuck up and get that weapon on them!"

Sarge raises the bullhorn again just as a distance rifle shot cracks the air. Half a second later, the elderly man's chest explode crimson red. He drops, faceplanting the ground hard.

SARGE

"Juba! Get your ass down!"

Sarge ducks behind the door. He looks across to New Guy--he's gone. WTF? Sarge springs back up and just as his head clears the top of the door--another distance cracks and...TWAP! The round slams into his right cheek, blowing out his left jaw. He topples, can't scream, blood gushing from the wound. Gunner swings the .50 cal all over the place, doesn't notice his Sergeant's been hit. Doesn't even see New Guy mad-legging it for the sedan -- tunnel vision. Gunner desperately searches for the sniper. He would die trying. Another crack whips the air--half a second is all his life is worth. TWAP! Blood arcing out the hole in his forhead, brain explodes out the back of his skull. He topples, slides down the hatch, sprawls atop piles of ammo belts. Blood blooms out the back of his head. His arms and legs jut out. It's weird when the body doesn't know you died.

EXT. ALLEY - LUXURY SEDAN - NOON

New Guy arrives at the sedan, adrenalin pumping, hurls himself in the driver seat, jams his M4 on the dashbord and guns the pedal. The engine just rev....SHIT! Another distance crack blows out the driver door mirror. New Guy throws the shifter in drive, floors it. The Door slams shut as the sedan rockets towards his parked Humvee.ANother distance shot and the tail light explodes.

INT. ALLEY - MOVING LUXURY SEDAN

The end of the alley coming up fast, everything is but a blur. New Guy glimpses the empty turrent, Sarge's legs kicking on pool of blood behind the passenger door, but it doesn't register, he's on a mission.He takes the corners at full speed, turning left, the sedan fishtails, narrowly missing the curb before tracking straight into the path of--

THREE ON COMING HUMVEES. Everyone stomps on the brakes. Wheels locking. Tires squealing. This is gonna hurt!

INT. MOVING LEAD HUMVEE

The marine instinctively veers left to avoid impact only to find the sentries' Humvee in the path--

EXT. GATE

Sarge is a bloody mess, manages to push himself back into the passenger seat but struggles to get both legs inside when he glimpses the lead Humvee coming at him. If there was any hope for him prior there isn't one now. He know's it's over. WHAM! He is crushed with a sickening sound.

The sudden stop jerks turret gunner in lead Humvee forward with breakneck speed. His mouth slams into the rear of the .50 cal spraying blood, teeth. The occupant inside fair no better.

EXT. STREET

Second Humvee fishtailing wildly to a stop only to be rear ended by the third Humvee. The luxury sedan, somehow, screeches to a stop unscathed between the pile ups.

INT. SECOND HUMVEE

The marines collect themselves, check themselves, minor bruises all around. MARINE in the passenger seat looks up at the sedan that causes all this, they're bumper to bumper with the sedan parked at an angle where the rear end is in full view for him. Something's not quite right. The sedan rear end hangs suspiciously low -- it takes few seconds to register. SHIT!

MARINE

"SUICIDE BOMBERS!"

And that's all it takes. His driver slams the beast in reverse, floors the gas.

INT. LUXURY SEDAN

New Guy watches the two Humvee haul ass backward as fast as the massive diesel engines allow. He turns to the elderly female passenger whose eyes gleam hatred. In her hand a crude grip-like device with wires coming out the bottom. It was in plain sight the whole time but he had missed it in his haste to save them. He reaches for his sidearm, pure instinct.

BLAM! A round grazes the side of New Guy's head, blowing hole in the windshield. He gropes at the wound, turns to look in the back seat just as the Boy presses the maw of his rusty revolver right between the brows. The wrapped infant in his arm had died at least several days ago. Then the Boy shouts with terrifying vengence.

BOY

"Allah akbar! Allah akbar!"

An explosion and New Guys blood, brain, skull fracment splatter the winshield. The Boy continues to scream to his God. The elderly woman presses the button and the sedan explodes with god's wrath.

EXT. STREET BURNING HUMVEE

A lone survivor crawls out of the burning wreck, climbs to her feet, charred and shedding smoke. Her uniform shredded, left boot's on fire, right one done melting into her skin. She staggers through the carnage gripping a nine in her hand.

AIM

(voice over)

"And that's when the mighty USMC came for us. Struck a deal with their mortal enemy. A quid-pro-quo for only we dare walk through the valley of death to kick the bitch's teeth in return for uninterrupted supply of that warm, dank coppery blood."

Several Humvees comes on to the scene, disgorging marines. They quickly spread out to form security perimeter. A marine with two small fire extinguishers starts spraying the burning wreck. A medic rushes over to tend the lone survivor, he grabs her arm, startled, she spins, shoots him in the eye - the medic doubles over before falling on his back. The others can only watch in horror.

AIM

(voice over)

"But then out of nowhere this thing came and hunted us with cold efficient blood lust. And for the first time in centuries I was scared. We all were."

SCENE 2

INT. BLACK HAWK HELICOPTER - NIGHT

Somewhere in Afghanistan - 2012

Through the claustrophobic grainy green circle of PILOT'S NVG, STRAYDOG, early thirties, jockeying the long winding stretch of the Afghan valley at a comfortable height above the terrain. A small village zips by below revealing they're hauling at good speed. His flight leader, LEAD DOG'S voice crackles over radio.

LEAD DOG

(over radio)

"How bored are you?"

STRAY DOG

"Stiff as hard on. What's on your mind?"

LEAD DOG

(over radio)

"Cowboy alley coming up about ten miles. What say we give the bad guys a wake up call?"

STRAY DOG

"How about I drop back, give us about a minute of separation and make it two wake up calls?"

LEAD DOG

(over radio)

"Boy, that is just rude! Let's dumb some alt and ride their rooftops."

STRAY DOG

"Roger that. Surf's up!"

EXT. TWO BLACK HAWK HELICOPTERS - NIGHT

The sleek black helicopters slice through the darkness in tight formation. Lead Dog's helicopter starts a rapid descend while Stray Dog sticks his lead like glue and level out at less than hundred feet above terrain. Lead Dog engines roar as he starts to pull away.

INT. LEAD DOG'S HELICOPTER - NIGHT

Green dials beam on the faces of two men with NVG on. The older pilot in the left seat is LEAD DOG. Through the grainy green glow, Lead Dog spots a village to his left. The mud houses dotting the side of the mountain. some two hundred yards ahead. It's flanked by mountain ranges featuring eerie rock formations. 

LEAD DOG

"I'm going to dump some more angel and get down with the resident evil."

Lead Dog works the cyclic and collective, bringing the bird down as low as he dares. He give it a yee-haw as the village whips by underneath him.

INT. STRAY DOG'S HELICOPTER - NIGHT

Through the green wash of NVG, Stray Dog spots a lone mud house hanging precariously on the mountain side above the rest. He climbs, aims for it, turns to his co-pilot who took his NVG off the helmet and is holding it in front of a camera.

STRAY DOG

"All right, here we go."

Stray Dog waits until they're just about to zips by the lone mud house then..

STRAY DOG

"Say cheese, motherfuckers!!!"

WHAM! The helicopter keels over to the right hard sending the co-pilot's camera and NVG flying. Co-pilot spins to see where they went.

STRAY DOG

"Shit. Check the instrument!"

The co-pilot turns his attention to the panel, scans the array of gauges. Stray Dog wrestles the controls...

STRAY DOG

"I've got her. I've got her. Lead, we just took a hit."

His voice a few octaves higher. Lead Dog's voice instantly crackles over the radio.

LEAD DOG

"Copy that. How bad?"

The Black Hawk begins to right itself, Stray Dog looks at his co-pilot who gives him a thumb up.

STRAY DOG

"I think we're good."

He notices his quivering voice, pauses, unnerved himself.

STRAY DOG

"Uh, I've got to angel up. Meet me at angel five, gonna need you to assess the exterior damage."

LEAD DOG

(over radio)

"Roger that. What was it, small-arms fire?"

STRAY DOG

"Negative, it's definitely not that."

LEAD DOG

(over radio)

"Probably a bird."

STRAY DOG

"Big god damned bird if that. I swear it felt like someone chucked a sofa at us."

EXT. STRAY DOG'S HELICOPTER - NIGHT

Profiled against the dull moonlight, a massive bulge can be seen on the skin just behind the left rear door. It appears they took damage. The helicopter starts to ascent. The moon slips behind a massive cloud and the bulge suddenly move...

INT. LEAD DOG'S HELICOPTER - NIGHT

They're pretty high up, straight and level at five thousand feet or so. Lead Dog cranes to look out his side window.

LEAD DOG

"Stray Dog, I have you behind to our left. Yeah, looks to me you're heading straight for us, bud. Uh, you copy?"

Lead Dog turns to his co-pilot who's flying the helicopter.

LEAD DOG

"Their radio must be shot. Give us some lateral separation, I'll tell you when to stop."

The co-pilot nudges the cyclic, the helicopter banks and darts right. Lead Dog looks back out his side window, acting as an eye for him.

LEAD DOG

"Stop, stop, stop."

(adjusts the mic boom)

"Stray Dog you copy? Paul, you copy?"

Stray Dog's helicopter creeps into view. They're neck to neck. Lead Dog leans until his NVG dings the glass pane. 

LEAD DOG

"What the? Oh, my god."

His face wrecked from terror. He grabs the cyclic, yanks it full right--too late. The helicopter shudders, something slams into them so hard the right rear door buckled inward. Lead Dog slams the cyclic full forward, the helicopter dives at crazy angle.

co-pilot

"Jesus Christ. What the hell are you doing?"

LEAD DOG

"I'm trying to get it off! Get your gun out!"

CO-PILOT

"Get what off? What's out there!?"

TCHUNNNG! A hole is punched through the left rear door. Then another and another. Whatever out there it ain't stopping. The helicopter continues to dive. The wind howling outside. The rotor blades whine, stressed to the max. The pounding at the door. This is not happening. The co-pilot starts to whimper.

LEAD DOG

"Shoot it! Shoot the goddamn DOOR!"

Lead Dog pulls out of the dive with several feet to spare. The pounding hasn't led up.

LEAD DOG

"Take the stick."

The co-pilot has lost it, he unbuckles the belt, tries to puSh the door open but can't. Suddenly, the right rear door snaps open with thunderous bang, the wind carries it into the night. The wind whips violently around the cabin. Lead Dog NVG flickers then quits, pitch black. He taps it a few times then flips it up. Pitch black. He unbuckles the belt, grabs his nine, turns, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness...a massive silhouette, inhuman, collapses on the rear cabin floor, its back hideously arches, goes into convulsion. 

The co-pilot just stares out the windshield, paralyzed with freight, his untimely death playing in his mind. Lead Dog's transfixed at the trashing silhouette inside the cabin. No one's flying the helicopter. Either way they're doom.

LEAD DOG

"What the fuck...?"

The silhouette appears to be going through some kind of alteration. Shrinking in size, becoming more -- human. The trashing subsides. It yawns, slowly pushes itself to its knee, looks around, confused...its eyes come around to him. It studies Lead Dog then something clicks. Now it remembers and smiles. Lead Dog, too, remembers what he was going to do. He levels the nine at it. His eyes adjusted to the night.

LEAD DOG

"Paul? No. No. It can't be you."

Something drops from its hand, hits the floor with a thunk. Lead Dog fires just as a scintillating white light erupts, fulling the cockpit, the entire night.

SCENE 3

INT. USMC COMMUNICATIONS OUTPOST - NIGHT

Dark, small and freezing. Next to the door below the one window, a long bench with several laptop and several communication equipment. Broken radio equipment piled on top of eachother on the floor in one corner. A bunk bed against the far wall with several portable scattered on the floor. Next to it, a marine in full winter parka kneels on the floor behind a tipped over metal locker, M-16 levels at the door with piles of thirty-round mags next to it. His breath clouds in the frigid air. This is the DISPATCHER.

Sound of generator sputtering outside startles him. He closes his eyes, silently praying to every Gods there is. The generator keeps sputtering then comes to life. After a moment the lights flicker on, the heater spins to life and the marine lets out a sigh of relief. The door bursts open, a flurry of snow and wind rushing in. Standing outside in military parka holding a giant flashlight in one hand, a hammer in the other is MECHANIC. He looks pissed. 

DISPATCHER

"Thanks for getting out of bed on my account."

(walks to the door)

"I tried to get the stupid thing going for half an hour. You know, I tried. For what it's worth, I just got here a week ago and haven't seen anyone since. Yeah, good seeing you."

He holds out his hand. Mechannic ignore him, eyes wanders the room, stops at the bunk bed. On the top and bottom bunk, an array of religious paraphenalias are neatly arranged. A sleeping bag rolled out under the bottom bunk. It's obvious where Dispatcher sleeps.

DISPATCHER

(embarrassed)

"You know. You know? Hey, you want some fresh coffee?"

Mechanic's eyes dart to the string of garlic bulbs around Dispatcher's neck. Dispatcher lets out a nervous chuckle.

DISPATCHER

"The guys that was here. Jim was it? They told me it was severe frostbite, but you know...um...you know what happened to him? To Jim?"

Mechanic looks suggestively down at the rusty colored blotch where Dispatcher's standing. Finally, he speaks.

MECHANIC

"Jim had a necklace just like yours."

Mechanic slams the door shut. Dispatcher leaps off the stain, locks the door, wishing he had stayed in school. He walks over to the desk, plops down on the chair, turns on both laptops, the radio equipment. He sighs, migraine kicking in...  

TO BE CONTINUED