BELOW Darren Aronofsky & Lucas Sussman Revisions by David Twohy BLUE REVISED November 6, 2000 EXT. OCEAN - DAY We're flying under the wing of a submarine attack plane, circa 1940. Below us lies an infinite ocean. CREDITS PLAY over this unrelenting waterscape until we spy... A sequin of light. INT. ATTACK PLANE - DAY The PROP ROAR is deafening. A Navy LOOK-OUT mimes to his PILOT, "Go down, go down." EXT. OCEAN - DAY Circling, we descend on the water. Soon "whitecaps" resolve into scattered wreckage. One scrap winks at us again. It's a small boat. EXT. LIFEBOAT - OCEAN - DAY An empty tin is being rocked back and forth, its bottom catching sunlight. We're so CLOSE that we can't see who does the signaling. INT. ATTACK PLANE - DAY The look-out pencils "HELP IS COMING." The note goes inside a coffee thermos. The thermos goes out the window. EXT. ATTACK PLANE - DAY As the attack plane peels away. INT. MANTA - DECRYPTING MONTAGE CONTINUE CREDITS. A radio message is being decrypted. We see CLOSEUPS of cipher wheels being turned on E.C.M. gear...new letters appearing...each letter dutifully retyped on a jagged typewriter. A double "X" ends the message. EXT. MANTA BRIDGE - PRE-DAWN SURVIVORS SPOTTED X LONG 13 31W LAT 46 7N X LEND ALL POSSIBLE ASSISTANCE XX Finished reading, Lt. RICHARD BRICE passes the message on to Lt. PAUL LOOMIS. If this were today, we might intro these two 30- year-olds playing beach volleyball or working the Nasdaq exchange. But it's not today, it's 60 years ago, so instead we find them conning 310 feet of Balao-class submarine (the V.S.S. Manta), riding surface across an inky ocean, just trying to get home to Connecticut. LOOMIS Almost a day behind us. No outward reaction from Brice. LOOMIS Well, who are they? Americans? Brits? 'Talians? Doesn't even say. BRICE I think we can assume they're friendly, Mr. Loomis. (off his look) Besides, it doesn't appear to be a suggestion, does it? LOOMIS (warming to the inevitable) Hell, why not? Might get a silver star out of this patrol yet. BRICE Have Coors plot it out. Loomis grinds out a smoke and starts below. Brice lifts binoculars to scan the horizon ahead. EXT. MANTA BRIDGE - DAY BINOX POV: Abruptly it's daytime. In our sights now is a red- sailed boat, adrift. We're still too far away to see faces, but arms are waving madly at us. BRICE (O.S.) Not very many.... A rescue detail is assembling on the foredeck of the sub. Two BLUESHIRTS man the look-out posts up in the periscope sheers. Joining Brice topside is Ensign DOUGLAS ODELL, 23, Brigham Young, smart but green. ODELL (reminding) Gunner's mates standing by below, sir. BRICE Stow the weapons. They're British. ODELL You can tell that? From here? BRICE The sail -- Krauts use white on their lifeboats, Brits red. Don't they teach that in O.C.S., ensign? ODELL 'Fraid not, sir. Though I can recite the submariner's motto in Latin. Brice gives him a look. "Handy." INT. CONTROL ROOM RADAR MAN Mr. Coors? Lt. STEVEN COORS, 26, leans over the RADAR MAN'S shoulder to check... The cathode screen. A blip is materializing. EXT. MANTA BRIDGE - DAY COORS (O.S./INTERCOM) Radar contact, sir, starboard beam, 11 miles out.... As one, all binoculars whip starboard. BINOX POV: We can't spot the warship that's out there yet -- the horizon is hazed in -- but we do see a plume of black smoke above the haze. Ominous. ODELL Think they see us? BRICE [They're] pourin' on the coal for somebody. He does the mental math: The warship's likely approach-speed on the Manta...the Manta's approach-speed on the lifeboat...the time needed by the rescue party.... BRICE (into intercom) All ahead emergency. Rudder amidships. Crew to battle stations. (shouting to foredeck) Awright, let's do this at flank speed! You grab what's breathing on that boat and leave anything else behind! Got it? (down the hatch) Stand by to board passengers! BINOX POV: Of the warship's smoke. Growing denser. INT. CONNING TOWER - DAY The first of three survivors appears: SCHILLINGS is lowered through the bridge hatch via an improvised rope-sling. He's burned, slick with oil, unconscious. Moving fast, Loomis and a few blue shirts guide him down. LOOMIS Well done, well done. Just lay him aside and keep 'em comin', keep 'em comin'.... Next appears KINGSLEY, 40, wearing the tatters of a British merchant marine uniform. One leg is splintered with a broken oar. KINGSLEY Easy on the leg, lads...already in enough pieces.... LOOMIS Talk later, move now. Next ladder, next ladder.... Kingsley is helped below. Reaching for the third survivor, the men suddenly find themselves in the company of... CLAIRE PAIGE, 30. She's lovely in a salt-caked, sun-beaten, water-starved sort of way. LOOMIS Well done. INT. MANTA - SERIES OF ROOMS CAMERA FOLLOWS a series of men as the message is passed through the boat in bucket-brigade fashion: SERIES OF MEN "Three survivors...Brits...one's a woman." Pass it on. The message travels back, past the radio shack... ...through the galley and mess room... ...through the crew quarters... ...through the engine room... ...through the maneuvering room... INT. AFT TORPEDO ROOM ...and finally dead-ends here. HOAG "Three tea bags." And get this -- one's a bleeder. STUMBO Aw, Sweet Baby Jesus.... PAPPY Well, if it means you guys finally wash the butt-squirt outta your shorts, I'm all for it. PAPPY is the ancient mariner of the boat -- he's 43. STUMBO and HOAG are torpedo mates and world-class misogynists. We've seen most of the blue shirts now, and they're a cranky, pasty-faced, unshaven lot on the 50th day of patrol. STUMBO That's all this boat needs -- one more piece of rotten luck. INT. CONNING TOWER Dropping inside from the bridge above: BRICE Let's pull the plug. LOOMIS Clear the bridge, rig for dive. He jerks the alarm box: AHOOGA-AHOOGA. BRICE Periscope depth. LOOMIS Cycle the vents, blow negative, take us down to 65 feet. INT. MANTA - DIVING MONTAGE In FAST SHOTS we see: The bridge hatch is slammed shut and dogged down. In the control room, the "Christmas tree" board switches to solid green. All hatches are now air-tight. CHIEF Pressure in the boat. Ballast controls are thrown. Maneuvering room: Telegraphs ratchet up "STANDARD SPEED" and "FULL DIVE." Pappy and his men yank levers in response. Control room: PLANESMAN #1 swings a handle and... EXT. MANTA - DAY The bow planes deploy, catching water. EXT. MANTA - ABOVE AND BELOW WATER - DAY We dive. The ocean rushes over us and swallows us whole. Moments later we're burrowing through a world of perpetual twilight. And no matter how long we're down here, we'll never really get used to it. INT. CONTROL ROOM (NOTE: There are no DAY/NIGHT designations for our interiors as they have no meaning aboard a submarine. Besides, every scene should feel like night -- with pooling lights, noir shadows, corpselike bodies sleeping in bunks.) SONAR #1 (O.S.) Contact bearing 1-5-0.... CONNING TOWER VOICES filter down on the three survivors, sprawled on the control room floor. A STEWARD offers sips of water. Odell checks the unconscious Schillings. CLAIRE He's in and out. I didn't try to dress the wounds until they'd been cleaned. Have any sulphating agents? ODELL (rummaging through medical pouch) Morphine...penicillin...ether...this looks like, uh.... CLAIRE You're aren't the doctor, are you? ODELL Pharmacist Mate is best you get on a submarine... Claire nods. "I understand." ODELL ...but he missed the boat. I'm Odell, supply officer. They gave me the job 'cuz I have keys to this stuff. Here.... He helps get her life jacket off. Stenciling reads "Fort James." ODELL What happened to your ship? From the tower above: BRICE We'll debrief later, Mr. Odell. Just find them quarters. INT. CONNING TOWER PERISCOPE POV: A water-lapping view of a German warship. It's out of the haze now. And angling our way. BRICE (O.S.) Two-stacker. 'Bout 9,000 tons. Possible Rhine class. Brice watches on the attack periscope. Loomis flips through a ship-identification manual, finds a match. LOOMIS If it is...rear racks, no side throwers, twin six-inch guns, grapplehooks...good to 200 feet. SONAR #1 looks over his shoulder at Brice, wondering how long he's going to think things over. SONAR #1 Fast screws, Mr. Brice. 30 knots or better. BRICE (deciding) 250 feet, right full rudder. For whatever reason, Brice is ducking the fight -- and most here seem fine with that. Loomis resets the alarm-box. LOOMIS Secure from battle stations. INT. STATEROOM Bone-tired, Kingsley drops into one bunk while... INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM/FORWARD CORRIDOR Odell and the steward ease Schillings into another. Odell rejoins Claire in the corridor. She's taking stock of the forward section, everything disturbingly tight here. ODELL So this "Fort James".... CLAIRE Hospital ship. We were attacked two nights ago. Two nights? Sorry, brain's a bit foggy -- though I'm reasonably sure I'm Claire Paige. Should be able to fill in the details as soon as -- A MOURNFUL WAIL interrupts her. It seems to come from outside the hull. ODELL Just a whale. CLAIRE How far down are we? ODELL 200 feet or so, on our way to 250. (off her ashen look) Still gets to me, too -- the sounds down here. CLAIRE No, no, it's just that...I have a small problem with...confined areas. Lugging shoring beams, Stumbo and Hoag appear. STUMBO Comin' through...watch your toes...make way for the workin' men.... Claire shies back as they plow through, aware of their disapproving looks. The steward steps back into the corridor. STEWARD (re Schillings) Doesn't look good. ODELL See if you can't cut those clothes off. Get a better look at his wounds. CLAIRE I can change the dressings. Other than that, I think it's best to just let him be. ODELL Officers' shower just forward. We try to hold it down to 30 seconds, but [in your case].... CLAIRE Do we know if there were others? Anyone else rescued? ODELL Not that I heard of, ma'am. Sorry. It weighs on her. CLAIRE Thank you. Thank you ever so much. INT. CONTROL ROOM COORS ...but with these currents, let's consider this heading plus-or-minus one degree until our next star-fix. At the chart table, Brice and Loomis review Coors' calcs. BRICE Well done. If we make 15 knots by night, we can be back in the barn in 96 hours. LOOMIS [So we're] taking the Brits back too? BRICE Mr. Coors, you have the conn. (to Loomis) Let's get their story. INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM Brice and Loomis are debriefing Kingsley, who sits on the table having his leg re-splinted by Odell as... KINGSLEY Sorry, maybe I didn't make myself clear. I saw it. Crossed the moon's reflection just before the explosion. Wasn't a mine -- it was a U-boat. Brice and Loomis swap looks. "A U-boat. Wonderful." LOOMIS What class? Type 7? Older boat? Loomis produces an "AXIS IDENTIFICATION MANUAL," plops it down in Kingsley's lap and starts flipping pages, showing him silhouettes of various German submarines. LOOMIS Or one of their newer ones? Clean at the bow? No net-cutter? KINGSLEY It was just a second or two. Sorry, know it would be helpful, but.... BRICE So you were on look-out that night, Mister.... KINGSLEY Kingsley, sub-lieutenant, merchant marine. Hello. Grabbing a gasper, actually, starboard deck. A "smoke." BRICE And how many aboard your ship? CLAIRE (O.S.) 300 patients. Claire appears, newly showered. The men can't help notice how well she cleans up. CLAIRE At least that many. Out of North Africa. KINGSLEY And probably 70 hands in the crew, so.... Brice nods grimly. "400 lives." We hear more WHALE CRIES, forlorn and disturbing. ODELL (to Kingsley) You said they fired one torpedo? BRICE Odell, better tell sonar we've got an enemy sub in the area. ODELL (trying to finish splint) Just give me one.... BRICE Do it now. Odell leaves. Claire takes his place -- and proceeds to rework the splint. BRICE I'm just sorry we couldn't save more. And the third in your party? He's.... CLAIRE One of the patients. Though I couldn't tell you his name just now. Kingsley flinches. Did Claire hurt him? Or did he flinch at her answer? BRICE So under normal conditions, I'd drop you at the nearest port in England, but that's a 300-mile detour for us, and we're over- extended as it is. Sorry, but seems we're stuck with each other. CLAIRE Can we get a radio message off? Let people know we're still -- BRICE We only radio when we're on the surface, Miss Paige, and we only surface at night -- if we can help it. (starting to leave) Oh, and last thing. Try not to fraternize. Most men are fine, but some get a little strange about [women aboard].... CLAIRE "Strange" as in "superstitious"? BRICE As in "strange." INT. MANEUVERING ROOM WEIRD WALLY "...his boots went thwuck, thwuck, thwuck through the boggy shallows. Sweat and oil and grime clung to his Adonis brow. Suddenly his heart rolled over backwards in his chest as he saw the huge wretched thing before him..." WEIRD WALLY, the boat's yeoman, reads from a pulp magazine. He's 25 with a voracious imagination. Listening in are Stumbo and Pappy. Pappy's feeding Crackerjack to his pet fish, kept in a bowl suspended from the rafters. ZAP enters and takes his post. He's Pappy's right-hand guy. ZAP Weird Wally, at it again. WEIRD WALLY "Instantly its mouth widened into a terrible and hungry menace. Now the malediction uttered a deep-throated sound...." PAPPY "Malediction?" WEIRD WALLY Look it up. "...and its breath stank gloriously of rotted carp and matted gorilla skins and bilge-water. Now it slouched toward him...not fast, but slowly, slowly, so very slowly...." CRACKING METAL jars them -- but it's only a bulkhead settling under pressure. Gauges show the sub trimming lower. STUMBO Whazzis story called again? Weird Wally flips to the cover of the "Incredibly Weird Tales" pulp. A banner reads "Strange! Mysterious! Satanic!" WEIRD WALLY "The She-Witch of Blood Lake...." STUMBO Another female.... PAPPY I don't wanna hear this shit no more. WEIRD WALLY This is classic fiction here. PAPPY Hey, "Farewell to Arms" is classic fiction. "Incredibly Weird Tales?" Chicken-fried ass-wipe. Now get outta here, alla you. This is the maneuvering room, and I can't maneuver with all you bull-slingers cloggin' up the -- A MANEUVERING BELL. Telegraphs clank over to "2/3" speed. Pappy and Zap yank levers, making it so. Skimming through the room now is the CHIEF of the boat, 35. CHIEF Look alive, Stumpie. Got a U-boat out there.... STUMBO Hey, Chief? Krauts don't name their subs after females, do they? INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Brice is passing when he spots... Claire in her cabin. She uses a blade to cut new dressings for Schillings, who lies naked under a blanket. Presently Schillings stirs. Claire leans down to WHISPER SOMETHING in his ear. Brice watches. Is the guy awake? Or is Claire just talking to him like you might talk to a coma patient? INT. CONTROL ROOM LOOMIS What exactly bothers you? Odell and Loomis confer privately. Loomis bounces a yo-yo while they talk: It helps him shed stress. ODELL Well, you got a slow-sinking ship -- slow enough to get at least a few lifeboats off. But this U-boat only fires one torpedo the whole time. That's not textbook German tactics. They keep firing until the target is sunk. LOOMIS So it was their last torpedo. ODELL Why didn't they use their deck guns? LOOMIS What is this, Odell? Second patrol? ODELL My third. LOOMIS And your first was a little shakedown run off the coast of Florida in one of those old school boats? ODELL Just wondering if their story doesn't seem a little..."off." LOOMIS Wouldn't worry about it, champ -- they got here somehow. Hey, want coffee? ODELL Sure. LOOMIS Two cups. Sweet and blonde for me. He yo-yos away. If we weren't sure who the junior officer was before this conversation, we are now. INT. CONNING TOWER Sonar #1 presses headphones tighter to his ear. He's eavesdropping on the outside world via... EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY A hydrophone on the deck of the sub. INT. CONNING TOWER The sonar guy fast-clicks at Coors. "Got somethin' here." Coors grabs the growler phone and gives it a crank. COORS Sonar contact. INT. STATEROOM In his cabin, Kingsley sees Brice double-timing past. INT. CONNING TOWER Brice listens on spare headphones. We hear it now too: The SWISH-SWISH-SWISH of turning screws. Stopwatch in hand, Sonar #1 counts turns-per-minute. SONAR #1 90-plus turns. Could be a destroyer, could be.... LOOMIS That Rhine Class. Maybe we didn't shake him after all. INT. CONTROL ROOM Kingsley and Claire enter. Odell and Coors are here, listening to... SWISH-SWISH-SWISH. It's coming through the hull now. All eyes turn upward. EXT. GERMAN HULL - UNDERWATER - DAY The cruiser powers overhead, parting our hair with its keel. But now the screws shut down... INT. CONNING TOWER ...and the SWISHING DIES. SONAR #1 Listening for us.... BRICE Full stop! LOOMIS Full stop! Rig for quiet! INT. MANEUVERING ROOM As Pappy lunges on his levers. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the Manta's screws shut down. INT. MANTA - RIG-FOR-QUIET MONTAGE SELECTED SHOTS of the crew going church-mouse quiet: Odell clicking off a SQUEAKY FAN... A blueshirt snoring in his bunk, Hoag closing the guy's mouth... Someone shooing a pet hamster off its exercise wheel.. In the ship's office, Weird Wally stopping typing, putting his feet up, diving into some pulp fiction. He actually likes these moments. INT. CONNING TOWER SONAR #1 (whispering) How could they know we're here.... BRICE (to helmsman) 10 degrees down-bubble. Find us some cold. (down the hatch) Get on the thermograph, Mr. Odell. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the Manta drifts lower. INT. CONTROL ROOM CLOSE on the bathy-thermograph, a gauge of outside water temperature. Its stylus scratches out a line that now eeks lower. ODELL (into growler) Right there. Five-degree gradient at 2-1-0 feet. He finds Claire and Kingsley watching. ODELL Colder water...deflects sound waves...just in case they start to -- PING! It cuts right through the hull, right through our skulls. INT. CONNING TOWER As the sonar guy tears off his headphones. INT. MANTA - PINGING MONTAGE REACTION SHOTS as the PINGING is heard bow to stern. Pappy starts stuffing his ears with cotton. Other blueshirts follow suit. Some even bite down on rags. In the control room, Kingsley turns and hobbles out: He thinks he knows what's coming -- and wants no part of it. INT. CONNING TOWER The PINGING ENDS abruptly. Now an itchy silence. Is this when the depth-charges come? Loomis looks at... The sonar guy. "Anything?" He wags his head. "They ain't doin' nothin'." INT. CONTROL ROOM CLOSE on the bathy-thermograph. No one is watching it now except us -- and we see it take a another big drop. Claire hugs herself, feeling the cold. CLOSE on faces. Tight. Grim. Silent. The grand pause is shattered by... FRANK SINATRA "I'll be seeing you...in all the old familiar places...." The MUSIC IS INSANELY LOUD. At first no one knows where it's coming from. Then Odell lurches past Claire... INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and enters the empty wardroom. The phonograph is playing. RRRRRRRRIIIP: Odell slaps the needle off-track. Silence again. Brice appears. He glares at the record player. Then glares at Odell. ODELL Have no idea, sir. I just ran in and it was already -- INT. CONNING TOWER SONAR #1 Splashes! LOOMIS (down the hatch) Splashes! EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY DEPTH-CHARGE POV: With CAMERA RIDING the back of the depth- charge, we plummet through water. At first we see only more barrels dropping around us. But soon we spy our target, the Manta, looming up out of the murk. In a blinding flash, WE EXPLODE. INT. MANTA - CONCUSSION MONTAGE CONCUSSIONS rock the sub. We see lockers flying open... Bakelite boards shattering... Someone's front teeth shattering... The control-room depth gauge knocked off the wall... And blueshirts knocked out of their bunks. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY The Manta runs a GAUNTLET OF EXPLOSIONS that batters the sub from side to side. The last depth-charge is a wicked down-firing EXPLOSION. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Instantly the sub loses depth. Everyone pile-drives into the ceiling... ...gets pancaked there for a few seconds... ...then gets thrown back to the floor. Electrical PANELS BLOW. White lights die. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY One last depth-charge rains down...strikes the Manta's bow...and starts tumbling down the deck. INT. MANTA - CLANK-CLANK MONTAGE Stressed-out faces. Seen only by red light. Listening to that one BARREL CLANK-CLANK-CLANK over their heads. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY The depth-charge comes to a stop near the bridge. It just sits there. Unexploded. INT. CONTROL ROOM The SWISHING STARTS UP again: The enemy ship is moving on. We wait as another ROUND OF DEPTH-CHARGES goes off, more distant now. The SWISHING FADES AWAY. Blueshirts start bungling forward from aft rooms, jamming the control room doorway. BLUESHIRTS (overlapping) Shit on a stick, was that a dud? And who the fuck was playing music? Huh? Trying to get us killed? LOOMIS Back to stations! I want reports! BACK TO YOUR STATIONS! INT. CREW MESS The boat has stabilized. The mess room is now a temporary trauma center for the wounded, Odell doing what he can. The case load is eased by Claire, who stitches shut a gash on the inner thigh of... ZAP Christ, 'zat all my blood? Runnin' 'cross the floor like that? CLAIRE Only a pint. Tighter, keep the tourniquet tighter. ZAP Think I may faint. CLAIRE Hold on, hold on. Don't take this wrong now.... She buries her face is his lap to chew off the stitch. CLAIRE Better? ZAP Completely. Claire smiles. "Thought so." She turns to look for another patient and comes nose to nose with... BRICE I asked you to stay forward. ODELL My idea, sir. She's a certified med-tech, which may be the nearest thing to a doctor we've -- BRICE (to Claire) Were you or Mr. Kingsley in the wardroom before the attack? Just prior? CLAIRE I was in the control room, as I believe Kingsley was, too. BRICE He was with you the whole time? CLAIRE Be quicker, lieutenant, if you just tell me what you're after. Are you suggesting that one of us is responsible for the -- A rising REVVING-SCREECHING SOUND stops them both -- stops everyone here. It's the kind of sound you never want to hear aboard a submarine. Brice takes off. Odell is right behind. ODELL (to Claire) Keep working! Please! INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Running toward the SOUND, Brice collides with Chief. CHIEF Hot fish, out of the tube! Forward room! INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Brice reaches the doorway to see... Chaos: A torpedo runs wild in its moorings, PROPELLER SCREAMING at 10,000 rpm and spewing steam everywhere. Stumbo and Hoag and a few others are grappling with it, but it's like trying to wrestle a car. Odell jumps into the fray. Chief starts to join in, too -- but turns back, a new shade of pale. CHIEF Mark-14. It'll detonate magnetically, around any steel hull, after 500 yards. BRICE So? It's not moving. CHIEF The boat is. A horrible beat. INT. MANEUVERING ROOM As telegraphs slam over to "EMERGENCY REVERSE." EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As screws start spinning backwards. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the Manta slows -- but doesn't stop. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM The battle rages. There's so much exhaust that it's hard to tell who's doing what. CHIEF Get it out, get it out, just get it out the god damn tube! The men start working as a team: Odell opens a torpedo tube as... Others start cranking the come-along wench and... More bodies lean on the cable to help move... The SCREAMING TORPEDO. It inches toward the open tube. INT. CONTROL ROOM BRICE Torpedo party to the tower! Now, now, now, now, now! Brice races in. Battle stations over the IMC: BONG-BONG-BONG- BONG.... INT. CONNING TOWER The torpedo party double-times up the ladder. LOOMIS Open outer doors! Bow tubes! EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the outer torpedo doors open. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM The Chief has the torpedo in its tube. Fighting the exhaust, it takes a several bodies just to close the door. ODELL (into IMC) Fish in the barrel, sir! INT. CONNING TOWER LOOMIS Flood number two tube! INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM They hear the WATER FLOODING the tube and HITTING THE PROPS. It sounds like a nuclear garbage disposal. CHIEF Go, go, go, go, go.... EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the torpedo corkscrews out of the sub. INT. CONNING TOWER LOOMIS Torpedo underway! BRICE Hard left rudder! EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY Maneuvering faster than we thought a sub could, the Manta veers away, backs away from the torpedo that now spirals right toward CAMERA. It BLOWS in our face. INT. MANTA - DETONATION MONTAGE MULTIPLE SHOTS of the sub rocked by the detonation. Lights sputter, insulation cracks free and rains down on heads -- but all told, it could've been worse. Much worse. INT. CONNING TOWER An hour later. The boat's five officers -- Brice, Loomis, Coors, Odell, and Chief -- hold summit in the tower. LOOMIS ...well, maybe the phonograph wasn't secured...and maybe the intercom was left "on"...and maybe that fish went haywire for no reason, but goddamn.... Traded looks. Are they thinking the same thing? That it all started when the Brits came aboard? COORS And maybe someone's trying to kill us. BRICE (to Odell) Miss Paige claims she was in the control room the whole time. ODELL I think that's right. BRICE So what about the other one? ODELL Kingsley? COORS If that's his name. Where was he when it all happened? ODELL Not sure. May've stepped out. COORS "Stepped" out? Or "slipped" out? LOOMIS You know, maybe we're spending more time watchin' pretty little Missy than we are watchin' our backs. Odell double-takes: Loomis is staring at him. ODELL Me? I've talked to her twice. LOOMIS About what? COORS Heard you were bird-doggin' her, Odell. LOOMIS Been runnin' your mouth, ensign? About boat-matters? It knocks Odell off-balance. "Why are they pouncing on me?" ODELL Wai', wai', wait. Chief. Wasn't there a maintenance bulletin on Mark-14s? Something about self-starting? CHIEF (nodding) Got a history of twitchy behavior. (to others) And as for the record player goin' off -- well, yeah, that's strange, but I'm not sure it calls for a lynching party. Maybe we should all just take a deep breath and -- The PHONE GROWLS. Brice grabs it. BRICE Brice. STEWARD (O.S./GROWLER) 'Tenant, need you back in mess. Straight away. INT. CREW MESS Blueshirts watch anxiously as the steward shows Brice a pair of oily trousers. STEWARD Was all set to toss 'em out. Then I noticed this. CLOSE on the inside waistband. It's stitched "Sonderklasse Firma, Berlin." BRICE These came from.... STEWARD The half-dead guy. INT. ARMORY LOCKER - AFT TORPEDO ROOM CLOSE on ankle-chains being broken out. Just for insurance, a Browning sidearm is loaded. INT. CONTROL ROOM Heads turn as... The arrest party crosses the control room in wide strides. Brice has the pistol. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM/FORWARD CORRIDOR Claire is here, checking up on Schillings. Hearing FEET APPROACH, she turns and finds the men choking her doorway. BRICE Wake him up. CLAIRE I'm sorry, I'm not sure what -- BRICE Wake the German up. Her mouth opens but no words come out. Eerily, Schillings rolls over in his bunk and locks eyes with Brice. SCHILLINGS Hallo, mein kapitän. He's attempting to show grace under pressure. It goes unappreciated. STUMBO Jesus..... CLAIRE (preemptively) I'm the one who asked him not to speak. Me. I just thought it would be better if we all could think of him as any other -- STUMBO She had 'im right under our noses...whole goddamn time.... None too gently, Brice evicts Claire from the room, putting her in Odell's restraining arms. BRICE Away. Odell struggles to remove Claire, in part because she won't go gently, in part because she starts pleading her case directly to him. With growing desperation: CLAIRE I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything. His name is Bernard Schillings, he's a downed aviator and a patient of mine. He's a prisoner of war, which means he's entitled to protection under the Geneva Conv -- ODELL Got to come this way, ma'am. CLAIRE He had no cause to do those things...he has a family, children...he wants to get home just like the rest of us.... ODELL Let them sort it out.... CLAIRE Doesn't matter whose side he's on now.... ODELL Be all right, really, just.... INTERCUT Claire and Odell with... Brice and Schillings. Now in quick escalating moves: Someone brandishes the chains. Schillings sits up quickly, getting his feet under him. He doesn't know if they're about to chain him -- or beat him. Brice shows his pistol. Schillings' reaches for the blade left by Claire. Brice levels the pistol. Schillings' hand. Hovering over the blade. Brice's face: "Don't." Schillings' eyes. Darting. Panicking. We're BACK ON Claire and Odell for the GUNSHOT. They flinch together. INT. CONTROL ROOM As heads spin to the SOUND. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR The men part as Brice exits the stateroom. Claire breaks from Odell and starts for the cabin. Brice slams a hand against the opposite wall, blocking her. She sees the back- splash of blood on his shirt sleeve. His pistol sleeve. BRICE You should have told me. CLAIRE (overwhelmed) Maybe I was worried that...that you would do exactly what you did. BRICE You should have told me no matter what, because your little secret nearly cost every man here his life. CLAIRE But he had no reason to -- BRICE Mr. Odell, the woman is confined to quarters for the duration of patrol. If she asks to use the toilet, you are to bring her a bucket. Stumbo, secure the body. STUMBO Fuckin' A-1, sir. BRICE Mr. Loomis, conn is yours. I'll be in my berth -- sleeping. He leaves. Stumbo cobra-spits in the general direction of... CLAIRE (forceless, still trying to explain) I just wanted to save one...just one of my patients.... She searches faces for a hint of understanding. Odell is the only one who will even meet her eyes. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM Behind drawn curtains, Brice removes his bloody shirt, puts it in a laundry sack. Unlaces his shoes. Finds more blood on his hands, washes it off. Lies back on the bunk. Clicks off a light. Blows a long sigh and finally, finally closes his eyes. FRANK SINATRA "I'll be seeing you..." The eyes leap open. FRANK SINATRA "...in all the old familiar places...." BRICE (breathless) No.... It wasn't the German. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM As Claire rolls over in her bunk, hearing. INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM CLOSE on the phonograph. Spinning away. Brice stares -- then snatches the record off the turn-table and smashes it. He smashes every goddamn record he can find. BRICE So who's screwing with me? Huh? INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS Stepping out: BRICE WHICH ONE OF YOU IS DOING THIS NOW? It echoes the length of the boat. Only the WHALES ANSWER. But this time their cries are different -- sounding somehow less animal than before. More human. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY The Manta plows on through the murk. There are no whales. Just the submarine. Alone. FADE OUT INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Stumbo finishes mummy-wrapping Schillings' body in canvas. Seeped blood shows the fatal wound. Deeper in the room we find Brice, Loomis, Coors. The three lieutenants have retreated to the forward end of the boat for a discreet talk. Odell enters and joins. LOOMIS How're those hydrogen levels? ODELL Almost three percent. Chief says we need to vent before long. BRICE We'll ride surface tonight. 2100 hours. Odell nods and waits for the discreet talk to continue, assuming he's welcome. Instead... BRICE Something else? ODELL Well, just.... I can't believe it's one of our own hands doing this. Seven weeks, I think I know most the guys now. Just don't believe it's one of them. BRICE Been a rough patrol -- men do strange things under duress. Want you to keep your eyes open, Odell. Could be anyone. ODELL Aye-aye. Odell withdraws to the doorway. STUMBO Maybe we could vent our bleeder, too. ODELL Say again? STUMBO Little Missy. Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and don't die, I always [say] -- ODELL Shut up, Stumbo. Just shut your stupid mouth. The three lieutenants watch as Odell leaves. LOOMIS Bright kid, Odell. INT. IRON LUNG - FLASHBACK - NIGHT We're in a metal cylinder. But where? Is this the inside of a torpedo tube? As we adjust to the dim light, we find ourselves looking at the frail body of a 10-year-old girl. A hand comes up to try and scratch her nose... But the hand bumps into a bulkhead. Blocked. INT. CHILD'S ROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT On the other side of the bulkhead, the 10-YEAR-OLD GIRL screws up her nose in lieu of scratching it. It doesn't help. WIDER TO reveal a child's room, dolls and other timeless playthings in evidence. Completely out of place here is an iron- lung machine -- hulking, ugly, loathsome -- a coffin for the not- yet-dead. Baffles rise and fall, GASPING in sync with the girl's own RASPY BREATHING. Unable to sleep, the girl searches the mirror mounted above her face. HER POV: Of a half-open door behind her. A light is on in the outer hallway. O.S. VOICES. Is it morning yet? Is it time to get out now? The silhouette of an adult -- HER MOTHER, maybe -- enters and speaks from the doorway. LABORED VOICE You shouldn't be here.... INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM Claire wakes -- and finds herself breathing badly. It takes her a moment to normalize her breath, to remember where she is. Now, twenty years late, Claire scratches her nose. LABORED VOICE You should get off when you can.... "Wasn't that voice in my dream?" Claire peers at the bunk below. There's someone there. LABORED VOICE Get off before it's too late.... She reaches for the light. INT. CONTROL ROOM A SCREAM. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR/CLAIRE'S STATEROOM Brice lopes forward. Others have beaten him here, including Odell and Kingsley. Brice pushes through to see... Schillings back in his bunk, face exposed, petrified mouth open. CLAIRE I thought he...spoke to me. KINGSLEY Claire.... CLAIRE No, it wasn't his voice, but it was...I mean.... KINGSLEY Claire. Claire takes another look -- and sees things differently now in full light. Schillings is clearly dead. Her fright giving way to anger, Claire looks back at... Stumbo and Hoag. Hiding their grins. CLAIRE (going after them) Is this what you do for sport? You have nothing better to do in the midst of a war than to play sick little jokes with -- Odell wedges between. ODELL Okay, it's over, it's over.... BRICE (re body) Wrap it back up, Stumpie. We'll dump him when we surface. CLAIRE A bit more respect for the dead might be in order, Mr. Brice. From everyone aboard this ship. BRICE This is a "boat" you're a guest on, not a "ship." CLAIRE I won't forget. INT. CONTROL ROOM The body, rewrapped, is carried into the control room by Stumbo and Hoag. HOAG (with labored voice) "Get off before it's too late...." Stumbo mock-screams in imitation of Claire. We understand that Hoag was the ventriloquist. INT. CONNING TOWER Hoisted up into the tower, the corpse gets dumped behind the second-string sound man, SONAR #2. STUMBO Compliments of the C.O. SONAR #2 I'll thank him when I see him. Getting a whiff, he clicks on a fan. Hoag starts below. Stumbo starts adding chains to the corpse's ankles in anticipation of a sea-burial. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM Kingsley limps in with two coffees. KINGSLEY Since no one seems able to sleep anyway... try some of this motor oil they call "coffee".... He finds Claire reclined ungainly, her head craned back so as to open her breathing passage. She's having difficulties. KINGSLEY Claire? CLAIRE Changing, isn't it? The air. KINGSLEY Think you'll pull through? CLAIRE (indicating her chest) Comes and goes. Polio-myelitis, growing up. Didn't breathe well when I slept, so every night -- eight months running -- they stuck me in an iron lung. Kingsley winces, seeing the irony of being stuck aboard a submarine now. KINGSLEY I saw you down in the respirator ward, of course, working with all the patients, but I never knew.... CLAIRE Was so wretched that I swore I'd help other people through it, someday, if I could.... (eyeing the curved hull around her) Maybe it's just all this metal...this "boat" of theirs. Something not right about it...sealed off...living below the real world.... KINGSLEY We're scarcely the people to complain, Claire. Especially after what with Schillings -- which you know I thought was a mistake. CLAIRE (not listening) Something not right.... INT. CONTROL ROOM Electrical mates replace vacuum tubes in the radar boards, Coors supervising. Behind their backs... The bathy-thermograph. The stylus is etching lower again: We're entering cold water. Or at least that's what the gauge says. PLANESMAN #1 Can have it any temperature you want -- 'long as it's either "too hot" or "too cold." He punches into a over-shirt. INT. CONNING TOWER Stumbo is hooking weights to the corpse. Soon he notices... The pool of blood expanding on the canvas. Is it possible? Do dead bodies still bleed like this? Stumbo tries to shrug it off and get back to work. He tries. HOARSE WHISPER So much dark.... The voice was like a rusty hinge. Stumbo shoots a look down the hatch, but Hoag is long gone. That means the voice must've come from... Sonar #2, the only other person here. STUMBO Nice try. Hoag tell you? He musta toldja. The sound man never turns around. Is he pretending to not hear? HOARSE WHISPER ... trying...trying to find the way back, but... Stumbo spins to face the corpse. "No fucking way." He eases his ear to the canvas-wrapped head. HOARSE WHISPER ...but it's so cold here.... INT. CONTROL ROOM WHUMP! Stumbo hits the control room floor like a sack of groceries. He just fell from the tower and landed behind... COORS 'Smatter? Stumpie? Eyes riveted on the conning tower, Stumbo backs out of the control room. INT. MANEUVERING ROOM STUMBO ...tellin' ya, some baaaad hoodoo on this boat. Zap and a MESS STEWARD are giving Stumbo the time of day, but Pappy's in no mood. PAPPY Hey, Stumbo? Mighta worked on the female, but not me. Go try -- STUMBO Fuck the Brillo pad, this ain't about her. It talked to me. ZAP The dead guy. STUMBO The dead Kraut. PAPPY Uh-huh. And did he talk to you in English or German? STUMBO Well, it was, uh...English, I guess. PAPPY Case closed. Give it a blow, huh? You're upsettin' my lucky fish. MESS STEWARD Stumbo, you wouldn't also happen to be the Sinatra fan, wouldja? STUMBO Go up there. Right now. Don't believe me? Listen to the dead guy. MESS STEWARD I gotta milk the cows. The steward starts to leave. Stumbo reels him back with a new thought. STUMBO What if...you know...what if it's "him"? Even though we don't, everyone here knows who "him" is, and the thought, no matter how crazy, drops a guillotine blade on the conversation. Off their mute faces, CUT TO: INT. CONNING TOWER A clock shows 2100 hours. BRICE Let's take a look. Loomis jerks the alarm-box. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR AHOOGA-AHOOGA-AHOOGA. LOOMIS (O.S./1MC) Rig for surface. Prepare to charge batteries and take on air through main induction. Officers and blue shirts file past on their way to stations. When the forward section of the boat has thinned out, Kingsley hobbles into the corridor -- followed by Claire. Claire walks the hall, breathing deep, stretching her legs, testing her leash. All cabins here have name-plates that list quartered officers. But at Brice's cabin, Claire notices... No name-plate. Just the ghost-image of one that used to be here. Claire eases open the curtain to see... A bunk, chair, clothes locker, fold-down desk, stand-up photo of Brice and his wife. And a book on the desk. The "PATROL LOG." A thinking beat. Claire signals "one-minute" to Kingsley, then slips... INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM - CONTINUOUS ...inside. Claire opens the patrol log with one guilty finger -- and suddenly the pages go blood red, startling her. LOOMIS (O.S./1MC) Switching to night lights. INT. CONNING TOWER More red lights activate as: LOOMIS Eight degrees up-bubble. We're on our way to 65 feet. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT As the Manta angles toward the surface. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM Eyes adjusting to the red lights, Claire begins reading the patrol log. CLAIRE (V.O.) "1420 hours. Took periscope photos of German sub-pens at Lorient before moving on to areas north. O.N.I. should be happy with results. 1550 hours. Saw multiple shipping targets but passed on all. Men getting itchy to come home with at least one kill..." She stops cold, hearing an UNKNOWN MAN'S VOICE speaking the words right along with her. Claire actually checks over her shoulder before continuing. CLAIRE (V.O.) "...but so far I'm resisting the temptation, staying focused on primary mission of photo recon...." The voice is gone. Was her head just playing games with her? EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT As our periscope, seen from below, breaks the surface. INT. CONNING TOWER PERISCOPE POV: Through big dark swells, we spy moonlight on the surface. Loomis passes the scope to Brice. LOOMIS Some tall grass out there.... BRICE Good skies, though. Should be able to shoot the stars and lock our position. Well done. (to Coors) Sextant. In my cabin. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM The sextant. In an open box, it sits right next to... Claire. She flips ahead, finds a conspicuously blank page. "What goes here?" She flips further ahead to read. CLAIRE (V.O.) "0840 hours. Picked up three survivors from the Fort James, British merchantman and hospital ship, reportedly victims of a German U-boat..." (huffy) "Reportedly." CLOSE on a cross. It's been doodled in the margins by Brice, presumably. Claire notes it and flips on. INT. CONTROL ROOM As Coors drops down the ladder and heads forward. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM Noticing something, Claire flips back and forth between two entries: They're written by different hands. Now Claire checks the front of the patrol log and finds reference to... "Lt. Cmdr. Winters." Frowning, Claire eases open a locker. Taped up inside are photos of an officer we haven't yet seen, the 40ish WINTERS. Her frown deepens. "Just who's cabin is this?" KINGSLEY (O.S.) ...wondering where a fellow could get a little Earl Grey tea.... COORS (O.S.) Check with the mess steward. Claire is about to close the locker when she notices one last photo. This one transfixes her. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR KINGSLEY (stalling) So we'll be surfacing soon? Taking on some fresh air? COORS Trying to. He slaps open the curtain... INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM ...and pulls up short. Claire lies quietly on the bunk. COORS What're you doing here? CLAIRE Hmm? Oh, wasn't feeling comfortable in my room -- what with the bloody walls. Didn't think anyone would -- COORS Shouldn't be in the skipper's cabin without permission. CLAIRE Gladly ask him. Mr. Brice is the skipper, isn't he? It thumbs a nerve in Coors: Is the question as innocent as it sounds? Or is she baiting him? He grabs the sextant. COORS Lieutenant Brice is the current C.O. of this boat. And you need his permission to be anywhere besides your assigned quarters. He holds open the curtain. She takes the hint. INT. CLAIRE'S ROOM/FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS Claire waits until Coors is gone before removing the last photo from her shirt. CLOSER, we see it shows two men shaking hands at a U.S.O. function. One we take to be Winters. The other is Frank Sinatra. INT. CONNING TOWER CLOSE on the depth-gauge. "0" feet. A look-out is spinning the wheel of the bridge hatch, about to open it. We're seconds from breathing fresh air when... SONAR #2 Screws kicking over! Starboard quarter! Brice lunges to the periscope, swings it around fast. PERISCOPE POV: A hulking silhouette crosses the wedge of moonlight. It's the German heavy. BRICE Periscope down! Emergency dive! LOOMIS Emergency dive! Blow negative and cycle the vents! AHOOGA-AHOOGA. The periscope plummets. The hatch is cranked shut. The Christmas tree goes green. Ballast levers are jerked. Plane wheels get spun hard. EXT. GERMAN HULL - UNDERWATER - NIGHT We hear DISEMBODIED PINGING. Suddenly the hull of the German ship passes overhead, hydrophones prominent. INT. CONNING TOWER With all eyes on the ceiling: LOOMIS How the hell they know? BRICE Depth to keel? HELMSMAN 120, sir. A beat. BRICE Let's use it all. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT As the Manta descends. INT. CONNING TOWER LOOMIS (to helmsman) Trim it off...trim it off...and...all stop. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT The Manta's props. Shutting down. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Claire and Kingsley hear the sub go eerily quiet before... A SIX-CHANNEL BOOM. It jolts them hard. INT. CONTROL ROOM Looking for answers, Kingsley hobbles in. He manages to corner Coors. KINGSLEY What? What did we hit? COORS Just the bottom. KINGSLEY "Just the...." Well, just how long can we stay down here? Before the CO2 gets so -- COORS Don't worry about CO2. KINGSLEY Don't? COORS "Hydrogen." Enigmatically, Coors moves on. But Odell overheard. ODELL We use the diesels above, batteries below -- and the batteries off-gas hydrogen. As for "how long"... LOOMIS (O.S./1MC) Rig for quiet. All hands ordered to racks unless on watch -- no extraneous activity. And the smoking lamp is out. ODELL Guess we're gonna find out. INT. ENGINE ROOM MOTORMAC #1 takes a quick drag on his cigarette before moving to stub it out. But he catches himself, noticing... The cigarette burning oddly. Flaring unnaturally. An ALARM SOUNDS. Responding, Chief double-times in with Zap. They drop through a floor hatch... INT. BATTERY ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and reach this area crammed with, literally, 200,000 pounds of lead-acid battery cells. Chief cranes his neck to check... A ceiling-mounted hydrogen monitor. The needle shows 5%, start of the orange zone. Chief kills the alarm. The men swap looks. "Not good." INT. CREW QUARTERS WEIRD WALLY "...Johnny tried whistling a little tune, but it didn't help -- his nerves were like old frayed electrical cords. So he paused in the cold dead heart of the cemetery to light his last cigarette..." Weird Wally's back at it, reading by hampster-light now: The hampster runs on a wheel, which turns a mini-generator, which powers a small reading light, which provides the only white light in the red-lit room. The audience is noticeably larger than before, and the men seem rapt by the latest installment of "Incredibly Weird Tales." WEIRD WALLY "Just then the pregnant moon ran away, wisely taking refuge behind the leaden clouds. And now, beside Johnny's unwary foot, the ground -- the soft, wormy, freshly dug earth -- began to heave...." Odell enters. As he checks on the wounded, he sets about confiscating matches and lighters from all the men. ODELL How're those stitches holdin', Zap? Good? Okay, matches, Zippos, c'mon, give 'em up, Chief wants 'em under lock and key.... Be right back to change those bandages, Meyers.... Ignitables get dumped in a bucket. Odell reaches Weird Wally's group. ODELL What's this one called? SONAR #1 "The Undeniable Undead..." HOAG 'Bout these Chinese railroad workers, couple hundred years ago. Buried alive. STUMBO (gravely) It's research. SONAR #1 They're dead, but not dead-dead, y'know? HOAG Like on the farm, you chop a chicken, sometimes it don't die right off? I seen this rooster chase a girl 'round a whole big barn once -- with no head. WEIRD WALLY So...what happened to her head? ODELL Wallace, you givin' everybody nightmares again? WEIRD WALLY It's my calling, sir. ODELL Well, stow it. And gimme that Zippo, Hoag. The group breaks up. Sighing, Weird Wally dog-ears the page and slips the 10-cent pulp inside his mattress cover. Odell exits. Instantly the pulp comes back out, the men regroup. STUMBO So Wallace? What's, like, the "theme" of the story? WEIRD WALLY Saying that death can be a very imprecise thing. Just because we want it to be clean and absolute, doesn't make it so. Sometimes death gets.... HOAG "Sloppy." WEIRD WALLY "Sloppy." STUMBO Very "sloppy." INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM A piss-bucket on the floor. Used. Claire is staring at the Sinatra photograph, absorbed in it until she hears a creepy FLUTTERING-SLAPPING SOUND. Where is it coming from? VOICE (O.S.) Seaweed... Claire starts. It's Brice, filling her doorway. BRICE ...maybe a fishing net. Gets caught up and slaps against the hull. Hear a lot of strange things at depth. I can't even identify them all. The SOUND FADES. Whatever it was. BRICE So what should I do with you? Hmm? What would happen in your navy if a passenger defied orders aboard ship? Chained up? Gagged? What? CLAIRE I'm sorry. I regret not telling you about Schillings because...well, I should've realized that a submarine isn't a good place to keep secrets. Is it? Noting the double-edge of her words, Brice looks off. Does he have trouble meeting her eyes? BRICE We were in a running battle with a German cruiser. Took some licks in the depth- charging, but we finally got our shot in: Cracked its back with one torpedo. We went topside to survey damage. Ship was already gone, but there was a lot of debris in the water, and Winters decides to go down on deck and haul some in. Middle of the Atlantic, and he wants to do a little souvenir hunting -- something for his fireplace mantle, think he said. I tried to talk him out of it, but.... Anyway, the boat hit an underwater obstruction. He fell, struck his head, went under before we could get to him. (off her look) Heard you were asking. CLAIRE So he drowned. BRICE No real secret -- already radioed Connecticut with news of the accident. (noting piss bucket) Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, Miss Paige. Feel free to move about the forward sections of the -- The overhead lights brighten... INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS ...and flare out all at once. The corridor where Brice stands is abruptly coffin dark. Soon he perceives... A silhouette at corridor's end, just mirroring his stare. Who is it? SILHOUETTE/ZAP Sorry, sir. Humidity builds up, trips out the power buss. I'll get right on it. It takes Brice a moment to shake it off: It's almost like he was expecting someone else. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM - CONTINUOUS CLAIRE So would you reconsider England? Finding a port there? BRICE I'm sorry. He withdraws... INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS ...and grabs a battle lantern off the wall. When he flicks it on: LOOMIS Sorry for what? Loomis stands there mock-casual, one towel around his waist, another drying his hair. BRICE [She was] just asking about Winters. LOOMIS And you told her.... BRICE The story. Brice moves on, leaving Loomis in the dark. INT. CONNING TOWER ODELL (urgently) So what is it? Identify. SONAR #2 Coming up astern, but.... Odell snaps on headphones. PUSH IN TIGHT as he hears the expected SCREWS of the pursuit ship -- and then something else, too: An EERIE HARMONIC. SONAR #2 Don't know what that is.... EXT. UNDERWATER - NIGHT Sweeping out of the murk is an array of steel cables. Towed by the German ship overhead, the CABLES THRUM LIKE CHELLO STRINGS as they rush toward us. Soon we see what the cables drag: Hooks. Oversized grappling hooks, each coming for us like some prehistoric claw. The hooks hit bottom. They rip up the ocean floor on their way toward... The Manta. One HOOK SCRAPES the length of the sub, leaving claw marks on the hull while... INT. MANEUVERING ROOM Filling the boat with a METAL-ON-METAL HOWL. PAPPY Shit of a saint.... INT. CONTROL ROOM Brice enters fast. The towel-wrapped Loomis is right behind. LOOMIS Hooks! They're using their hooks! From above: ODELL Lieutenant Brice! What are your orders? Brice wavers: If they can't surface and they can't hide on the bottom.... EXT. UNDERWATER - NIGHT The hooks retreat into the dark, but... Overhead, the German hull turns hard. The hooks reappear, bearing down on us again, whiskering right past CAMERA on their way back to... The Manta. INT. CONTROL ROOM LOOMIS WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS, MR. BRICE? EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT One hook snags the periscope sheers... And rips them away. INT. CONNING TOWER Both periscope cylinders buckle. Seawater rushes in through ruptured gaskets... INT. CONTROL ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and torrents into the control room. Bodies start washing down, Odell among them. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR COLLISION ALARMS. Claire and Kingsley head for the control room, but... Someone slams the airtight door in their faces, locking them out. INT. CONTROL ROOM LOOMIS Who else? Anyone? IS EVERYBODY OUT? Praying so, Odell and some blueshirts fight to get the tower sealed off. Brice is still unresponsive, so Loomis, butt naked now, towel washed away, takes over: He pushes the helmsman onto redundant controlls down here: LOOMIS Blow ballast! All ahead flank! HELMSMAN Heading, sir? LOOMIS Any goddamn heading -- just get us outta here! INT. MANEUVERING ROOM As Pappy jams his levers. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT Kicking over, the Manta's props churn up clouds of silt. WIDER as the Manta lifts off the bottom. The giant hooks return for the death-stroke... But this time they miss. Narrowly. INT. CONTROL ROOM The PINGING STARTS FADING, faces start to ease: Maybe they'll come out of this alive. Loomis tracks down Brice. LOOMIS Let's hope you do better at the Board of Inquiry. He said it only for Brice -- but when he turns away in disgust, he notices Odell staring at him. Brice, too, sees that Odell overheard. INT. ENGINE ROOM Minutes later. Chief is hustling through the engine room when Motormac #1 catches him. MOTORMAC #1 Chief? Take a look. CLOSE on the fuel-oil gauges in question: One shows pressure, the other level. The pressure gauge reads below normal. The level gauges shows equivalent to "half full" -- 190 tons. MOTORMAC #1 Look right to you? Chief studdies the situation -- then smacks the level gauges. The needle plummets to 80 tons. INT. CONTROL ROOM Bursting in: CHIEF We're sloughin' oil. 'Least 10 tons in the last 12 hours. REACTION SHOTS of the still-drenched Brice, Loomis, Odell. "What else can go wrong?" INT. CONTROL ROOM START on blue-prints being slap-rolled open. They detail the Manta's superstructure. CHIEF ...somewhere in the port tank. And if it's leaking here or here...it's dumping oil into main ballast. Which means every time we surface or dive -- LOOMIS We leave a goddamn slick. BRICE That's how. That's how they been ridin' us. PLANESMAN #1 This boat is cursed.... He meant to say it under his breath. But suddenly everyone's staring at him. PLANESMAN #1 Figgera speech. COORS So how do we fix it? CHIEF Only one way. From the outside-in. We hear a distant salvo of DEPTH-CHARGES. LOOMIS Oh, they'll be linin' up for this job. BRICE Odell, make ready some dive gear and pick two volunteers... ODELL Aye-aye. BRICE ...beside yourself. INT. SHIP'S OFFICE/FORWARD CORRIDOR WEIRD WALLY ...so you want someone to free-dive outside...into coal-black water...make our way below the boat...locate the flood ports...slither in between the two hulls... Odell is petitioning volunteers. Weird Wally, Stumbo, and Hoag are the dubious prospects. ODELL Find the leak and fix it. That's right. WEIRD WALLY ...at night... HOAG Hang on. If we're still submerged, that means the main tank's fulla water. WEIRD WALLY ...in the dark... ODELL Chief thinks with the tower flooded, that gives us enough weight to stay down even when there's air in the main. WEIRD WALLY ...with depth charges and all this inexplicable shit happening. ODELL Hey, you up to it or not? WEIRD WALLY News flash: "Yeoman Wallace Leads Desperate Repair Mission." Chief appears, lugging dive gear. He and Odell train their cross- hairs on Stumbo. STUMBO Fuck, no. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Stumbo. He's outfitted with goggles, respirator, fins, battle- lantern. "How the shit did this happen?" Odell, Weird Wally, and Stumbo are prepping under the escape trunk. Odell notices Coors suiting up nearby. LOOMIS I asked him to go. Buddy system. Odell accepts without comment. Working at a back-up sonar station here, Sonar #1 throws a switch: A steel cylinder drops through the boat, pushing out... EXT. MANTA SONAR CAVITY - UNDERWATER - NIGHT A hydrophone. It deploys beneath the Manta. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Claire arrives in time to see Odell poised on the ladder beneath the escape trunk. Sonar finishes his scan. SONAR #1 Explosions. Starboard flank. Long way off, though. Claire catches Odell's eyes. "You're going out there with the depth-charges?" LOOMIS (to divers) You're greased. Odell answers her with a shrug. "Guess so." INT. ESCAPE TRUNK A hatch closes beneath the four men. The trunk fills with sea water. WEIRD WALLY Hey, when we first get out there? Everybody turn off their lights, okay? Be really amazing. COORS Belay that, Wallace. The water hits their chins. They bite down on mouth-pieces. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT A deck-hatch opens. One by one, the four men drift out into near- perfect dark. Coors sparks up an underwater torch. It flares to life, revealing... An explosion of stingrays. Flapping madly, they scramble away from the light -- but not before they scared the bile out of us. VERY WIDE: Leading with the torch, the men crawl head-first down the side of the sub. In the distance, DEPTH CHARGES EXPLODE, backlighting the entire bulk of the sub. The divers are miniscule by comparison, mere pilot-fish on a whale's back. EXT. MANTA FLOOD-PORTS - UNDERWATER - NIGHT They arrive below. The sub's flood-ports are here, open to the sea, and the first three men squeeze through. For a moment, Odell is alone outside the sub. And in that moment... A presence wells up behind him. Odell spins. What was that? Just another ray? His lantern probes black water. Nothing now. It grabs his shoulder. Odell nearly coughs up his mouth-piece, but... It's only Weird Wally. Hanging upside-down through the port, he gives Odell a goggle-eyed look. "Comin' or not?" INT. MAIN BALLAST (NOTE: A submarine has two hulls -- the pressure hulls on the inside, a sea hull on the outside. We're between the hulls now. It's a place few people, even submariners, have ever seen.) Surfacing, the men beam lights around to behold... A curving cathedral of steelwork. The tank is maybe 10 feet wide by 20 feet tall by who-knows-how long. Oil and kelp bob on the surface of the water. Dead squid dangle from struts and braces. Lots of them. STUMBO Holy Jamoley.... COORS Musta sucked up a school of squid, one point.... Coors uses a steel mallet to TAP the inner hull... INT. CONTROL ROOM ...and send a message to the control room. CHIEF They're in. Chief RETURN-KNOCKS. BRICE (to Loomis) Standing down for a while. LOOMIS Good idea. Little rack time, feel like a champ. It grates on Brice, but he lets it go. CLAIRE (to Chief) How long should it take? CHIEF Once they find it? Pretty straight- forward repair. Claire eyes the hull. If it's claustrophobic in here, it must be intolerable in there. CLAIRE Easily said, from this side. INT. MAIN BALLAST COORS You guys, forward. We'll check aft. Splitting up, Coors and Odell slosh one way, Stumbo and Weird Wally the other. Anxious to get this over with, Stumbo heads out fast. CAMERA LAGS BEHIND with Weird Wally. WEIRD WALLY "Making his way through the chamber, redolent with the stench of dead and dying calamari...the trailing man realized... that it wasn't such a good idea to be the trailing man...." Weirding himself out, Weird Wally hurries to catch up. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM Brice sits. He stares at one particular book on his shelf for a troubled beat before pulling it down. It's the patrol log. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Passing, Claire notices a light on in the skipper's cabin. She lays an eye on the curtain-crack to see... Brice. He runs a Kurtz-like hand over his skull as he ponders that blank page of the patrol log: Portrait of a man who feels the hounds of Hell gaining on him. INT. SPLIT SEAM - MAIN BALLAST The ballast tank finally dead-ends. Here Stumbo and Weird Wally find... A split seam. FUEL OIL GURGLES through. Stumbo breaks out wooden wedges. Weird Wally uses a mallet to TAP A MORSE MESSAGE on the outer hull for... INT. MAIN BALLAST Coors and Odell. They stop and listen. ODELL "Found it." [Should we] head back? COORS They found one. Searching for other ruptures, they press on. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM EXTREMELY CLOSE on Brice's fountain pen, writing. The words don't come easy. BRICE (V.O.) "2330 hours: We surface to confirm sinking of German ship. Four officers go topside -- Commander Winters, myself, Lt. Loomis... INT. MAIN BALLAST BRICE (V.O.) ...and Lt. j.g. Steven Coors." Continuing aft, Coors leads Odell through hip-deep water. It seems even darker at this end of the tank. ODELL So the night we lost Old Man Winters... Coors stops. COORS Odd time to bring that up. ODELL It's an odd place. How did he bang his head? 'Fore he went over? COORS You heard. ODELL I heard that the boat hit something -- but I never felt anything down below. SOMETHING SPLASHES nearby. Odell jumps and beams his light on... A squid's head in the water, one big eye watching him. Did it just fall? Coors studies the back of Odell's head. As he does, we DROP DOWN to study the steel mallet in Coors' hand. Odell turns back. COORS Let's keep movin'. INT. SPLIT SEAM - MAIN BALLAST Drenched in oil, Stumbo drives wooden wedges into the split. Weird Wally provides light. Soon SLOSHING FOOTSTEPS turn them both around to see... Absolutely nothing. STUMBO What? WEIRD WALLY Didn't say anything. STUMBO But what were you thinkin'? WEIRD WALLY Well, I used to hear about these dock workers who got welded up inside these kinda places -- and were never heard from again. STUMBO You are so fucking out of bounds with that shit, Wallace. INT. WATER FALL - MAIN BALLAST Coors and Odell reach the after terminus and a fall of water. They point lights up but can't see the source. COORS Stern tank, looks likes. Getting ready to climb, he belts his hammer, slips off fins. COORS So anything I say stays here? This side of the hull? (off Odell's nod) There were survivors from the sinking. Brice and Loomis even started to fish a few out. But Winters had other ideas -- he ordered Brice to bring a gunnery party topside. Well, three of us had a problem with machine-gunning these men right in the water -- even if they were Germans. There was an argument. Got kinda heated. Coors starts climbing a cat's cradle of girders. The steel is covered with algae, making the footing difficult. ODELL Why didn't you tell us? COORS Guess we were trying to protect him, his memory. Felt Winters was a good C.O. -- even if he could be a tough sonuvabitch, sometimes. For his reputation...his family's sake.... Coors finds another seam-split. Water fans from this one. ODELL Okay. But I still don't understand how he hit his head. COORS Slippery metal...bad footing.... Coors takes the steel mallet out. He looks back down at... Odell way below. Hard to tell if he's buying it: He's just sweeping his light around now -- and not looking up. It'd be so easy.... COORS Accidents happen, right? Right beside Coors, something moves in the fan of water. Coors jars and looks again. Nothing now. And just when he decides his nerves are acting up... A forms extrudes through the water. A face. Coors recoils. The hammer drops. Odell looks up as... The falling hammer smashes into him and his lantern. Everything goes dark. INTERCUT ALL THIS WITH: EXT. MANTA - FLASHBACKS - NIGHT QUICK FLASHBACKS: Of Winters. His head striking the deck. Falling overboard. Hitting the water face-first. INT. MANTA - SERIES OF ROOMS A HOWLING SCREAM. RAPID-FIRE REACTION SHOTS around the boat: Claire and Kingsley. Loomis and Chief. They all know it's coming from between the hulls. INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM As Brice's fountain pen blots the page. INT. SPLIT SEAM - MAIN BALLAST Weird Wally and Stumbo look toward the DECAYING SCREAM. A petrified beat, then... They bolt. INT. CONTROL ROOM Everyone rushes here. Chief is banging the hull. CHIEF Coors! Sound off! KINGSLEY Here? Or aft? Where was it? CLAIRE Get him out, get him out of there... CHIEF Odell! SOUND OFF! ODELL! Brice enters. He and Loomis touch eyes. INT. MAIN BALLAST Lights bouncing wildly, Stumbo and Weird Wally head in the direction of the scream. They collide with Odell. STUMBO Fuck of God, was that you? ODELL Gimme the light, gimme the light, gimme the light.... They all move aft now, senses racing, ducking girders and pushing through squid entrails -- before realizing: Those aren't squid entrails. They lift their lights to find... Coors. He's draped over a girder above them. When he fell, he must've impacted so hard that he vomited one of his lungs. It dangles from his dead mouth like an embryonic sac. They gape. "Is this shit even possible?" ODELL Get him down.... SLOSHING FOOTSTEPS. They whirl to see... Something retreating into shadow. A human form? Is there someone else in here? Stumbo takes off like a cannon shot. ODELL Help me get him down. Weird Wally spurts after Stumbo. For one moment Odell is left alone with a dead Coors...the dangling lung...and the Thing In The Shadows before... He dives away, following the other two. EXT. MANTA FLOOD-PORTS - UNDERWATER - NIGHT With adrenal speed, Stumbo and Weird Wally shoot out the bottom of the sub. Odell appears a beat behind. Just as he's about to clear... Something catches his foot. Maybe his fin is simply caught on a barb, but Odell doesn't bother to investigate: He kicks right out of his fin and keeps swimming. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM The escape trunk is cracked open. Three men get dumped inside with the seawater. Instantly everyone is TALKING AT THEM. LOOMIS Shut up...shut up...WOULD YOU GROW SOME DICKS AND SHUT UP! (half-beat) Now where is Mr. Od... Odell rolls onto his back. LOOMIS ...Coors. Where's Coors? The three men just stare back through goggles, sucking on mouth- pieces, too amped up to respond. Soon we grow aware of RANDOM TAPPING SOUNDS. BRICE Tell me that's him. That's gotta be Coors. He's still alive, right? WEIRD WALLY (locating his voice) Sir...that's the one person...I can guarantee it's not. Claire pushes through the crowd to check on Odell. He indicates "I'll live." But Stumbo is still breathing like a plow horse. Claire tries to take his pulse but gets slapped away hard: It's like she touched a burn victim. STUMBO Don't touch...don't touch... HOAG (re TAPPING) Was that a "b"? Dit-dot-dot-dot? PAPPY I didn't hear a "b". SONAR #1 Dit-dot. "A". Thought I heard an "a". PAPPY That's not morse. Just some shit got caught up in the bow planes, now it's smacking up against -- HOAG "C". Did you hear a "c"? SONAR #1 Dot-dit-dot-dit. Definitely a "c". LOOMIS Hull sounds. You guys are gettin' lathered up about hull sounds. Now would somebody please tell us what the hell happened to Coors? HOAG "Back." B-a-c-k. STUMBO (to himself) He's "back"... LOOMIS WHERE'D YOU GET THE "K" FROM? KINGSLEY Dit-dot-dit. While you were talking. LOOMIS Hey, champ, you can stay out of this. And the rest of you jugheads can -- BRICE Enough already. (to repair team) In the wardroom, one minute. Keep your mouths shut until we debrief. Brice exits. The TAPPING FADES AWAY. LOOMIS There was no goddamn "k". INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM 20 minutes later. Still a sorry sight, Odell, Stumbo, and Weird Wally are finishing up with Brice and Loomis. BRICE And the fuel leak. It was repaired prior to.... STUMBO Guess so. Yeah, sure. Just about had it sewed up when...when... BRICE (to Loomis) So if weather's good, we surface tonight, run diesels topside while we charge the batteries. Keep pushing for the barn. ODELL (blinking) "The barn?" Our "barn?" Brice stands and leaves. Odell follows him right out the door... INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS ...and into the forward corridor, where Claire and Kingsley and a few anxious blueshirts wait. Suddenly everyone is following Brice toward the control room. ODELL Sir, southern ports of England couldn't be more than two days away. Mr. Kingsley here is a navigational officer -- he should know the area and -- KINGLSEY I know all the ports, the depths -- I know where the submarine nets are, the mine fields.... BRICE And have the R.A.F. bomb us? Because they mistook us for a hostile boat? INT. CONTROL ROOM - CONTINUOUS Brice ducks the doorway. With everyone still dogging his heels: KINGSLEY There are safety-corridors that we could use when -- BRICE Considered and rejected. Thank you. ODELL Mr. Brice, we've lost both periscopes and our main sonar -- we're blind and nearly deaf down here. The men are in a bad way, and two of our senior officers are now -- BRICE Welcome to the war, Odell. CLAIRE This has nothing to do with the war. The procession stops. Brice turns and glares. It's one thing for Odell to challenge Brice -- but not the female. Not the fucking Brillo pad and not in front of the crew. CLAIRE Just how much longer can we not say what we're all thinking? What, no one wants to be the first? Fine, allow me: This submarine is [haunted] -- Brice snaps up the 1MC and booms his voice around the boat: BRICE Now hear this. The loss of Lieutenant Coors is unfortunate but fails to affect our plans. It's daylight now, but I expect to surface at 1900 tonight, recharge the batteries, then proceed on base course back to Connecticut. That is all. He hooks the mike, steps back to Claire. BRICE If you can find the back door on this boat, you're free to leave any time. (to Odell) And if you can find in the regs where an ensign still working on his first can of Burma Shave sets the course, I'll gladly give you the conn. Until that time, I'd ask that you not say anything that might further agitate this crew. Or me. Odell opens his mouth to object but... BRICE Stay out of my way, Odell. INT. BATTERY ROOM CLOSE on a hydrometer filling with battery acid, giving a reading on specific gravity. It's turkey-baster technology. Zap is checking the charge on the batteries. As he moves on to the next gang, Chief takes a nervous glance at... The hydrogen monitor. The needle is crossing 10% -- the start of the red zone. INT. CONTROL ROOM Brice and Loomis work the chart table, plotting a heading. BRICE Not so bad. Just knock the nose around a bit, and we're back on base. Make it 2-8- 5. LOOMIS Right standard rudder. Make it 2-8-5, true. HELMSMAN 2-8-5, true. The helmsman rolls his wheel. Blowing a sigh, Loomis breaks out his yo-yo and starts doing tricks. CLOSE on the gyro-compass charting the course correction: "270... 280...290..." Loomis "walks the dog", making his yo-yo bottom out. He notices the taut string is leaning to one side of the boat. Leaning hard. LOOMIS You're over-steering, helmsman. HELMSMAN Yessir, just getting some...resistance from the rudder. He's struggling with the wheel. Loomis lends a hand, pulling with the helmsman. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY The rudder. Hard over. Not responding. INT. CONTROL ROOM CLOSE on the gyro-compass: "300...310...320..." Now Planesman #2 joins the tug-of-war. Jaws clench. Veins bulge. The wheel starts shuddering in their hands. BRICE (into 1MC) Chief of Boat to control room...Chief of Boat to control room... EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the Manta keeps coming about. INT. CONTROL ROOM As the vibration in the wheel grows, so does a POUNDING SOUND: Imagine the noise made by angry Zulu warriors trapped between the hulls of the sub and trying to break free with sledge hammers. Then double it. BRICE Awright, belay that, BELAY THAT! Not hearing, the three men hang onto the wheel for another bone- jarring moment, until... The rudder wheel shatters. Bakelite shrapnel sends everybody ducking for cover. The ZULU HAMMERS DIE. PLANESMAN #1 (a beat) Nasty shimmy. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY Now, smooth as silk, the rudder centers itself. INT. CONTROL ROOM HELMSMAN (amazed) Rudder amidships, sir. He looks to Brice. Brice looks to Chief. Chief, equally flummoxed, looks to the motormac which entered with him. MOTORMAC #1 (unconvincing) Some kinda hydraulic failure.... CHIEF Maybe the I-M-O pump, but never heard anything quite like -- LOOMIS Well, get on it, huh? Christ, musta overshot our heading by.... BRICE 170 degrees. He's looking at the gyro-compass, which is holding at "95." We get the uncanny feeling that the boat just made its own course- correction. INT. CREW MESS CLOSE on an anti-voodoo necklace being made. Carved-wood icons, scrimshaw bits, Cracker Jack prizes, and bird feathers are all strung on a wire by... Weird Wally. Other blueshirts are playing cribbage and cards, too stressed to sleep. Planesman #1 enters with news. PLANESMAN #1 (low) Rudder malfunction. And when we tried to shut down the props? No dice -- wouldn't respond. We're on a runaway boat, fellas. Now can anyone top that? HOAG Well, I had a strange thought. STUMBO Take a number. HOAG Yeah, but this one's really...creepshow stuff. Weird Wally perks up. Others tune in, too. HOAG What if...when we took on that Kraut ship ...we didn't sink them? What if...and I'm just battin' ideas around here, don't nobody get excited...what if they sank us? WEIRD WALLY (a beat) Oh, good twist. STUMBO I don't get it. HOAG Might explain how that dead Kraut talked to Stumpie, since, you see... STUMBO I don't get it. WEIRD WALLY (getting into it) And the controls...they froze up because ...they've rusted up...because we're actually on the bottom of the ocean. Flooded out. HOAG 'Course, not sure what all that pounding was about.... WEIRD WALLY Rescue divers. Pounding on the hull. Only they're too late. PLANESMAN #1 So everything we're doing -- playing cards, trying to make repairs -- maybe it's all happenin' in some kinda.... HOAG "Slop-world." STUMBO Shit. I get it. WEIRD WALLY Very good twist. PAPPY Hydrogen...CO2...ozone from the electrical shorts -- that's what we're breathin' right now, and it's makin' all you guys loopier than a roller coaster. We got mechanical problems. That's all. So what's new? Everyone falls quiet. For a beat. WEIRD WALLY 'Course, we haven't got any radio messages lately. PAPPY Sweet-and-sour Jesus. Hand me a pot to beat him with. HOAG When was the last one? Before or after the sinking? WEIRD WALLY Orders to pick up the Brits. PAPPY There you go. After. Now pinch this shit off, wouldja? That seems to settle it. For a beat. WEIRD WALLY 'Less it happened during the depth charging. HOAG Remember that one? Rolled right down our deck? "Maybe it wasn't a dud." INT. CONTROL ROOM Odell scans the control room: No other officers here. He grabs the map off the chart table and leaves. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM A curtain closes. The map opens, getting pressed to a wall. A lantern snaps on, illuminating the map and... ODELL So exactly how far from England are we? KINGSLEY Can I ask why you're asking. ODELL No. KINGSLEY Right. What's our heading? ODELL Zero-nine-five. KINGSLEY (getting to work) Looks like the last star-fix, here...and at this latitude, variation 'tween true north and magnetic north.... CLAIRE (to Odell) Looking for a back door, are we? ODELL Just in case this boat can't make it home. For whatever reason. CHIEF (O.S.) ...I-M-O pumps check out. But the rudder has a dedicated line all the way to the stern. If we can tap into that somewhere abaft, should regain our steering.... Odell shuts off the lantern. INTERCUT Odell, Claire, Kingsley listening in the dimmed cabin as... INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Brice, Loomis, Chief move forward in the boat. BRICE Where would you tap in? CHIEF After battery room. LOOMIS Little dicey, isn't it? Without venting first? CHIEF Just threading up new hydraulics. No welding. BRICE What are we at, anyway? CHIEF 13 percent, down in the -- LOOMIS 13 percent hydrogen? BRICE Keep your voice down. CHIEF Look, I don't know any other way to regain control of this boat. Do you? A beat. A decision. BRICE Make sure you're sealed off -- don't need a repeat of the Hindenburg here. And let's keep this quiet, huh? CHIEF You don't want the men to know? Subtly, Brice checks for listeners -- human or otherwise. BRICE Fewer the better. INT. CLAIRE'S STATEROOM CLAIRE (whispering) Like it's a bloody mechanical problem.... The FOOTSTEPS leave. Odell snaps the lantern back on. Kingsley returns to his calcs. WE TRACK WITH his pencil as it projects a heading across empty water. The graphite makes a long, lonely journey eastward until it reaches... A tangle of pencil-markings -- jagged course corrections and torpedo-attack notes. The Manta has been here before. KINGSLEY What is this? What happened here? HOLD on Odell's face. "Oh, shit." INT. CONTROL ROOM On their way to make repairs, Chief and Helmsman duck through the aft doorway, turn back to close the door. Stumbo and Weird Wally skim through at the last second, moving forward in the boat. The AIRTIGHT DOOR CLANGS SHUT. The lever locks. INT. GALLEY/CREW MESS - CONTINUOUS Above the door is a wheel marked "Air to Control Room." Chief cranks it closed. Heading aft, Chief and Helmsman pass the cribbage players... INT. CREW QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ...continue past 30 sleeping bodies... INT. ENGINE ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and enter here. Waiting for them, Pappy and Motormac #1 seal the doors on either end of the engine room. Chief notes Pappy's fish hanging from the pipes. PAPPY Guardian angelfish. (explaining) Took the second-place team trophy in the Army-Navy bowling tournament with that fish watching over me. Not arguing the point, Chief drops through the floor-hatch... INT. BATTERY ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and winces when he sees the hydrogen monitor at 15% -- pegged out at the end of the red zone. Is it even higher than it shows? For a moment he considers not doing this. CHIEF Awright, we take no chances, make no mistakes. This is the line we wanna tap. Rag your tools. INT. CONTROL ROOM LOOMIS (to Planesman #2) Grab some chow. I'll let you know when we're ready to surface. The planesman peels off. Loomis fills out watch-sheets as Odell enters with the map. ODELL 'Tenant? A word? LOOMIS One sec, champ. My watches are gettin' all -- ODELL Now, Mr. Loomis. INT. BATTERY ROOM CLOSE on a wrench uncoupling a hydraulic line. The head of the wrench is wrapped in a rag: No metal-on-metal contact in this witches' brew of an atmosphere. Chief and his team start bleeding the hydraulic rudder line. As the dark red fluid bleeds out... One of those HALF-HUMAN wails is heard. Not only did it seem to come from inside the boat, but it sounded positively wounded. MOTORMAC #1 That is a whale, isn't it? CHIEF What else would it be? INT. CONTROL ROOM The map is back on the table. Loomis listens as... ODELL ...now maybe it's just a coincidence...I know Coors wasn't too sure about his fix to begin with...but it sure seems like we're going right back to where we sunk the German ship. (half-beat) Where we lost Winters. INT. ENGINE ROOM - BATTERY ROOM HELMSMAN Hey, Pappy? "Second-place team trophy in the Army-Navy tournament...." Isn't that sorta like "last place?" Finished threading up the new controls: CHIEF Okay. Let's repressurize the line from this point aft -- see if we can't put the brakes on this little joyride once and for -- The ZULU HAMMERS return. Lights shut down. PAPPY I'll reset the buss. Pappy hustles forward. Helmsman grabs for a battle-lantern in the dark, fumbling it. When he picks it up, he fails to notice the shattered lens. Just as Pappy gets the forward door open... The aft door opens, too. HOAG Hey, Chief? You know we tripped out back -- Both bulkhead doors are open. CHIEF Shut that goddamn door before I shut it with your goddamn -- The helmsman switches on the broken lantern. EXTREMELY CLOSE on the carbon filament inside the lantern. Excited by the hydrogen, it flares like a just-struck match. INT. CONTROL ROOM The BOAT SHUDDERS. Not a lot. Just enough to be felt but overlooked as Loomis and Odell start to square off. LOOMIS What are you saying, Odell? It's not a coincidence? Somebody put us on this course? ODELL Just asking the question. LOOMIS Lemme ask one. Where were you when the rudder went over? Huh? (off Odell's baffled look) This course heads back to England -- and I've noticed you've had a hard-on for anything English. So where were you, Odell? Back of the boat, messin' with the rudder assembly? Or did you get some motormac to do it for -- ODELL That's so stupid I can't even -- LOOMIS Not as stupid as what you're thinkin'. I'm tired of this hoodoo horseshit. It's not what you think it is. It's not even remotely fucking possible, okay? Blood spatters the chart: Loomis hit the table so hard that he cracked the embedded gyro-compass and cut his fist. Odell just stares: Loomis -- the guy who eats nails for breakfast, the one guy who seemed iron-clad -- even he's showing cracks. Odell breaks the gaze as... Brice enters. He grabs a growler and cranks up "Engine Room." Getting no response, he switches to the 1MC. BRICE Engine room, how much longer? STATIC answers him. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR BRICE (O.S./1MC) After room, see the Chief in the engine room, ask him to respond. (a beat) After room? Sensing something wrong, Claire and Kingsley step out into the corridor. INT. CONTROL ROOM BRICE Mr. Hoag, report. (a beat) Crew quarters, report. (a beat) Anybody, pick up your 1MC. Claire and Kingsley enter and join everyone else in staring at... The 1MC speaker. HISSING. Heart revving, Odell moves to the aft door, looks through the three-inch porthole, sees only darkness beyond. He starts to throw the lever -- and catches himself. ODELL It's warm. Loomis pushes him aside, BANGS metal against the door. As they wait for a response.... Anxious REACTION SHOTS: We tally the faces on this side of the door -- Brice, Loomis, Odell, Claire, Kingsley, Stumbo, Weird Wally. That's it. Everyone else is on the "warm" side. BRICE Break out some lungs. INT. CREW MESS Utter blackness. The bulkhead door cracks open, spreading light into the room, revealing swirling smoke. Nothing else moves. INT. CONTROL ROOM Loomis and Brice beam battle-lanterns inside, but visibility is minimal. Odell is the first to put on a Momsem lung. Loomis grabs a second lung. Claire grabs a third. BRICE Two is enough. Everyone else stays. CLAIRE I don't see anyone else here with medical training. (off his stony look) What're you going to do? Put me off the boat? (to Odell) Let's go. She gets the respirator on. Behind them all, Weird Wally dons another anti-voodoo necklace. WEIRD WALLY "His intelligence getting the better of him, Wallace chose not to lead the mission this time...." INT. GALLEY/CREW MESS Loomis, Odell, Claire. They enter and keep low, trying to move below the densest smoke. Claire jumps when... The bulkhead DOOR CLUNKS SHUT behind her. Brice's face fills the porthole. Soon their sweeping lights find... The first body in the galley. A steward. They find a second body. Then a third and a fourth. Maybe a half-dozen casualties here, some playing cribbage even in death. Claire checks one of the steaming bodies. The flash-fire passed through here so fast that it didn't burn -- it seared, it suffocated. And bizarrely, it preserved. The three reach the next bulkhead door, the one leading to crew quarters. It's open -- and that gives a sick-in-gut feeling. Again, Loomis CLANKS METAL futilely. They step on through... INT. CREW QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ...and enter a charnel house: 30 more lie dead in here, most still in their bunks, frozen in time like victims of Pompeii. Light-beams pick out the grim details: The hamster still on its wheel... A roll of Lifesavers still clutched in a smoldering hand... Photographs of sweethearts, charred but intact, like negative prints now... Dog tags fused into someone's chest skin... An untouched locker, "Fire Equipment Inside." Stepping over the few men who escaped their bunks, Odell and Claire continue on. Lagging behind, Loomis catches movement out of the corner of his vision. He whips a light on... A sooty mirror. The light reveals his own veiled form. Under other circumstances, Loomis might laugh at himself. But now he notices that... His reflection is out of synch with his movements. Loomis rubs his worried head -- then watches himself do it again in the mirror. "What the fuck is going on? Oxygen deprivation?" ODELL Loomis? 'Smatter? LOOMIS Change out my scrub.... He motions them on, starts swapping out the vial in his mask that holds the oxygen-scrubbing chemicals. INT. ENGINE ROOM Odell and Claire push open the engine room door and reach Ground Zero. There's nothing remotely alive, including... Pappy's lucky fish. Boiled alive in its bowl. Blue light strobes dangerously from an unseen source. Suspecting the worst, Odell starts clearing charred bodies from the hatch area of the battery room. As he does... Claire hears a METALLIC SOUND. Is it tapping? She moves deeper into the engine room as... Odell lowers himself through the hatch... INT. BATTERY ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and sees an indoor lightning storm: The great batteries are discharging erratically, sending tongues of blue fire licking across the room. INT. ENGINE ROOM The sound Claire hunts becomes a FEEBLE TAPPING. Her light finds... A hand clutching a tool. The light jumps to a blackened face. It's Chief, crumpled in a corner, impossibly alive. CLAIRE Back here! (to Chief) Awright, we found you, we found you... how're the legs? Can you feels your toes? Anything at all? He touches her like a blind man, groping her face, her throat. CHIEF Don't try.... CLAIRE No, no, no, you're going to pull through.... CHIEF Don't try and stop me.... Alarms go off in Claire's head: Is that rusty-hinge voice really his? Is this really the Chief? She tries to remove his hand from her throat, but he won't release. CHIEF Especially you.... He goes lax. Only now can Claire pry the hand off her throat, and as she does... Another one grabs her shoulder. ODELL Clear out. Now. (no response) Batteries are still arcing. C'mon, Claire -- we could be next. Seeing only the dead Chief here, Odell jerks her away. INT. CREW QUARTERS Odell slams the door to the engine room, dogs it, hurries after Claire. They shoot past... Loomis. He watches them go, then readjusts his mask and steps back to the sooty mirror. Somehow it's vital to him -- to his sanity -- to understand what's going on with the man in the mirror. INT. CREW QUARTERS/CREW MESS Claire and Odell. Stumbling their way back, light-beams slashing over steaming corpses, falling and getting back up, disoriented in the dark, finally reaching the last bulkhead door and wrestling with the lever until... INT. CONTROL ROOM - CONTINUOUS It opens. They collapse into the control room. Claire's mouth- piece has long since fallen away, and now she just sits on the floor wheezing, unable to speak. BRICE What happened? Odell? ODELL Somethin'...somethin' kicked off the hydrogen and...and they're all...they're all.... KINGSLEY "They're all?" BRICE MR. LOOMIS? INT. CREW QUARTERS He's testing the sooty mirror: The strange time-delay is gone now. Just to reassure himself, Loomis reaches out to wipe the mirror clean. MAN-IN-THE-MIRROR POV: We're inside the mirror looking out at Loomis as he clears a swath. Suddenly his mouth gashes open. Horror stretches his face. Winters is staring back at him. INT. CONTROL ROOM Brice beams a light through the doorway just as... Loomis erupts into the control room, bowling Brice over. LOOMIS Outta here...outta here...gotta get the hell outta here.... BRICE Loomis! Get back here! Stumbo and Weird Wally grab him, trying to calm him. But Loomis, bull-strong, tears free and keeps going. Stumbo winds up with his Momsem lung. LOOMIS WE GOTTA GET OFF THIS BOAT! INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Loomis careens past. Brice is steps behind. BRICE Loomis! There's nowhere to go! Loomis ducks into the forward torpedo room. Just as Brice gets there... The DOOR WHUMPS SHUT in his face. The lever locks. Brice, Stumbo, Weird Wally grapple with the door, SHOUTING, SWEARING, fighting to undog it. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM - CONTINUOUS The door opens. The last six -- Brice, Stumbo, Weird Wally, Odell, Kingsley, and Claire -- funnel inside to find... Loomis gone. There's absolutely no sign of him except for... His yo-yo. It swings like a pendulum right below the closed escape trunk. The other end is inside. Brice checks a water-level gauge. It's topping out. Stumbo looks at the Momsem lung he still holds. Loomis'. STUMBO (stunned) Did he...even have.... KA-THUNK! An unseen hatch opens somewhere on the boat. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY With CAMERA behind the bridge, we see Loomis rise up out of the escape hatch -- without a lung. He tries swimming for the surface, but that lasts only as long as his one breath of air. The forward momentum of the boat brings him closer...closer...and by the time he snags on the mangled periscopes right in front of us, he's more dead than alive. There Loomis flutters, a new flag for the Manta. INT. FORWARD TORPEDO ROOM Everyone is rooted in shock -- until the boat jolts and the torpedo room tilts to starboard. It brings an O.S. THUMPING AND BANGING. What now? INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS Everyone back-tracks to find... Clothes, books, photographs -- all of Brice's stuff littering the corridor. Was it thrown here when the boat jolted? BED COILS STRAIN behind the closed curtain of Brice's cabin. A DISEMBODIED SIGH follows. If we didn't know better, we'd swear someone just went down for a much-needed nap. Brice doesn't seem eager to do it, so Odell reaches out with quaking hand to draw back the curtain. And just as we get a sliver-glimpse inside... The lights shut down in the forward section. The entire boat has gone dark. And all anyone sees now is... The glistening of terrified eyeballs. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - DAY As the Manta, listing to starboard, journeys on. FADE OUT INT. CONTROL ROOM (NOTE: The remainder of interior scenes will be lit by just gauge lights and battle-lanterns.) Odell and Weird Wally are trying to free the air-ballast controls. They pull on a lever from above while Stumbo, on his back, muscles the linkage from below. Claire and Kingsley shed light. ODELL Try again. One, two, three. STUMBO C'mon you tight bitch, give.... It won't budge. Odell slings something across the control room in frustration. ODELL What the hell is wrong here? (a miserable beat) If we could blow the main, get to the surface...but I don't know how to fix this friggin' stuff.... It all hits Odell now -- the confinement, the dark, the deaths. He points his light down so nobody can see his eyes puddling up. CLAIRE Even if you could -- the real problem wouldn't be fixed, would it? KINGLSEY I think it's time we were told about "Old Man Winters." Everything. ODELL (to Weird Wally, Stumbo) Keep trying, huh? Stumbo grumbles, rattles through a tool box. Odell pans a light around. Brice isn't here. ODELL (low) All I know is what Coors told me...that Winters wanted to shoot the German survivors, shoot them right there in the water. Brice, Loomis, Coors -- they wanted to help. Apparently Winters lost the argument. If a submarine can SHUDDER, that's what the Manta does now, listing a few more degrees starboard. ODELL And I'm just repeating. CLAIRE Well, I count two versions of the story. How many more do you suppose there are? INT. GALLEY/CREW MESS ODELL Mr. Brice? Lights probe the burned-out section. Claire and Kingsley trail Odell in. Claire needs a Momsem lung to breathe back here. ODELL Lieutenant? KINGSLEY Certain he went back here? Here? BRICE (O.S.) Looking for me? Lights jump to a table, finding Brice seated and working on something we can't quite see. Evicted from the forward part of the boat, he's taken up residence back here with the steaming dead. ODELL (off-balance) Just, uh, reporting that we haven't been able to repair the electrical. Heating's down, too. Ballast levers are inoperable, probably jammed during the depth-charging, Stumbo's working on it now. We show 90 pounds of compressed air left in the 600- pound system, and I'm wondering if we should save that for when we try and surface -- or use it now to breathe. BRICE Shinola.... ODELL Sir? BRICE Running out of Shinola, too. He brings a rag and a shoe above-table. And now we realize: In the dark, on a runaway submarine, the C.O. is waxing his shoes. It's an attempt to impose normalcy on his life. CLAIRE We also came to ask about Commander Winters. (a beat) If there's anything else you want to tell us about that night...something that may help us understand...why. ODELL (a beat) Sir, do you have any idea why this boat seems to be going back to where the skipper died? When he finally looks up, Brice looks at Claire. BRICE Don't pretend you don't know. Just don't pretend anymore. He goes back to his shoes. INT. CONTROL ROOM KINGSLEY Well, wasn't that awkward. They re-enter the control room, wrapping up in blankets and jackets as they go. It's getting numbingly cold in here. Condensation is icing up on walls. STUMBO (O.S.) Maybe Hoag was right...maybe we already bought it.... It takes a moment to find Stumbo: He's curled up on the floor by the ballast levers, shivering. STUMBO If not the depth charge, then the hydrogen ...if not the hydrogen, then maybe the cold...if not that, then we got Heap Big Evil Spirit battin' clean-up. Too many. I mean, shit, there should only be so many ways a guy can die. Ain't fair.... Odell kneels. ODELL Stumbo, CO2 hangs low -- it's working its way from the floor up. Gotta stay on your feet. STUMBO Maybe we're just gonna die over and over again.... ODELL Stumbo. I need you to keep workin' on the ballast controls. We need them to surface, okay? STUMBO ...stuck in some vicious "slop-world" cycle.... Claire touches Odell's shoulder. "Let me try." She kneels and, with her best bedside manner, smacks him across the face. CLAIRE Feel that? STUMBO You fucking whore! CLAIRE Then you're still alive, aren't you? Incensed, Stumbo gets up and goes for her. Odell and Kinglsey wedge in. KINGSLEY Easy, lads.... ODELL Hey, hey, maybe there's some kinda... pulley or wench, or.... Isn't there a come-along in the forward room? Can't we use that? STUMBO (still eyeing Claire) Yeah, but.... KINGSLEY Let's go, Stumbo. We'll do it together. Kinglsey coaxes Stumbo away. Odell turns to Claire. ODELL So tell me why. Tell me why these three officers would kill their skipper and conspire to cover it up. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? CLAIRE If I am, I see I'm not alone. ODELL Loomis was up for a major citation, okay? Brice was in line for his own command, Annapolis, naval family...Coors had this Irish girl up in Boston, they were talkin' about.... These guys had everything to live for, Claire. CLAIRE By that thinking, had everything to lose, too. ODELL "Why." I haven't head "why." She shakes her head and looks back in Brice's direction. CLAIRE "Don't pretend you don't know." What the hell could he have.... (a beat) Are we missing somebody? Their lights sweep. ODELL Wallace? (into 1MC) Wallace, sound off. The only answer is CREEPY SILENCE. Now they notice... Light coming from the ship's office. Odell and Claire ease closer to find... INT. SHIP'S OFFICE/CONTROL ROOM - CONTINUOUS Weird Wally. He's sitting in his chair, head dipped, open pulp in his lap. ODELL Wallace? Still no answer. We get an itchy feeling this is one of those he- looks-alive-but-he's-really-dead moments. Odell reaches out to touched Weird Wally... And he jumps in his chair. Odell and Claire jump in their skins. Weird Wally removes headphones that he's using as earmuffs. His chest bristles with amulets and totems, his tiny office is adangle with charms and talismans. All that's missing is the "Voodooville" sign. WEIRD WALLY I am trying to read here. ODELL Look, running out of plays in the playbook. If you have any ideas on how to get control of this boat.... WEIRD WALLY "They scoffed at him...tried to silence him...yet in their most dire hour, they turned to Wallace for understanding...." (indicating a stack of pulps) I've been checking the literature on the subject, and the thing we know about maledictions is -- CLAIRE "Maledictions?" WEIRD WALLY Look it up. "Maledictions" don't issue from heaven or hell, but some unresolved place in between. (flipping pages) In fact, there's a great description of it in "The Natives of Netherworld," a novella by Pierce Milestone which opens in -- ODELL Wallace? We're running out of air. WEIRD WALLY Suffice to say, the malediction needs satisfaction in order to escape its netherworld. ODELL And if you had to guess what would satisfy our "malediction".... WEIRD WALLY I thought it was obvious. (off their blank faces) Old Man Winters never got a chance to go down with his ship. Did he? Looks. "He's taking us back to sink us?" Without warning, Claire slides bonelessly down the wall, hand to her chest. Odell knows what it is: The canary in their coal mine just fell off its perch. ODELL Okay, okay, I'm gonna take care of it right now. CLAIRE Don't.... ODELL Just bleed a little air into the control room, just enough to -- CLAIRE Need it to surface...said so yourself.... ODELL I don't know how much we need. But we'll die down here if we don't do something soon. And you'll be the first, Claire. CLAIRE Just let me...please, let me have.... She sucks on her Momsem lung. Odell's lantern dims. He tries to smack it back to life, but it dies in his hands. It's all going wrong. Everything. ODELL (to Weird Wally) Keep watch. If she gets any worse, find me. He touches her head gently, wishing he had magical healing powers, then leaves to find more light. Weird Wally hitches closer to Claire. She notes the tangle of religious artifacts on his chest. Trying gamely to sound better: CLAIRE [I] gather you're religious.... He fingers a Star of David, a Muslim Crescent, a fat-bellied Buddha -- and a Latin cross -- before shaking his head. WEIRD WALLY Just in case he is. Almost smiling, Claire lets here eyes drift closed. MEMORY HIT: Of another cross. The one scribbled in the patrol log. Her eyes snap back open. Now it means something to her. INT. FORWARD CORRIDOR Darkness. Alone, Claire steps into the corridor set at a drunken angle. She takes a hit of air from her lung -- and that's it, no more. Now she just listens. Soon a WET, METHODIC BREATHING becomes audible. It's the kind of sound a submarine might make on its own -- but it's also the sound a drowning victim might make if he returned from the dead. Claire flicks off her lantern and aims it ahead at... The skipper's cabin. Is "he" asleep? Steeling herself, Claire approaches... INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM - CONTINUOUS ...and eases the curtain open. The BREATHING IS LOUDER here. Her light checks the bunk. Empty. "Well, what did I expect?" The light flits to the desk -- and finds the patrol log. Claire moves inside and opens the log. There it is again -- the cross. Apparently it means something to Brice, too. Claire finds his latest entry and reads. BRICE (V.O.) 2230: Sight target believed to be German cruiser. Winters orders flank speed to close target and gain a firing angle... INT. CONNING TOWER - FLASHBACKS We see QUICK VISUALS to support the voice-over: The men in the tower working fast and feverish. Taking periscope glimpses. Scribbling on charts. Feeding data into the TDC. BRICE (V.O.) 2315: Loomis checks target profile against I.D. log, matching it to Berlin class. I personally verify match. We see Loomis and Brice consulting a ship I.D. log, concurring on a silhouette. BRICE (V.O.) 2320: Single torpedo fired from #4 tube. Heard the strike, followed by collapsing bulkheads. We see Coors smacking the "fire" button. A stop-watch running. Tense faces waiting. Soon the MUFFLED STRIKE. BRICE (V.O.) 2330: We surface to confirm sinking. Four officers go topside -- Commander Winters, myself, Lt. Loomis, and Lt. j.g. Steven Coors.... We seen an overhead HATCH CRACKING open. On that sound, we CUT BACK to... INT. SKIPPER'S STATEROOM An INKWELL BREAKING on the floor. Claire just knocked it off the desk. Her breathing stops just as... The other BREATHING STOPS. BED COILS GROAN. Dreading it, Claire puts her light on... The bunk. Motionless. But the bedcovers have moved. Haven't they? After a small forever, the other BREATHING RESUMES. Claire takes the patrol log and backs out of the room. INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM RAPID-FIRE SHOTS of Claire's hands opening two books, rifling through page after page of ship silhouettes. Her fingers tremble from cold and fright, but they manage to tear out two pages. Behind the drawn curtain of the wardroom, Claire overlays the two pages and puts a light behind them. The two silhouettes line up almost perfectly. Her mind reels. Now we see the books she's torn from: One is the "AXIS IDENTIFICATION LOG." The other, "ALLIED IDENTIFICATION LOG." Claire makes a move to leave but... The BUNK SQUEAKS across the corridor. HEAVY FEET hit the floor. Nap time's over. Now she hears a CURTAIN OPENING and FOOTSTEPS THUMPING out. The fabric of Claire's curtain ripples as something passes on the other side. Then it's gone. Just as Claire's heart starts up again, the FOOTSTEPS DOUBLE BACK to her. CLOSE on the curtain-rings. Starting to move. Claire backs into a dark corner and shuts off her light as... The curtain opens. He's standing right there. ODELL Claire? What're you doing in here? INT. CONTROL ROOM Stumbo and Kingsley have retrieved the come-along wench. They start hooking chains into the frozen ballast controls. INT. OFFICERS' WARDROOM START on the two ship silhouettes, overlapped and backlit. Claire is showing Odell the similarity. Wasting as little breath as possible: CLAIRE German cruiser, Berlin class...type Brice said you sunk...and my ship...Fort James. We can almost see Odell's brain trying to catch up to his eyes and ears. ODELL Are you telling me...that the German submarine Kingsley saw.... CLAIRE Wasn't. Time stands still. ODELL But it was an accident. CLAIRE Not leaving us in the water to die. They had to hear the calls for help. In English. ODELL And you think that Winters would actually just.... Or do you think that he wanted to pick up survivors...and that maybe it was... CLAIRE Who mis-i.d.'d the ship? Who had everything to lose? INT. CREW HEAD As Brice just shaves in the dark. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT As the Manta's props shut down. INT. CONTROL ROOM An UNNERVING QUIET overtakes the boat. Stumbo puts a light on the telegraphs: Both show "STANDARD" speed. The boat should be moving -- but it's not. CLOSE on the bathy-thermograph: The stylus has bottomed out. It's like it just dropped dead. Kingsley sweeps an arm across the chart table for a clear view of the map. A coffee cup gets knocked over and... A block of ice-coffee tumbles out. That's how cold it is now. Odell and Claire enter. STUMBO Either batteries finally crapped out, or.... WEIRD WALLY Or we're here. ODELL Let's use that air! They attack the come-along, cranking the handle, taking up slack in the chains. As they do... EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT The Manta starts going nose-down. The depth-charge rolls off the deck. INT. CONTROL ROOM The control room tilts forward. Anything not bolted down starts moving. Sliding. Tumbling. Including... Claire. Odell grabs her. STUMBO Oh, fuck me, this is it! WEIRD WALLY I hate being right. ODELL Keep cranking, keep cranking! The chains go taut, but the ballast levers still resist. We can actually hear METAL LINKS STRETCHING. Suddenly... The main ballast lever collapses, snapping off... ...tomahawking across the control room... ...and smashing gauges next to Stumbo. It could've been his head. But did that do it? Did the lever throw before it snapped? HULL- CRACKING SOUNDS as the outside pressure changes. STUMBO Goin' down! He's gonna take us all down! Odell lurches to the depth gauge, still hanging by its wires. The needle is dropping. ODELL No. No, no, no.... The gauge is hanging upside-down. He rights it -- and sees the needle rising. ODELL It's working. EXT. MANTA - UNDERWATER - NIGHT As the Manta spirals ass-first toward the surface. INT. CONTROL ROOM STUMBO JUST LIKE I SAID! WE'RE RISING, WE'RE RISING! INT. CREW HEAD JAGS OF RELIEF from the O.S. control room. Brice hears the ruckus -- and just towels off his baby-smooth face. EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALLS - NIGHT Props first, the Manta erupts out of the ocean. INT. CONTROL ROOM Everyone holds on tight as the control room rocks back, leveling off. INT. CREW HEAD Brice is buttoning up a fresh shirt when the boat levels. Something slides off a shelf, and he catches it just before it hits the floor. It's the pistol. INT. CONTROL ROOM The BOAT GOES QUIET again. The depth gauge is zeroed out. Odell instinctively waits for orders -- then realizes. ODELL All right. Okay. We do this fast. Stumbo, see if we can drain the tower. If we can't get out that way, we use the forward trunk. Wallace, see about raising the radio mast for a distress call. Stumbo and Odell attack the tower hatch. Weird Wally starts for the radio shack, but notices... The radar screen hazing to life. WEIRD WALLY Hey.... (no one hears) Hey, guys.... (no one hears) We have contact on SJ radar! 4,000 yards starboard bow! There's a blip closing on them. EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALLS - NIGHT As the radar antenna sweeps. INT. CONTROL ROOM Crowding the radar screen: ODELL Lemme see, lemme see.... STUMBO Same contact? Same German cruiser? KINGSLEY If we're back in the shipping lanes, could be a merchantman. Could be British. It's impossible to tell. ODELL Wallace, raise the mast, issue a radio challenge on the RAL-6. Get that ship to i.d. itself before.... He stops himself, seeing... Shined shoes. Crisp khakis. Perfect Windsor knot in a black tie. And the pistol, holstered. BRICE Well done, Mr. Odell. But I'm feeling much better now. A beat. No one speaks. BRICE You were saying? ODELL We have a contact. And maybe an opportunity. BRICE "An opportunity...." ODELL To abandon ship. Brice frowns at the radar screen. BRICE I don't know that's a friendly out there. Just because you hope it is, doesn't make it so. And if it is a hostile -- ODELL I think it's better to scuttle and take our chances with a surface vessel, any surface vessel, rather than -- BRICE And tell Connecticut what? Hmmm? That we scuttled a fleet submarine because we lost a few men carrying out our mission? STUMBO "Few men?" Lieutenant.... BRICE That we panicked? Lost our heads? Hmmm? That a handful of people disagreed with their superior officer, ignored the chain- of-command, and took matters into their own...their own hands.... He stops himself. Claire and Odell touch eyes. "Did he just come close to confessing?" CLAIRE We have a chance, maybe one, to get off this sewer pipe you call a "boat," and we need to take it. Now. BRICE We'll wait right here. He unholsters the pistol. An electrified beat. WEIRD WALLY Seeing as how there's a lull in the conversation...contact at 2,500 yards. Might cross astern. ODELL Mr. Wallace. No matter what Mr. Brice says, I want you to go to the radio shack and establish voice contact with that -- BRICE Belay that, Wallace! You are not the skipper here, Mr. Odell! ODELL And neither are you, sir! Brice cracks his mouth with the pistol. Odell goes down like lead. Brice walks over him, pivots to the radio shack... INT. RADIO SHACK - CONTINUOUS ...and BLOWS THE SHIT out of the radio gear. INT. CONTROL ROOM - CONTINUOUS Brice reloads. Consults the radar screen. Sees the blip at 2,000 yards. Hears A SHIMMERING SOUND on the hull. BRICE Rain squall. Little luck, he won't see us in all this [weather].... He sees one light toggle red on the "Christmas tree." One hatch just opened somewhere on the boat. Brice does a quick head-count. All the men are here. All the men. EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALL - NIGHT The forward escape hatch is open. CAMERA SWINGS UP to find... Claire. Lying on the deck. Taking deep life-renewing breaths. Spending a few precious seconds before getting up and making her way aft in the downpour. Praying she's in time for... The ship. Is that it? Those lights? Claire sweeps a battle-lantern back and forth, YELLING HERSELF HOARSE, stopping only when... Gun metal touches her neck. BRICE It's really not safe up here, Miss Paige. INT. CONTROL ROOM CLOSE on the radar. Odell's mouth-blood is pattering the screen. The blip is at 1,200 yards. ODELL Stumpie, Wallace, with me. They grab lanterns and charge aft. EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALLS - NIGHT Topside, Claire hasn't moved. She just keeps her eyes -- and lantern -- trained on the coming lights. BRICE We're going below now. Still she doesn't move. Brice grabs her by the scruff and tosses her forward, sending the lantern skittering away. Claire steadies herself on cabling. CLAIRE Bury everybody and bury the truth! Is that it, Brice? BRICE Time to go. Claire moves right back to him -- and lets the pistol touch the front of her neck. CLAIRE Like this. This is how I go. Brice tries to back up and get separation. She matches him step for step in a danse macabre, clutching his gun hand now, keeping the pistol to her own throat. CLAIRE If that's your plan, get on with it. Because I am done being scared. (a beat) GET ON WITH IT, YOU FUCKING COWARD! INT. AFT TORPEDO ROOM CLOSE on keys being torn off a dead man's neck. CLOSE on a key opening the armory locker. Weapons and munitions tumble to the floor. One box is stenciled "M-55 SIGNAL PROJECTILES." ODELL Know how these work? STUMBO Mortar tubes in both torpedo rooms, but I've never -- ODELL Try. Odell grabs a semi-auto rifle and arrows away. INT. CONTROL ROOM On his own now, Odell races back through the control room, passing... KINGSLEY (reading radar) 800 yards! It'll be a close shave! EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALLS - NIGHT Brice twists free of Claire's grasp. He always did have trouble meeting her eyes, and when he looks away now, he finds himself staring at... Loomis. Still hanging from the gnarled periscopes. BRICE (parroting Loomis) "Just leave." "They'll blame it on a U- boat." "Just get outta here and they'll never fucking know...CHAMP!" He PUMPS A FEW ROUNDS into Loomis' corpse. It's misplaced rage, and Brice realizes it. Now it all drains out of him. He slumps against the deck gun. BRICE Kept looking for some way...to take it back...make it end right...some way without dishonoring Winters, but...I was going to wear this uniform back to port and now [it's ruined].... (wretchedly) What should I do, Miss Paige? Claire doesn't need to look at the ship anymore: She can hear the BIG DIESELS bearing down. CLAIRE You let me have the light. You let me signal for help. Brice shakes his head. "I don't know...I just don't know...." CLAIRE That's the right ending. On the other side of the tower, Odell claws his way topside. He takes a precious second to check the load on his weapon. Brice picks up the lantern. Checks to make sure it's still working. Thinks. Walks it back to Claire as if there were all the time in the world. Odell arrives in time to catch... Claire and Brice facing off. Behind them is a moving, THUNDERING WALL of steel: The ship is passing the Manta right fucking now. Claire has her hands out for the lantern: "Please...." BRICE Finally figured out why he didn't kill me, too.... (like it's the secret of life) He didn't have to. Brice slings the lantern overboard... CLAIRE NO! ...and EMPTIES THE CLIP into his brain. Odell. Shocked senseless. Claire. Spiraling away but looking back to see... Brice. Staring at her as he falls overboard. The last thing we saw on his face wasn't pain. It was relief. The ship. Stern sweeping into view. On its rear deck... A British flag. Claire. SCREAMING HER ANGUISH. Realizing the ship never saw the Manta. Realizing it's... Vanishing. Being swallowed by the rain. Odell charges aft, FIRING HIS WEAPON as he runs, waving his light, trying anything to get the ship's attention. It powers past, oblivious. Claire slumps against a deck-pipe. CLAIRE Dear God, it didn't see us.... White-hot FLAME HISSES out of the deck-pipe... ...snakes up into the night sky... ...and DETONATES. Red light illuminates... The British ship. Almost out of range. But visible for another moment or two. Odell gives a FRENZIED WAR CRY and stomps the deck, trying to be heard in the torpedo room underfoot. ODELL Again, Stumbo! Again! INT. AFT TORPEDO ROOM As Stumbo rams another M-55 into the mortar tube. EXT. MANTA - RAIN SQUALLS - NIGHT A second FLARE HISSES out of the deck-pipe... And BLOWS overhead. The ship. Still there. Barely. A third flare launches and BLOWS. As its light fades, it's replaced in the sky by... A YELLOW FLARE suspended by a parachute. It came from the British ship. Suddenly standing in a world of golden rain, Claire laughs and cries and loses her footing. Odell catches her before she hits the deck -- and sees no reason to let go. Weird Wally and Kingsley appear, armed and primed for action. But they uncoil when they see... No Brice. Just Odell and Claire holding each other. Stumbo stumbles topside. ODELL They saw. British freighter. They saw and they acknowledged. All five survivors huddle together, steadying one another, forming a human atoll on the rolling deck of the Manta. Claire finds herself arms-locked with Stumbo. In his face we see grudging respect. STUMBO Weren't the first woman that ever slapped me -- and won't be the last. But well done, Miss Paige. CLAIRE Well done, Mr. Stumbo. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. BRITISH SHIP - PRE-DAWN/DAWN The rain is easing. Morning is a promise on the horizon. Claire, Kingsley, Stumbo, and Weird Wally are being tended to on the deck of the rescue ship, hot liquids and blankets dispensed. Removed from the others, Odell is joined by... BRITISH CAPTAIN Thought I'd turn the 4-inch guns on your boat, help you scuttle her. But looks like someone beat me to it. He motions to... The Manta. 100 yards off, it's starting to bubble under. Odell nods vacantly. "Looks that way." The British captain leaves as Claire approaches. She watches side-by-side with Odell as sunlight breaks over the Manta. Its stern is rising for the last time. ODELL So what would you say? If you were the one who had to go back and explain it all? CLAIRE (feeling sunlight on her face) Seems unlikely, doesn't it? Now. ODELL Have you considered it? That maybe when Winters died, he just died? Period? And the rest of it...I mean, the kind of air we were breathing...does things to your brain. CLAIRE You say what you have to say, ensign. But I'll always know what happened down there. Off their shared look, CUT TO: EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY Nose first, the Manta does a downward death-spiral. It leads us to... A shipwreck, perched on an undersea ledge. HOLD here as the Manta continues into the depths. The shipwreck is a torpedo-ripped hulk -- yet we can still make out the white cross painted on its flank. This was a hospital ship. This was the Fort James. FADE OUT