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2

FADE IN:

TITLE SEQUENCE -- MONTAGE: Run opening title and credits on grainy old black & white newsreel footage of Nazis conquering Europe...

Stukas dive bombing. Tanks rolling. Big guns blasting in the night. Jackboots marching.

Big, bold Swastika consuming Europe. And then...

The fall of France. German troops parading through the streets of Paris. Hitler entering the railway car at Compiegne. Receiving the French surrender. Visiting the Eiffel Tower.

Finally the Louvre. Priceless paintings being removed from the walls. Manets, Monets, Pisarros...

Wooden crates with Nazi swastikas and the names of the artists being loaded onto trucks: Degas, Van Gogh, etc...

...then onto a train...as it leaves the Paris station the last credit plays and we're at...

EXT. AERIAL VIEW OF BERLIN, GERMANY - DAY (THE PRESENT)

High above the German capital city, spiraling down as:

SUPER: BERLIN, GERMANY - TODAY

EXT. SMALL ART GALLERY, BERLIN - CONTINUOUS

A taxi pulls up in front and a MAN gets out. Hands money through the Driver's window and heads inside...

This is DANIEL GRANT. American. Tall, lean, a bit unkempt. Full beard, horn-rimmed glasses, crumpled old tweed jacket. All of which gives him a professorial look.

The only odd note is the knowing, street-wise glint in his eyes. Like a man who has seen far too much violence and duplicity in his life.

As he approaches the shop, he stops in front of the big plate-glass window, uncomfortable with what he sees --

3

There is a large photograph of Grant next to stacks of books...title of which is "THE DECLINE OF EUROPEAN ART: THE FRENCH IMPRESSIONISTS BY DR. DANIEL GRANT."

There is also a large placard in the window reading:

"SCIFF GALLERIES IS PROUD TO PRESENT

A PRESS RECEPTION IN HONOR OF DR. DANIEL GRANT'S BOOK: THE DECLINE OF EUROPEAN ART: THE FRENCH IMPRESSIONISTS BY DR. DANIEL GRANT

IN CONJUNCTION WITH AN EXHIBITION OF MODERN EUROPEAN ART

BY INVITATION ONLY"

A high murmur of conversation in various languages can be heard through the door of the gallery and the window --

He takes in the display -- sees the place is fairly crowded with people drinking and chatting -- heads reticently through the door and into --

INT. SMALL ART GALLERY, BERLIN - CONTINUOUS

DIETER SCHIFF, the gallery owner, stands in front of several impressionist canvases on the wall pointing them out to a WELL-DRESSED GUEST.

Schiff's in his mid-50's, stylish -- with great charm, but with hidden places.

SCHIFF These are, in fact, fine examples... note the bold brush strokes, open composi-tion, emphasis on light...

(spots Grant) Excuse me, there's our guest of honor...

He moves off to intercept Grant, who immediately picks up a glass of wine from a passing WAITER and downs it all quickly --

He looks more than a little out of place, as though he has no use for this kind of thing at all --

SCHIFF (CONT'D)

4 Right on time as always.

GRANT Sorry, Dieter, sorry. But you know how I hate this dog-and-pony-show shit.

SCHIFF I wouldn't let Christina hear you say that. Not if you value your life.

Watching Grant is ERIK KRIETSCHMANN. Reporter, 30's, intense. Looks nervous, on edge -- starts forward to speak with Grant --

KRIETSCHMANN Herr, Grant...

Only -- CHRISTINA SCHNEIDER comes swooping in on Grant out of the crowd and collars him. She's mid-30's, smoothly attractive and all business.

CHRISTINA You're late.

GRANT Sorry, traffic was a bitch.

CHRISTINA Don't bullshit me, Daniel. Now get out there and mingle. I didn't arrange all of this for my health, you know.

GRANT You didn't arrange it for mine, either.

She takes him by the arm and drags him into the crowd...

EXT. BERLIN STREET - DAY - SAME TIME

A battered old VW Beetle is cutting in and out of the traffic recklessly.

Windows open, uber-loud HEAD-BANGING ROCK MUSIC blasting from them. People actually turning to look.

I/E. KATJA'S VW - CONTINUOUS

5

Behind the wheel is KATJA PIERCE. American-German, 2Os, attractive in a wild child way. Intelligent, feisty.

Jet black hair streaked with blue. Tattoo of a lightning bolt on her neck. Heavy eye liner. Punk Rock clothing.

Texting wildly as she drives. Barely missing other cars by fractions.. Flying up on bumpers. Zipping around at the last moment.

Her car backfiring and puking smoke the whole time...

INT. GALLERY - CONTINUOUS

Christina with Grant in tow approaches a prissy art critic named KARL.

CHRISTINA Here he is, the man of the hour...shake the man's hand, Daniel.

GRANT (as they shake)

Nice to see you again.

KARL Still selling your books on spurious research and wild-assed conjecture, I see, Herr Grant.

GRANT (a phony smile)

You know how it is...keeps bread on the table and wine in the jug...

He turns and starts walking away, Christina right beside him.

GRANT (CONT'D) Now I've done my duty.

CHRISTINA You have not yet begun to suck up to the Press. Keep mingling.

EXT. BERLIN STREET - CONTINUOUS

The VW turns a corner, sputters, farts and dies.

6

Katja storms angrily from the car, slams the driver's door. And begins kicking the side of it repeatedly, cursing a blue streak and flipping it the finger...

Behind the VW, DRIVERS begin blasting on their horns impatiently and shouting out to her...

She shifts quickly to GIVING THEM THE FINGER. Walks off in a huff, leaving her stalled car just sitting there.

INT. ART GALLERY - CONTINUOUS

Grant finishes talking to another MEMBER OF THE PRESS...who nods satisfied and moves off --

Grant stands alone, picks up another passing glass of wine as -- Krietschmann steps forward again, only this time it's Dieter Schiff who corrals Grant --

SCHIFF There's someone waiting to meet you...

Grant motions for Schiff to the lead the way. He takes Grant over to an attractive young woman of 30-something. Short-cut hair, double-breasted jacket with nothing on under it, nursing a glass of wine.

SHIFF (making introductions)

Daniel Grant, Fraulein Docktor Marta Hauser. She is--

MARTA --curator of the Spengler Collection here in Berlin. You've heard of it?

GRANT Who hasn't? Pleased to meet you.

MARTA I was hoping to have a few moments of your time, Dr. Grant. Frankly, there's a proposition I wish to put before you...

GRANT (looks interested)

I love propositions from beautiful women.

7

MARTA You will excuse us, Dieter?

SCHIFF Of course.

Grant leads Marta to a quiet alcove by a window where they can talk privately --

Across the room Krietschmann watches the two of them very intently. He looks concerned. Finally turns and heads out the door.

INT. ART GALLERY - MINUTES LATER

Christina comes up to Schiff, who hands her a glass of wine. She motions toward Grant and Marta in deep con-versation by the window --

CHRISTINA What's that all about?

SCHIFF Business.

CHRISTINA (taking Marta in coldly)

Business-business or hanky-panky business?

SCHIFF Time will tell.

As they watch, Marta takes an envelope from her shoulder bag and hands it to Grant.

He looks inside and takes out a check. Looks at it. A substantial amount from the way he raises his eyebrows.

He folds the check and puts it in his breast pocket, then takes several photos from the envelope and studies them for a long moment.

Finally, he smiles at her and nods. Obviously they've come to an arrangement.

As they go through the above -- visible in the window be-hind them, a MAN IN A BLACK LEATHER JACKET -- lean, reptilian,

8 lethal-looking -- LUDWIG -- pauses to watch them -- pops Japanese bubble gum into his mouth --

Drops the wrapper on the sidewalk, walks slowly away, leaving the spectre of bad things to come in his wake.

INT. ART GALLERY - LATER

The reception is over. Waiters and Waitresses are clean-ing up, clearing surfaces of glasses and plates.

Grant, Schiff and Christina are standing out of the way. The photos Marta gave Grant lying on a small table.

SCHIFF Son of a bitch...from the Spengler collection...Mein Gott.

GRANT She wants me to appraise them for sale.

SCHIFF This is quite a coup, Daniel. You'll be the envy of every art expert and appraiser on the Continent.

GRANT Well, it's bound to be interesting...

(re: the check) And I already know it's lucrative.

CHRISTINA Naturally there's a book in it.

GRANT I certainly hope so.

He scoops up the photos and puts them away.

SCHIFF Just remember, Daniel. This isn't Iraq. The Cold War is over. The Wall doesn't exist any longer. And you won't find daggers under every cloak.

GRANT (smiles)

I'll keep it in mind.

9

He heads for the door.

EXT. ART GALLERY - MOMENTS LATER

A taxi pulls up at the curb in front of Grant. He climbs into the back.

GRANT Hilton Hotel, please.

The taxi drives off as Katja rushes to the front of the gallery. Sign in the door reads "CLOSED" in German and in English.

She tries the door. It's locked. She glares at the sign.

KATJA Schiesser!

She turns angrily away and bumps directly into an on-coming MAN.

KATJA (CONT'D) (in German)

Idiot! Get out of my way!

She gives him an angry shove, and off she goes. The Man looks bewildered.

EXT. BERLIN HILTON HOTEL - AFTERNOON

A taxi pulls up in front and a UNIFORMED DOORMAN opens the rear door for Grant.

DOORMAN Guten Abend, Herr Grant. I hope everything is well.

GRANT Looking good. Very good.

He tips the Doorman and goes inside.

INT. HALLWAY, INS OFFICES, BERLIN - LATE AFTERNOON

10

Katja strides quickly off the elevator. Walks down the hall to a door marked: "INTERNATIONAL NEWS SERVICE -- BERLIN BUREAU".

INT. OUTER OFFICE, INS - CONTINUOUS

Katja breezes in at full tilt boogie.

RECEPTIONIST He's been looking for you.

KATJA (snaps)

Big fucking deal.

RECEPTIONIST Car trouble again?

Katja just makes a face and walks on. Into an area of open cubicles, activity, routine day at a busy news service.

Lots of computer screens with lots of data from all over the world. She makes directly for...

INT. OFFICE, INS - CONTINUOUS

Lettering on the door reads: "R. GRAVES, EDITOR." GRAVES a rumpled and harried Brit working at his desk...

GRAVES And Blogger Babe finally shows herself...

KATJA Hey, don't go all snarky on me, Gravey boat. I was working.

GRAVES (grabs his redline)

Ah, yes. "The Impact of Post-Modernist Art on the New Socio-Dynamic Order." Bloody riveting stuff that is. Alistair Cooke's turning over in his grave.

KATJA Do I detect a note of sarcasm in those dulcet Cockney tones?

11

GRAVES Your job here is to create new media readers, not bore them to bloody suicide.

KATJA You've hurt my feelings, Gravey.

GRAVES Krietschmann. Where is he? I know the two of you have this thing.

KATJA -- had this thing. I dumped the bastard weeks ago. I'm no longer inclined to put up with his cheap Bavarian shit.

GRAVES Oh. My. Trouble in paradise? Look, this is the third day in a row he's a no-show.

KATJA Maybe he's chasing down a story. That always means more to him than anything. Even laying the knockwurst to me. Hence --

GRAVES -- I don't want to know that.

Rifles through his "in" box. Finds a note there.

GRAVES (CONT'D) Did you make it make it to that reception for the American art expert?

KATJA Ahm, unfortunately...there was a mobility problem.

GRAVES Capital. So no interview, right?

KATJA (heading out the door)

Ahm, I'm working on it.

GRAVES

12 And don't forget Krietschmann.

She goes...Graves grins, continues with his work...

INT. HOTEL BAR, BERLIN - EVENING

Grant sits at the bar having a drink. Chatting quietly with the BARTENDER who is keeping busy wiping glasses. Finishes his drink, motions for a refill.

BARTENDER (pouring another)

Slowly, slowly catchee monkey.

GRANT Say what?

BARTENDER Old Chinese proverb.

GRANT You sure about that?

BARTENDER Read it on the wall of a Hong Kong whorehouse once.

GRANT I stand corrected.

They both perk up when a spectacularly attractive woman we shall come to know as KARIN enters.

30s, German. In a dress tight enough to make your mouth water. Cut low at the top and high at the bottom. Dis-playing plenty of cleavage and long, shapely leg.

Bartender exchanges a look with Grant, then goes down the bar to where she's sitting. She whispers an order to him and he begins making her a martini.

She looks over at Grant. They start playing eye tag. She sips her drink, she catches Grant admiring the curve of her dress. Grant doesn't look away.

Instead he looks directly into her eyes. She stares back, a faint smile on her painted lips.

13

The sexual tension between them escalates rapidly. Bartender wanders back over to Grant.

BARTENDER Refill?

GRANT Sure. See if the lady needs one.

BARTENDER (calling down bar to her)

Man wants to know if you're ready for a refill?

GRANT Wow. I'm awed by the cool way you just did that. Thanks.

He glances apologetically over at the woman.

KARIN Tell the man only if he joins me.

Grant carries his drink down the bar, sits.

KARIN (CONT'D) Hi, I'm Karin.

GRANT I'm Daniel. You know, Karin, that dress you're wearing would look awesome hanging on the back of my bedroom door.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. GRANT'S HOTEL SUITE, BERLIN - LATER

Karin's dress hanging on the back of the bedroom door as their naked bodies merge and meld. Making steamy love in the moonlight streaming through the window...

And as they reach climax, she opens her eyes. And we see ... something more in them than the passion of the moment. Something...sinister.

INT. KATJA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

14

Small kitchenette. Katja, sipping white wine. Using her free hand to stick a TV dinner in the microwave. Sets the timer, pushes the "start" button...

As it cooks, she speed dials her cell phone. Is answered by KRIETSCHMANN'S OUTGOING MESSAGE:

(<<...>> DENOTES DIALOGUE IN GERMAN)

KRIETSCHMANN'S MESSAGE <<This is Erik Krietschmann. I'm not available right now. If you want to leave a message, please speak after the beep.>>

INT. KRIETSCHMANN'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Message machine on desk. A framed photo of Krietschman and Katja in the great German outdoors next to it.

KATJA (V.O.) <<Erik, you there? Erik? Pick up, it's me!>>

No answer, no response.

INT. KATJA'S APARTMENT

She folds her phone, puts it back down on the counter. Picks up the wine. Sips it. Ignores the "ding" of the microwave. She looks concerned.

INT. GRANT'S HOTEL SUITE, BERLIN - MORNING

He wakes to an empty bed. She's gone. Sits up, looks around the room, smiles a "Wow, what a night!"-smile.

Suddenly the phone on the bedside table rings. He answers it, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

GRANT Hello?

KATJA (PHONE/OVER) Mr. Grant? Katja Pierce. INS.

GRANT

15 Who?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. KATJA'S VW - CONTINUOUS

Ripping through traffic. Whips through a red light.

KATJA (phone to ear)

Katja Pierce. International News Service. I'd like to interview you.

GRANT You need to talk to my publisher's rep here in Berlin, Christina Schneider.

KATJA Look, I'm a blogger. On the international art scene. That makes you just my meat.

He gets up and heads into the bathroom, cordless phone to his ear...

GRANT Now there's a thought.

Katja suddenly spots the flashing lights of a POLICE CAR in her REAR VIEW MIRROR.

KATJA Asshole!

In the bathroom, he begins to take a pee as he talks.

GRANT Novel approach you've got there.

KATJA (pulling over)

No, no, not you.

A UNIFORMED POLICE OFFICER walks up to Katja.

POLICE OFFICER <<License and registration, please?>>

Yes, yes. She waves at him impatiently. On the phone.

16

KATJA Herr Grant, this is a great opportunity for you to--

GRANT --talk to Christina.

And he rings off.

POLICE OFFICER <<Licence and registration. Now!>>

The Police Officer is glaring at her. He's pissed. She folds her mobile, looks up at him all eye-batting, sugar- wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth seductive sweetness.

INT. BATHROOM, GRANT'S HOTEL SUITE - MINUTES LATER

Grant stands under the shower basking in the warm stream of a bracing morning shower.

INT. LOBBY, BERLIN HILTON - CONTINUOUS

Grant comes out of the elevator, dressed and ready for the day, beaming. As Grant passes the reception desk, the DESK CLERK beckons him over.

CLERK A message was left for you.

He goes to get it. A LOVELY YOUNG VIXEN passes, a flirtatious grin on her face. Grant smiles back at her. Watches her go.

CLERK (CONT'D) Your message, Herr Grant.

GRANT Oh. Right.

Takes it from the Clerk. A hotel envelope. Opens it. Ruled paper torn from a notebook.

Hastily scrawled message reads: "WE MUST TALK. YOU ARE IN GREAT DANGER. ERIK KRIETSCHMANN. 071-21-22-074."