BOBBY (V.O.)

                      They are a vital threat to my country.

                      If launched, they would kill 80 million

                      Americans.

                                                           SMASH CUT TO:

            INT. BOBBY'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

            Dobrynin listens impassively, as is his professional duty.

                                BOBBY

                      My brother, my friends, my countrymen

                      and I cannot and will not permit those

                      missiles to become operational.

                          (beat)

                      I promise you that.

            Dobrynin looks out the window.  And then, pained, looks back

            at Bobby.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      Then I fear our two nations will go to

                      war.  And I fear where war will lead us.

            Bobby acknowledges him with a nod.

                                BOBBY

                      If the missiles do not become

                      operational, if you remove the missiles,

                      then there will be no war.

                          (beat)

                      At this moment, the President is

                      accepting the terms of Secretary

                      Khruschev's letter of Friday night.  If

                      the Soviet Union halts construction

                      immediately, removes the missiles, and

                      submits to U.N. inspection, the United

                      States will pledge to never invade Cuba

                      or aid others in that enterprise.

            Dobrynin stares at Bobby.  Stares hard.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      If your Jupiter missiles in Turkey were

                      removed also, such an accommodation

                      could be reached.

            The two men move their argument forward with the deliberation

            and formality of chess masters.

                                BOBBY

                          (tired sounding)

                      The United States cannot agree to such

                      terms under threat.  Any belief to the

                      contrary --

                          (beat)

                      -- was in error.

            Dobrynin reels internally.  The only sign on his face is a

            slight tremor.  Bobby looks up, registers the calculated

            effect.  And to Dobrynin's horror, the Russian believes:

                                DOBRYNIN

                      You want war...

            But not so fast.  Bobby folds his hands.  And he smoothly

            goes from hard-ass brinksman to sensitive deal-maker.

                                BOBBY

                      However, while there can be no quid pro

                      quo on this issue, the United States can

                      offer a private assurance.

            Dobrynin holds his breath.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)

                      Our Jupiter missiles in Turkey are

                      obsolete, and have been scheduled for

                      withdrawal for some time.  This

                      withdrawal should be completed within,

                      say, six months.

            Dobrynin lets out his breath.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)

                      Of course, any public disclosure of this

                      assurance would negate the deal and

                      produce the most stringent denials from

                      our government.

            Dobrynin grasps the move immediately, understanding the

            ramifications.  Still he hesitates a moment.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      This private assurance represents the

                      word of the Highest Authority?

                                BOBBY

                      Yes.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      And it can be relayed beyond Comrade

                      Khruschev's ears to the top circles of

                      my government

                                BOBBY

                      Of course.  Our pledge can be relayed to

                      any government official Secretary

                      Khruschev sees fit to satisfy.

            Meaning this is the bone he can show the hard line.  Dobrynin

            struggles internally, knowing what Bobby has done, wanting to

            hug him.  It comes across as agitation.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)

                      With the caveat that it is not made

                      public in any way, shape or form.

                          (beat)

                      And we must have an answer tomorrow at

                      the latest.  I cannot stress this point

                      enough.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      Tomorrow...

                                BOBBY

                      Tomorrow...

            Dobrynin rises from his chair.  Bobby rises with him.

                                DOBRYNIN

                      Then you must excuse me and permit me to

                      relay the substance of our discussion to

                      my superiors.

            Dobrynin heads for the door.  Half way there he turns back to

            Bobby, deeply moved.  Deeply grateful.

                                DOBRYNIN (CONT'D)

                      We have heard stories that some among

                      your military men wish for war.

                          (beat)

                      You are a good man.  Your brother is a

                      good man.  I assure you there are other

                      good men.  Let us hope the will of good

                      men is enough to counter the terrible

                      strength of this thing which has been

                      put in motion.

            INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT

            Kenny enters the Oval Office through his side door.  The

            office is dark, only the desk lamp on.  Kenny's gaze moves

            over the trappings of power: the carpet with the Presidential

            Seal, the rocking chair by the fireplace, the desk.

            And on the desk, tucked almost out of sight, sits a small,

            humble wooden plaque.  It's turned to face the occupant of

            the chair behind the desk.  Kenny reaches out, turns it

            around.  It is the Breton's Fisherman's Prayer.

            It reads: OH LORD, THY SEA IS GREAT, MY BOAT SO SMALL.

                                BOBBY (O.S.)

                      We're out here.

            Kenny holds on the plaque a beat, and looks up at the open

            French door to the Rose Garden.  The curtains swirl around

            him in the wind as he goes through the door and out --

            EXT. PORTICO - CONTINUOUS

            -- onto the portico.  Standing there in the dark, by the

            white neoclassical pillars of the cloister, are Bobby and the

            President.  They're holding drinks.  Kenny joins them.

            The President gestures out across the South Lawn to the

            gleaming Washington Monument.

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      We were just debating who had it worse,

                      us or George Washington and his guys.

                                BOBBY

                      He didn't have to worry about nuclear

                      weapons.

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      Yeah, but the country didn't even exist

                      as a country yet.  It was a mess, and he

                      didn't have a leg to stand on.

                                KENNY

                      All he had was his character.

            The President and Bobby nod at the justice of that remark.

                                BOBBY

                      How does a guy get a rep like that?

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      Doesn't matter to me.  If I went down in

                      history like Adams, I'd die happy.  All

                      they say about him today is --

                                KENNY

                      -- he kept the peace.

            Kenny looks at the President.  The President feels it, and

            gazes back to him.

            The three of them stare out at the glittering city.  The

            grandness of the world lies before them, and they are

            deciding its fate, and are humbled by the awfulness of it.

            The silence is beyond power.

            And for a long moment, they know not to disturb it.  There is

            nothing left to say.  The President, at last, finishes his

            drink.

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      You know, we never did control it.  Not

                      really.  Not like we think.

            He looks at Kenny.  Kenny nods.  He knows that now too.

                                THE PRESIDENT (CONT'D)

                      But we did our best.  Now it's up to

                      them.

            EXT. O'DONNELL DRIVEWAY - NIGHT

            Kenny's limo pulls away, leaving Kenny, coat in hand, at the

            bottom of his driveway.  He watches it go, silently urging it

            to return for him with some call from the President telling

            him he's desperately needed.  But it doesn't.

            He turns to his house.  The lights are all out.

            He notices he's CLUTCHING the handle of his briefcase.  His

            knuckles are white.  With conscious effort, he unfolds his

            hand, letting the briefcase drop on the driveway.

            He stands alone, stripped of his friends, his family, his

            job... and in that moment, mute, impotent in the shadow of

            Armageddon, Kenny is our Everyman of the Nuclear Age.

            INT. O'DONNELL KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

            Helen stands in the kitchen, a ghostly white figure in her

            robe, the windows open and curtain flapping as she breathes

            the air.  Kenny enters.  He stands in the doorway.

                                HELEN

                      I saw you out there.  You want him to

                      call you back, need you.

                                KENNY

                      No.  I'm glad I'm home.

            And she knows the worst.

                                HELEN

                      How long do we have?

            Kenny's voice breaks.

                                KENNY

                      If the sun rises in the morning, it is

                      only because of men of goodwill.

                          (beat)

                      And that's all there is between us and

                      the Devil.

            They take each other in their arms, the wisdom of the atomic

            age so simple, so tenuous, every human life hanging by such a

            thread... yet a thread so powerful.  The CAMERA RISES FROM

            THEM, finding the OPEN WINDOW and the DARKNESS.

            INT. O'DONNELL BEDROOM - DAWN

            The RED DOME OF NUCLEAR FIRE rising over Washington.  It

            roils the air in its expanding, blood-red glory.

            It is the sun.  The dawn in the East.

            PULL BACK THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW.

            SUPER: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 28TH.  DAY 13

            into Kenny and Helen's bedroom.  And silence.  Kenny and

            Helen lie together on the bed.  The light burns into Kenny's

            half-shut eye.  Kenny is only dimly conscious of the light's

            meaning.  Until the PHONE SHRILLS downstairs.

            Kenny is instantly up, launched out of the room.

            INT. O'DONNELL KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

            Kenny snatches the RED PHONE from its hook.