Don's arc: Post-Convoy Sequence

Post-Convoy Sequence

                                                       FADE IN:


     EXT. MILITARY BASE - DAY

     Don watches the scene around him as the wounded are taken
     away and the dead are covered with black blankets.

     He's still covered in the gore of his comrades.

                          DON (O.S.)
                    (thinking)
               You didn't do enough.

     He looks at the 18 bodies in front of him.

     Medics take away a man in a stretcher. His leg is missing.

                          DON (O.S.) (CONT’D)
                    (thinking)
               This is your fault.

     He looks down at ROGERS, (21). Rogers shoots him a smile and
     a nod.

                          DON (CONT’D)
                    (thinking)
               I'm this way because you weren't
               fast enough.

     Don continues to walk through the scores of wounded.

     He stops at Parks who smokes a cigarette.

     Diaz stands there and looks through the photos on his camera.

     He's got a bandage around his neck.

                          IND MEDIC 1
               Mr. Diaz, come with us.

     They bring out a stretcher. Diaz shakes his head.

                          DIAZ
               I'll walk, give it to someone who
               needs it.

     He stands up.

                          IND MEDIC 1
               Alright, I'll walk you there then.

     Another batch of medics comes in and begins to take the
     wounded.

     Diaz looks over at Don and gives him a nod and a grin.

                          DON (O.S.)
                    (thinking)
               He wishes you were dead you know.

     A small group approaches him from the front. HERNANDEZ, (19)
     leads them. The depression is visible in his eyes.

                          HERNANDEZ
               What do we do now, Staff Sergeant?

     Don looks them over. They all carry thousand yard stares.
     Their clothing is stained in blood and dirt. Some of them
     have burns on their clothing.

     The fear in their eyes is palpable as they look at Don.
     There's blood and body parts all over his vest, bones are
     lodged into the cloth of his plate carrier. His face is
     covered in ash.

     Don takes his helmet off and looks at all of them.

                          DON
               They told us to stand by, but-

     He looks behind and around him.

                          DON (CONT’D)
               Turn your weapons in to the armory,
               get yourselves cleaned up, and come
               back here to await further orders.
               It's been a bad day. Get back here
               in two hours, hooah?

                          GROUP
               Hooah, staff sergeant.

     The group heads off.

     Don walks alone. He passes by NICK FLETCHER, (34). He wears
     UK DPM camo and a pair of jeans.

                          NICK
               Roight lad?

     Don says nothing and continues to walk forward, hands in his
     pockets. His rifle is still slung around his shoulder and his
     sidearm in its holster.

     He continues to walk and stops at a shower trailer.

     He checks behind him. No one seems to be paying attention to
     him.

     He walks into a stall and closes the door behind him.


     INT. SHOWER STALL - DAY

     Don turns the water on then sets the rifle down and takes out
     his handgun.

                          DON
                    (singing)
               I know... I know I've let you down.

     He chamber checks it. The gun is covered in blood. He takes
     off his gloves and looks at his gun.

                          DON (CONT’D)
                    (singing)
               I've been a fool to myself! I
               thought that I could live for no
               one else!

     Don gives a tired grin. He puts the Beretta up to his skull,
     his finger on the trigger.

     The door comes down behind him as Nick and Parks tackle him
     down. Tears roll down Don's eyes as the water begins to clean
     the blood and dirt off around him.

     DON (CONT’D)
     LET ME FUCKING DIE GOD DAMN
     IT, I DESERVE IT! IT'S MY
     FAULT THEY'RE ALL FUCKED UP

                                      NICK
                                      Be reasonable here, mate!

                          DON (CONT’D)
               Fuck you, Nick, you weren't there!
               You don't know what I did!

     Parks takes the handgun and rifle away from him.

                          DON (CONT’D)
                    (sobbing)
               Just let me die, it's my fault that
               they're fucked up, I'm the reason
               they're all fucked up...

                                                 FADE TO BLACK.