NYPD Red

Chapter 85





EXT. HUDSON RIVER—NEW YORK CITY—DUSK


Helicopter shot of SHELLEY TRAGER’s yacht as it sails quietly up the river. And there in the background, we see her, standing tall and proud as the sun sets—THE STATUE OF LIBERTY.

MUSIC UP: We hear THE RAT-A-TAT-TAT OF SNARE DRUMS, followed by HORNS, and then the track is filled with the unmistakable sound of the Greatest Musical Genius of All Time—THE LATE, GREAT RAY CHARLES, singing the best f*cking version of AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL ever recorded.



RAY CHARLES (SOUND TRACK)





O beautiful, for heroes proved,

In liberating strife,

Who more than self, their country loved,

And mercy more than life.



The camera drifts in on the yacht, and we see a ramp slowly being lowered from the stern like a giant tailgate. As we move in closer, we see The Chameleon as he prepares to get off the moving ship.



RAY CHARLES

America, America,

May God thy gold refine,

Till all success be nobleness

And every gain divine.



The camera is in tight now as The Chameleon unties one of two Zodiac Bayrunners, a fifteen-foot pontoon boat Trager uses when he anchors offshore.



RAY CHARLES





O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,



The Chameleon slides one Zodiac off the ramp and into the water. He jumps in and starts it.



RAY CHARLES





For purple mountain majesties,

Above the fruited plain.



The Zodiac slowly edges away from the yacht.



RAY CHARLES



America, America,

God shed his grace on thee.



Long shot as we see the Zodiac separating even farther from the doomed yacht.



RAY CHARLES



He crowned thy good,

In brotherhood,

From sea to shining sea.



Cut to a close-up of Lady Liberty as she looks down approvingly on the scene below.



RAY CHARLES



You know, I wish I had

somebody to help me sing this.



The CHORUS joins in, and now the music and the emotion build.



CHORUS



America, America,



RAY CHARLES





America, I love you, America



CHORUS



God shed his grace on thee.



Cut to a close-up of The Chameleon as he removes his CELL PHONE from his pocket.



RAY CHARLES



God shed his grace on thee.



Cut to a wide shot. Slowly the Zodiac slips out of the picture.



RAY CHARLES



He crowned thy good,

With brotherhood,



Cut to a close-up as The Chameleon dials his phone.



RAY CHARLES



From sea to shining sea.



Cut to a wide shot. The Statue of Liberty, a powerful beacon of freedom, is dominating the frame. The yacht, a symbol of greed, money, and injustice, looks insignificant in her presence.



CHORUS (MAJESTIC FINISH)

…shining sea.



The sound track is filled with the thunder of timpani and the crash of cymbals as the music reaches a crescendo, and the yacht EXPLODES into a fiery hell.



“So…what do you think, Charles?” Gabriel asked, still kneeling at Connor’s side.

“I knew you could get off the ship with one of the Zodiacs,” Connor said. “I just didn’t know you knew.”

Gabriel stood up and took a small bow. “Research. But I meant what do you think of the whole thing with the Statue of Liberty and ‘America the Beautiful’ playing counterpoint against a guy who’s blowing up a hundred people?”

“I’d like it a lot better if I wasn’t one of the hundred.”

“Charles, you asked me if you could read it. I broke a rule and showed it to you. The least you could do is subtract your personal conflict of interest and give me more of a professional opinion than ‘I don’t want to die.’”

“Okay,” Connor said. “Am I correct in assuming you had something to do with the bomb that killed Brad Schuck at Radio City?”

“I had everything to do with it.”

“I saw the video. Nice. The blast, getting away from the cops—that worked. But your script reads like Amateur Night. The Statue of Liberty is ‘a beacon of freedom’? The yacht is ‘a symbol of greed, money, and injustice’? It’s like you got the big box of clichés and you’re trying to use them all.”

“It’s stage direction,” Gabriel said. “The audience never sees it. It’s only there to help the producer understand what the writer is thinking about.”

“And it reads like you either think the producer is stupid, or you’re so insecure that you have to spell out the message for him, or you can’t decide if it’s a popcorn movie with bombs going off and bodies piling up or an art house film condemning the evils of Hollywood.”

“Wow, you got some balls,” Gabriel said. “I’d have bet anything you’d suck up to me and try to get me to turn you loose.”

“That’s not who you are. You can smell a phony a mile away. The only way to deal with you is to give it to you straight.”

“Thanks. I said this from the get-go. You’re my kind of guy. Another time, another set of circumstances, we’d be best buds. And Lexi—she would’ve just adored you.”

“But you’re still going to kill me.”

“Charles, we’ve gone over this before. I’ve been flexible shooting this film, but this is a critical scene. I can’t undo the script. My hands are tied.”

“Actually, it’s my hands that are tied, but let’s not split hairs.”

Gabriel smiled and tucked the script pages in his pocket. “I will never forget you, Charles Connor.”

“Likewise,” Connor said. “Just answer me one last question.”

“Anything.”

“Your alter ego in the film is The Chameleon. What’s your real name?”

“Gabriel. Gabriel Benoit. Why do you ask?”

“Because one of these days you’re going to go straight to hell, Gabriel. And I want to be able to track you down as soon as you show up and beat the shit out of you for all eternity.”