Difference between revisions of "The Orient Express"
| Line 97: | Line 97: | ||
-But I'm not looking for my father! | -But I'm not looking for my father! | ||
| − | ====CARLA'S | + | ====CARLA'S GRANDPARENTS FARM, MITTELLAND, SWITZERLAND==== |
Both grandparents are sitting at the kitchen table staring at Carla who is contemplating a plate of roesti. They smile at her silently. | Both grandparents are sitting at the kitchen table staring at Carla who is contemplating a plate of roesti. They smile at her silently. | ||
Revision as of 02:10, 20 September 2011
OUTLINE
With Uri and Alexander on board, the train cross the channel to pick Najwa up in Paris.
She board the 01:00 flight from Dubai first class last minute.
Everybody is chasing everybody.
They end up in Venice.
Uri will confront Alexander about his attempts to neutralize Carla...
Upset about the news, Najwa will mediate...
Mossad won't be on board, only US operatives tipped by IRN.
How does Uri learns of Alexander's presence on the train? Through Zvi?
<< PREVIOUS EPISODE -- NEXT EPISODE >>
TRAIN WAGON, CALAIS
GARE DE L'EST, PARIS
Najwa walks out of a taxi in front the Gare de l'Est and enters the station. She looks around and notices the ticket counter where she addresses the SNCF agent in pretty good French.
-L'Orient-Express pour Venise?
The agent replies with a typical Parisian demeanor.
-Les billet pour L'Orient Express c'est en agence mademoiselle.
-Merci, non je rejoint mon mari à bord... J'amerais savoir sur quelle voie s'il vous plait.
-Ben y faut regarder les tableaux alors.
The agent reluctantly looks at his screen as Najwa smiles at him.
-Voie 6 à 21h44.
-Merci...
She walks away then turns around towards the agent.
-Ah si, une dernière information, les trains en provenance de Berlin, il arrivent ici?
-Non l'Allemagne c'est à la Gare du Nord madame.
-Et c'est loin?
-En sortant de la gare vous tournez à droite et montez la balustrade de la rue d'Alsace puis à gauche sur la rue de Dunkerque... 10 minutes.
-C'est très gentils monsieur.
-Je vous en prie.
BETWEEN GARE DE L'EST AND GARE DU NORD, PARIS
Najwa plugs her headphones to her phone as she walks up an external staircase leading to Rue d'Alsace. She scrolls down the song list until she hits David Bowie's Helden. As she wanders the street, she stops in front of a bookstore and notices the covers of an Argentinean comic book l'Eternaute, which leads her to think of Borges, Anne Frank and her missing father... When notices a cheap hotel up the street, she wonders if that's where she was conceived. Her minds continues meandering until she gets in front of the Gare du Nord but an incoming SMS interrupts her inner journey.
-WAY
-GARE DU NORD
-IT'S GARE DE L'EST!
-I KNOW. CU IN 10 ;)
-RUN NAJWA RUN
ALEXANDER & NAJWA'S COMPARTMENT, ORIENT EXPRESS, LEAVING PARIS
Najwa leans on Alexander as she stares out the window.
-Why are so so moody Naj...
-Just Paris... Takes me back.
-I thought it was your first time here.
-That's where I was apparently conceived.
-Not in Budapest?
-My mother only told me bits of the story. My father was a French Canadian kid wayfaring throughout Europe and they met in Berlin, I think. Then they came here. To Paris. Just for one day... One night. The only thing I have from him is a poem he wrote to my mother... That night. It ends with For ever and ever... But they never met again.
-Did she tell you his name?
-It was signed Axel... I think he was even younger than her...
Najwa grabs Alexander's neck and kisses him.
-But I'm not looking for my father!
CARLA'S GRANDPARENTS FARM, MITTELLAND, SWITZERLAND
Both grandparents are sitting at the kitchen table staring at Carla who is contemplating a plate of roesti. They smile at her silently.
-Eat Johanna... You need to get strong my little girl.
Carla gently rests her hand on her grandmother's arm.
-Grosi, I'm not Johanna... I am Carla... Johanna was my mother... She died when I was 4.
Carla's grandmother stares outside then looks back at Carla who smiles at both her grandparents lovingly.
-Grospapi, how many cows do you still have?
-One... Schakal... And she won't dies...
-Do you still milk her?
-Every morning... and every night... Schakal...
The grandmother smiles at Carla again.
-Eat Johanna... Eat.
EXTERIOR, CHAMPAGNE-ARDENNE, THREE HOURS EAST OF PARIS
The Orient Express crosses the French countryside, traversing space and time. Its thick white smoke lightens the nightly sky. Najwa stares out through the foggy window as Alexander sleeps, leaning on her shoulder.
RESTAURANT WAGON, ORIENT EXPRESS
A man sitting at the bar of the restaurant wagon sips on a Lager reading his SMS. It's Uri. The barman, a black man with a Jamaican accent looks at him from the edge of the counter.
-Quiet night, sir... Still working, or matters of the heart.
Uri, smirks but doesn't answer.
-Another half? On the house.
Uri raises his eyes away from his phone, empties his glass then slides it towards the barman.
-Why not... Thank you.
The barman fills Uri's glass and foam spills over the edge.
Uri notices the barman's clumsiness.
-Vibrations!
-Yes.
The barman looks at the beer barrel under the bar before topping Uri's glass.
-I better check the pressure. Here you go.
-Thanks.
The train slow down and enter Troyes' station. Uri looks out the window trying to figure out where they are.
-Do you know where we are?
The barman pulls a curtain behind the bar's window.
-Troyes... I guess?
-You've done this journey often?
-No. I actually just started. This is my first trip. They called me in last minute to sub for the night guy who was incapacitated. I come from the hotel/gala scene. I guess that's what they're looking for.
-Guess so...
CARLA'S GRANDPARENTS FARM, MITTELLAND, SWITZERLAND
In the middle of the night, Carla silently exits her grandparents farmhouse seeking a better phone signal on higher grounds. She reaches the summer stable and enters quietly as a cow appears to be sleeping. As she notice a signal on her phone, the cow wakes up and moos.
RESTAURANT WAGON, ORIENT EXPRESS
Uri gets the barman to drink as he suspects him of being US intelligence on Nikitin's trail. Barman slowly looses his Jamaican accent as he uses more and more American slang words... The two men seize each other and use parabolas to discuss field ops.'