Kenny shrugs¹.  Adlai takes a long drink, closes his eyes.

 

                                ADLAI

                      Gotta keep up appearances.  Of course, I

                      don't care anymore.  I'm a political

                      dead man.  You ever seen a man cut his

                      own throat like I did today?

 

            Kenny has no answer to that.  He looks down, pained for

            Adlai.

 

                                ADLAI (CONT'D)

                      Well, it's all right.

                          (beat)

                      I came to tell you, just talked to a

                      friend.  Reston and Frankel have the

                      story.  It's going to run tomorrow.

 

            INT. BEDROOM - JIM ROWE'S HOUSE - LATER

 

            Kenny, shut in the bedroom, paces on the phone.

 

                                KENNY

                      We're not going to make it to Monday.

                      I'll try to lean on Reston, but you're

                      going to have to call Orville Dryfoos.

                      This is the sort of decision the

                      publisher makes himself.

 

                     INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

 

            New York Times publisher ORVILLE DRYFOOS sits at his kitchen

            table in his underwear, still half-asleep, phone to his ear.

 

                                DRYFOOS

                      Yes, sir, I understand.  But we held on

                      Bay of Pigs and it was the biggest

                      mistake of my life.  What makes this any

                      different?

 

            INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

 

            The President, on the phone, stops pacing by his bedside

            table and exhales².

 

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      I'm asking you to hold the story until I

                      can present our course of action on

                      Monday night.

 

            INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

 

                                DRYFOOS

                      All right.  But I need a reason to give

                      my boys.  They're going to be screaming

                      for my head on a plate.

 

            INT. PRESIDENT'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

 

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      Orville.  I want you to tell them this:

                      they'll be saving lives.  Maybe even

                      including their own.

 

            INT. ORVILLE DRYFOOS' KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

 

            At that, Dryfoos sits up.  Serious.  All resistance gone.

 

                                DRYFOOS

                      Yes, Mr. President.

 

            INT. ST. STEPHEN'S CHURCH - DAY

 

            SUPER: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21ST.  DAY 6

 

            AVE MARIA soars over the communion meditation³ at a crowded

            Sunday mass.  Kenny, in a pew, glances off to his left.

 

            The President sits nearby, head bowed.  But Kenny knows he's

            not thinking about the mass.  And when the President at last

            lifts his head, Kenny sees the calm poise⁴.

 

            The President has made up his mind...

 

            INT. KENNY'S OFFICE - DAY

 

            Bobby barges⁵ into Kenny's office.  Kenny, knowing his unique

            entry, doesn't bother to look up.

 

                                KENNY

                      Acheson called, DeGaulle's with us;

                      haven't heard from anyone else yet.

 

            Kenny finally looks up.  Bobby's grim.  And an icicle forms

            in Kenny's gut⁶ as Bobby relays.

 

                                BOBBY

                      He wants to talk to LeMay again.

 

            INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY

 

            Kenny, Bobby, McNamara, Rusk, Bundy and half of EXCOM stand

            to the side of the room.  General Sweeney and LeMay stand in

            front of the President's desk.

 

            The President, bowed in the window, is care-worn, a thousand

            years old.  The shadow, the composition of the SHOT tells us

            all.  It's down to what's in the heart of one man.  Kenny is

            deeply moved at his friend's Gethsemane.

 

                                THE PRESIDENT

                      Cam, can you guarantee me you'll get all

                      the missiles?

 

            Sweeney glances at LeMay.  LeMay's stern, frozen look wills

            him to say, very simply, "yes."

 

            But then the President turns around, looks Sweeney in the

            eye.  It would make Machiavelli himself tell the truth.

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