SONS OF THE WHITE ROSE

A Television Screenplay

By

Noel K Hannan

Title sequence - stirring martial music. Black background, start of credits. Rippling Yorkshire county flag on pole, SONS OF THE WHITE ROSE overlaid in military stencil-typeface.

1. EXT. PENNINE HILLS. EVENING.

Credits continue over opening scene - exterior, a TR7 sports car winding its way through wet Pennine countryside at breakneck speed. Close in, worm’s eye view of the tyres spraying gravel as it takes a tight corner. We hear DAVE speak before cutting to the interior of the car. It is early evening, and it is raining heavily.

DAVE

Bloody hell, Jack. I haven’t travelled three hundred miles to get killed on some Godforsaken Yorkshire hillside.

Cut to interior of car. JACK is driving, grim-faced and gripping the steering wheel tightly. Jack is late twenties, dark haired, well-dressed in a casual way, self-assured and dominant. DAVE is sat in the passenger seat, soaking wet, holding an Adidas sports bag on his knees. Dave is mid-thirties, stocky and balding, a little clumsy and not too bright. He is usually in awe of Jack. They are both small time crooks with big ideas. As they speak, the windscreen wipers squeak noisily across the screen.

JACK

Stop whingeing, Dave. I had to wait for three hours at that bus shelter they call a railway station. We’re behind schedule.

DAVE

And I’m soaked to the skin. Slow down, I don’t want to die soaking wet.

JACK

No one ever died from being soaking wet.

DAVE

No? What about hypothermia? Pneumonia? Exposure?

JACK

Alright. You’ll get the chance to dry out when we get to Upperthwaite. But we have to be in position on time.

DAVE

You make it sound like a military operation.

Jack turns to Dave with a grin and flexes his hands on the steering wheel, then changes down a gear dramatically.

Exterior of car skidding around a bend and accelerating away. They pass a sign that reads WELCOME TO THE SOCIALIST COUNTY OF NORTH YORKSHIRE - the sign is peppered with bullet holes.

JACK (voice over)

A military operation? That’s exactly what it is, Dave.

2. EXTERIOR. COUNTRY INN. NIGHT

Lights in the windows, upstairs and down. The TR7 is parked at the front of the inn, and it is still raining heavily.

Interior of bedroom inside inn. Chintzy decoration, floral curtains and velour wallpaper. JACK is sat on a single bed with an Ordnance Survey map and photographs scattered on it, and a glossy magazine open to one side. In the background, steam drifts from a bathroom door and DAVE can be heard singing tunelessly and splashing in the bath. A TV is on in the corner of the room. Tony Blair is on the TV, making a speech. Close up of TV, catching the last few words of the speech, then cut to newsreader and freezeframe of Blair behind her.

TV NEWSREADER

Prime Minister Blair making a keynote speech today to mark the start of his party’s second term in power.

Jack tuts and gets up, switching off the TV.

JACK (mutters)

Bloody socialists.

DAVE (from bathroom)

What?

JACK

Hurry up in there.

DAVE

It’s lovely. I could stay in here all night. Can’t we do this tomorrow?

Jack appears at the door of the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the back of the door.

JACK (angrily)

Did Bonnie postpone the bank robbery because Clyde was in the bath? Did Butch say “We’ll rob the stagecoach tomorrow instead” because the Sundance Kid was in the bath? No.

Jack throws the towel at Dave

JACK (irritably)

Get dressed, Dave. We’re running out of time.

Jack is sat on the bed, studying the map. Dave emerges from the bathroom in a white fluffy towelling robe, towelling his hair dry.

DAVE (cheerily)

Got this place sorted, then?

JACK (still irritable)

Of course. I’ve been up here for over a week sitting in bushes and trees and freezing to death. I know every inch of the colonel’s estate like the back of my hand. Take a look at these.

Jack hands Dave a sheaf of photographs. Close up of the photographs in Dave’s hands as he looks at them and Jack comments.

Photograph one - ‘paparazzi’ style stolen snapshot of COLONEL JACOB SANDERSON grooming a large shire horse by a stable door. Photograph has been shot through a ‘frame’ of tree leaves and branches. The colonel is in his mid-sixties and dressed in riding gear, khaki shirt with sleeves rolled up, ruddy face, handlebar moustache, slight paunch but otherwise looks very fit and formidable-looking for his age. He is looking around suspiciously as if he knows he is being watched.

JACK (voice over)

Colonel Jacob Horatio Sanderson, retired. Millionaire land owner, antique and art collector, military historian.

Close up of Dave.

DAVE

I know all this, Jack. Why’s he combing the horse? Doesn’t he have small boys or something to do that?

JACK (rolls his eyes, exasperated)

It’s called grooming, Dave. And he lives in this big old manor all on his Jack Jones. Cleaner in twice a week, every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Otherwise, he does everything himself. No cooks, no maids, no butlers. No wife - and no small boys.

Close up of photograph two - two fearsome rottweilers growling, picture obviously taken from the branches of a tree, looking down.

JACK

I risked my life for this one, Dave, I hope you appreciate that. A regular Don McCullin.

DAVE

Who?

JACK

Never mind. These two friendly fellows are Donner and Blitzen, the colonel’s faithful companions. This morning the colonel went away on business but Donner and Blitzen got left behind. We’re going to have to ‘persuade’ them that we’re big friends of the colonel, and that we mean them no harm.

Close up of Dave.

DAVE

And how are we going to do that?

JACK

Did you bring the stuff I asked for?

DAVE

Yes, I got it.

Dave picks up his Adidas bag. He opens it and takes out a large package wrapped in greaseproof paper. He unwraps it partially and shows it to Jack. Close up of five pounds of coiled Cumberland sausage.

JACK

Good man.

Jack takes a small canister from his pocket, something like a 35mm film canister, and cracks the lid. He gently sprinkles powder from the canister on to the sausage.

JACK

Good doggies. Eat it all up. Sleep tight!

DAVE (laughing)

You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you, Jack?

Jack nods smugly and picks up the glossy magazine. As he lifts it up we see the title - ARMS AND ARMOUR MONTHLY. A page has been marked and he shows it to Dave. Close up of the page - an article about the colonel and an antique sword that is the pride of his collection, The Sword of Valour. The photo that accompanies the article shows the colonel standing by a glass case in a study. The sword is gleaming in the case and the colonel is beaming proudly by it.

JACK (suddenly coming over all serious)

This is what we’re after, Dave. The Sword of Valour - remember it well. We’re going to be searching for it in the dark, in a hurry. You can see what sort of case it’s in but I’ve no idea which room the colonel keeps it in. We’ve been offered a million quid for it by an anonymous foreign collector, and tonight we’re going to steal it right out from under the good colonel’s big fat red nose!

Jack puts his hands on Dave’s shoulder.

JACK

Get dressed, Dave. We’re going in.

3. EXT. OUTSIDE COLONEL’S ESTATE. NIGHTTIME, RAINING.

Large expanse of shrubbery and small trees bordering the colonel’s estate, which is a floodlit haze in the background. Rustling, noise and movement in the bushes, zoom in to see JACK and DAVE moving clumsily through the undergrowth. They are both dressed in dark boiler suits and black leather gloves, and have rolled-up balaclavas on their heads so it looks as if they are wearing woolly hats. Dave carries the sausages in a carrier bag, Jack carries a small canvas holdall which contains his burglary tools.

Dave trips and falls and curses loudly. Jack turns and bends over him, glancing around nervously.

JACK

For God’s sake, Dave. Do you have to make so much noise?

Dave is on all fours looking up at Jack.

DAVE

You’re making more noise telling me off.

JACK

What?

DAVE

I’m well aware that I have made a noise. I don’t think that the colonel’s dogs are deaf. I didn’t make a noise on purpose. You telling me off will not necessarily stop me making further noise, but creates noise itself. You are adding to the noise rather than stopping it.

Jack blinks, unaccustomed to such cheek (and lucidity) from Dave.

JACK

And how much noise are you making now?

DAVE

I felt my point had to put across.

Dave has now stood up and he and Jack are almost nose-to-nose.

JACK (teeth gritted)

Point bloody taken. Shall we continue?

Dave gives a sarcastic grin and gestures for Jack to go first.

The point of view follows them from behind as they struggle through the wet undergrowth, and moves over the top of their heads as they reach a five foot brick wall and crouch down in front of it. We see the colonel’s estate properly for the first time, in all its floodlit splendour - a huge manor house surrounded by gravelled drives and immaculate lawns, with large outbuildings scattered around. The view we see from Jack and Dave’s point of view is one of the front corners of the house, with a side view of a large flight of steps sweeping down from it, which end in a pair of stone lions.

Close up of Dave and Jack peering over the wall.

DAVE

No sign of Donut and Blister.

JACK

That’s - never mind. Give me the package.

Jack unwraps the pack of sausage. He throws away the wrapping and dumps the sausage unceremoniously over the wall, then ducks down and looks at his watch. Dave crouches beside him.

JACK

I did a dry run of this last night with a couple of beefburgers. They took exactly ten seconds to reach the wall.

Dave gulps hard.

4. INT. SMALL BARN.

Two enormous rottweilers are sleeping on blankets with water and food bowls scattered around. Lots of gnawed suspiciously-human looking bones. One of the rottweilers lifts its big head and sniffs the air, then lurches to its feet and runs through a ‘cat flap’ style hatch in the door, with an accompanying bang. The other rottweiler quickly follows. Exterior view of them exiting the barn, then worm’s eye view of them spraying gravel from their paws as they move at speed along the drive at the front of the house.

Back to Jack and Dave, peering over the wall, heads just visible, camera zooming in to emphasise the speed of the dog’s approach. Jack and Dave’s eyes go wide.

From outside the wall, Jack pulls Dave away as one of the dog slams heavily into the opposite side of the wall, bulging it outwards and dislodging a few bricks and a lot of dust. Dave is mesmerised but Jack keeps pulling him along in a stumbling crouch. Sounds of disgusting carnage from the other side of the wall, but do not show dogs eating.

Point of view backs away, running, as it is ‘chased’ by Jack and Dave down a wet tunnel formed by the overhanging foliage and the wall. Jack and Dave stay low, moving away from the dogs, and reach a spot where Jack has marked a white X on the wall with spray paint. Jack pops his head up and looks over the wall. They are now at the rear of the house - the dogs are out of sight. The rear of the house opens on to a huge lawn, and has a large open patio/balcony accessible by a flight of stone steps similar to the front. Jack throws his bag over and Dave gives him a foot-hold to boost him over the wall. Jack leans back and helps Dave in. Dave tumbles clumsily over the wall and ends up sitting on the grass, grinning. Jack looks relatively happy.

JACK

So far so good.

DAVE (standing up)

You think of everything, Jack. This is going to be a breeze.

They set off across the lawn, at a brisk pace but not running. Dave keeps looking around nervously but Jack appears single-minded, staring straight ahead as they close with the back of the house.

Close up of one of the rottweilers, dramatically illuminated from behind by the security light mounted on an outbuilding, padding slowly around the corner of the house. It stops and stares at Jack and Dave.

Close up of Jack and Dave, freezing in their tracks. Dave clutches Jack’s arm.

Close up of dog. It snorts, breath pluming in the cold wet air, and paws the ground like a bull.

Jack and Dave make a break for the house. They are shown moving in real time while the dog, running virtually at 90 degrees to them, is shown in close-up slow motion, muscles rippling, to emphasise the speed with which it is moving. Jack and Dave run full-tilt, heads thrown back, cartoon-style.

DAVE

How long have we got?

JACK

What are you on about?

DAVE

Didn’t you dry run this last night?

JACK

No I bloody didn’t!

They mount the patio steps three at a time and practically slam into the glass doors. Jack, panicking, fumbles his canvas bag and spills tools all over the place. He drops the bag and goes down on his knees, searching on the ground for his jimmy, giving a pathetic whimper. Dave is pressed with his back against the glass, transfixed on the dog, which is approaching like a missile. Jack finds the jimmy and stands up, inserting it into a gap between the doors and giving an almighty shove. The doors creak but do not budge. He whimpers and hits it again. Still no give. In desperation he jams it further in, steps back and gives it a kick. The doors open inwards. Jack picks up the jimmy and steps inside but Dave has been sent sprawling on the patio by the kick. He scrabbles on his hands and knees and Jack reaches down to pull him in by his collar. The rottweiler is leaping up the steps and is just about to bite Dave’s bottom as Jack hauls him roughly inside and slams both doors in the dog’s face. The doors bulge but Jack manages to throw bolts top and bottom. The dog goes crazy, backing away and taking multiple runs at the doors, slamming into them, slavering at the mouth. The doors bulge each time but hold.

Jack, with exaggerated cool, straightens his clothing and then raps on the glass gently with one knuckle, apparently oblivious to the dog. Dave, by contrast, is a quivering mess on the floor.

JACK

Now that is some tough glass. Where do you think you’d get such tough glass, Dave?

DAVE (incredulous)

We’ve just been nearly eaten by that - that - Predator out there, and you’re waffling about glass?

JACK

That glass is currently saving your life, mate.

Dave gets to his feet and dusts himself down, attempting to regain his composure. Jack takes a small torch from his pocket and uses it to survey the room they have entered. It appears to be a large library. Dave cannot take his eyes off the dog, and flinches at every impact.

DAVE

They were meant to be knocked out, Jack. What happened?

JACK

God knows. At least we got rid of one. As good as that glass is, I don’t think it would hold two of ‘em.

DAVE

Will you shut up about that bloody glass?

Jack pats Dave patronisingly on the shoulder. Dave shrugs him off aggressively.

JACK

Calm down. We’re in, aren’t we? Now, let’s find this sword, and get the hell out of here.

Jack opens the door to the next room, which is a long dining hall. Dave follows him. Jack plays his torch beam along the walls, and Dave takes out a torch and does the same, as they pass along the side of a long banqueting table. There are many paintings and antique weaponry mounted on the walls.

DAVE

Yeah, getting out of here. Won’t be so easy, will it, now we’ve got Cruft’s Carnivore of the Year outside. Any ideas?

Jack is concentrating, examining the paintings and antiques on the wall, as if he is contemplating stealing everything while they are here. Dave plays his torch beam across the table where he notices some magazines are scattered. He picks a couple up and shines his torch on the covers - the magazines are SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, GUNG-HO and NEW BREED - JOURNAL OF THE INTERNATIONAL FIGHTING MAN.

DAVE

Hey, Jack, this colonel’s a real war-head. I knew a guy who used to read this stuff. What a psycho he was!

Jack has stopped and has unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket. It is the magazine article about the colonel, where he is posing with the Sword of Valour. Jack scrutinises it and notices he can see out of a window to the left of the colonel’s shoulder.

JACK

Dave, were the lions at the front of the house, or at the back?

DAVE

What are you on about?

JACK

The stone lions at the end of the steps. Were they at the front of the house or the back?

DAVE (sarcastically)

I don’t know, Jack. I was too busy avoiding live animals to notice.

Jack closes his eyes and thinks.

JACK

The front. They were at the front. That means the sword is in a room at the front of the house. Come on.

Jack moves at speed through a large set of double oak doors at the other end of the room, throwing them open dramatically, leaving Dave trailing in his wake. They enter a high-ceiling hallway with lots of suits of armour, where the front entrance doors are situated. Jack examines the picture once again and decides on a door to the right of the entrance doors. They enter.

This is the colonel’s armoury. Jack sees the cabinet containing the Sword of Valour and heads for it. His torchlight gleams off the shining sword, which glimmers supernaturally. Jack stops short of the cabinet, reverentially.

JACK

I’ve found it!

Dave hangs back in the doorway and plays his torch over the rest of the room. It is literally lined with modern weaponry of all kinds - racks and racks of machine guns and assault rifles. Dave swallows hard and moves forward, bumping over something and cursing. He points his torch downward and illuminates a huge belt-fed machine gun on a tripod.

DAVE

Tell me these are antiques, Jack.

Jack is already hard at work, jimmying the lock on the sword’s cabinet, oblivious to Dave’s rantings.

JACK

Nearly there.

DAVE (patting Jack’s shoulder like a child trying to get attention)

They don’t look like antiques, Jack. They’re all new and covered in grease. He’s got enough guns in here to equip a small army!

Jack is oblivious. He jimmys the cabinet and it pops open. He steps back and drops the jimmy, preparing himself to pick up the sword. He grins and reaches in.

As he withdraws the sword the room is filled with a searing light. Jack and Dave screw up their eyes and flinch. For a moment we assume the light to be supernatural and coming from the sword, but in a second it passes and powerful vehicle headlights sweep past the front window, followed by several others, accompanied by engine noises and the crunch of tyres stopping on gravel.

5. EXT. COLONEL’S DRIVEWAY

ankle-height view. Military vehicles - Land Rovers and 4-ton trucks, stopping on the drive. Tailboards drop, camouflaged soldiers wearing boots jump out. View moves up and shows green Range Rover stopping beside the convoy. Large man in old WW2-style Denison para-smock gets out, followed by his driver, a bald stocky man in a modern uniform. No faces at this point. The large man stops to don a maroon para beret and straighten it on his head.

Interior, inside the armoury. Dave and Jack cling to each other in terror. Jack keeps hold of the sword as if he might use it to defend himself. They both make a sudden break for the hallway. As they enter the hall, heading out the way they came in, the front doors open dramatically in a flood of light from the parked vehicles, silhouetting the para-smocked figure flanked by a number of armed soldiers in (ostensibly) British Army uniforms, wearing berets and badges rather than helmets. All faces and hands are camouflaged. The para-smocked figure steps forward. His face is striped with camouflage paint too, but he is recognisable as COLONEL SANDERSON from the magazine article. Alongside his Parachute Regiment badge on his beret is another, badge, ‘Monty’ style, that of a white enamel rose. He is grinning.

COLONEL SANDERSON

Well, well, well, gentlemen. It appears we have ourselves a brace of prisoners-of-war!

6. INTERIOR, DINING HALL IN THE MANOR HOUSE, DIMLY LIT.

DAVE and JACK are tied to chairs at the far end of the table (the end they originally came into the room). Their hands are tied behind their backs and their ankles are tied to the chair legs. They look frightened. They are surrounded by soldiers in varying states of uniform - all wear camouflage, but of different patterns. Some look smart, others scruffy. In particular there is one scruffy-looking soldier of about eighteen, NOAKES. In charge is SERGEANT STEEL, the bald driver who arrived with the colonel. He is poking Dave with a sharp-looking commando knife. All the soldiers have camouflage face paint on and look fearsome - in Steel’s case, the paint is smeared all over his head as well.

STEEL (to his men)

Stroke of luck, eh, lads? Not often we get live prisoners of war to practice our torture techniques on!

NOAKES

Can we cut off an ear? You know, like in Reservoir Dogs?

Steel whirls angrily and places the blade of the knife against the throat of NOAKES who freezes, eyes popping out.

STEEL

Like Reservoir Dogs? We’re professional soldiers, you bloody fool. If there’s any ear-cutting to be done, we’ll do it in the style of Bridge Over The River Kwai. Got it?

Noakes nods enthusiastically.

Another soldier leans to talk to a comrade conspiratorially.

SOLDIER 1

I don’t think there was any ear-cutting in Bridge Over The River Kwai.

SOLDIER 2

I think we should do it like Apocalypse Now.

SOLDIER 1

No, you’re thinking of Russian Roulette.

Steel straddles Dave, sitting on his lap, and prods his chest with the knife. Dave whimpers.

DAVE (sobbing)

Please! Please don’t hurt us. We’ll tell you everything, just don’t hurt us. Don’t hurt me, specifically.

JACK (hissing at Dave)

Shut up, Dave. We have no idea what we’re dealing with here.

Steel hears Jack.

STEEL (laughing)

Yes, Dave. Do as your mate says, Dave, and shut up for a bit. That way we get to torture some answers out of you. It’s no fun for us otherwise, eh, lads?

The soldiers laugh in agreement.

Steel dismounts from Dave and walks around the back of Jack. Jack cranes his neck to follow and Steel makes a quick movement to grab Jack’s head, tilting it back and holding a knife to his throat.

STEEL

You seem to be the brains of this outfit, brylcreem boy. So you can start talking straight away while we pull out your mate’s fingernails.

JACK (croaking)

What exactly is it you’d like to know?

STEEL

What outfit are you with? MI5? MI6? Special Branch?

JACK (thinking fast)

Uh, no, none of those. We - we - we want to join you!

Steel is momentarily taken aback. He releases the pressure on Jack’s head for a second, a puzzled look crosses his face, then reapplies the hold.

STEEL

So, you want to join us, eh? What makes you think that we’d want a couple of clumsy burglars in our outfit, eh? Got any military experience?

JACK

Uh, yes. I was a marine.

DAVE

And I was a para!

Steel lets go of Jack’s head and steps back, hands on hips.

STEEL

So! A marine and a para! Well, we are honoured, aren’t we, lads? And with us just being army cadet instructors! Well!

The soldiers laugh.

Steel applies the blade to Dave’s throat in a whip-quick movement. The mood changes appropriately.

STEEL

Question for both of you. Either one gets it wrong, you both die. Which is faster, a yomp or a tab?

Stony silence. Dave and Jack exchange worried, puzzled glances. They obviously have no idea what Steel is talking about.

STEEL

Come on, come on, we’re busy men. Got things to do tonight. It’s an easy enough question for a marine and a para. Which is faster, a yomp or a tab?

(simultaneously)

JACK

A tab?

DAVE

A yomp?

Soldiers erupt into laughter.

(simultaneously again)

JACK

A yomp!

DAVE

A tab!

Soldiers laugh more, even Steel.

DAVE

A womble?

Steel taps the para wings on the arm of his combat jacket, grinning.

STEEL

Paras tab, marines yomp. Each will tell you their method of marching is faster. Real soldiers know these things.

DAVE

But I was an Israeli para!

Steel walks slowly around the two prisoners, shaking his head sadly.

STEEL

I don’t think so. I don’t think you two have even been boy scouts. I don’t think you even know who we are, do you?

JACK (hazarding)

The IRA?

Steel flies into a rage, kneeling on Jack’s lap and thrusting the knife into one of Jack’s nostrils (Jack Nicholson/Chinatown-style). Steel’s eyes bulge and the veins stand out on his neck.

STEEL

The IRA? Do I sound like a bloody Mick? Bloody Hell, of all the insults - I’ll tell you who we are, you wazak, we are -

SANDERSON

The Royal Loyal Militia of the Most Noble County of Yorkshire.

COLONEL SANDERSON has entered the room, carrying the Sword of Valour, and interrupted Steel. All the soldiers snap to attention - Steel climbs off Jack’s lap and does the same, although the knife remains suspended from Jack’s nose. The colonel calmly walks the length of the room and gently takes the knife from Jack’s nose, placing it on the table.

SANDERSON

At ease, gentlemen.

The soldiers relax slightly.

SANDERSON

Sergeant Steel, situation report.

Steel braces again.

STEEL

Sir, we have ascertained, sir, that the prisoners, despite claims to the otherwise, have no previous military experience.

SANDERSON (shaking his head)

I asked you to interrogate these men, sergeant, not interview them. We’re not inspecting their curriculum vitae. I want to know who they are and what they are doing in my house. Have you been torturing them?

STEEL (bracing again)

Sir, no sir!

Sanderson looks around at the other soldiers who look to Steel, who bares his teeth at them, unseen by the colonel.

SANDERSON (to the soldiers)

Has he?

SOLDIERS

Sir, no sir!

SANDERSON (looking back at Steel with a scolding look on his face)

Not even a little bit?

STEEL

Well, sir, maybe just a little .......

The colonel plants the sword into the wooden floor between the two prisoners. It emits a clang and stays upright, quivering. Close up of sword, then focus back on Jack and Dave looking at it, gulping. The colonel walks around the back of Jack and Dave.

SANDERSON

I’ll tell you who they are and what they’re after. (Takes piece of paper from pocket - it is the magazine article - Jack had dropped it) They are common burglars who have come to steal the Sword of Valour. Am I correct?

Jack and Dave nod enthusiastically.

The colonel pokes Jack in the head.

SANDERSON

You. Name.

JACK

Jack Dougan. Listen, I -

The colonel pokes Dave.

SANDERSON

Name.

DAVE

Dave Moore. What are you going to do - ?

SANDERSON (cutting Dave off)

Well, that’s the pleasantries out of the way. Now we know who you are, and you already know who I am (waves magazine article), and I have just told you who we are. But I bet you’re wondering why we are who we are, aren’t you?

Jack and Dave exchange puzzled glances.

The colonel paces back and forth across the room, obviously enjoying the chance to orate to a captive audience.

SANDERSON

A wind of change is sweeping our land, gentlemen. A wind of socialism and republicanism (he says these words as if they leave a bad taste in his mouth). I have fought Britain’s enemies in the South Atlantic, in the Middle East, even on these very shores. I swore my allegiance to the Crown, and the lawful holder of that Crown, not to changeable and disposable governments. Do you have any idea what that allegiance means?

Pause in the speech. Jack and Dave look blank.

The colonel continues, building up to a crescendo.

SANDERSON

No, I don’t suppose you do. Then I will tell you what it means. Once this government introduces its plan to abolish the monarchy, and turn our kingdom into a republic, then who will our oaths be sworn to? A President, like the Americans? Not while I draw breath, gentlemen, nor while any other fine, upstanding, God fearing, spear-throwing Yorkshireman draws breath! It falls upon our broad shoulders the task of saving England!

There is an awkward pause. The colonel is frozen with his fists raised, looking at the ceiling as if awaiting divine inspiration to fill him. Steel begins clapping over-enthusiastically, and indicates to the other soldiers that they should join in, which they do.

Under the cover of the noise of the clapping, Jack leans across to Dave and whispers to him.

JACK

You do realise that we’re doomed? This lot are stark raving mad!

The colonel looks at the soldiers and holds up his hands. The clapping stops.

SANDERSON (fervently)

The time for speeches has come to an end. Tonight, we strike our first blow, across the border into Lancashire, the old enemy! Come, gentlemen, attend to your duties. Destiny awaits!

The soldiers file out. Steel retrieves his knife from the table and makes a manic throat-slashing motion at Jack and Dave, grinning. The colonel comes between Jack and Dave and pulls the sword from the floor. He admires the sword, holding it up to the light as it shines.

SANDERSON (dreamily)

I am like King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone. Are you familiar with the legend, gentlemen?

DAVE

It was a Disney film, wasn’t it? Arthur was a fox or something.

Jack shakes his head in resignation. The colonel ignores or does not hear the remark.

SANDERSON

Arthur’s mission was to save Avalon. We share the same goals, even though we are separated by the gulf of time. Tell me, gentlemen, what does it feel like to be mute witnesses to such events?

JACK (overenthusiastically)

We’d like to join! Wouldn’t we, Dave? (Dave nods) You see, my mother was from Harrogate, and Dave’s mother was from - from -

DAVE

Preston!

JACK (hissing)

Preston’s in Lancashire, you berk! She was from Leeds, right?

DAVE

Yeah, Leeds, that’s right. Ha, what was I thinking of?

The colonel is oblivious. He walks from the room, deep in thought, absently admiring the sword. He stops in the doorway and turns around.

SANDERSON

You understand, of course, what a security threat you pose. I promise it will be quick. I am not a barbarian -

He walks through the door, switches off the lights and closes the door behind him. Close up of the colonel, smirking.

SANDERSON

- unlike my men.

Interior of the dining hall, complete darkness.

DAVE

Jack?

Silence.

DAVE

Jack? Jack?

JACK

Don’t speak to me, Dave, or I swear to God, I’ll find some way of braining you, tied up as I am.

DAVE

But Jack, this is important, really important.

JACK

What is it?

DAVE

I need to go to the toilet, Jack.

7. EXTERIOR, DRIVEWAY, NIGHTTIME, RAINING

Floodlit gravel drive at front of the house. The Royal Loyal Militia of the Most Noble County of Yorkshire is arrayed in parade formation. Behind them are their trucks and the colonel’s Range Rover. There are 30 men stood in three rows of ten, facing the house, SERGEANT STEEL stood on the extreme right front, NOAKES to his left. All the soldiers are in full combat gear with weapons (many Sten-type machine guns, a few rifles) and web equipment. They are all soaking wet, water dripping off noses. Pan across each face, all daubed with camouflage paint, all impassive and professional-looking.