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OUT THE END
 Major Alan "Dutch" Schaefer and his six-man team, consisting of himself, operators Mac Elliot, Billy Sole, and Blaine Cooper, demolitions and explosives expert Jorge "Poncho" RamĂ­rez, and radioman Rick Hawkins, are tasked by the CIA with spearheading the rescue of an official held hostage by insurgents in Val Verde. CIA Agent George Dillon, a former commando and an old friend of Dutch's, is assigned to accompany and supervise the team despite Dutch's reservations. The team is taken to a remote jungle and begins the mission.
They soon discover the wreckage of another chopper and three skinned corpses, whom Dutch identifies as U.S. Army Special Forces he once trained. Pressing on, the team reaches the insurgent camp and kills every single guerilla, including a Soviet intelligence officer searching through top-secret CIA documents. Dillon, confronted by a suspicious Dutch, admits the mission was a setup to retrieve intelligence from captured operatives and that the dead unit disappeared weeks earlier in a failed rescue. Upon capturing a female guerilla named Anna, the group proceeds to extraction, unaware that they are being stalked by a nearly invisible creature who tracks them with thermal imaging.
Hawkins chases a fleeing Anna when they are both suddenly confronted by the creature. The unarmed Anna is spared, but Hawkins is swiftly killed and dragged away. Dutch organizes a manhunt for his body, during which Blaine is killed by the creature's plasma weapon, enraging Mac. An ensuing firefight fails to draw out the creature, so the unit regroups and questions Anna, learning that their stalker is an unknown creature locals call "El diablo cazador de hombres" or "El demonio que hace trofeos de los hombres", meaning "The devil man hunter" and "The demon who makes trophies of men" respectively. The next day, an attempt to trap the creature fails, leaving Poncho badly injured. Mac and Dillon pursue the alien, but it outwits and kills them both.
The survivors try to escape, but the creature catches up, killing Billy and Poncho, and wounding Dutch. Dutch sends Anna to the chopper alone and unarmed, upon realizing the creature does not target unarmed prey because there's "no sport". While being pursued by the alien, Dutch slides down a hill into a river, goes over a waterfall and ends up crawling through a patch of mud, only for the creature to catch up to him; its cloaking device malfunctions in the water, allowing Dutch to finally see his hidden enemy. The alien, though standing a few feet from Dutch, does not see him and moves on. This helps him realize that the mud he is now covered in is acting as camouflage by cooling his skin and blocking his body's heat signature from the alien's thermal sensor. Now seeking to avenge his men, Dutch uses his knowledge of jungle warfare to craft a series of traps. Covered in mud and armed with improvised weapons, he lures the creature in with a war cry.
Utilizing his preparations, Dutch beats the alien at its own game, disabling its cloaking device and inflicting minor injuries. However, the creature rallies itself and finally corners him. Acknowledging Dutch as a worthy foe, the alien discards its mask and plasma weapon, and challenges him to a hand-to-hand fight, where it has a clear advantage. After being brutally beaten, Dutch narrowly defeats the creature by using a counterweight to crush it. Standing over the crippled alien, he asks, "What the hell are you?", but the creature simply repeats back "What the hell are you?" in garbled English before activating a self-destruct device on its wrist, laughing sinisterly as the count down begins. Dutch flees and takes cover just before the self-destruct device explodes in a mushroom cloud.
Dutch, the last man standing, is picked up shortly afterwards by his commander, General Phillips, and finds Anna in the helicopter.
Major Alan Dutch Schaefer and his six-man team , consisting of himself , operators Mac Elliot , Billy Sole , and Blaine Cooper , demolitions and explosives expert Jorge Poncho RamĂ­rez , and radioman Rick Hawkins , are tasked by the CIA with spearheading the rescue of an official held hostage by insurgents in Val Verde . CIA Agent George Dillon , a former commando and an old friend of Dutch s , is assigned to accompany and supervise the team despite Dutch s reservations . The team is taken to a remote jungle and begins the mission . They soon discover the wreckage of another chopper and three skinned corpses , whom Dutch identifies as U.S. Army Special Forces he once trained . Pressing on , the team reaches the insurgent camp and kills every single guerilla , including a Soviet intelligence officer searching through top-secret CIA documents . Dillon , confronted by a suspicious Dutch , admits the mission was a setup to retrieve intelligence from captured operatives and that the dead unit disappeared weeks earlier in a failed rescue . Upon capturing a female guerilla named Anna , the group proceeds to extraction , unaware that they are being stalked by a nearly invisible creature who tracks them with thermal imaging . Hawkins chases a fleeing Anna when they are both suddenly confronted by the creature . The unarmed Anna is spared , but Hawkins is swiftly killed and dragged away . Dutch organizes a manhunt for his body , during which Blaine is killed by the creature s plasma weapon , enraging Mac . An ensuing firefight fails to draw out the creature , so the unit regroups and questions Anna , learning that their stalker is an unknown creature locals call El diablo cazador de hombres or El demonio que hace trofeos de los hombres , meaning The devil man hunter and The demon who makes trophies of men respectively . The next day , an attempt to trap the creature fails , leaving Poncho badly injured . Mac and Dillon pursue the alien , but it outwits and kills them both . The survivors try to escape , but the creature catches up , killing Billy and Poncho , and wounding Dutch . Dutch sends Anna to the chopper alone and unarmed , upon realizing the creature does not target unarmed prey because there s no sport . While being pursued by the alien , Dutch slides down a hill into a river , goes over a waterfall and ends up crawling through a patch of mud , only for the creature to catch up to him ; its cloaking device malfunctions in the water , allowing Dutch to finally see his hidden enemy . The alien , though standing a few feet from Dutch , does not see him and moves on . This helps him realize that the mud he is now covered in is acting as camouflage by cooling his skin and blocking his body s heat signature from the alien s thermal sensor . Now seeking to avenge his men , Dutch uses his knowledge of jungle warfare to craft a series of traps . Covered in mud and armed with improvised weapons , he lures the creature in with a war cry . Utilizing his preparations , Dutch beats the alien at its own game , disabling its cloaking device and inflicting minor injuries . However , the creature rallies itself and finally corners him . Acknowledging Dutch as a worthy foe , the alien discards its mask and plasma weapon , and challenges him to a hand-to-hand fight , where it has a clear advantage . After being brutally beaten , Dutch narrowly defeats the creature by using a counterweight to crush it . Standing over the crippled alien , he asks , What the hell are you ? , but the creature simply repeats back What the hell are you ? in garbled English before activating a self-destruct device on its wrist , laughing sinisterly as the count down begins . Dutch flees and takes cover just before the self-destruct device explodes in a mushroom cloud . Dutch , the last man standing , is picked up shortly afterwards by his commander , General Phillips , and finds Anna in the helicopter .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Predator_(film)
Predator (film)
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<title>HUNTER</title>
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<pre>












<b>                                 "HUNTER"
</b>








                                Written by
                        Jim Thomas and John Thomas












   With Revision #1 (Pink)
   April 17, 1986



   With Revision #2 (Blue)
   April 28, 1986



   With Revision #3 (Yellow)
   May 6, 1986



   With Revision #4 (Green)
   May 20, 1986



   With Revision #5 (Goldenrod)
   January 27, 1987

                                                      April 7, 1986

   With Revision #6 (Goldenrod)
   January 30, 1987



<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b>
<b>                              "HUNTER"
</b>

<b>         FADE IN
</b>

<b>   1     EXT. OUTER SPACE                                       1
</b>
         The infinite blackness punctuated by a billion stars.
         As we slowly DESCEND through the varied shades of blue
         of the Earth's atmosphere, we HEAR the first strains of
         a haunting, Central American FLUTE, joined by a swelling
         background of JUNGLE SOUNDS.  We descend further,
         through a lush JUNGLE CANOPY, backlit by a setting sun.

<b>                                                      DISSOLVE TO:
</b>


<b>   2     EXT. JUNGLE COASTLINE - DAY (MAGIC HOUR)               2
</b>
         Through a collage of shimmering HEAT-WAVES, a dark,
         OTHER-WORLDLY OBJECT drops INTO VIEW, backlit by the
         fiery, ORANGE-RED sphere of a setting tropical SUN,
         heading slowly towards us, floating, as if suspended by
         the rising heat of the jungle.

         Continuing to approach, the shimmering object resolves
         into a MILITARY ASSAULT HELICOPTER, its rotors strobing
         in the fading sunlight.  Drawing closer, the SOUND of
         powerful TURBINES, throbbing in the heavy air, becomes
         dominant, overpowering.

         Guided by COLORED SMOKE and LANDING LIGHTS, the chopper
         looms hard INTO VIEW, pitching forward and settling to
         the ground, kicking up a maelstrom of dust and vegetation



<b>   2-A   INT. COMMAND POST - DAY (MAGIC HOUR)                   2-A  *
</b>
         Where a MAN wearing a military UNIFORM watches through
         the large open windows the helicopter as it continues
         to approach.  Before the skids have even touched down he
         SEES the first of the MEN, dressed in CIVILIAN CLOTHES
         but carrying full COMBAT GEAR, alight gracefully from
         the chopper, double-timing in close order to one side,
         the orders SHOUTED by one man lost in the ROAR of the
         chopper.

         The man turns away from the window, to a FIGURE, hidden     *
         in the shadows.

<b>                                 MAN                                 *   
</b>                  He's here.

         He turns back, lowering a BAMBOO SHADE, obscuring the       *   
         window.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                2
</b>


<b>   2-B   EXT. HELICOPTER PAD - NIGHT                            2-B  *
</b>
         On adjoining PADS, two other HELICOPTERS are VISIBLE; in
         the b.g. can be SEEN several concrete and THATCHWORK
         BUILDINGS, a secret command post disguised as a COASTAL
<b>         FISHING VILLAGE.
</b>
         The post in a flurry of activity, AMERICAN ADVISORS
         shouting directions to dozens of LATIN AMERICAN SOLDIERS
         who stand by to assist the landing helicopter and to
         load EQUIPMENT into the other choppers.

         Inside the chopper, one man remains, stretched out against  *
         the bulkhead, as if asleep.  He stirs, sits up, lighting    *
         up a CIGAR.  With fatigue showing in his motion, he leans   *
         forward, descending to the ground.                          *

         A JEEP pulls to stop, the man swinging casually into the    *
         front seat, tossing his GEAR into the rear.  With a         *
         lurch the jeep heads out towards the command post.          *

         In the doorway TWO MEN solemnly watch as the jeep
         approaches.  Reaching the command post the man alights
         from the jeep, heading towards the two men.

         Into the pool of light cast by the fixture above the
         door steps MAJOR ALAN SCHAEFER, the team leader, 38, an
         intelligent and intense man.  He informally salutes,
         GENERAL H.L. PHILIPS, 55, hardened, close-cropped graying
         hair, his nameplate and insignia identifying him as a
         member of an elite commando unit in the U.S. Army.  He
         clasps Schaefer warmly on the shoulder.

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                         (with affection)
                  You're looking well, Dutch.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  It's been a long time, General.

         They walk up the stairs, entering the palapa, leaving
         the other man on guard.



<b>   3     INT. PALAPA - DAY                                      3
</b>
         Large, two room concrete floor, thatched walls and roof.
         Behind a partially drawn curtain in the kitchen, a naked
         lightbulb hung from the rafters illuminates a bank of
         compact FIELD RADIO EQUIPMENT, MAPS and AERIAL
         PHOTOGRAPHS.  Otherwise the rooms are primitive and
         stand out in stark contrast to this high-tech invasion.

         Philips and Schaefer enter the room.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                3
</b>


<b>   3     CONTINUED                                              3
</b>
<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                         (growing serious)
                  We've got a real problem here,
                  something right up your alley.

         They cross to the center of the room to a folding table,
         covered with a large TOPOGRAPHICAL MAP of the Central
         American highland jungle.  Philips leans over the table,
         circling a set of COORDINATES and a MARK on the open
         map.

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  Eighteen hours ago I was
                  informed that one of our
                  choppers, transporting three
                  presidential cabinet members
                  from this charming little
                  country, was shot down...
                         (point to
                         the circled
                         area)
                  ...The pilots radioed from the
                  ground that they were all
                  alive.  Their position was
                  fixed by the transponder
                  beacon onboard the chopper.
                         (points)
                  Here.

         Schaefer studies the map.  He looks up at Philips.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  That's over the border,
                  General.

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                         (dead serious)
                  That's the problem.  Apparently
                  they strayed off course.
                         (pause)
                  We're certain they've been
                  captured by the guerrillas.

         Schaefer looks up, puffing lightly on the cigar.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (quietly)
                  What have you got in mind,
                  General.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                4
</b>


<b>   3     CONTINUED:  (2)                                        3
</b>
<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  We figure we've got less than
                  twenty-four hours to catch
                  up with them.  After that,
                  there's not much hope.  We
                  want a rescue operation
                  mounted tonight.  That doesn't
                  give you much time.

         Another puff on the cigar.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER   
</b>                  What else it new?  When do
                  we leave?

         Philips looks at his watch.

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  You lift off in three hours.
                         (pause)
                  There's one other thing.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What's that, General?

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  Someone else will be going
                  in with you.

         Schaefer stubbs out his cigar in an ashtray.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You know we don't work with
                  outsiders, General.

<b>                                 VOICE
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  Who said anything about
                  outsiders, Dutch?

         Schaefer turns, SEEING the outline of a figure standing
         in the doorway of the communications room, holding a
         sheaf of PAPERS.

         Wearing pressed fatigues, DILLON, mid-thirties, black,
         walks into the room.

         Although as rugged looking as the others, his bearing
         and grooming indicate he's been away from the business
         of soldiering for sometime.  His quick intelligent eyes
         reveal his current profession.


<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                5
</b>


<b>   3     CONTINUED:  (3)                                        3
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Last time we danced, it was
                  Lieutenant, Schaefer.

         A grin breaks out across Schaefer's face.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Dillon, you son of a bitch.

         The two men step forward and simultaneous swing from
         the hip as it to land a punch...but their hands SLAP
         together in a gesture of friendship, their forearms
         bulging, testing each other's strength.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (warmly)
                  How you been, Dutch?

         They continue the contest, Schaefer has the edge, forcing
         Dillon's arm slowly downward.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You've been pushing too many
                  Pencils, Dillon.  Had enough?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (grinning)
                  No way, old buddy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You never did know when to
                  quit.

         They look into each other's faces, each remembering
         something from the past.  A moment's hesitation and they
         quit the contest.  They laugh, Dillon slapping Schaefer
         on the shoulder.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  That piece of work you guys
                  pulled off at the Berlin
                  embassy last week was really
                  something.  Blew the entry
                  points on three floors and
                  neutralized the opposition
                  in eight seconds flat.
                  Beautiful.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Like the old days, Dillon.


<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                6
</b>


<b>   3     CONTINUED:  (4)                                        3
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Also heard that you passed
                  on that little job in Libya.

         Schaefer looks at Dillon, quietly considering him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Wasn't my style.  We're a
                  rescue unit, not assassins.
                         (smiles)
                  This must be good.  Big shot
                  from the CIA, leaves his desk
                  to come back to the bush.
                  What's so important?

<b>                                 DILLON                                     
</b>                  Those cabinet members are
                  very important to our scope
                  of operations in this part
                  of the world.  They're about
                  to get squeezed.  We can't
                  let that happen.  I needed
                  someone who could get the job
                  done, quick and quiet...no
                  screw-ups.  I needed the best.
                  The best.  So, I pulled a few
                  strings at the State
                  Department...and here we are.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Go on.

         Dillon goes to the map.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  The set-up is simple, Dutch.
                  One day job.  We pick up their
                  trail at the chopper, run 'em
                  down, grab the hostages and
                  bounce back across the
                  border before anyone knows
                  we were there.  You've done
                  it a hundred times.  Nothing
                  out of the ordinary.

         Schaefer considers this.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                7
</b>


<b>   3     CONTINUED:  (5)                                        3
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  And nothing we can't handle
                  alone.

         Philips breaks in.

<b>                                 PHILIPS   
</b>                  I'm afraid those are your
                  orders, Major.  Once you
                  reach your objective, Dillon
                  will evaluate the situation
                  and take charge.

         Schaefer looks from Philips to Dillon.  He still doesn't
         like it.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Not to worry, Dutch.  I
                  haven't lost my edge.  They've
                  got a head start on us in
                  some real tough country,
                  otherwise, believe me, it's
                  a piece of cake.

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  Gentlemen, we're losing time.
                         (to Schaefer)
                  You'd better get your men
                  ready.
                         (pause)
                  Good luck, Major.



<b>   4     EXT. TWO ASSAULT HELICOPTERS - NIGHT                   4
</b>
         Burst over the top of a ridge.  Rising up in silhouette
         they perform a radical left bank turn and descend
         rapidly into an adjoining valley, racing over the
         jungle at treetop level.

         As the helicopters perform dizzying, high-speed
         maneuvers through the winding canyon, the PILOT'S
         VOICES can be HEARD, coordinating their operations.

<b>                                 PILOT ONE
</b>                         (voice over)
                  Redbird Two, Two.  Bearing
                  south, three, five, zero, one
                  o'ckock on the saddle ridge.
                  Over.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                                8
</b>


<b>   4     CONTINUED:                                             4
</b>
<b>                                 PILOT TWO
</b>                         (voice over)
                  Roger, Blue Leader.  Three,
                  five, zero, on your move.
                  Over.

         The helicopters rise in perfect coordination over
         another ridge and bank sharply into the next valley,
         leveling out as they go.



<b>   5     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                                5
</b>
         Illuminated by the eerie red glow of NIGHT LIGHTS, are
         SEVEN MEN, dressed in jungle camouflage, soft hats and
         camouflage face-makeup.  They wear no identity badges
         or insignias.  The man are checking their WEAPONS,
         making last minute adjustments to their GEAR.

         The compartment reverberates with the NOISE of the
         THUMPING ROTORS and the ROAR of air from the open
         doors.

         BLAIN, weapons and ordinance specialist, a frightening
         bull of a man, a 240 pound killer, removes from his
         shirtpocket a think PLUG OF TOBACCO.  He looks across
         at:

         MAC, a huge bear of a man, black, holding am M-60
         MACHINE GUN.  Blain holds out the tobacco to Mac who
         refuses with a gentle shake of the head, a knowing
         smile, he knows what's coming.

         Holding the plug between his teeth Blain yanks free
         from his shoulder scabbard a wicked, ten inch COMBAT
         KNIFE.  Placing the razor sharp blade next to his lips
         he slices through the plug as if it were butter.  He
         chews throughtfully.

         Seated by the open doorway is RAMIREZ, a slight,
         angular man, an East L.A. streetwise Chicano.

         Adding a final piece of camouflage TAPE to his pack
         HARNESS, he looks up and smiles, faking a throw and
         the bulleting the tape to:

         HAWKINS, the radioman and medic, Irish, street-tough,
         reading a rolled-up magazine, as if he were a rush hour
         commuter.  He snags the tape with an instinctual snap

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                           9
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>   5     CONTINUED:                                             5
</b>
         of the wrist, continuing to read for a moment before
         looking up, grinning at Ramirez, his boyish, eager
         face belying the rugged professional beneath.  He
         turns his gaze to the man next to him:

         BILLY, the Kit Carson Scout, an American Indian, proud,
         stoic, a man of quiet strength and simplicity,
         carefully replacing the FIRING MECHANISM of his M-203,
         working its action several times.  He looks up with a
         smile at Hawkins.

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                         (shouting)
                  Hey, Billy, how many marines
                  does it take to eat a squirrel?

         Billy looks back, shaking his head, uncomprehending.

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                  Two.  One to eat it and one
                  to watch for cars.

         Hawkins laughs heartily at his joke.



<b>   6     EXT. JUNGLE - NIGHT                                    6
</b>
         Clearing another ridge, the helicopters plunge into a
         steep descent, turning quickly into a DEEP-WALLED
         CANYON, the force of the turn accentuated by the
         changing PITCH of the screaming turbines and the
         biting of rotors into the air.



<b>   7     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                                7
</b>
         The men, suspended in RESTRAINING HARNESSES from the
         bulkheads, lean forward, nearly upside down in response
         to the radical maneuver, handling the situation with
         ease.

         Blain holds out the tobacco to Ramirez, who swats at
         the offending object as if it were alive.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (shouting)
                  Get that stinkin' thing out
                  of my face, Blain!

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          10
</b>


<b>   7     CONTINUED:                                             7
</b>
         Grinning, Blain proffers the plug to each man, each one
         refusing; they've done it a thousand times.  It's an old
         gag but they obviously care for the man in a big way.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  ...bunch of slack-jawed
                  faggots around here...
                         (holds up plug)
                  ...this stuff will put hair
                  guaranteed...
                         (chewing)
                  ...make you a God-damned
                  sexual ty-ran-toe-sore-ass...
                  just like me.

         This brings a chorus of HOOTS and SHOUTS from the others.
         The helicopter makes another radical turn.

         Schaefer and Dillon, seated near the cockpit, communicate
         through HEADSETS, also linked to the pilot.  They
         consult a TOPOGRAPHICAL MAP by RED PENLIGHTS.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (pointing to
                         the map)
                  Our rendezvous points and
                  radio freqs. are indicated
                  and fixed.  AWACS contact on
                  four hour intervals.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Who's our back-up on this?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (grinning)
                  No such thing, old buddy.
                  It's a one way ticket.
                  Once we cross that border,
                  we're on our own.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  This gets better by the
                  minute.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               11
</b>


<b>   8     INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT                                   8
</b>
         The PILOT and CO-PILOT are surrounded by an array of
         dimly lit GAUGES and SWITCHES.  Before the Co-Pilot is
         a RADAR SCREEN and an INFRA-RED DISPLAY TERMINAL on
         which the TWO HELICOPTERS appear as HEAT SOURCES.

<b>                                 PILOT NUMBER ONE
</b>                  ...roger Bird Two, Two.
                  Reconfirm insertion at Tango,
                  Charlie, Delta One, zero,
                  niner on the grid at zero,
                  two, two, mark four by zero.
                  Over.

<b>                                 PILOT NUMBER TWO
</b>                         (voice over)
                  Two, Two, leader.  Roger your
                  insert co-ord.  Over.

<b>                                 PILOT NUMBER ONE
</b>                  Leader to Bird Two Two.  I
                  bear two minutes to Landing
                  Zone.

         The Pilot throws a SWITCH on the panel before him



<b>   9     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                                9
</b>
         A BLUE LIGHT appears on the forward bulkhead.  Schaefer
         is speaking over a RADIO TELEPHONE.  The Co-Pilot turns
         and hands him a clipboard.  Schaefer reads, notes his
         approval and hands it back.



<b>  10     EXT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                               10
</b>
         Flares up into position over the jungle and hovers, as
         the SUPPORT HELICOPTER holds in a protective position
         above.



<b>  11     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                               11
</b>
         Dillon seems comfortable with the men, showing Ramirez
         a battered CIGARETTE LIGHTER from a famed commando
         unit from the past.

         But his ingratiating demeanor is not impressing Mac, who
         regards Dillon with the cold suspicion reserved for an
         outsider.  Mac looks up at Blain, his eyes narrowing.

         Blain's massive jaws roll as he masticates the chew.
         He pauses, eyes moving downward, spotting his target.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               12
</b>


<b>  11     CONTINUED:                                            11
</b>
         He hocks a thick, vile stream of TOBACCO JUICE directly
         between Dillon's legs and onto the floor, a gelatinous
         skein lacing across the toe of one boot.  Dillon looks
         up, his face goes cold and menacing.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (icy)
                  Man, that's a real bad habit
                  you've got.

         Dillon turns back to Ramirez, ignoring Mac and Blain,
         who continues to stare at him.  Mac looks across at
         Blain, wide grins breaking across their huge faces.
         Cradled in Blain's arms, as if it were a part of his
         body, is a large, CANVAS-COVERED BUNDLE.  Blain looks
         down at his bundle, almost affectionately.

         The PILOT's VOICE breaks in over Schaefer's headset.

<b>                                 PILOT NUMBER ONE
</b>                         (voice over)
                  LZ comin' up in 30 seconds.
                  Stand by the rappel lines.

         Looking up, Schaefer gives a hand signal to the nearest
         man who nods and in return,passes the signal down the
         line.

         Ramirez and Blain pick up heavy, METAL CONICAL DEVICES,
         attached to canvas bags filled with rope.



<b>  12     EXT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                               12
</b>
         From the open doors the RAPPELLING LINES hurtle into
         space, CRASHING through the double canopy of the trees
         and to the jungle floor below.



<b>  13     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT                               13    *
</b>
         The blue light changes to GREEN.  Schaefer nods.
         RAPPELLING DEVICES SNAP into place.  Gloved hands grab
         onto rope.  Combat boots move into position.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (shouting to
                         Schaefer)
                  You don't know how much I
                  missed this, Dutch!!!  Once
                  you get this in your blood,
                  you never get it out!!!

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               13
</b>


<b>  13     CONTINUED:                                            13
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You never were all that
                  smart...let's go!!!

         Schaefer signals.  Men leap from the chopper.



<b>  14     EXT. JUNGLE - NIGHT                                   14
</b>
         The man crash through the trees and are swallowed up by
         the darkness below.  The helicopters depart, THUMPING
         their way into the night.

<b>                                                      DISSOLVE TO:
</b>


<b>  15     EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - DAY (DAWN)                      15
</b>
         A light shower passes through the trees.  The sky
         clears, REVEALING a lush and exotic foliage.  Birds
         are beginning to SING but otherwise, all is SILENT.

         The dense growth seems impenetrable, but from a solid
         wall of undergrowth, a HAND appears and signals in a
         downward motion.

         As if by magic, the assault team materializes, quietly,
         cautiously.  Schaefer makes another gesture and the team
         moves forward in perfect harmony in POINT-LOCK step,
         taking their cue from Ramirez, the pointman.  Schaefer,
         highly focused and alert to every sound and movement,
         follows Ramirez, as if organically connected.



<b>  16     EXT. JUNGLE HILLSIDE - DAY                            16
</b>
         Descending the steep mountain slope, the team encounters
         an even denser growth of jungle, at times moving by
         instinct, as they are often visually separated.  At one
         point, Schaefer checks his COMPASS, flashing some hand
         signals to Ramirez, indicating a new direction.  Ramirez
         nods and moves on, Schaefer signaling to the rest of the
         men.



<b>  17     EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING - DAY                            17
</b>
         Blain, in a defensive position, sweeps the jungle slowly
         with his MP-5.  He steps back and turns, checking,
         revealing in the b.g. the WRECKAGE OF A U.S. ARMY UH-1H
         HELICOPTER, hanging upside down, twenty feet above the
         ground, entangled in vines in the heavy capony, badly
         damaged, rotors bent, its tail section blown away.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/21/86                          14
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  17     CONTINUED:                                            17
</b>
         A GRAPPLING HOOK is hurled from the ground, CLATTERING
         into the cargo hold, hooking the edge of the airframe.



<b>  18     INT. HELICOPTER - DAY                                 18
</b>
         Ramirez moves cautiously, searching for trip wires,
         using his knife to check the edges of the seats and
         door frames.  Grimly he glances at the TWO BODIES
         slumped over the controls and then exits, snapping
         into and rappelling down the rope to the ground.

         He joins Schaefer standing in the f.g.  They look
         up, watching as Dillon moves through the cockpit,
         searching through pockets and compartments.  Schaefer
         turns his back to the helicopter.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  The pilots have each got one
                  round in the head.  And whoever
                  hit it stripped the shit out of it.

         Schaefer studies the clearing, eyes always moving, wary.
         He turns back, looking at the chopper.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Took 'em out with a heat seeker.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ    
</b>                  There's something else, Major...

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Mmmnnn...?

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  I don't think that was any ordinary
                  army taxi...

         Schaefer looks at him quizically.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  ...looks more like a surveillance
                  bird to me.

         Dillon rappells down the line and approaches.

<b>                                 DILLON   
</b>                  Have you picked up their trail yet?

         Schaefer taps Ramirez on the shoulder and he moves
         away.  Schaefer turns to Dillon:

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/21/86                          15
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Billy's on it.
                         (indicates chopper)
                  Heat seeker.  Pretty sophisticated
                  for half-asses mountain boys.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  They're getting better equipped
                  every day.

         Bill approaches from the b.g.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Major, looks like there were ten,
                  maybe twelve guerrillas.  Looks
                  like they took some prisoners
                  from the chopper.
                         (points)
                  Then a different set of track,
                  over there.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (puzzled)
                  What do you mean?

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Six others, U.S. issue jungle
                  boots.  They came in from the
                  north, then followed the guerrillas.

         Schaefer turns to Dillon.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Mean anything to you?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Probably another rebel patrol.
                  They operate in here all the time.

         Schaefer is obviously concerned about this.  He
         turns to Billy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Get ahead, see what you can find.
                         (to Ramirez)  
                  Slow and easy.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/27/86                          16
</b>


<b>  18     CONTINUED:  (2)                                       18
</b>

                                 SCHAEFER (Contd.)
                         (to Dillon)
                  We don't want any accidents.

         Billy takes up the trail, disappearing in to the jungle.
         Ramirez signals, the team moves out.



<b>  19     EXT. JUNGLE - DAY                                     19
</b>
         As Billy reconnoiters, Ramirez looks back and gives a       *
         sign...

         Schaefer nods and rappels down cliff.                       *   

         As he joins Ramirez, there seem to be butterflies           *   
         everywhere --         
<b>         
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER                            *
</b>                  What's he got?

<b>                                 RAMIREZ                             *
</b>                  Same business, guerrillas
                  hauling two guys from the
                  chopper...followed by men
                  with American equipment...

         Ramirez seems concerned by this.  Schaefer signals him to   *
         move on.  Before he follows, Schaefer looks around:  there's*
         something dodgy about this.  He goes.                       *

         Over his head is a butterfly on a limb:                     *



<b>  20     EXT. JUNGLE - OVERHEAD - DAY                          20
</b>
         As the assault team passes below, a BUTTERFLY lands on
         what appears to be the BARK of a TREE.  It fans its wings
         and flies on.

         The impression of the butterfly remains in PERFECT
         RELIEF, as is imprinted on the bark.  The image fades,
         REVEALING for an instant a gridwork of TINY SCALES on
         the bark.

         The bark moves!  Changing colors, like a chameleon,
         REVEALING for an instant the form of something alive
         as it flows into the leaves, once again becoming
         indistinguishable from the surrounding foliage.

         TWO EYES, faintly flowing yellow, appear in the
         foliage.  They blink, disappearing, and then become
         VISIBLE again.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/27/87                          16-A
</b>


<b>  21     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY                             21
</b>
         SEEN THROUGH HEAT-SEEKING VISION, studying the team's
         careful, silent movements at they pass by.

         The SOUNDS of the FOREST are also ALTERED and ENHANCED
         with an electric, STATICLIKE quality.

         The Observer scans over the men...and then focuses
         on Schaefer as he crouches down, signaling forward
         and rear with a circular motion.  He refers to an
         OBJECT in his hand, studying it carefully.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               17
</b>


<b>  22     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                   22
</b>
         Using a MAP in lining out a course on his COMPASS.  The
         other team members appear, silently, clustering around
         him.  Using hand signals, Schaefer indicates a course
         change.



<b>  23     EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY                          23
</b>
         Watches closely as Schaefer continues with his hand
         signals, instructing his team.



<b>  24     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                   24
</b>


<b>  25                                                  OUT      25
</b>


<b>  26     EXT. DENSE UNDERGROWTH - DAY                          26
</b>
         The hillside of a steep valley, dark and foreboding.
         Billy passes by and halts, removing his KNIFE.  With
         his other hand he pulls down from overhead a THICK VINE,
         severing it.  A thin stream of WATER emerges which
         he drinks.

         Suddenly he stops, letting the water drip to the
         ground.  He quietly releases the vine and brings his
         M-203 shotgun to bear, listening intently.  Something
         seems wrong.  He brings his eyes upward and stares,
         hard into the treeline of the opposing hillside.

         As his eyes strain to penetrate the dense, intertwined
         canopy, he is engulfed by the rising SOUNDS of the
         JUNGLE, a cacophony of BUZZING and CLICKING,
         amplified in the sweltering heat of the day.  Unable
         to locate a source to account for his anxiety, he
         relaxes, moving on, resuming the track.



<b>  27     BILLY (MINUTES LATER)                                 27
</b>
         examines the ground as he moves, growing confused
         and puzzled by what he sees before him.  He stops,
         scrutinizing the jungle, probing the world around him
         with his keen senses.

         HEARING a faint RUSTLING SOUND he looks up, SEEING a
         curtain of MOSS several feet away.  He takes a cautious
         step forward, extending his weapon.  He reaches
         forward with his free hand, touching the moss.

         Behind the curtain a slight shifting of DARK FORMS
         occurs.  He pauses and then with a sudden movement,
         sweeps the moss aside...

         A BLACK EXPLOSION of FLUTTERING WINGS as carrion-eating
         BIRDS rush past Billy's body.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               18
</b>


<b>  27     CONTINUED:                                            27
</b>
         Billy's face seizes into a mask of horror, his
         expression descending into a state of complete,
         primitive shock, his eyes staring transfixed, inches
         away from the leering death-grin of a HUMAN FACE,
         upside down, completely stripped of skin.

         Reeling, his body numbed by the sight before him,
         he stumbles backwards and stops.

         Vines threaded through their achilles tendons, the
         BODIES OF THREE MEN, skinned and gutted, hang
         suspended in the think, suffocating air, BUZZING
         with insects.

         Billy turns away, revulsed as Ramirez moves quietly
         INTO VIEW, Schaefer directly behind him.  Ramirez
         stares at the bodies, now seen to be in the first
         stages of deterioration, strips of flesh torn away
         by the birds and other scavengers.  In an almost
         childlike manner, he crosses himself.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ   
</b>                         (hoarse whisper)  
                  Holy Mother...

         Schaefer moves into the clearing, kneeling beside
         a bloody pile of CLOTHING and ENTRAILS.  He examines
         the clothing and then rises, holding a DOG TAG on
         a broken chain.  He reads the tag, his face growing
         hardened and bitter as he stares down at the tag,
         recognizing the name.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to himself)
                  J.S. Davis, Captain, U.S. Army...

         Schaefer's eyes move from the bloody dog tag to
         the bodies.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER   
</b>                         (coldly)  
                  Mac.  Cut them down.

         Mac moves forward, withdrawing his COMBAT KNIFE.
         The blade flashes, cutting the vine as the first
         body THUDS to the ground.  He bends over, picking up
         other DOG TAGS.

         Schaefer turns to Dillon.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUING)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/19/86                          19
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  27     CONTINUED:  (2)                                       27
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I knew this man.  Green Berets,
                  out of Fort Bragg.  What the hell
                  were they doing in here?  You got
                  any answers for this, Dillon?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (stunned)
                  Jesus...this is inhuman.
                         (to Schaefer)
                  Uh...I wasn't told of any
                  operations in this area.  They
                  shouldn't have been here.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (angry)
                  Well somebody sent them.

         Schaefer walks off.  Mac steps out of the clearing,
         sheathing his knife with a violent gesture, passing
         Ramirez.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (seething)
                  Must have run into the guerrillas
                  ...Fucking animals.

         Mac moves alongside Blain.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (spits)
                  Ain't no way for a soldier to
                  die.
                         (looks at Blain)
                  Time to let 'ol 'painless'
                  out of the bag.

         Grimly, Blain RIPS apart the velcro closures of the
         CANVAS BUNDLE slung across his shoulder, REVEALING
         a truly awesome weapon, a SIX-BARRELED MINI-GUN adapted
         for field combat.



<b>  28     EXT. BILLY - DAY                                      28
</b>
         Kneels at the side of the original trail examining the
         ground.  He rises, holding a spent CARTRIDGE.  Schaefer
         approaches, kneeling beside him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What happened here, Billy?

         Billy looks at him, puzzled.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/20/86                          20
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  28     CONTINUED:                                            28
</b>
<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Strange, Major.  There was a
                  firefight.  Shooting in all
                  directions.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I can't believe Jim Hopper
                  walked into an ambush.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  I don't believe he did, Sir.
                  I couldn't find a single track.
                  Just doesn't make sense.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What about the rest of Hopper's
                  men?

         Billy shakes his head.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                         (uncomfortably)
                  No sign.  They never left here
                  Major.
                         (pause)
                  It's like they just disappeared.

         Schaefer ponders a moment.  Then, to Billy:

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Stick with the guerilla trail.
                         (to team)
                  Let's get it over with.  We move.
                  Five meter spread.  No sound.
                  Nothing.

<b>                                                      CUT TO:
</b>


<b>  28-A   EXT. BLAIN - DAY                                      28-A
</b>
         Blain feeds the magazine of BELTED-SHELLS into the
         weapon, cocking it.  He looks up at Mac, his eyes
         cold, his face taut with anger.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  Payback time.

         Blain hefts the Mini-gun to his hip as Mac draws back
         slightly on the breech bolt of the M-60, letting it
         snap.

         They move on, Billy pausing to look at the jungle
         before disappearing into the foliage.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/20/86                          21
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  29     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY                             29
</b>
         carefully watching this exchange from high in the
         treetop canopy.  The Observer watches as Schaefer
         turns and leaves the clearing, cautiously moving
         into the jungle.



<b>  30     EXT. JUNGLE HILLSIDE - DAY                            30
</b>
         Mac appears suddenly, materializing out of the
         undergrowth, pausing cautiously, his senses alert,
         intense, almost nervous.  He moves on, his huge body
         barely making a sound as he weaves through the heavy
         undergrowth.

         Dillon appears.  As he moves on, he crosses over a
         fallen TREE.  Stepping down, his foot breaks through
         a rotten portion, a CHUCK of the log breaking free
         and rolling down the hill.

         Dillon at once goes into a defensive position,
         listening.  The jungle is SILENT.  He stands and
         starts to move forward.  Suddenly Mac appears
         within inches of Dillon's face.  Mac's face is
         menacing, angry.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               22
</b>


<b>  30     CONTINUED:                                            30
</b>
<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (hissing; barely
                         audible)
                  You're ghostin' on me, mother
                  fokaaa!...I don't care who
                  you are back in the world...
                  You give away our position
                  again and I'll bleed you quiet
                  and leave your fuckin' ass
                  right here.
                         (hisses; spits)
                  Got it?

         Dillon's eyes are wide and fixed, staring back in
         cold hatred at Mac, controlling his rage...he knows
         the rules.

         Not waiting for a response, Mac turns and vanished
         into the jungle.  Seething with anger Dillon
         focuses on a still moving LEAF and STEM, indicating
         Mac's exit point.  He moves on.



<b>  31     EXT. BLAIN - DAY                                      31
</b>
         Crouches under heavy foliage, waiting.  He is
         joined by Mac.  They glance briefly at each other,
         scanning in opposite directions for movement and
         sounds.  They speak in whispers.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  Say, Bull.  What's goin' down?
                  We got movement?

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  No.  Shithead with his
                  trenchcoat and dee-coda-da
                  ring was makin' enough noise
                  to get us all waxed.  I don't
                  like that guy.  Don't like
                  him at my back.  I ain't
                  winding up like those
                  bastards back there.

         Mac, sweating heavily, wipes the moisture from
         his brow with his finger.

         Blain pats the mini-gun affectionately.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  I know what you mean, Bull,
                  but don't sweat it, me and
                  'ol 'painless' here are
                  watchin' the front door.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               23
</b>


<b>  31     CONTINUED:                                            31
</b>
<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  As always, bro...

         They do a gentle fist dap and smile warmly at
         each other.  Two men who have seen it all,
         through a dozen no-win situations, and have lived
         to tell about it.

         Mac advances a few meters and signals slowly.



<b>  32     EXT. KNOLL                                            32
</b>
         The assault team moving up the hill, barely
         visible in the heavy foliage, the team moves
         cautiously into defensive positions.  Holding.
         A moment later they continue up the hill,
         crawling.

         On their stomachs, Schaefer and Ramirez clear
         the edge of the knoll, SEEING below a GUERRILLA
         VILLAGE, a huge, spreading PALAPA covering
         implacements dug into a hillside, descending
         to a winding stream bed below.  30 MEN, dressed
         in a mixture of jungle fatigues and civilian
         clothes, armed with AK-47 ASSAULT RIFLES move
         about the camp.  A heavy MACHINE GUN emplacement
         guards the entrance to the camp.  TWO MEN sit
         in the camouflaged emplacement.



<b>  33     SCHAEFER                                              33
</b>
         sweeping the camp with BINOCULARS, SEES a
         GUARD above the camp.  One of the man picks up
         a hand-held ROCKET LAUNCHER, placing it beside
         a bandolier of ROCKETS and a RADIO SET and
         CONSULS taken from the U.S. surveillance
         helicopter as if preparing to take them away.

         Schaefer puts down the glasses, looking at
         Ramirez who nods in acknowledgment.  A sudden
         MUFFLED CRY brings Schaefer's attention to one
         end of the camp, where a heavily thatched DOOR
         covers and opening to the PALAPA.  A GUARD
         stands at the door.

         The door flies open as a HOSTAGE, shirtless,
         hands tied behind his back, staggers through
         the door as if kicked from behind.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          24
</b>
<b>  
</b>
<b>  33     CONTINUED                                             33
</b>
         The man falls to the ground, feebly trying to regain
         his footing.  Although difficult to see from Schaefer's
         vantage point, the man's battered face and welt-covered
         back indicate he has been severely tortured.

         Emerging from the palapa, a GUERRILLA LEADER,
         moustached and wearing a SIDEARM, approaches the
         beaten man, kicking him viciously in the stomach,
         rolling him to his side.

         Kneeling beside the man he withdraws an AUTOMATIC from
         his holster and cocks the hammer.  Grabbing the man by
         the hair he jams the muzzle into the man's ear and with
         a violent twist, pulls the trigger.

         The guerrilla leader stands and strides quickly back
         to the palapa, still holding the pistol, closing the
         door behind him.



<b>   34    SCHAEFER                                              34 
</b>
         grim-faced at having witnesses the murder, lowers him
         glasses, a look of cold determination on his face.
         Quickly he and Ramirez ease down the escarpment,
         joining the other team members.

         Schaefer makes a circling motion with his thumb
         and the team members gather in close, huddle formation.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (whispering; angry)
                  Just killed one of the                             *
                  prisoners.  No time for                            *
                  invitations.  We take them,
                  now.



<b>  35     EXT. BLAIN AND MAC - DAY                              35
</b>
         Crawl silently through the underbrush.  With nearly
         impreceptible movements, Blain slips out of the
         cartridge pack, ditching the Mini-gun.  He withdraws
         his COMBAT KNIFE, placing it between his teeth.

         They move through the underbrush in tandem, like
         two bug cats, stalking.  Mac freezes, the sweat
         pouring from his face, holds up his hand as Blain
         stops.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b> 
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               25
</b>


<b>  35     CONTINUED:                                            35
</b>
         Using a BLADE OF GRASS, Mac points out a metal TRIP
         WIRE, following it to a hidden CLAYMORE MINE.  Blain
         grins making a switching GESTURE.  Carefully Mac
         detaches the LEAD WIRES.  Directing the mine towards
         the camp, he reattaches the wires, nodding at Blain.



<b>  36     EXT. JUNGLE - OVERHEAD - ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY         36
</b>
         SEEN THROUGH HEAT-SEEKING VISION, FOCUSED ON Blain
         and Mac, lying in the grass below, their bodies
         outlined in LUMONOUS AUREOLES.  The Observer SEES the
         NETWORK of TRIP WIRES guarding the approaches to the
         machine gun nests.  The wires GLOW as if ELECTRIFIED,
         standing out in hard-edged relief in contrast to
         the jungle foliage.  He moves higher into the forest
         canopy.



<b>  37     EXT. BILLY - DAY                                      37
</b>
         On Schaefer's signal rises up, pulling a SENTRY to
         him, covering his mouth with his hand, jerking him
         backwards and to the side, knocking him off balance
         with a sweeping motion of his left leg, killing him
         with his COMBAT KNIFE.



<b>  38     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                   38    *
</b>
         Belly crawls silently through the tall grass just
         outside and above the main entrance to the camp.  He
         stops, studying the ancient, rusted skeleton of a
         TRUCK parked on a level spot above the camp, its
         engine quietly IDLING.  The truck is jacked and
         blocked up, one rear wheel attached to a belt-drive
         leading to a PUMP, drawing water from a river nearby.
         In the open cab of the truck a GUARD is on duty,
         watching the high ground above the camp.

         Schaefer moves out, heading for the guard.



<b>  39     EXT. MACHINE GUN EMPLACEMENT - DAY                    39
</b>
         While one Guerrilla attends to his equipment, the
         OTHER attentively watches the approaches to the camp.
         He is momentarily distracted by a BUZZING FLY, which
         he annoyingly swats at with his hand.

         He hears something to his side.  Turning to investigate,
         the huge, hamhock fist of Mack smashes into his throat.

         Simultaneously, Blain rises up behind the other man,
         grabs him by the hair, pulling him down, his COMBAT
         KNIFE driving downward.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               26
</b>


<b>  40     EXT. TRUCK - DAY                                      40    *
</b>
         A SATCHEL CHARGE is looped over the gearshift lever,
         resting on the floorboard.  Schaefer, lying low
         across the seat of the truck, turns and looks, SEEING
         the guard, lying in a heap in the foliage.



<b>  40-A   EXT. RAMIREZ - DAY                                    40-A  * 
</b><b>  
</b>         Moves into position to the side and above the camp.
         He carefully checks the readiness of his SIX-SHOT
         GRENADE LAUNCHER, also setting his MP-5 in front of
         him, ready for action.



<b>  41     EXT. SCHAEFER                                         41    *   
</b>

         Crouched to the side of the truck, watches the camp,
         SEEING below through the dense undergrowth, Ramirez,
         barely visible, signaling.

         Before him are two FRAGMENTATION GRENADES.  He looks
         at his watch, and then up the hill to:



<b>  41-A   DILLON AND HAWKINS                                    41-A  *
</b>
         their weapons ready.  Dillon picks up his binoculars,
         focusing on the machine gun emplacement, seeing a MAN,
         his face covered by a HAT.  The head rises, REVEALING
         the face of Blain, who looks above the camp and
         slightly nods.  Putting his glasses down, motions
         to Hawkins.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (to Hawkins)
                  Ready, kid?

         Hawkins grins back.  Together they slip through the
         grass, downward towards the edge of the camp.



<b>  42-                                                 OUT      42-
</b>


<b>  43                                                           43
</b>


<b>  44     EXT. SCHAEFER                                         44    *
</b>
         Holds his huge, COMMANDO MACHETE on a diagonal,
         pushing through the belt, slicing it cleanly.  Turning
         he crawls silently to the rear of the truck,
         positioning himself behind the rear of the one ton
         truck.

         He squats, and with an enormous, concentrated effort,
         deadlifts the rear of the truck, its rusted springs
         and frame beginning to CREAK and GROAN slightly.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               27
</b>


<b>  44     CONTINUED:                                            44
</b>
         With a herculean effort he lifts the truck free of
         its blocks and then pushes forward.  He rolls aside,
         disappearing into the ground cover as the truck, its
         tireless rims digging into the earth, lops down the
         hill, slowly picking up speed.



<b>  45     EXT. GUERRILLA VILLAGE - DAY                          45
</b>
         A Guerrilla, alerted by the SOUND of the approaching
         truck, looks up at the hillside, SEEING the vehicle
         still moving down the hill at a moderate roll.  He
         CALLS OUT and several Guerrilla leaves their posts,
         moving out to prepare to stop the truck.

         The truck rolls into the clearing picking up speed,
         heading towards the main palapa.  The men rush
         forward, surrounding the truck, trying to slow it
         down, but the truck rolls, SMASHING through the front
         wall of the palapa.  The men gather around truck
         and then look back up the hill.



<b>  46     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY                             46    *
</b>
         Watching as Schaefer pulls the pin and launches the
         GRENADE into the air, the Observer following its
         arc as it spirals dead-center into the camp, bouncing
         twice before rolling into the FUEL DUMP...which a
         moment later, EXPLODES into an incredible FIREBALL.

         The expanding FIREBALL released from the explosion
         is to the Observer like an erupting sun, momentarily
         blinding him.



<b>  47     EXT. GUERRILLA CAMP - DAY                             47
</b>
         The truck is BLOWN up into the air by the explosion...
         a moment later the satchel charge DETONATES with an
         ear-splitting EXPLOSION, tearing the truck apart.



<b>  48     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                   48
</b>
         Jumps to his feet, FIRING an M-203 round into the
         camp.



<b>  49     EXT. KNOLL - DAY                                      49
</b>
         Schaefer races down the hillside, joined by Dillon,
         leaving Hawkins to cover them.  Bullets burst around
         their feet as they run low, firing short bursts to
         his left and right.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               28
</b>


<b>  49     CONTINUED:                                            49
</b>
         He FIRES the undermounted GRENADE LAUNCHER, sending a
         round into a gun position in the trees.  Still running
         he breaks open the breach, slamming in another 40mm
         ROUND from the cartridge pack at his waist.

         Blain and Mac fire the heavy machine guns, laying down
         a withering curtain of lead, shredding the camp,
         taking out five Guerrillas at once.



<b>  50     EXT. GUERRILLA CAMP - DAY                             50
</b>
         A MAN almost completely ON FIRE is hit by an onslaught
         of GUNFIRE, ripping him back into the jungle.

         Ramirez cuts loose a barrage from the SIX-SHOOTER...
         seconds later the MACHINE GUN IMPLACEMENT erupts in
         a series of EXPLOSIONS, blowing two Guerrillas into
         the air.

         At the HILLSIDE HUT, two Guerrillas move into position
         by the window, drawing down on Schaefer as he appears,
         racing down the hill.

         As they are about to open fire, Dillon appears,
         YELLING OUT a warning.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  On your nine!!!

         Schaefer dives, hitting the ground as Dillon OPENS
         FIRE taking out the Guerrillas.  Schaefer rolls to
         his feet, spins, firing the 203 grenade launcher,
         completely destroying the hut.



<b>  51     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY                             51
</b>
         As the Observer regains its vision an eerie, surreal
         experience of sight and sound unfolds:

         BULLETS streak through the air, leaving blood-red
         trails of HEAT, like laser blasts.  As they impact
         into the Guerillas, we HEAR the enhanced SLAPPING
         of BULLETS, SEEING tiny blossoms of HEAT mushroom
         out of their bodies.

         We HEAR the horrific, deformed CRIES and SCREAMS
         of the dying men.

         Another searing, blinding EXPLOSION sends pieces of
         SHRAPNEL ripping through the air, some of them
         ROARING past the Observer's position, like tiny
         meteors.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               29
</b>


<b>  52     EXT. GUERRILLA VILLAGE                                52    *
</b>
         at the entrance way to the main palapa, a Guerrilla
         stands in the doorway, giving COVER FIRE to his comrades
         as they fall back inside.

         Jumping from the roof of the adjoining palapa, Billy
         drops directly in front of the Guerrilla.

         From the side, unseen by Billy, another Guerrilla           *
         thrusts out with a knife, Billy ducking backwards, the
         tip of the knife SLASHING his face.  With a lightning
         move, Billy whips his arm up and around the Guerrilla,
         locking his elbow, breaking the joint.

         Still holding the man he FIRES, blowing the other
         Guerrilla off his feet with the SHOTGUN portion of his
         weapon.  He looks at the Guerrilla out of the corner of
         his eye.  He suddenly strikes, breaking his neck,
         dropping him in a heap.

         Billy continues on, racing down the stairs, firing the
<b>         M-203.
</b>
         Meanwhile, Blain is crouched next to a tree, providing      *
         cover.  Behind Blain, at the edge of the camp, circling
         around from below, TWO GUERRILLAS appear and FIRE a
         grenade round which EXPLODES behind Blain, fragments
         ripping into the tree next to which Blain is standing,
         bark and dirt flying as shrapnel rips into his vest, one
         piece tearing into his upper shoulder.  The hits have
         no effect on the huge man and with a savage GROWL, he
         spins, opening fire, raking the two attackers with the
         Mini-gun.

         Nearby, Mac charges from the jungle on a dead run,
         diving over a fallen tree as machine gun FIRE rakes the
         ground around him.

         Blain, spotting the sniper high in a tree, opens FIRE
         with the MINI-GUN, shredding the tree, sending the
         Guerrilla crashing down through the roof of the
         palapa.



<b>  53     INT. PALAPA - DAY                                     53
</b>
         The sniper CRASHES through the roof, landing on the
         floor near Hawkins and Ramirez who do a quick double
         take before opening fire on a group of fleeing
         Guerrillas, taking out two, giving chase to the others.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               30
</b>


<b>  53     CONTINUED:                                            53
</b>
         Schaefer and Dillon appear at the top of the staircase,     *   
         Schaefer freezing as he SEES below a Guerrilla raising
         an AK-47, preparing to fire.  Schaefer tackles Dillon,
         the two men hurling into the air, a moment later BULLETS
         ripping into the CRATES behind where they were standing.

         Dillon rises up, kicking over a crate, shooting the         *
         Guerrilla who is trying to bring the gun around to fire
         at him.

         Schaefer crouches, covering the upper entrances to the      *   
         palapa, as Ramirez rushes past, joining Schaefer.  From
         the corner of his eye, Schaefer catches a movement.
         With a whipping, backhanded throw, he lets fly his
<b>         COMMANDO MACHETE...
</b>
         The machete impales the attacking Guerrilla, driving him    *   
         backwards, pinning him to a post.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Stick around.

         Schaefer and Ramirez run towards the lower levels, side
         by side, firing as they go.

         They reach a door, Schaefer taking out an ATTACKING
         Guerrilla.  Ramirez grabs the side of the door, shoots
         a look to Schaefer and throws it open.  With Schaefer
         covering him, Ramirez takes a quick peak inside and
         then rushes into the room.

<b>         
</b>
<b>  53-A   INT. ROOM - DAY                                       53-A
</b>
         At one end is a STAIRWAY, leading to an escape door.
         A Guerrilla, seen from the waist up, scrambles down
         the stairs.

         At the base of the stairs, a Guerrilla, holding an
         AK-47 on his hip, turns and starts to fire.

         Schaefer and Ramirez respond with full AUTO BURSTS
         which rip into the Guerrilla, spinning him around,
         knocking over a crude WOODEN TABLE, scattering a
         BRIEFCASE with burning PAPERS, FOOD CANS, and LIQUOR
<b>         BOTTLES.
</b>
         As he spins he FIRES the weapon, an arcing line of SLUGS
         slamming into the tin roof, sending down a shower of
         rust and dirt.  He falls to the ground.  Dead.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               31
</b>


<b>  53-A   CONTINUED:                                            53-A
</b>
         Ramirez charges through the DUST and thick SMOKE to
         cover the fallen men; Schaefer following close behind,
         jerking a new CLIP from his ammo belt.

         Suddenly, another Guerrilla erupts from behind some
         ammunition crates, drawing down on Ramirez with a
         machine pistol.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (shouting)
                  Down!!!

         As the Guerrilla fires, Schaefer smashes the butt of
         his empty weapon into the Guerrilla's shoulder, knocking
         the gun aside, the SLUGS thudding into the wall
         harmlessly.

         He hits the Guerrilla with a vicious glancing blow to
         the head with the barrel of his weapon.  The Guerrilla
         is hurled backward, crashing into the wooden crates and
         to the floor.

         Ramirez, recovering quickly, descends the stairs with
         catlike agility, disappearing.

         Schaefer crouches and spins, jamming a new clip into the
         rifle, scanning the palapa for any other movement.  He
         races to the main door of the room, shouting into the
         palapa.

         He SEES Blain charging down the steps.  Catching his
         attention he signals him on, out the back to cover
         Ramirez.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to Hawkins)
                  Hawk, Get Con. Op. on the
                  hook!  Position and situation,
                  now!

         As Blain runs down the stairs, Hawkins already has the
         radio off his back, setting up the portable SATELLITE
<b>         DISH ANTENNA.
</b>
<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                  You got it, Major!
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          32
</b>


<b>  53-B   EXT. PALAPA - WATER AREA - DAY                        53-B
</b>
         Ramirez, Blain and Billy race down the back stairs
         of the palapa, FIRING Mini-gun, automatic and grenade
         rounds at the escaping GUERRILLAS as they flee the area,
         splashing, charging across the shallow river.

         The guerrillas are history...in no uncertain terms.



<b>  53-C   INT. PALAPA - DAY                                     53-C
</b>
         For the first time, Schaefer studies the interior of
         the cavernous palapa, SEEING the enormous stockpile
         of WEAPONS, EQUIPMENT and SUPPLIES stacked along the
         walls, obviously a major military stronghold hidden
         deep within the mountains.  Mac hustles up to Schaefer,
         a look of urgency on his face.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Any sign of the hostages?

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (nods)
                  We found 'em both, dead.
                  And the gear from the chopper.
                  If they're Central American,
                  I'm a fuckin' Chinaman.  By                        *
                  the looks of 'em, I'd say our                      *
                  cabinet minister and his aide                      *
                  are CIA.
                         (pause)
                  Another thing, Major, we were
                  lucky...couple of those guys
                  we waxed are Russians,
                  military advisors by the look
                  of it.  Something big was
                  about to happen here.

         Schaefer looks at Mac a moment, a flush of anger
         beginning to show.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Good work, Mac.  Clear the
                  area, no traces.  Get the men
                  ready to move.

         Schaefer goes back into the room, looking down at the
         unconscious guerrilla, racking a round into the
         chamber, reloading his weapon.

         He kneels, staring into the FACE of a WOMAN, ANNA,
         dark, late twenties.  Despite her blood and
         dirt-smeared face, she is beautiful.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               33
</b>


<b>  53-C   CONTINUED:                                            53-C
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (closes eyes)
                  Shit...

         He checks her pulse and then slowly he bends to pick
         up her PISTOL, ejecting the clip.  He stands, beginning
         to shuffle through the PAPERS scattered about the room.
         Staring at one he looks up, the pieces falling together.



<b>  54     EXT. JUNGLE - DAY                                     54
</b>
         Ramirez, at a crouch, runs through the jungle,
         following the obvious signs of the Guerrilla's
         retreat.  He emerges from the trees into an opening,
         leading to a sheer rock cliff, towering fifty feet
         above the ground.  Scanning the wall, he SEES
         movement and quickly takes cover, as automatic
         FIRE rips up the ground before him.



<b>  54-A   EXT. ROCK WALL - DAY                                  54-A
</b>
         Near the center of which a narrow cut, two feet
         wide, leads to the top of the cliff, giving access
         to the adjoining ridge.

         Two Guerrillas scramble up through the chimney,
         assisted by a ROPE, which with withdraw as they
         reach the top.  Ramirez takes out one man, the
         other taking cover, returning fire.



<b>  54-B   EXT. BASE OF ROCK WALL - DAY                          54-B  *
</b>
         Blain joins Ramirez, behind cover at the foot of
         the cliff.  As they take cover, Ramirez notices
         the wound on Blain's shoulder.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  You're hit.  You're bleedin',
                  man.

         Blain looks briefly at the wound.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                         (spits)
                  Ain't got time to bleed.

         On a signal, they both clear cover and fire LONG
         BURSTS from their weapons up the cliff.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               34
</b>


<b>  54-B   CONTINUED:                                            54-B
</b>
         The smoke is hardly cleared when they are answered
         by withering FIRE.  They duck down as a grenade
         EXPLODES nearby.  Ramirez quickly replaces the 40MM
         rounds into the SIX-SHOOTER.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  Son of a bitch's dug in like
                  a Alabama tick...
                         (spits)
                  ...jack us around all day.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Hell, dude, we don't have all
                  day.

         Ramirez immediately rolls into the line of fire,
         BLASTING six RAPID-FIRE shots on a HIGH-ARC trajectory
         towards the rocks.  Blain reacts.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  Shit, Pancho!!!

         Blain dives against the protective cover of the
         rock wall, covering his head.  Ramirez casually
         hops across, squatting next to Blain.  They make
         eye-contact.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  What's your problem, dude?

         Before Blain can answer, Ramirez puts his fingers
         into his ears and grimaces just as...

         The entire hillside EXPLODES, blowing the Guerrillas
         into the air, a torrent of vegetation and earth
         raining down the cliff, obscuring Blain and Ramirez.



<b>  55     INT. PALAPA ROOM - DAY                                55
</b>
         Schaefer is staring out the window, his weapon slack
         in one arm, still holding the paper.  Dillon enters,
         obviously excited about what he has found.  He sees
         the papers on the floor.  He reads through them
         quickly, growing even more excited.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  This is beautiful!  More than
                  we ever thought.  We got the
                  bastards!

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          35
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  55     CONTINUED:                                            55
</b>
         Schaefer turns, striding slowly to Dillon, handing him
         the paper he is holding.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I think this is the one you want.

         Dillon reads it.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (reacting)
                  Two days...that's all we had.
                  In two days, three hundred of
                  these bastards would have been
                  equipped with all this.  After
                  they crossed the border, it
                  would have taken a year to
                  stop them.
                         (looks up)
                  We've averted a major
                  guerrilla invasion, Dutch...

         Schaefer moves in close to Dillon, face to face,
         anger flaring in his eyes.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (slow; deliberate)
                  It was all bullshit.  All of it.
                  From the start...you set us up,
                  got us in here to do your
                  dirty work.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (angry)
                  That's right, I set you up.
                  You're a veteran at this, Dutch,
                  I had to.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Why us?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Because I told you, you're the
                  best.  I knew you could do it but
                  I couldn't get you in here without
                  a cover story.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What story did you give to Davis?

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          36
</b>


<b>  55     CONTINUED:  (2)                                       55
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  We've been lookin' for this
                  place for months.  The chopper
                  must have gotten close when
                  they got shot down.  Hopper                        *
                  was sent in to get my men.
                  He was just doing his job.
                  When he disappeared I had to
                  clean this up,  I had to stop
                  there bastards.  We were so
                  close, we couldn't quit.  We
                  couldn't sleep through this
                  one.  I needed you, Dutch,
                  can't you see that?

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  To invade a foreign country,
                  illegally?  You lied, Dillon.
                  Stacked the odds against us.  Set
                  us up.  You could have gotten
                  us all killed.
                         (pause; looking at him)
                  You used to be one of us,
                  Dillon, someone I could trust
                  with my life...

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  We've been through a lot together
                  Dutch.  When we were together, no                  *
                  one could stop us, the hottest                     *
                  Goddamned team the army ever saw.                  *
                  But things changed, I woke up.
                  We're fighting them in a dozen
                  Goddamned countries.  It's a
                  fight we can't lose, Dutch.  We're
                  all expendable assets, can't you
                  see that?

         Schaefer takes the paper from Dillon's hands.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  That's your problem, Dillon.
                  You always did put ambition
                  before the lives of your men.
                         (pause)
                  My men are not expendable.  I
                  don't do this kind of work.
                         (crumples up
                         paper in fist)
                  This is your dirty little war,
                  not mine.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          37
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  55     CONTINUED:  (3)                                       55
</b>
         He stuffs the crumpled paper into Dillon's shirt
         pocket.

         Anna, regaining consciousness, GROANS, a heavy flow
         of blood running down her face from her head wound.

         Hawkins appears at the door.

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                  Major!

         Schaefer turns away from Dillon and steps through
         the doorway into the palapa as Anna moans again,
         MUMBLING something in Spanish.  Dillon kneels,
         beside her.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (quietly; in Spanish)
                  Are you all right?



<b>  55-A   INT. PALAPA - DAY                                     55-A
</b>
         Schaefer is talking to Hawkins who has the field
         radio set on a crate just outside the door.

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                         (urgent)
                  Major, we stepped into some
                  real shit here.  I got a hook-up
                  with aerial surveillance.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Movement?

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          38
</b>


<b>  55-A   CONTINUED:                                            55-A
</b>
<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                         (nods)
                  Guerrillas swarming like flies                     *
                  all over the place.  Can't be more                 *
                  then one, maybe two miles away.                    *
                  Place is going down, Major.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  How much time?

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                  Half an hour, maybe less.                          *

         Schaefer touches him on the shoulder.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (urgently)
                  Tell Mac we move in five.

         He starts to walk away.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  She goes with us.

         Schaefer turns.  Dillon is at the doorway, supporting
         the still groggy Anna.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  She's too valuable.  She's
                  got to know their whole
                  network.  The whole set up.
                  We take her with us.                               *

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  We take her and she'll give
                  away our position, every
                  chance she gets.  No
                  prisoners, Dillon.

         Dillon grabs the handset from Hawkin's radio, shoving it
         at Schaefer.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  You're still under orders,
                  Dutch.  You want to make the
                  call, or should I?

         Schaefer looks at the handset.  Then at Dillon, he knows
         Dillon's won.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               39
</b>


<b>  55-A   CONTINUED:  (2)                                       55-A
</b>
         He starts to walk away but stops, turning back, pointing
         a finger at Dillon.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I'm getting my men out of this
                  damn jungle, Dillon.  She's
                  your baggage.  You fall behind,
                  you're on your own.



<b>  56     EXT. GUERRILLA VILLAGE - DAY                          56
</b>
         Schaefer and Billy are kneeling on the ground near the
         trailhead, studying a MAP.  In the b.g., the team, hidden,
         covers the hillside approaches to the camp, nervous and
         wary, weapons ready.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  This place is too hot for a pick-up.
                  They won't touch us until we're over
                  the border.  We can lift at LZ 49,
                  here.
                         (points to map)
                  Spotter plane says we're cut off.
                         (points to map)
                  Except for this valley.

         Billy shakes his head, following the CONTOUR LINES of
         the rugged terrain.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Looks bad, Major.  It's gonna be
                  a real bitch.
                         (points to map)
                  If we follow above the river and
                  then down, here, at this canyon,
                  we might find a way out.

         Schaefer turns to Ramirez, kneeling close by.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (decisively)
                  Not much choice.  Pancho, take
                  the lead.  Double time it.

         He turns and looks at Dillon, Anna as his side, her
         forehead bandaged, her hands bound in front of her.
         He turns back to the others.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Lock n' load, watch your ass.

         Blain moves out, swinging the Mini-gun in front of him
         as he goes.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               40
</b>


<b>  56-A   EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY                          56-A
</b>
         Watching as Dillon leads ANNA onward, SEEING her bound
         hands.  Dillon pushes her.



<b>  57     EXT. ANNA - DAY                                       57
</b>
         Spins, hurling a string of insults to Dillon in
<b>         SPANISH.
</b>
<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                         (in Spanish)
                  You touch me again, pig, and
                  I will cut off your balls!

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (in Spanish)
                  It's a long walk back, make it
                  easy on yourself.

         She spits at him, turning forward with a twist of
         her head.

         Dillon picks up his back, shouldering it.  As they
         move on, Mac calls out to him.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (quietly)
                  Hey, Dillon, over here.

         Dillon doesn't respond.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (louder)
                  Dillon, over here.

         Dillon turns and approaches, warily, holding
         the girl.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Yeah, what is it, Sergeant?

         MAc unsheathes his knife.  He gives Dillon a cold
         look and turns him by the shoulders.  Crawling
         across the PACK on Dillon's back is a huge SCORPION.

         Mac skeweres the scorpion with the tip of his
         blade, holding it before the wincing Dillon.  Anna
         smirks, nodding to the writhing, stinging insect.

<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                         (in Spanish)
                  When my people catch you,
                  you'll wish you were him.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               41
</b>


<b>  57     CONTINUED:                                            57
</b>
         Dillon looks at Mac.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Thanks.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (coolly)
                  Anytime.

         Mac flings the scorpion to the ground, crushing it
         with his boot.  He looks up at Dillon, walks away.
         Dillon follows, pulling Anna behind him.

         Billy, guarding the rear, glances furtively around
         the clearing.  He moves a step forward and stops,
         freezing.

         Slowly he turns back, his eyes riveted upon the
         treeline above the camp.  His eyes strain, his
         senses registering a fear he cannot name or see.

         Something is out there, in the trees, waiting,
         watching.

         Billy turns and walks into the jungle, pausing
         one last time to look behind him before he too
         disappears from sight.

         The jungle GROWS SILENT.



<b>  58     EXT. OBSERVER'S ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY                  58
</b>
         LOOKING DOWN from his vantage point TO the treeline
         below, terraces like stepping stones, FOCUSING ON
         a TREE, fifty feet away.

         The Observer utters a LOW TRILL and springs outward
         into space, hurtling downward towards his landing
         point, the canopy of the trees approaching in a
         staccato rush of green.

         The SOUNDS of the FOREST are again altered and
         enhanced with an electric, STATIC-LIKE quality as
         the Observer descends fluidly through the trees
         and to the ground.

         He enters the camp, surveying the terrible
         destruction and carnage.  He SEES the dead
         Guerrillas, the dissipating heat from their bodies
         leaving them pale and GHOST-LIKE, as if fading
         light about to extinguish.  He sees their weapons,
         the cold hard steel of the barrels registering
         ICE BLUE in his vision.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               42
</b>


<b>  58-A   EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. OF HIS HAND - DAY              58-A
</b>
         As it appears, pulsing in a pale magenta heat, low
         to the ground, holding his weapon.  He lays down
         the weapon, picking up the SCORPION, turning it
         slowly in his fingers, examining it.  It looks like
         an exotic flower, its color fading from sight,
         turning to BLACK.

         A low SOUND is uttered, something vaguely familiar
         about it:  A NEARLY HUMAN VOICE, a distorted
         imitation of Mac.

<b>                                 HUNTER
</b>                         (o.s.; filtered)
                  Dillon, over here.

         Again the phrase is uttered, improving, closer to
         Mac's inflection and accent.

<b>                                 HUNTER
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  Dillon, over here.

         The Hunter lowers the pitch.

<b>                                 HUNTER
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  Dillon, over here.

         The last effort is a chilling simulation of Mac's
         voice.



<b>  59     EXT. OBSERVER'S HAND - DAY                            59
</b>
         Drops the scorpion and picks up the weapon which
         changes instantly back to the Observer's skin tones.



<b>  59-A   EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY                          59-A
</b>
         He turns and focuses on the area where the team
         left camp.

         He crouches and springs to the lower branches of a
         tree, grasping them with his clawed, three-fingered
         hands, pulling himself up and through the branches
         with astounding speed and simian-like dexterity; his
         spurred prehensile feet, grasping and thrusting him
         to a vantage point, fifty feet above the ground.

         As he moves on, the jungle grows suddenly QUIET, as
         if aware, sensing that the HUNTER is now stalking, no
         longer observing!!!

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               43
</b>


<b>  60     EXT. JUNGLE VALLEY - DAY                              60
</b>
         The twilight world of a PREHISTORIC FOREST, filled
         with gigantic plants and towering trees, overgrown
         with vines and creepers.

         The team, with Billy at point, walk alongside a
         wandering STREAM BED, weirdly illuminated by SHAFTS
         OF LIGHT, streaming through openings in the trees,
         as if from spotlights, a hundred feet above.

         It is midday, hot and humid, the air BUZZING with the
         sounds of insects, the CRYING of birds and monkeys.
         The men are moving fast and quiet, straining to see
         into the dense jungle, aware of every sound, sweating,
         quietly slapping at biting insects.



<b>  61     EXT. GIANT HARDWOOD TREE - DAY                        61
</b>
         Lies across their path.  As the man climb over a
         rotten section, Mac stops to assist Blain with his
         Mini-gun.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  I've seen some badass bush
                  before, but nothin' like
                  this, man.
                         (pause)
                  Little taste 'o home?

         Blain nods and pauses to rest, looking around him
         as Mac withdraws a small silver POCKET FLASK.  He
         takes a nip, passing the flask to Blain who also
         takes a sip.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                  I hear you bro, this is some
                  shit.  Makes Cambodia look
                  like Kansas.  Lose your way
                  in here, man, you be in some
                  kinda hurt.

         Blain hands back the flask, Mac replacing it inside
         his vest.  They do their hand dap, looking warily
         behind them before they move on.



<b>  62     EXT. ANNA AND DILLON - JUNGLE - DAY                   62
</b>
         Have fallen behind, Dillon looking worriedly ahead
         at the them out distancing them.  Anna is keeping
         her pace purposefully slow.  She trips on a root
         falling to the ground.  She lies there, motionless.
         He quickly reaches down to haul her to her feet.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          44
</b>


<b>  62     CONTINUED:                                            62
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (urgently)
                  Shit.  Come on...

         Like an uncoiled spring, Anna turns, flinging a
         handful of DIRT into his face, momentarily blinding
         him.  She lunges for his rifle with her bound hands.

         Suddenly the BARREL of an MP-5 is thrust into her face.

         Looking up she SEES Ramirez, calmly holding the weapon
         on her, the look in his eyes indicating he'd hove no
         trouble shooting her.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (in Spanish)
                  Don't try it.

         She looks back at Dillon, wiping the dirt from his eyes.
         She moves on.  Ramirez gives him a cold look as Dillon
         hurries past.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (coolly)
                  You should put her on a leash,
                  Agent Man.  If you can't handle
                  her, just say the word.

         Dillon moves on, ignoring Ramirez, who turns, scanning
         the jungle behind him before moving on.  Dillon catches
         up with Anna, turning her sharply by the chin.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (cold; in Spanish)
                  Try that again.  Please.                           *

         She looks at him contemptuously, undaunted.  She will
         try it again.  She breaks away from his grasp and
         moves on, Dillon watching her go, he won't hesitate
         next time.



<b>  63     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            63
</b>
         As he travels, directly overhead, timing his movement
         with those of the team.  He moves lower, closer to
         the slowly moving humans.



<b>  64     EXT. RIVER BED - DAY                                  64
</b>
         The team moves cautiously through the winding stream
         bed, now wearing their clothing in various stages of
         disarray for comfort, sweat dripping from their bodies.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          45
</b>


<b>  64     CONTINUED:                                            64
</b>
         Billy, in the lead, picks his way along the riverbank,
         his concentration rapt, aboriginal.  His face a
         trancelike mask of expectation.

         Blain, cradling the heavy Mini-gun as if it were a
         toy, swings the weapon relentlessly across his field
         of view.  He pauses to adjust the hanging, belted
         loop of cartridges trailing from the back pack
         magazine.  An INSECT lands on his face and is trapped
         in the grease paint near his lips.  He draws the
         hapless bug into his mouth with his tongue and quietly
         spits it out, his concentration unbroken.

         Mac follows, holding the M-60 high across his chest.

         Schaefer, bent, cautious, his feet moving aside the
         dry leaves on the ground, heel to toe and on foot
         edges.  He glances around, checking the team's
         position and progress.

         Hawkins follows, his mouth open, breathing deeply,
         exhausted, the radio a 60 pound demon.

         Anna, struggling to climb a section of the stream
         bank, slips on some loose dirt.  Unable to assist
         herself with her hands tied, she nearly falls.
         Dillon prods her with his rifle, forcing her to
         her feet.  She scrambles up the bank, Dillon following.



<b>  65     EXT. RIVER BANK - DAY                                 65
</b>
         As Billy enters a small clearing, bordered on one
         side by the towering trees, carpeting the
         mountainside.  High above in the thick, impenetrable
         treeline, brightly colored birds SQUAWK loudly,
         chasing each other from branch to branch.

         Suddenly Billy stops.  Schaefer holds up his hand
         and the team freezes in position.  An eerie SILENCE,
         like a slowly falling curtain, descends over the
         jungle until even the BUZZING and CLICKING of insects
         have CEASED.



<b>  66     EXT. TEAM MEMBERS - DAY                               66
</b>
         Sensing an ambush, move quietly into the foliage.
         Dillon moves into the undergrowth, dragging Anna
         with him.  He slings his MP-5 over his shoulder,
         withdrawing his KNIFE.  Grasping Anna by her shirt
         collar and pushing her to the ground he holds the
         weapon near her throat.  Dillon signals to Ramirez          *
         who approaches.  Dillon hands Ramirez the knife.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          46
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  66     CONTINUED:                                            66
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Watch her.

         Before Ramirez can respond, Dillon slips into the
         undergrowth.  Ramirez holds the knife on Anna,
         cautiously scanning around him for movement.

         Unseen by Ramirez, Anna's outstretched hands slowly
         tighten around a stout ROOT-BURL, lying loose on the
         ground.



<b>  67     EXT. BILLY - AT THE RIVER BED - DAY                   67
</b>
         He remains frozen and transfixed, staring into the
         treeline.  Something is moving, fluid, silently and
         downward, into the forest.  Billy remains rooted to
         the spot, lost in concentration.



<b>  68     SCHAEFER                                              68
</b>
         sensing something very wrong with Billy, moves alongside
         Mac.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What's got Billy so spooked?

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  Can't say, Major...been
                  squirrely all mornin'...
                  fuckin' weird...sometimes
                  I think that nose of his is
                  too good...smells things that
                  ain't there.

         Schaefer signals for Mac to cover him and then moves low
         and quiet towards Billy.  Dillon appears, looking to
         Mac for an explanation.  Mac ignores him, concentrating
         on the jungle.  Dillon looks forward at...

         Billy, his eyes riveted to the capony above, as he
         unconsciously reaches to his throat, grasping a LEATHER
         POUCH, secured to his neck by a thong.  He fingers the
         MEDICINE BAG talisman.



<b>  69     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            69
</b>
         As he slowly descends through the trees, moving
         towards Billy, who's eyes search the treeline for
         movement.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               47
</b>


<b>  70     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER                                70
</b>
         approaches Billy, gripping his shoulders and in a
         hoarse whisper, speaks his name.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What is it...?

         Billy, rigid, does not respond.  Schaefer forcefully
         jerks his around to face him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Billy...What the hell's wrong
                  with you?

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                         (low)
                  Something...in the trees...



<b>  71     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            71
</b>
         Still closing in on Billy.  Billy turns back, looking
         high into the trees, puzzled and frightened.  He's
         lost sense of the Hunter's presence.  He lowers his
         vision, looking towards the Hunter, now on the ground,
         30 yards across the clearing from Billy.  The Hunter
         pauses.



<b>  72     BACK TO SCENE/BILLY AND SCHAEFER                      72
</b>
<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                         (whispers)
                  Can you see anything...
                         (points)
                  ...there?

         Schaefer stares hard at the jungle.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  It's...nothing...



<b>  73     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            73
</b>
         Moves behind a broad fern, skirting around Billy
         and Schaefer, heading away from the column.



<b>  74     BACK TO SCENE/BILLY AND SCHAEFER                      74
</b>
         Schaefer shakes his head, continuing to stare into
         the jungle.  He turns to Billy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What do you think...?

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          48
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  74     CONTINUED:                                            74
</b>
         Billy turns, a puzzled look in his eyes.  He nods
         in agreement.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  It's nothing...



<b>  75     EXT. ANNA AND RAMIREZ - DAY                           75
</b>
         Sensing the danger has passed, Ramirez releases his
         grip on Anna.  As they start to rise, Ramirez sheaths
         his knife and unslings his MP-5.  Anna still stares
         hard into the jungle.

         Suddenly, without even looking, Anna with the trained
         reflexes of an experienced fighter swings the BURL with
         all her might, catching Ramirez hard on the side of the
         head, just above the eye, opening a wicked gash.
         Spinning around she knees him brutally in the groin.
         As Ramirez goes down, doubled over in pain, Anna turns,
         scrambling up the embankment, running for the jungle.

         Ramirez CRIES out.



<b>  76     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                   76
</b>
         HEARING Ramirez' cry, Schaefer signals to Hawkins to
         move.  Hawkins moves out, fast, heading towards the
         sound...



<b>  77     EXT. HAWKINS - DAY                                    77
</b>
         SEES Anna running away.  He gives chase.
         Anna, although bound, is light and fit and runs fast,
         hurdling fallen logs and branches, charging through the
         undergrowth.  SHe has a good start.

         Hawkins, hampered by the radio and weapon but in
         tremendous shape, thunders after her, closing the
         distance.



<b>  78     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            78
</b>
         As he passes from behind a large tree, surrounded by
         dense foliage, SEEING the fleeing Anna.  He watches
         her and then begins to move parallel with her, only
         faster, the green of the jungle rushing by in a blur.



<b>  79     EXT. ANNA AND HAWKINS - DAY                           79
</b>
         Anna, bursting through a grove of ferns, drives on,
         breathing hard with the exertion.
<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               49
</b>


<b>  79     CONTINUED:                                            79
</b>
         Hawkins, ten yards behind, closing the distance,
         taking advantage of any hesitation Anna makes,
         struggling with the dense jungle.

         Anna hits a small clearing, an alleyway through
         the trees.  She sprints hard across the clear
         ground.



<b>  80     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                            80
</b>
         Moving through the jungle.  As he steps clear of
         the foliage he SEES Anna driving hard into the
         alleyway, running directly towards him.  Twenty
         yards away, Hawkins, closes in.



<b>  81     BACK TO SCENE/HAWKINS                                 81
</b>
         Only a few feet behind Anna, lunges forward, knocking
         her to the ground.  In a second he's on her, his
         weapon ready.  She struggles to her feet, fighting,
         gasping for breath.  Hawkins holds the MP-5 on her,
         looking at her, almost pleading.  He doesn't want
         to shoot her, but he will if he has to.

<b>                                 HAWKINS
</b>                  Please...

         She looks at the weapon, to Hawkins and then,
         hopefully, to the jungle.  She stops, staring hard
         down the alleyway.  Something...suddenly she sees it!


<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                         (in Spanish)
                  Look out, behind you!!!

         Hawkins spins...



<b>  82     EXT. HAWKINS AND ANNA'S P.O.V. - DAY                  82
</b>
         SEEING the MOTTLED OUTLINE of the Hunter's body,
         racing towards them, as if the entire wall of the
         jungle were rushing in.  The Hunter's WEAPON
         flares to life.



<b>  83     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - ANNA AND HAWKINS - DAY         83
</b>
         As he hurtles towards them, their faces frozen in
         surprise.



<b>  84     BACK TO SCENE/ANNA AND HAWKINS                        84
</b>
         A splitting THUD as Hawkins is hurtled backwards into
         the undergrowth, the Hunter's hand and WEAPON flashing

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          50
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  84     CONTINUED:                                            84
</b>
         through the air.  BLOOD splashes on Anna's face.
         She SCREAMS as Hawkins' MP-5 FIRES a short BURST
         into the air.



<b>  85     EXT. RIVER BED - DAY                                  85
</b>
         HEARING the GUNFIRE, Schaefer WHISTLES low and sharp.
         Ramirez, face bloody, swings into action, moving in a
         coordinated defensive/offensive pattern into the
         jungle.



<b>  86     HAWKINS/BACK TO SCENE                                 86
</b>
         The Hunter's ARM and SPUR hook into Hawkins' leg, and
         he is dragged into the jungle.



<b>  87     EXT. RAMIREZ - DAY                                    87
</b>
         Ramirez runs forward ten paces, drops to a crouch,
         scanning to each side.  Immediately Schaefer runs
         forward twenty paces.  As he passes Ramirez, Ramirez
         turns and scans the rear and flanks.

         Dillon, Mac and Blain repeat the maneuver, leap-frogging
         forward, canvassing the jungle, providing areas of
         intersection cover.



<b>  88     EXT. RAMIREZ                                          88
</b>
         Entering the alleyway where Hawkins was killed he SEES
         Anna, cowering in the bushes, her blood splattered
         face glazed with terror, his eyes vacant.  He
         approaches, angry, wary, but the girl is so stunned.
         He SEES the trail of BLOOD and CRUSHED GRASSES leading
         into the jungle.  He gives a LOW WHISTLE and then moves
         on, the rest of the team assuming defensive positions
         around the clearing.

         He follows the trail, finding first Hawkins'
         blood-covered weapon, and then, a few yards later,
         the radio.  Ramirez cautiously parts the brush before
         him.  A look of puzzlement and then revulsion comes
         of his face.



<b>  89     EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY                                   89
</b>
         Blain and Mac at either end, cautiously searching
         the jungle; Billy covering their flanks.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               51
</b>


<b>  89     CONTINUED:                                            89
</b>
         Schaefer and Dillon approach Anna.  She seems unaware
         of their presence, staring numbly ahead.  Schaefer
         checks her out, looking for wounds, he wipes some of
         the blood from her face.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  It's not her blood.

         Ramirez emerges from the jungle carrying Hawkins'
         MP-5 and radio.  He approaches, dumping the equipment
         on the ground.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ                                    
</b>                  Major, you'd better take a
                  look at this.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Hawkins?

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (oddly)
                  I can't tell.



<b>  90     EXT. SCHAEFER AND RAMIREZ - DAY                       90
</b>
         Dillon in the b.g., as Ramirez parts the brush with
         his weapon.  Before them, covered with dirt and
         leaves, are Hawkins' ENTRAILS.  There is no body.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (shocked)
                  What in God's name...?

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  I think it's Hawkins.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Where the hell is his body?

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  There's no sign of it.



<b>  91     EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY                                   91
</b>
         The entire team is gathered, still holding defensive
         positions.  Anna, still stunned, is beginning to
         come around.  She looks up at Schaefer.  He turns to
         Ramirez.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          52
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b>  91     CONTINUED:                                            91
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Ramirez, ask her what
                  happened.

         Ramirez drops to one knee and talks softly to her in
         SPANISH.  She mutters incoherently in Spanish, still
         dazed, shaking her head.  Dillon listens closely to her
         response.  Ramirez turns to Schaefer.  He seems
         confused.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  She says...the jungle came
                  alive, and took him...

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  That isn't what she said...
                  she said...
                         (pondering; to
                         Ramirez)
                  ...she doesn't make sense.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (growing angry)
                  Couple of sappers been
                  trailing us all the way from
                  the camp, Major.  Billy heard
                  them.  She set us up, ran
                  for it...They were waiting.
                  I should've wasted the bitch
                  when I had the chance.

         Schaefer, looking at Hawkins' bloodstained equipment
         lying at Anna's feet, looks up.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (quietly)
                  Why didn't they take the
                  radio and his weapon?
                         (pause)
                  Why didn't she escape?

         Ramirez and Dillon look at the equipment and then
         to the girl, still numb with shock.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (grimly; remembering)
                  They did the same thing to
                  Davis...

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               53
</b>


<b>  91     CONTINUED:  (2)                                       91
</b>
         The two veteran commandos look at each other, finding
         no explanation between them.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (urgent; to the others)
                  I want him found.  Sweep
                  pattern and double back.  Fifty
                  meters.

         They move out.  Schaefer moves into the jungle,
         searching.  He crouches at the base of a huge
         MAHOGANY TREE, covered with vines, studying the
         jungle.  He moves away from the tree and into the
         forest, looking for signs on the ground.

         Where he was sitting, a DROP OF BLOOD falls.  Another
         drop falls, dripping from a leaf and above that, from
         another leaf.  Above that, high in the top of the
         tree, SUSPENDED from vines from his ankles, is
         HAWKINS' BODY, his chest a gaping wound.

         He hands there as if he were an animal, field dressed.



<b>  92     EXT. BLAIN - DAY                                      92
</b>
         Crouched in the undergrowth.  There is a movement in
         the brush before him.  He wipes the sweat from his
         eyes and clicks his safety on the Mini-gun to fire.

         The SOUND is growing closer.  Blain levels the weapon.
         A smile crosses his face.

<b>                                 BLAIN
</b>                         (whispers)
                  Come on in you fuckers...come on
                  in.  'ol 'painless' is waitin'...

         The movement in the brush is GROWING LOUDER.  Blain's
         finger moves closer to the trigger.

         Suddenly a small TAPIR bursts through the leaves,
         startling Blain.  He relaxes momentarily as he
         watches the animal scurrying from sight.  He
         stands...

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               54
</b>


<b>  92     CONTINUED:                                            92
</b>
         SOMETHING grazes his shoulder, a gout of BLOOD erupting.
         He starts to turn, the Mini-gun held low, ready to
         fire...

         ...from out of the jungle, 75 feet away, the Hunter's
         WEAPON streaks toward him like a missile.  He SCREAMS
         as it enters his back, erupting from his chest in an
         EXPLOSION of BLOOD.



<b>  93     EXT. MAC - DAY                                        93
</b>
         Has heard Blain's cry.  He moves fast through the brush.
         He HEARS a RUSTLING in the bushes.  A wet SUCKING SOUND.
         Mac charges into the clearing.  In the instant before
         the Hunter disappears into the forest, Mac SEES a vision
         so brief and fantastic that it seems like a
         hallucination.

         The Hunter's EYES flare momentarily from the green
         before they vanish.

         Mac sees his friend, lying on the ground, his chest
         open, the powerful man, dead.

<b>                                  MAC
</b>                         (shouting)
                  Contact, 30 Right!!!

         He OPENS FIRE with his M-203, belted shells slamming
         into the weapon from the magazine at his waist,
         expending it in one LONG BURST.
<b> 
</b>

<b>  94     EXT. THE OTHER TEAM MEMBERS - DAY                     94
</b>
         Flying through the jungle, weapons ready, eyes searching
         for movement.



<b>  95     EXT. MAC - DAY                                        95
</b>
         He throws down the weapon and with a cry of rage, lunges
         forward, grabbing the Mini-gun.  As he stands, the
         CARTRIDGE BELT, attached to Blain, strings out between
         them.

         He opens FIRE and the foliage before him EXPLODES with
         the fury of the terrible weapon.  Mac sweeps the
         Mini-gun from left to right, like a man possessed,
         mowing down the jungle.

         The other team members race INTO SIGHT and begin firing
         with Mac.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          55
</b>


<b>  95     CONTINUED:                                            95
</b>
         Ramirez opens FIRE with the SIX-SHOOTER grenade
         launcher...EXPLOSIONS rock the jungle.



<b>  96     EXT. HUNTER - DAY                                     96
</b>
         Moving.  A piece of SHRAPNEL cuts his shoulder.  A
         splash of ORANGE BLOOD spatters across the LEAVES
         of a nearby tree, bullet holes ripping through the
         surrounding foliage.



<b>  97     BACK TO SCENE/MAC                                     97
</b>
         More FIRING.  Mac, his weapon expended, continues
         to thrust the Mini-gun forward, still squeezing the
         trigger.

         Suddenly, as quickly as it started, THE FIRING STOPS.
         The men move catlike into the jungle, reloading,
         searching, their nerves taut, stretched to the limit,
         ready to fire again at any second.

         Mac is frozen, eyes wide, unblinking, his breath
         coming in rapid gasps as he stares into the jungle,
         still squeezing the trigger of the weapon, its
         breech locked open, GUNSMOKE wafting from the chamber
         and barrel.

         Schaefer moves in front of Mac, still staring into the
         jungle.  Dillon pushes Anna into the clearing, moving
         towards the body.  Anna looks at the body and then up
         to Mac.  Schaefer sees a terrifying moment of
         recognition flash in her eyes as she continues to
         stare at Mac.  He turns to Mac.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (confused)
                  I...saw it.

         At these words, Anna reacts in shock, drawing a             *
         slight breath.  Schaefer turns, sees her staring at         *
         Mac.  He turns back.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You saw what?

<b>                                  MAC
</b>                         (still dazed)
                  I saw it.

         Schaefer turns back to see Anna, staring fixidly at Mac,    *
         watching his lips.  Schaefer turns quickly to Blain's       *
         body and kneels alongside Dillon.



<b>  98     SCHAEFER                                              98
</b>
         is at Blain's side, shocked at the sight of the
         mutilated body.  He is joined by Dillon.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               56
</b>


<b>  98     CONTINUED:                                            98
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to himself)
                  Blain...
                         (puzzled)
                  ...Just like the others...no
                  powder burns, no shrapnel.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  The wound all fused,
                  cauterized...what the hell
                  did this?

         Schaefer stands, looking at the body.  In the b.g.
         Anna drifts away from the group.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to Mac)
                  ...Mac!

         Mac stares ahead, dumbly, not hearing.  He grabs Mac
         by his shoulders, shaking him violently back to
         awareness.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (demanding;
                         angry)
                 Mac!  Mac!  Look at me!

         Mac turn to face Schaefer, a shocked expression on his
         face.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (urgent)
                  Mac, who did this?

         Mac is suddenly angry and frustrated, he has no
         explanation.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  I don't know.  Goddamn it,
                  something...I saw something/.

         Ramirez runs from the jungle, breathing hard, shaking
         his head.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Nothing.  The same thing.
                  Not a fucking trace.  No
                  bodies, blood, anything.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               57
</b>


<b>  98     CONTINUED:  (2)                                       98
</b>
         Mac stands.  Instinctively the team has now grouped
         around Schaefer, their weapons pointing into the jungle,
         ready, their nerves on total edge.  Schaefer looks
         upward at the darkening sky.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (quietly)
                  We're losing the light.  Mac,
                  I want a defensive position
                  above this ridge, mined with
                  everything we're got.

         Man is again the hardened professional.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  Yessir.

         Schaefer looks down at Blain's body.  He turns to
         Ramirez and Billy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Put him in his poncho and
                  liner and carry him back.
                  We'll bury him in the morning.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  I'll take him.



<b>  99     ANNA                                                  99
</b>
         as they leave approaches the brush, her attention
         focused on something clinging to the leaves, well off
         to the side of where Mac saw the Hunter.  She draws
         closer, reaching out, hesitant, as if drawn magnetically
         to the leaves.



<b> 100     EXT. DETAIL - HUNTER'S BLOOD - DAY                   100
</b>
         Clinging to the leaves, thick, viscous, pale-orange,
         almost like the sap of an exotic plant.  Her fingers
         hover above it, hesitantly, and then touch it.



<b> 101     ANNA                                                 101
</b>
         examines the blood, transfixed.  Dillon appears at her
         shoulder, startling her.  He motions for her to return.
         She turns, wiping the blood onto her pants leg.



<b> 102     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DUSK                               102
</b>
         The team is dug into the foxholes in a dense grove of
         trees, a solid wall to their backs.  The men are barely
         visible they blend in so well.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               58
</b>


<b> 102     CONTINUED:                                           102
</b>
         Nearby, Mac is stringing a TRIP WIRE, low to the ground,
         covering it with leaves and grass.  He moves into camp
         and reports to Schaefer.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  We've got most of the flares,
                  frags. and two claymores just
                  outside.  Nothin's comin'
                  close to here without trippin'
                  on somethin'.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Thank you, Sergeant.

         Mac starts to go but Schaefer places his hand on his
         shoulder.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I'm sorry, Bull.  It's never
                  easy.  He was a good soldier.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (hardened)
                  The best friend I ever had.

         Mac turns and walks through the camp, stopping beside
         a DARK OBJECT on the ground.  He kneels beside the
         PONCHO pulling back the zipper REVEALING Blain's face,
         looking peaceful in death, as if lying in state.

         Mac removes something from his pocket, holding it in
         his hand, studying it.



<b> 103     DETAIL OF OBJECT IN MAC'S HAND                       103
</b>
         The small WHISKEY FLASH, the chrome rubbed away in
         places REVEALING the brass beneath and a MEDALLION
         depicting the 101 1ST AIRBORNE DIVISION.



<b> 104     MAC                                                  104
</b>
         takes a tiny sip from the flask.  He replaces the cap
         and lifts the flap of Blain's shirt pocket, placing
         the flask inside.  He lingers on the face and then
         closes the zipper.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (softly)
                  Good-bye, Bro.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               59
</b>


<b> 105     ANNA                                                 105
</b>
         is huddles into a foxhole, her hands still tied in front
         of her.  She looks down at her pants leg.  The Hunter's
         BLOODSTAIN glows with a faint luminosity.  She places
         her fingers near the stain.



<b> 106     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT                           106 
</b>
         Hawkins' BODY impacts the floor with a THUMP.



<b> 107     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (DUSK)                         107 
</b>
         A momentary HUSH falls over the symphony of night
         sounds.  Anna and Billy turn towards the trees with a
         growing look of wariness.  The others, setting up the
         RADIO, show no response.

<b> 
</b>
<b> 108     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - DAY (DUSK)                      108 
</b>
         The Hunter's foot steps on the upper leg of the corpse,
         the PREHENSILE SPUR digging deep, pinioning the body
         to the ground.  The Hunter's HAND extends, his
         FINGERS puncturing the skin at the base of the spine,
         gripping the vertebrae.

         With otherworldly strength the arm pulls, the entire
         SPINAL COLUMN ripping free from the body, a sickly
         SNAPPING and POPPING of cartilage separating from bone
         and tissue.



<b> 109     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (DUSK)                         109 
</b><b> 
</b>         Ramirez is tuning in the compact FIELD RADIO, equipped
         with a CRYPTO-PHONE device.  Dillon holds the handset.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (to phone)
                  Blazer One, say again...

         A CRACKLE of STATIC over the radio.

<b>                                 BLAZER ONE
</b>                         (voice over)
                  Red Fox, I say again.  Your
                  request for extraction denied.
                  Your area still compromised.
                  Proceed to Sector 3000 for
                  prisoner extraction, Priority
                  Alpha.  Next contact at 1030
                  hours.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          60
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 109     CONTINUED:                                           109
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (to phone;
                         angry)
                  Roger, Blazer One.  1030
                  hours...damn, bastards.

         He puts down the phone, turning to the group, huddled
         together in a tight circle, Ramirez and Billy facing
         outward in defensive positions, Anna, silent, watching.
         Schaefer is look at him.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (angry;
                         shocked)
                  We're still too far in, they
                  won't risk coming in for us.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Expendable assets, Dillon.
                  Seems Langley is never around
                  when you need them.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  I can accept that, it comes
                  with the job.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Bullshit.  You're just like
                  the rest of us.

         Dillon glares back.  Schaefer leaves, lost in thought.
         Ramirez looks up at the impenetrable canopy.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Shit load o' good a chopper'd
                  do us in here anyway.

         Dillon turns to Mac.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Mac.  Who hit us today?

         Mac is still obviously feeling the anger and bitterness
         of the mystifying event.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  Don't know, only saw one of
                  'em.  Camouflaged.  He was
                  there...
                         (remembering)
                  ...Those fucking eyes...

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          61
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 109     CONTINUED:  (2)                                      109 
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (abruptly;
                         pushing)
                  What, Sergeant?

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (returning;
                         angry)
                  Those eyes...disappeared.  But
                  I know one thing, Major...
                         (pause)
                  ...I drew down and fired
                  right at it.  Capped-off two
                  hundred rounds and then the
                  Mini-gun; the full pack.
                  Nothin'...nothin' on this
                  earth could have lived...not
                  at that range.

         Dillon ponders this for a moment, staring hard at Mac.
         Mac gets up.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  I've got the first watch.

         Mac departs.  Dillon watches Mac as he creeps forward
         to the sentry position.  He turns to Ramirez.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Ask her again.  What did she
                  see?  What happened to
                  Hawkins?

         Ramirez turns to Anna.  They talk quietly in Spanish,
         Dillon watching, listening carefully.  Ramirez turns
         back to Dillon.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (interpreting)
                  She says the same thing...
                  It was the jungle...

         Ramirez looks up at Billy who continues to stare into
         the jungle, aware, catlike, reacting to every sound,
         his nerves on edge, as if ready to snap.  Ramirez
         rises, moves alongside his friend, Dillon watching
         closely.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          62
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 109     CONTINUED:  (3)                                      109
</b>
<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (whispering;
                         imploring)
                  You know something Billy, what
                  is it?

         Billy turns, his face a mask of primal fear.  He moves
         close to Ramirez.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  I'm scared.

         Ramirez is frightened by this.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (shaken)
                  Bullshit.  You ain't afraid
                  of no man.

         Billy looks deep into his eyes, chilling Ramirez to the
         bone, looking at his with eyes which have seen on an
         instinctual level what the others have so far only begun
         to sense.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  There's something out there,
                  waiting for us...it ain't
                  no man.

         Billy turns away, moving a short distance away, taking
         up his position.  Dillon looks after him and then into
         the blackness of the jungle canopy.  Dillon speaks to
         Ramirez.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  He's losing his cool.  There's
                  nothing out there but a couple
                  of men that we're going to
                  have to take down.

         Despite his words, there is an edge of doubt in his
         voice.  Schaefer returns.  He's overheard this exchange.
         He's holding the group of DOG TAGS taken from Davis' men.
         He holds them up for Dillon to see.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You still don't get it, do
                  you Dillon?  He took Davis...
                  and now he wants us.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               63
</b>


<b> 110     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT                           110 
</b>
         CLOSE ON an oval CHAMBER made of an otherworldly looking
         metal with a strange copperlike patina, its interior
         bathed in INTENSE BLUE LIGHT.  In the chamber is
         Hawkins' SKULL CAP and SPINAL COLUMN still attached.

         The light field suddenly changes as all connective
         tissue, flesh and blood and drawn away from the bony
         structures with incredible force, disintegrating as they
         rush toward the sides of the chamber.

         The light changes in frequency to a dull glow as the
         Hunter's hands remove the GLAZED, POLISHED trophy from
         the chamber.  He turns, carefully placing it upon a
         GLOWING SURFACE.  He touches the trophy gently, feeling
         its texture, as a man might touch the hide of a big cat.
         He pulls his hand away and instantly an opaque FORCE
         FIELD covers the trophies.



<b> 111     EXT. MAC - NIGHT (LATER)                             111 
</b>
         Hunched down in a foxhole, the Mini-gun on a tripod
         before him.  It's nearly a FULL MOON, the jungle a
         montage of SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS.  Mac stares into
         the night, his eyes always moving.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (distant;
                         whispering)
                  It's the same kinda jungle,
                  Bro, same moon...
                  everything...
                         (pause)
                  ...a real number ten night.
                  Remember Bro?  Only you and
                  me, the only one's out of the
                  whole fuckin' platoon who made
                  it out.

         His eyes probe the darkness, remembering.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  ...we walked out on top of
                  'em.  Not a scratch, not a
                  fuckin' scratch.
                         (spits into
                         the night)
                  No fuckin' chili-choker got
                  to you, Bro...you were just
                  too good...

         He ponders this a moment.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               64
</b>


<b> 111     CONTINUED:                                           111 
</b>
<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  ...I promise you this, Bro...
                  whoever he is, I hope he's
                  plannin' to hit us again...
                         (pauses;
                         spits)
                  ...'cause he's got my name
                  on 'em.



<b> 112     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT                           112
</b>
         A FORCE FIELD that permeates the jungle, becoming one
         with the trees and foliage.  The Hunter walks down a
         CORRIDOR of SOLID LIGHT, leading to an opening to the
         jungle.  As the Hunter reaches the doorway he changes
         from visible to invisible, moving on into the night.



<b> 113     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT                              113
</b>
         The mist has thickened, the night alive with a million
         JUNGLE SOUNDS.  The team members sleep uneasily, if at
         all.

         Mac, although weary, stares hard into the night,
         waiting, each small sound a potential enemy.  A LULL
         spreads over the jungle, animals and insects QUIETING.
         Mac tightens his grip on the Mini-gun.

         Billy awakens, peering into the night.  Nothing.

         Suddenly, a metallic CLICK, a POP, the SOUND of a
         warning flare rocketing into the canopy.  A moment later
         a brilliant FLASH as the flare burns, illuminating the
         camp.

         An echoing eerie SCREAM fills the night as a DARK SHAPE
         in the mist rockets through the undergrowth towards Mac.

         Mac spins, hauling the heavy gun around, just as
         something crashes into his upper body, driving the huge
         man into the foxhole.

         A desperate battle for life ensues, illuminated with
         the strobing light of the descending flare.  Mac's
         enraged SHOUTS and ROARS mingled with horrific SCREAMS
         fill the night.

         Mac's razor-edged KNIFE slashes in the light; BLOOD
         spatters his face as he attacks fiercely.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               65
</b>


<b> 113     CONTINUED:                                           113 
</b>
         Schaefer and Ramirez rush at a crouching run towards
         the foxhole, their weapons ready.

         A tremendous climatic SCREAM from the foxhole AND THEN,
         SILENCE.  Schaefer and Ramirez approach, cautiously.
         Mac stands, his face and clothes drenched in blood,
         some of it his, his breath coming in rapid gasps.  He
         looks at Schaefer, whispering hoarsely.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                  Got the motherfucker...

         As the flare breaks through the canopy, dying out in
         great flickering bursts, the man stare down into the
         foxhole.  A huge, jungle BOAR lies mutilated in a pool
         of blood, still quivering in the final throes of death.

         The flare dies out.

         Mac, shaking from adrenalin, breathing heavily, looks
         down at the dying animal.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (incredulous)
                  A pig...just a fucking pig...

         Schaefer shines his TEKNA-LIGHT onto the boar, playing
         the light along its massive hulk, its razor edges tusks
         gleaming in the light.  Ramirez appears by his side,
         looking down at the huge carcass.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Holy shit, Mac.

         Nearby, unnoticed by the men, Anna stoops, her hands
         still bound, picking up an MP-5 from the ground.  She
         turns, looking for an avenue of escape, running for
         the jungle.

         But the forest looks foreboding and sinister.  She
         stops, staring at the jungle, the moonlight reflected
         off leaves like a thousand eyes.  For a brief second
         she imagines she can see the Hunter's eyes, crashing
         towards her, the shifting patterns of light and dark
         making the jungle seem to strobe, like it is about to
         rush in at her.  She freezes, paralyzed by fear, by her
         memories of the attack.

         She drops the MP-5 to the ground.

         Back at the foxhole, Schaefer and Ramirez help the
         still shaken Mac from the hole.  Schaefer looks at
         Mac, at the huge gash across his chest.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               66
</b>


<b> 113     CONTINUED:  (2)                                      113
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Get a field dressing on that
                  right away.

         Suddenly he remembers, Anna.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Where's the girl?

         They all turn, ready to move and then stop.  Coming
         forth from the shadows Anna appears, still frightened,
         seeking the security of the soldiers.

         From the darkness nearby, Billy's VOICE in a hoarse
<b>         WHISPER.
</b>
<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                         (o.s.; urgently)
                  Major, over here.

         Schaefer turns, apprehensive, something in Billy's
         voice...

         He walks over to Billy, standing with a FLASHLIGHT
         pointing to the ground.  They see Blain's BODY BAG
         slashed open, covered in blood.  Ramirez appears.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  The body...it's gone.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Came in through the trip
                  wires, took it right out from
                  under our noses...

         Anna appears between Schaefer and Ramirez, staring down
         at the empty, blood-soaked body bag.  She looks up, into
         Schaefer's eyes.



<b> 114     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (PRE-DAWN)                      114
</b>
         A patchy GROUND FOG covers the area.  Anna, in her
         foxhole, awakens, LISTENING to the rising SOUNDS of
         the jungle.  MONKEYS begin to forage, their noisy
         CHATTERING and SCREECHING filling the air.

         A BIRD flutters back to its nest; a CHAMELEON emerges
         onto a leaf, directly above Anna's head.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86                           67
</b>


<b> 114     CONTINUED:                                           114
</b>
         Anna carefully extends her arm, allowing the lizard
         to crawl onto her, watching, fascinated as it changes
         colors.  She carefully places the chameleon back on the
         leaf, which changes color again, becoming nearly
         invisible.

         Near the empty PONCHO, Schaefer, Billy and Ramirez
         are examining the ground and the trip wire to the
         flare.  Billy stands, turns to Schaefer.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Boar set off the trip flare,
                  Major.  No other tracks.

         Schaefer kneels and examines the thin, well hidden
         WIRE.  He stands, looking around the camp.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  How could anyone get through
                  this, carry Blain out, right                       *
                  under our noses without leavin'                    *
                  a trace?

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  He knows our defenses.                             *
<b>                                                                     *
</b><b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                  Why didn't he try to kill one
                  of us last night?

         Schaefer looks at him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  He came back for the body.
                         (pause)
                  He's killing us, one at a
                  time...

         Schaefer turns and looks at Billy, asking with his
         eyes for a viable explanation.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  Like a Hunter.                                     *

         Schaefer stares at him, the words sinking in.  He           *
         looks up, reconstructing in his mind the possible           *
         events of last night, his eyes following the tree line,     *
         tracing the path of the intruder as he might have           *
         travelled through the trees and down to the ground.         *
         He looks up at Billy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  He uses the trees.                                 *

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>  
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86                           68
</b>


<b> 114     CONTINUED:  (2)                                      114 
</b>
         Billy and Ramirez stare up at the trees, a wave of fear     *
         passing through them...from the trees.  Schaefer turns,     *
         moving to where Dillon is guarding Anna, sitting on the
         ground.  Reaching down, Schaefer pulls her firmly to her
         feet, looking at her intensely.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Yesterday.  What did you see?

         She stares back at him.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  You're wastin' your time.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  No more games.

         She looks at him a long moment, and then answers in
         English.

<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                  I don't know what it was.
                  It...

         Dillon does a double take.  Schaefer continues to look      *
         at Anna.  He wasn't surprised:  he knew it yesterday.       *

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Go on.

<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                  It changes colors, like the
                  chameleon.  It uses the jungle...

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (derisively)

                  Shit, you trying to tell me
                  Blain and Hawkins were killed
                  by a fucking lizard?  Don't
                  listen to her.  Its's a psych-job.
                  Two, maybe three of them, that's                   *
                  all.  We keep our cool, out-think                  *
                  them 'til we're across the                         *
                  border...                                          *

         Ignoring him, Schaefer takes her hands, drawing his
         COMMANDO KNIFE, looking squarely into her eyes.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  What's you name?

         She looks back into his eyes.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86                           69
</b>


<b> 114     CONTINUED:  (3)                                      114 
</b>
<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                  Anna.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Anna.  He's hunting us.  You
                  know that?

         She nods.  With a sudden movement he slices through
         her bonds.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  What the hell do you think
                  you're doing?

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  We're going to need everyone.                      *

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  What are you talking about?
                  We'll be out of here in ten                        * 
                  minutes.                                           *

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  We're not going.                                   *

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  That rendezvous is ten maybe                       *
                  twelve miles, at most!  We're                      *
                  almost home.  But the chopper                      *
                  won't wait.

         Schaefer turns to face him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Dillon...This thing doesn't                        *
                  care who we are, who she is.
                  We make a stand or there won't                     *
                  be anyone left to make that                        *
                  chopper.

         Dillon stares back, not wanting to hear what he
         already knows to be true.

         Anna touches Schaefer's arm.

<b>                                 ANNA
</b>                  There is something else.  When
                  the big man was killed, you
                  must have wounded it.
                         (pause)
                  It's blood was on the leaves.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>  
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86                           70
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 114     CONTINUED:  (4)                                      114
</b>
         She touches her pant leg, the stain is faded but still
         there.  Schaefer turns to Dillon.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  If it bleeds, we can kill it.



<b> 115     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - MORNING (LATER)                    115 
</b>
         Anna at the base of the rocks scans the jungle with
         binoculars watching the tree line.  Mac moves past her,
         uncoiling a trip wire linking up four CLAYMORE mines
         hidden at various points with leaves and foliage.  In
         a tree at the edge of the clearing, Billy tosses an
         uncoiling roll of wire to Ramirez who attaches it to
         a GRENADE, wedged it the crouch of a tree.

         Wires attached to GRENADES and CLAYMORE MINES lead off
         through the underbrush and trees leaving a long, unmined
         corridor leading from the camp and into the jungle.


         At the corridor's end, where the rocks merge with
         the jungle, Schaefer hauls down on a HEAVY VINE,
         straining with every ounce of strength, his muscles
         bulging, while Dillon takes up the slack of the vine

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>  
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86                          71
</b>


<b> 115     CONTINUED:                                           115 
</b>
         around the base of a tree.  The vine is attached to a
         forty foot SAPLING, arcing closer to the ground in a
         gigantic bow with every pull, CREAKING and GROANING
         with tension.  With a last mighty heave, Schaefer draws
         the tree almost within reach, gesturing to Dillon to        *
         tie it off, who does.                                       *

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (straining)
                  I'm tellin' you, this little                       *
                  'boy scout' stunt is a                             *
                  Godamned waste of time.                            *
                         (stands)                                    *
                  We've got to get the hell out                      *
                  of here, now, while we've still                    *
                  got the chance.

         Ignoring him, Schaefer rapidly drags into position a
         NET crudely woven of differing sizes of vines, their
         LEAVES still attached.  He carefully begins to cover
         the net with leaves and debris.  Dillon watches him
         in growing frustration as Schaefer moves quickly,
         picking up a FRAMEWORK of STICKS he has tied together,
         a TREADLE-SPRING TRIGGER.  He holds up the framework,
         hurriedly examining his work before placing it on
         the ground.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  He'll be looking for the trip wires.
                  If we're lucky, he won't see this.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Now what, Dutch.  You going to
                  send your mystery guest an
                  invitation?

         Schaefer turns, there is a touch of fear in Dillon's
         eyes.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You're catching on, Dillon.

         Schaefer returns to his work on the net and trigger.        *
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/30/87                          72
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 116     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (LATER)                        116 
</b>
         Morning passes.  Fog lifts as the sun creeps into the jungle.
         Insects swarm and are fed upon by BIRDS and other predators.

         At the entranceway to the rock outcropping, the net and trigger
         are hidden beneath the leaves, the framework of the trigger
         bulging with tension from the straining vine attached to the
         bent tree.

         At the other end of the corridor, several meters above the
         jungle floor, Schaefer and his team, heavily camouflaged,
         nearly invisible, lie hidden, waiting.  The team members, as
         if hypnotized by the BUZZING din, stare into the jungle,
         fixated, alert.

         ANNA while waiting at the net:

<b>                                  ANNA
</b>                         (hushed)
                  When I was little we find a man --
                         (she struggles for
                         the words)
                  -- like a butcher.  The old ones in
                  the village cross themselves and
                  whisper crazy things.  'Demonio,
                  cazador de trofoes...Only the hottest
                  times of the hottest years...'  Crazy
                  things...This year is grows hot.  And
                  we begin finding our men.  We find
                  them sometimes without their skin.
                  Sometimes...much, much worse.  Cazador
                  de trofoes...means the demon who takes
                  trophies.

         SLOW RACK TO Schaefer's face.  Ashen.  HOLD.  Suddenly an
         EERIE SILENCE moves over the jungle:

         He whips his face forward.  The silence is SHATTERED by a
         bird flapping from the brush.

         Schaefer sits back and scratches his head, frustrated and a
         little chagrined.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  What'll you try next -- cheese?

         Schaefer glares at him.  Turns to go --

         He stands and begins to move low to the ground toward the
         waiting snare.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "THE HUNTER" - 1/27/87                      72-A
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
                                                              116 Cont.

         Behind him, sighting down their well-hidden gun barrels, the
         others scan the jungle, alert for the slightest sound or
         movement, covering him.

         Schaefer reaches the trap, carefully skirting the trigger
         hidden beneath the leaves.  He reaches the end of the corridor,
         moving out into the jungle.  He moves further away from the
         others, the silence crushing down on him.  He stops and waits,
         sweat pouring down his face, his finger tightening on the
         trigger of his M-203, eyes scanning the jungle.

         He turns his back on the jungle, waiting.  Nothing.  He moves
         back towards the corridor, reaching the net, again waiting,
         listening, sensing.  Nothing.  He turns around, looking at the
         jungle one last time, his face measuring defeat and then, with
         carefully, measured strides, he walks back to the camp.

         Schaefer looks at Billy who shakes his head in puzzlement.
         Nearby, Dillon starts to rise.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (low; whispered)
                  Satisfied?  Now let's get the hell
                  out...

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               73
</b>


<b> 116     CONTINUED:                                           116
</b>
         Suddenly, behind Schaefer at the end of the corridor,
         with a resounding SWISH and SNAP, the NET explodes off
         the floor of the jungle in a hail of leaves and sticks,
         rocketing upward into the treetops.

         Schaefer spins, the others leaping to their feet as
         they SEE the net as it tears into the treetops, a
         large struggling bulge trapped within as a long,
         unearthly TRILLING SCREAM ECHOES through the jungle.

         Schaefer and the others charge from the rocks towards
         the jungle and the bobbing net, their weapons ready.
         Anna remains behind, watching terrified from the rocks.

         They arrive under the net, raising their weapons to
         fire...but before they can fire the entire net
         EXPLODES into a flurry of leaves, twigs, vines, dirt
         and a FLASH of PULSATING CRIMSON.



<b> 117     EXT. HUNTER'S HAND AND ARM - DAY                     117
</b>
         As the Hunter leaps from the net his WEAPON activates,
         his arm slashing out, severing a THICK LIMB of the
         spreading tree capony, entangled in vines.



<b> 118     EXT. THE TEAM - DAY                                  118
</b>
         The limb CRASHES down from the trees, Schaefer, Dillon,
         Billy and Mac Diving for safety.  But Ramirez, following
         the Hunter's leap, SEES too late the pendular movement
         of the severed limb and is struck a THUDDING blow in
         the ribs, which lifts him off his feet, hurling him
         backwards like a rag doll, his shirt torn open,
         exposing a BLOODY WOUND.

         As Anna runs to Ramirez's side the others, still
         stunned, look upward, frozen in shock SEEING:  THE
         HUNTER, clinging to a side of a tree, flushed bright
         crimson.

         Dillis is dumbfounded, like the others, rooted to the
         ground staring upward.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  What is God's name...?

         The Hunter utters an unearthly SNARL and HISS from his
         open mouth as an instant later his camouflage resumes
         and he vanishes from sight...a rapid, furtive movement
         through the trees.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               74
</b>


<b> 118     CONTINUED:                                           118 
</b>
         Mac OPENS FIRE with the M-60, the others joining in,
         shredding the foliage, but they know the creature is
         gone.

         With a SHOUT, Mac races into the jungle, in pursuit
         of the Hunter.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Mac!

         Schaefer hurriedly ejects the spent clip from the M-203,
         slamming in a new one.  He shouts an order to Billy.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to Billy)
                  Get Ramirez on his feet!  Take
                  the girl and get the hell out
                  of here!

         He turns to run after Mac.  Dillon steps in front of
         him, putting his hand on Schaefer's chest.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  No way, Dutch.  I'm going.
                  You get these people and get
                  the hell out of here.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  This isn't your style, Dillon.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Guess I've picked up some bad
                  habits from you, Dutch.  Now
                  don't argue with me, you know
                  I'm right.  Get to that
                  chopper and hold it for us.
                  We'll be along.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You know you can't win this
                  one.

         Dillon stares at him.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  You know me, Dutch, I never
                  did know when to quit.

         Dillon turns and begins to move out.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               75
</b>


<b> 118     CONTINUED:  (2)                                      118 
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Dillon!

         Dillon turns.  Picking up the spare MP-5, Schaefer
         tosses the weapon to Dillon, who grabs it with one
         hand.  They share a look, knowing this is farewell.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  I'll see you there.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Right behind you.

         Hefting both weapons at the hip he runs into the jungle
         after Mac.  Schaefer watches him leave.  He breaks and
         goes to Ramirez, attended by Anna and Billy, who is now
         sitting up, holding his ribs and gasping for breath.

<b>                                 BILLY
</b>                  He's busted up, bad, Major.

<b>                                 RAMIREZ
</b>                         (gasping)
                  I can make it, Major.

         Schaefer lifts him to his feet, supporting him.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Come on, Poncho, we're getting
                  out of here.
                         (to Billy)
                  Billy, take the radio, leave
                  the rest.  Come on!



<b> 119     EXT. MAC - DAY                                       119
</b>
         Creeping low to the ground, his eyes searching through
         the trees.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (whispered)
                  Come on, you motherfucker!



<b> 120     EXT. DILLON - DAY                                    120
</b>
         Moving through the underbrush HEARS a slight RUSTLING
         in the foliage.  Mac?  He strains to locate the source
         of the movement.

         He HEARS A SOUND, too faint at first it identify.  He
         listens.  Silence.  He hears is again, the SOUND of
         a VOICE, barely audible.  A VERY QUIET WHISPER.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               76
</b>


<b> 120     CONTINUED:                                           120
</b>
<b>                                 VOICE
</b>                         (o.s.)
                  Dillon, over here.

         Dillon locates the direction of the voice and moves
         towards it.

<b>                                 VOICE
</b>                         (o.s.; barely
                         audible)
                  Dillon, over here.

         Dillon moves a few feet into the undergrowth.  He
         carefully parts the thick leaves and vines and enters
         a tiny opening.  He looks around, seeing nothing.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (whispering)
                  Mac?

         Suddenly a HAND appears and covers Dillon's mouth.
         Dillon gasps as Mac pulls him down to where he is
         hiding.

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (whispering;
                         close)
                  Out there.  Past the rocks...
                  can you see it?

         Something seems to MOVE in the direction Mac is pointing.

<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (whispering)
                  I see it!
                         (pause)
                  We're gonna take this thing.

         Dillon points to an OUTCROPPING OF ROCKS, covered with
<b>         VINES.
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  Take a position over there.
                  I'll work around towards you.
                  When I flush him, you nail
                  him...

<b>                                 MAC
</b>                         (a mean look)
                  ...Right, I got a score to
                  settle for the Bro...

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               77
</b>


<b> 120     CONTINUED:  (2)                                      120
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                  We both got scores to settle.

         Dillon silently disappears into the jungle, Mac
         watching him go.

         Mac makes his way toward the rock outcropping, working
         his way between the rocks and the vines.  He takes up
         a position and scans the jungle before him.



<b> 121     DILLON                                               121
</b>
         moving quietly, his face intense, determined.  He
         stops and listens.



<b> 122     MAC/ROCK OUTCROPPING                                 122
</b>
         straining to hear VAGUE SOUNDS coming from the jungle.
         He reaches out and grabs a VINE and carefully pulls
         himself forward into a better position.



<b> 123     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON                                 123
</b>
         moving, searching.  He goes into a crouch.



<b> 124     MAC/ROCK OUTCROPPING                                 124
</b>
         There is MOVEMENT in the undergrowth.  He begins to
         sweat.  He moves the safety to fire; reaches out and
         grabs another vine to pull himself forward.  Mac
         reacts in shock.

         The vine is alive!  Before he can move, the Hunter's
         HAND appears from the vines, grabbing Mac by the
         wrist.

         In the moment before he is killed, Mac turns and SEES
         the Hunter's glowing EYES.

         A FLASH as the Hunter's other hand, moves with
         blinding speed, Mac's face contorting in pain as the
         Hunter's razor-sharp SPUR rips deep into his throat.
         He falls forward into the leaves.



<b> 125     DILLON                                               125
</b>
         He HEARS the faint disturbance in the leaves.  He
         pauses, turning in Mac's direction, listening.
         Hearing no further sound he relaxes, moving on.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               78
</b>


<b> 126     EXT. NARROW RIVER GORGE - DAY                        126
</b>
         Anna in the lead, followed by Schaefer carrying Ramirez
         on his back.  Billy, carrying the RADIO is covering
         them from above, as they skitter and slide down the
         loose gravel of a rocky slope, leading to a river
         crossing.



<b> 127     EXT. DILLON                                          127
</b>
         He stalks through a narrow corridor of tangled vines
         and moss, leading to the rock outcropping on the other
         side, his face alert, showing no signs of fear, his
         weapon ready.



<b> 128     EXT. VINES AND MOSS - DETAIL - DAY                   128
</b>
         Through the thick tangle of undergrowth, there is
         MOVEMENT, a slight, undulating distortion, drifting
         through the hanging vegetation, as if cast by a
         passing shadow.



<b> 129     DILLON                                               129
</b>
         as he stops and crouches slightly, listing behind him.
         Did he hear something?  He moves on.



<b> 130     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                           130
</b>
         Behind Dillon and to the side of the corridor.  The
         Hunter syncopates him movements precisely with those
         of Dillon.

         Dillon stops.  The Hunter freezes in position.



<b> 131     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON                                 131
</b>
         He does sense something behind him.  He crouches and
         spins, leveling the weapon.  The corridor behind him
         is empty, quiet and undisturbed.  He studies the trail
         intently.



<b> 132     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                           132
</b>
         Peering out through the vines.  Dillon is looking
         directly at him.  Dillon turns, moves on, as the
         Hunter resumes his stalk, timing his movements
         perfectly with those of Dillon.



<b> 133     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON                                 133
</b>
         as he approaches the rock outcropping.  He signals.
         Receiving no response he moves closer, turning
         cautiously to right and left.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               79
</b>


<b> 133     CONTINUED:                                           133
</b>
<b>                                 DILLON
</b>                         (whispering)
                  Mac...Mac.

         He moves closer to the rocks, eyes probing.  Through a
         gap in the rocks he SEES Mac's face, staring up at him,
         eyes frozen wide in death.

         Dillon spins hard.  He stares at the solid wall of
         undergrowth.  He looks from one side of the corridor
         to the other.  Something it out there.  Where?

         Something in the vines has caught his attention.  He
         stares hard at a section of moss.



<b> 134     EXT. MOSS - DETAIL - DAY                             134
</b>
         Suddenly the right combination of light and shadow
         prevail and Dillon SEES in an instant, the Hunter's
         EYES materialize and then disappear.



<b> 135     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON                                 135
</b>
         With a growl and exhalation of breath, charges,
         bringing the weapon to bear.  A short BURST OF GUNFIRE
         erupts from the barrel.



<b> 136     EXT. THE HUNTER - DAY                                136
</b>
         In an indiscernible blue of camouflage releases his
         weapon.



<b> 137     DILLON                                               137
</b>
         SCREAMS, his arm instantly severed halfway between
         his shoulder and elbow.  The weapon drops to the
         ground, the forearm still attached, still FIRING.

         With his left hand he FIRES the second weapon
         SHOUTING INSANELY as swings it towards the blurred
         image of his unseen attacker, hitting nothing.

         The Hunter reloads his WEAPON which turns INVISIBLE
         again.  Dillon continues to fire.  The Hunter's
         weapon appears from below, cutting into Dillon's
         unprotected abdomen, which, as if hit by a samurai
         sword, bursts open.  Dillon CRIES OUT as the huge man
         hits the ground.



<b> 138     EXT. LOG CROSSING - DAY                              138
</b>
         spanning the narrow gorge, Schaefer and Anna with
         Ramirez between them, move onto the log, preparing
         to cross.  They stop, HEARING Dillon's GUNFIRE.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               80
</b>


<b> 139     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                           139
</b>
         Moving through the jungle with incredible speed,
         leaping, tearing from tree to tree, the jungle a rush
         of HEAT TRAILS as he charges on.



<b> 140     EXT. LOG CROSSING - DAY                              140
</b>
         The jungle is still deathly SILENT.  Schaefer, Anna
         and Ramirez cross the log, moving onto the other side.
         Billy, still at the foot of the log, providing cover,
         turns to face the jungle.

         He lifts his head towards the trees, feeling the
         onrushing presence of the Hunter.  He shrugs off the
         radio letting it fall, smashing into the rocks
         below.

         He casts away his weapon.  Staring forward he reaches
         into his cargo pocket, withdrawing a small
         GREASE-PAINT TIN.  Covering his finger in BLACK
         PAINT he applies dark slashes under his eyes and
         again, vertically down his cheeks.  Taking another
         dap of paint he makes a SYMBOL on his bare skin, over
         his heart.

         He drops the tin, withdrawing his COMBAT KNIFE.  Holding
         the knife he grasps the MEDICINE BAG around his neck,
         yanking it free with a quick snap.  He wraps the
         leather thong around his hand and knife, binding the
         weapon and bag together.

         Staring outward, as if in a trance, he begins a low
<b>         CHANT.
</b>
         On the other side, Schaefer carrying Ramirez on his
         back, laboring up the steep slope, nearing the top,
         turns and SEES Billy standing, waiting at the foot of
         the bridge.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (screaming)
                  Billy!!!

         But Billy stands at the foot of the bridge, knife
         raised, waiting, accepting his oncoming destiny.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Billy!!!

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                          81
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 140     CONTINUED:                                           140
</b>
         In frustration, Schaefer hikes Ramirez higher onto his
         back, digs in and sprints to the top of the hill, Anna
         waiting at the top.



<b> 141                                                  OUT     141
</b>


<b> 142     EXT. BILLY - DAY                                     142
</b>
         Crouches low, knife extended in a fighting position.



<b> 143-                                                 OUT     143-
</b>


<b> 144                                                          144
</b>


<b> 145     EXT. RIDGETOP - DAY                                  145
</b>
         Over the top, in a low depression, Schaefer props
         Ramirez against some rocks, reaching for his weapon.
         They HEAR Billy's echoing SCREAM.  Instantly their
         weapons are raised, cocked and ready.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Get back, into the rocks!

         Schaefer sweeps Anna behind him as Ramirez struggles
         to his feet.  Together they back up, covering the
         ridgeline over which they've just come.

         Suddenly, from one side, near Ramirez, the Hunter
         bursts from the jungle, Ramirez, seeing the Hunter,
         spins raising his weapons to fire...

         Ramirez SEES the Hunter's onrushing face, still in
         camouflage, a montage of organic textures and colors,
         his yellow eyes burning.

         Whipping the MP-5 is the direction of the Hunter
         he is hurled backwards from the impact of the Hunter's
         weapon, his neck gushing BLOOD, the MP-5 flying
         through the air, landing in front of Anna.  She moves
         for the weapon...

         The Hunter, with unearthly speed, turns towards
         Anna, as Schaefer starts to spin, SEEING the Hunter
         about to strike as Anna dives for the weapon.
         Schaefer lunges kicking the MP-5 out of Anna's reach.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to Anna)
                  Run!  Get to the chopper!

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               82
</b>


<b> 145     CONTINUED:                                           145 
</b>
         Schaefer spins and FIRES, bullets THUDDING into the
         ground, the barrel arcing towards the Hunter as Anna
         stumbles to her feet running into the jungle.

         In a blur the Hunter spins back, hurling his weapon at
         Schaefer which slices through the wooden stock of the
         rifle, SPARKS FLYING as it severs the trigger guard
         and steel breech.

         The M-203 flies out of Schaefer's hands as the Hunter's
         weapon cuts deeply into his left shoulder, laying open
         the flesh.

         The M-203 hits the ground, where it lies broken in half,
         useless.

         Schaefer hits the ground and is rolling, up and running
         for his life, the Hunter charging after him.



<b> 146     SCHAEFER                                             146
</b>
         crashes headlong through the jungle.  He leaps a fallen
         log, stumbles, struggles to his feet, running on pure
         adrenalin, his shoulder pulsing blood, his eyes filled
         with terror.

         Behind him he can hear the Hunter in pursuit, closing.

         Schaefer spins to look behind him, a wild desperate
         look on his face; he turns back, ducks an overhanging
         limb and lunges on.



<b> 147     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. OF SCHAEFER - DAY               147
</b>
         Closing rapidly...another few yard.



<b> 148     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER                               148
</b>
         runs like a madman, the SOUND of the Hunter's FOOTSTEPS
         close behind.  He's losing ground.  He knows he's going
         to die.

         Schaefer SHOUTS.  Suddenly the ground before him
         COLLAPSES and he disappears from sight.



<b> 149     EXT. CANYON WALL - DAY                               149
</b>
         In a shower of leaves, flailing arms and legs, Schaefer
         crashes through the trees at the canyon's edge, free
         falling into space.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               83
</b>


<b> 149     CONTINUED:                                           149 
</b>
         With a sickening IMPACT, he hits the branches of the
         first trees lining the canyon and falls, a hundred feet,
         through one canopy after another, desperately grabbing
         for limbs and branched to break his fall.

         He hits the bottom branches of the list line of trees,
         impacting crosschest on a large BRANCH, knocking his
         wind out.

         Semi-conscious, he hangs momentarily before he slides
         off, fingers digging into the bark, falling another ten
         feet into the swiftly moving river.



<b> 150     EXT. RIVER - DAY                                     150 
</b>
         Weighted down by his boots and clothing, Schaefer
         struggles to stay afloat.  Gasping for air he ducks
         underwater, untying one of his boots.  He surfaces,
         fills his lungs and dives again, releasing the other
         boot.  He surfaces, strips off his shirt and pants and
         begins to swim towards shore, stroking with one arm.



<b> 151     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                           151 
</b>
         As he nears the edge of the precipice from which
         Schaefer has fallen.  The Hunter in close pursuit does
         not hesitate but LAUNCHES himself off the cliff in
         a spectacular LEAP, streaking downward towards the tops
         of the trees that grow out from the canyon wall.

         The Hunter tears through the canopy of the first tree,
         the branches and leaves rushing past in a KALEIDOSCOPIC
<b>         BLUR.
</b>
         The Hunter bounds off of one branch after another,
         moving through the trees as an expert skier might
         negotiate a series of downhill gates.

         The Hunter leaps free of one tree, bounds across twenty
         feet of open space to a large branch of a huge tree,
         affording a good view of the river below.  From his
         vantage point, looking down at the windening, slowing
         expanse of river, Schaefer is nowhere to be seen.



<b> 152     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                  152
</b>
         He is swept into a still FASTER CURRENT and is carried
         helplessly downstream.  Boiling WHITEWATER appears.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               84
</b>
<b> 152     CONTINUED:                                           152
</b>
         Out of control he is swept through a series of rapids,
         pulling his further and further downstream until he is
         finally ducked into the undertow and hurled over the
         top of a six foot falls, driven deep underwater by the
         pounding force of the water.



<b> 153     EXT. POOL AT BASE OF FALLS - DAY                     153
</b>
         There is no sign of Schaefer.  Precious seconds pass.
         Slowly, looking like a drowned rat, he surfaces, taking
         a feeble breath.  He is nearly finished, his energy
         sapped.  But the water is calm and a few strokes are
         enough to carry him near the shore.  His feet hit
         bottom.

         He tries to stand but pitches headfirst into the thick
         MUD SLURRY at the river bank.  With his last ounce of
         strength, he crawls, panting and gasping into a
         sheltered mud OVERHANG, collapsing beside the exposed
         ROOT-SYSTEM OF A DEAD TREE, his body completely covered
         in thick, gray MUD.

         Nearly unconscious, he raises his head and looks to the
         opposite side of the river, scanning the bank.  There is
         no sign of the Hunter.  He collapses in relief.  He's
         escaped.

         Suddenly, the Hunter impacts the water, throwing up a
         huge SPLASH.  He stands up in the waist deep water.  As
         the water streams off of his body, the chameleon effect
         rapidly changes, struggling to match the shifting color
         patterns of the shimmering water.

         His glaring yellow orbs stare directly at the spot where
         Schaefer lies helplessly trapped.

         The Hunter surges forward, relentlessly closing in on
         this prey.



<b> 154     SCHAEFER                                             154 
</b>
         is frozen in terror, paralyzed with fear, his eyes
         locked ontothe incredible creature that is about to
         kill him.



<b> 155     EXT. HUNTER - DAY                                    155
</b>
         Closing rapidly, another ten feet.  He leaves the water
         and walks through the mud, stopping, towering over
         Schaefer.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               85
</b>


<b> 156     EXT. SCHAEFER'S P.O.V. - DAY                         156
</b>
         As the Hunter's feet surge though the mud and stop,
         three feet away.



<b> 157     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY                                  157
</b>
         Realizing his life is about to end, closes his eyes,
         awaiting the Hunter's killing blow.



<b> 158     EXT. HUNTER'S EYES - DAY                             158
</b>
         The fierce yellow orbs look downward.



<b> 159     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY                           159
</b>
         He's looking directly at Schaefer, EXCEPT HE CAN'T
<b>         SEE HIM.
</b>
         He can clearly see the EXPOSED ROOT-SYSTEM, but because
         of the heavy mud blocking Schaefer's body heat, Schaefer
         registers in the Hunter's vision as merely an indistinct
         lump of clay, unrecognizable to the Hunter as a human
         being.

         He scans the bank, searching, looking for heat sources.

         Detecting none he moves on sounding a questioning TRILL
         several times.



<b> 160     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER                               160
</b>
         disbelieving that he's still alive, opens one eye,
         SEEING the Hunter's feet move away, his prehensile
         spurs dragging in the mud.  He rounds a bend and
         disappears, heading for the undergrowth.

         Astonished, he tries to raise up on his hands but a
         sudden jabbing pain in his shoulder causes him to
         collapse, falling onto his side, unconscious in the
         mud.



<b> 161     EXT. RIVER - DAY                                     161
</b>
         As a HUEY ATTACK HELICOPTER breaks over the top of the
         ridge, diving forward, moving down the canyon.  The
         chopper flares up into a holding pattern.

         In the open doorway, a SOLDIER searches the top of
         the canyon with binoculars.  Seeing no sign of life,
         the chopper flies on, disappearing down the canyon
         rim.



<b> 162     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER                               162
</b>
         lies unconscious in the mud, the distant SOUND of the
         helicopter THRUMPING into the distance.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               86
</b>


<b> 163     EXT. ANNA - DAY                                      163
</b>
         She runs into a clearing, stopping momentarily, gasping
         for breath.  She is startled by a sudden movement
         behind her.  She spins, looking.  There is nothing
         there.  She runs on.



<b> 164     EXT. THE CANYON - DAY (DUSK)                         164
</b>
         Schaefer GASPS as his eyes bolt open in fear.  As if
         the Hunter were still attacking, Schaefer rolls to his
         feet and runs, slogging through the THICK MUD, stumbling,
         lunging forward, gasping for breath.

         Schaefer spins and staggers backwards into a shallow
         POOL, scuttling, crablike into the chest deep water.
         Schaefer backs into the moss-covered wall by the
         waterfall, looking for movement, regaining his senses.

         As the water settles, he looks down, SEEING the image
         of himself, reflected in the pool; his hair and face
         covered in THICK CLAY.  He stares, mesmerized at the
         image.

         He lifts his arm from the water, his fingers wiping the
         MUD from his face, exposing a PATCH of SKIN.  He studies
         the mud in his hand and then looks at the image of
         himself in the water, SEEING the exposed skin.  HE
         stares at it, a wave of realization rushing through
         his mind.  He places the mud back on his face, again
         looking at his image.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  You couldn't see me.

         He looks up, out into the failing light, at the treeline
         of the deepening forest, realizing that fate has given
         him a fighting chance.  Slowly a look of vengeance and
         hatred crosses over his face.



<b> 165     EXT. CLAY BANK - NIGHT                               165
</b>
         Using his MACHETE he carves MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS from a
         fire block into a pile of KINDLING.  He removes a match
         from the hollow handle of the machete, also containing
         a coil of PIANO WIRE, GREEN TAPE and MEDICAL SUPPLIES.
         He lights the shavings which burn with a brilliant white
         light.  Schaefer shelters the fire with a banana leaf
         until the flame dies down.  He feeds the fire with more
         kindling, fanning it with a leaf.



<b> 165-A   SCHAEFER - BOW AND ARROW MONTAGE - NIGHT (LATER)     166
</b>
         Holding a three foot section of FIRE-HARDENED sapling
         between his feet and shoulder, he scrapes the char
         from the seasoned wood with his machete.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               87
</b>


<b> 165-A   CONTINUED:                                           165-A 
</b>

         He bends the bow and attaches a long piece of PIANO
         WIRE to one end, carefully wrapping it for strength,
         using strips of green tape to cover the sides of the
         wire where the nock of the arrow will fit.

         He attaches split quilled FEATHERS with fishing line to
         an ARROW,  its tip fashioned into a series of barbs,
         rubbing them to a polished hardness against a smooth
         stone.  When finished he places the arrow on the ground
         next to three other identical arrows.


<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  One chance, that's all.



<b> 166     EXT. CLAY BANK - NIGHT                               166 
</b><b> 
</b>
         Schaefer is pounding a peeled root between two stones.
         He pauses to drool saliva into the pulpy mass.  He
         scrapes the milky substance onto a BANANA LEAF, mixing
         it with a sticky SAP, holding it over the coals until
         the mixture steams.

         Schaefer coats the arrow tips with the sticky poison,
         holding them over the coals until the sap bubbles and
         smokes.  He spins the arrows in his hands, blowing on
         the tips to cool and harden the mixture.

         Using the tip of his machete, he pries open the casing
         of one of the 40MM grenades, discarding the warhead.  He
         dumps the PROPELLANT POWDER from the shell onto a leaf,
         mixing that with a mound of MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS.

         He opens the narrow, tight roll of GAUZE taken from the
         first aid kit of the machete handle, fluffing it into a
         large, loose BUNDLE, the size of a baseball.  He pours
         the powder-mixture into the gauze, mixing it into the
         fabric.

         He transfers the ball of explosive ladened gauze to a
         pliable DRY LEAF, closing it into a bundle, binding it
         at the top with a long strand of jungle-grass.

         He twists the remaining gauze around a MATCH, leaving
         the head exposed, forming a self-striking FUSE.

         He coats the fuse with SAP and then thickly covers it
         with more powder from the 40MM grenade.  He pokes the
         fuse down into the leaf.  Taking a long strand of JUNGLE
         GRASS he makes a large loop, tying it onto the grenade,
         slipping the loop and grenade over his head.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               88
</b>


<b> 166     CONTINUED:                                           166 
</b>
         Finally, using several sections of BAMBOO of differing
         diameters, he fashions a crude, anti-personnel
         SPEAR-BOMB, a BANG-STICK like weapon, using the
         sharpened TONGUE from his belt buckle for a FIRING PIN
         and a 40MM GRENADE from his belt pouch as an explosive
         charge.



<b> 167     EXT. RIVER'S EDGE - NIGHT                            167
</b>
         Schaefer appears, he has covered him entire body with a
         variety of CLAYS and OCHERS, creating a mottled, EARTHEN
         CAMOUFLAGE pattern.

         Holding his weapons in one hand, he moves up the canyon,
         ascending into a rising boulder field.



<b> 167-A   EXT. BOULDER FIELD - NIGHT                           167-A
</b>
         Where the river flows into a series of falls and pools,
         surrounded by massive boulders and table top rocks,
         their crevices jammed with large amounts of DRIFTWOOD
         swept down at high water from the forests above.

         On a flattened section of rock, Schaefer drags a large
         section of BRANCHES INTO VIEW, adding it to a growing
         mound of FIREWOOD.  He kneels, tending to a pile of
         DRIES GRASS, LEAVES and other tinder.  Using the last of
         his precious matches, he sets fire to the tinder, gently
         coaxing the tiny blaze into a slowly consumming FIRE,
         flames starting to lick upward through the dry wood.

         He stands, staring into the rapidly growing blaze.  He
         turns, facing the canyon rim, raising his weapons in one
         hand.  From the depths of his soul, a SOUND emerges;
         primitive and visceral, as if from an animal in pain.

         He throws back his head and SHOUTS.



<b> 168     EXT. CANYON RIM - NIGHT                              168
</b>
         A hundred feet below, Schaefer stands in the boulder
         field, his mud coated body bathed in RED FIRELIGHT,
         looking like a fierce, primitive warrior; a timeless,
         prehistoric sight, his long and WAILING CRY, ECHOING
         endlessly through the canyon.



<b> 169     EXT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT                           169
</b>
         Backlit by the LIGHT of the open door, the Hunter's
         head, in three-quarter profile, his eyes gleaming, rears
         INTO VIEW, looking up at the sky, HEARING Schaefer's cry.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               89
</b>


<b> 169     CONTINUED:                                           169 
</b>
         Responding with a low HISS, he turns back, raising in
         one hand his weapon, in the other a U-shaped SHARPENING
         DEVICE.  As he passes the weapon through the device, it
         FLASHES into life, a deep, HARMONIC HUM emitted as the
         blade grows with energy, growing hotter, hotter and
         HOTTER with each stroke.  He draws the blade now WHITE-HOT
         through the device for the last stroke.  He lifts
         it, testing its balance, the WHITE-HOT blade
         illuminating his alien face.



<b> 170-                                                 OUT     170- 
</b>
<b> 177                                                          177 
</b>
<b> 
</b>
<b> 178     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - JUNGLE - NIGHT                178 
</b>
         Emerging from his camp, the Hunter swings into the
         nearby tree line, moving to the uppermost branches.
         The Hunter travels silently from tree to tree, arriving
         at the canyon rim where far below he SEES in the
         canyon, the BONFIRE, a leaping, shifting, multi-colored
         collage of HEAT WAVES and FLARES, luring him onward.



<b> 179     SCHAEFER                                             179 
</b><b> 
</b>         hidden back within the deep notch of several large
         LOGS and broken trees, in the river canyon.  Below
         him, on the rock plateau, is the bonfire, illuminating
         in SHIFTING PATTERNS of LIGHT, the awaiting arena of
         destiny.

         His eyes shift, trancelike, moving from side to side,
         watching the approaches to the fire below.  His senses
         are alert; his nerves on a wire edge.



<b> 180     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  180 
</b>
         His SHADOW-FORM descending through the canyon, a
         rippling movement of grays and blacks, passing through
         the shifting light patterns on the rocks, cast by the
         growing bonfire below.



<b> 181     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT                         181 
</b>
         His eyes probe the canyon, drawn to the swirling
         patterns of HEAT given off by the gaseous COMBUSTION
         of the bonfire.



<b> 182     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  182 
</b>
         Continues on, moving silently down through the canyon.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               90
</b>


<b> 183     SCHAEFER                                             183 
</b>
         sits motionless, nearly invisible in his mud camouflage
         amid the darkness of the logs.

         Suddenly, over the CRACKLING of the FIRE, the BUZZING,
         CLICKING of INSECTS, and the CROAKING of FROGS, suddenly
<b>         CEASES.
</b>
         Slowly, painfully he draws the bow to full arch, his
         wounded shoulder trembling, the BLOOD beginning to seep
         through the bandage.

         The bow straining at full draw, Schaefer stares intently,
         concentrating, searching for the Hunter's form in the
         dancing light below.



<b> 183-A   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT                              183-A
</b>
         Like a giant insect, drops from above, fifteen feet
         above Schaefer, his steel-like spurs digging deep into
         the log.



<b> 183-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                183-B
</b>
         He freezes at the sound of the Hunter dropping, his
         eyes wide with fear.  The slightest movement will bring
         an instant attack from the Hunter behind him.  But to
         wait, his back exposed.



<b> 183-C   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT                              183-C
</b>
         Jumps from the log above and to Schaefer's left, onto
         a boulder, gaining a better vantage point of the arena
         and fire below.  He raises his weapon, his EYES
         glistening in the dim light, searching.  A quiet HISS
         emerges from his mouth.



<b> 183-D   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                183-D
</b>
         Spins and fires at the movement of the Hunter.



<b> 184     EXT. ARROW - NIGHT                                   184
</b>
         Flies into the night, lodging into a BRANCH of an
         exposed tree, just missing the Hunter's head.

         In a blur, the Hunter's arm streaks downward, a dull
         flash of light leaving his fingers as he fires the
         weapon, the projectile STREAKING downward, EXPLODING
         into the log, inches from Schaefer, sending a SHOWER
         of wood chips and bark, flying in every direction.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               91
</b>


<b> 185     SCHAEFER                                             185
</b>
         in a flash, is up and running, clutching his weapons,
         leaping from boulder to boulder.  He jumps down into the
         lighted area below, landing hard, rolling into the
         protective shadows of the rocks, putting the loping fire
         between he and the Hunter's position on the rocks above.

         He moves forward, darting to look backwards before
         leaping off the lip of the table rock into the boulder
         field below, a flat plane littered by weirdly shaped,
         water-erroded rocks, forming a giant stone AMPITHEATER.
         Shadows leap and dance across the boulders, cast by the
         bonfire from the plateau above.

         Schaefer crouches between two large boulders, quietly
         breathing through clenched teeth, feeling the pain of
         his now freely bleeding shoulder wound.



<b> 185-A   EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT                                  185-A
</b>
         A nightmarish silhouette appearing for an instant on the
         rim of the plateau above.



<b> 185-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                185-B
</b>
         Over the SOUNDS of the FIRE and the softly flowing
         RIVER, distinguishes a NEW SOUND, one that brings fear
         and a savage determination to his heart:  the rhythmical
         CLICK-SCRAPE, CLICK-SCRAPE of the Hunter's feet, moving
         over the rocks, somewhere above him.

         Drawing back on the bow, Schaefer moves around the
         boulder to his left, heading towards the sound of the
         Hunter.



<b> 186-                                                 OUT     186-
</b>
<b> 197                                                          197
</b>


<b> 198     INT. HUNTER. SOMEWHERE IN THE BOULDERS - NIGHT       198
</b>
         REVEALED in flashes of strobing light, pauses at the
         juncture of several towering rocks.

         He stands, erect, tilting his head slowly, turning it
         from side to side, his ears trying to orientate to the
         diversity of SOUNDS reflecting off the circular walls,
         enclosing the boulder field.



<b> 199     INT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT                         199
</b>
         His vision, accustomed to another spectrum, has little
         available heat to register vivid images of the inert,
         lifeless forms of the stones.  He SEES instead, a world
         of soft, ill-defined shapes in a pale MAGENTA field of
         flickering heat.
<b>   
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               92
</b>


<b> 200     INT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                200
</b>
         Creeping forward, carefully placing one foot in front
         of the other, suddenly stops, hearing the CLICK-SCRAPE,
         CLICK-SCRAPE, now on his right.

         Starting to move in this new direction, he stops again,
         HEARING the sound now directly across from him.
         Listening, he hears the sound again from yet another
         direction, the sound ECHOING in the natural ampitheater
         of rock.

         Schaefer, uncertain of where to turn, waits.  Suddenly
         he crouches and freezes, HEARING the unbelievable SOUND
         of a HUMAN VOICE, softly echoing through the
         ampitheater.

<b>                                 ANNA'S VOICE
</b>                         (o.s.; filtered;
                         in Spanish)
                  Look out, behind you!!!

         Schaefer spins, his breath catching at the sound of
         Anna's voice.  Wide-eyed, straining, he waits, hearing
         only the muted FLOWING of water, the HISSING and POPPING
         of the dying fire above, the shadows growing longer,
         darker with each minute.

         And then again, Anna's VOICE.

<b>                                 ANNA'S VOICE
</b>                         (o.s.; in
                         Spanish)
                  ...Look out, behind you!

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (to himself)
                  Anna...?

         Tracelike he moves towards the sound.



<b> 201     THE HUNTER                                           201
</b>
         his head canted, throat distended, utters another
         mimicry.



<b> 202     SCHAEFER                                             202
</b>
         moving towards the space between two boulders from which
         the VOICE seems to emanate.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               93
</b>


<b> 202     CONTINUED:                                           202
</b>
<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (louder)
                  Anna...?



<b> 203     THE HUNTER                                           203
</b>
         his ears now directed towards the SOUND of Schaefer's
         voice, his slowly approaching FOOTSTEPS, raises his
         weapon.



<b> 204     SCHAEFER                                             204
</b>
         pauses before the opening of the passageway.  All is
         silent.  He hesitates to enter.  Listeneing.  He starts
         to move and then hears a NEW VOICE:

<b>                                 HUNTER
</b>                         (o.s.; Mac's
                         voice)
                  Dillon, over here...

         Schaefer, horrified at the sound of the dead man's
         voice, backs quickly into the space between a boulder
         and the high rock wall of the ampitheater.



<b> 205     INT. HUNTER - SOMEWHERE IN THE BOULDERS - NIGHT      205
</b>
         His feet moving quietly over the rock, the shadow-light
         deepening with the dying fire above, closing in.



<b> 205-A   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT                                205-A
</b>
         Bow drawn, trapped against the rock, HEARING the sound
         of the Hunter approaching from the left, now the
         right, is helpless, not knowing where to fire, the
         Hunter's deadly strike only an instant away.

         Still holding the bang-stick in his bow hand, he
         carefully releases the draw on the string, reaching
         to his neck for the FLASH-GRENADE.  With painstaking
         care he removes the grenade from his neck.

         Focusing on the rocks before him and the still
         approaching SOUND, he reaches down with the grenade,
         gripping with his fingertips the matchhead fuse,
         placing it against the rocks at his side.

         With a sudden jerk of his hand he strikes and throws
         the grenade, snatching up the bang-stick with his
         good hand.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               94
</b>


<b> 205-A   CONTINUED:                                           205-A
</b>
         The matchhead SPUTTERS as the grenade flies through the
         air, an instant later a blinding, WHITE FLASH of light
         illuminates the ampitheater...

         In that instant Schaefer SEES above him and to his left,
         the HUNTER, poised on top of a rock, his weapon raised,
         about to strike!  Momentarily blinded by the flash of
         light, the Hunter's head recoils to the side.

         Darkness swallows the image of the Hunter, but in that
         second, Schaefer seizes his advantage, hurling the
         bang-stick spear.



<b> 206-                                                 OUT     206-
</b>
<b> 213                                                          213
</b>


<b> 214     INT. THE SPEAR - NIGHT                               214
</b>
         It smashes into the boulder at the Hunter's feet.  The
         Hunter leaps as the grenade DETONATES, shrapnel tearing
         into his body.

         With a terrifying SCREAM of pain and anger, the Hunter
         clutches frantically at the WOUNDS in his neck and
         chest.  Another bloodcurdling SCREAM OF RAGE and the
         Hunter is gone.



<b> 215     INT. WATERFALL - NIGHT                               215
</b>
         Cascades over the rocks, fed by a small stream running
         through the ravine.  A pile of BOULDERS breaks the
         falls, filling the area with an everconstant MIST.

         Schaefer appears, holding the bow and arrow, following
         the LUMINOUS BLOOD TRAIL of the Hunter over the rock.

         Moving behind the falls, Schaefer's body is briefly
         soaked by the water, the hardened and CAMOUFLAGE
         beginning to dissolve, running off his body.  He
         continues on, slowly, cautiously following the blood
         trail.



<b> 216     INT. TABLE TOP BOULDER - NIGHT                       216
</b>
         Next to the flowing stream, surrounded by an open area
         of rock.

         Schaefer, smeared with blood and sweat, his clay and
         ochre camouflage partially washed away, climbs up a log
         onto the boulder.  Oblivious to the searing pain in his

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               95
</b>


<b> 216     CONTINUED:                                           216
</b>
         shoulder, he breathes in hot, powerful exchanges, his
         eyes wide and glowing with vengeance.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                  Bleed, you bastard.

         His bow down, Schaefer follows the blood trail across
         the rock, edging alongside a huge vertical boulder.
         The blood trail stops.

         He takes another step forward, past a darkened ALCOVE...

         Schaefer spins, SEEING in the alcove the SURPRISED
         Hunter whirl and spring towards him...

         Schaefer in a bound closes the distance, savagely
         kicking the Hunter's arm.  The WEAPON flies from the
         Hunter's hand CLATTERING to the rock.

         Before he can recover, Schaefer follows with a karate
         kick to the chest, hurling the Hunter to the ground,
         his back exposed.

         In a flash, Schaefer is standing over the Hunter, the
         bow drawn, poised, the blood from his open wound
         dripping onto the Hunter's back.

         The Hunter slowly rolls onto his back, REVEALING his
         face, his eyes bleached white in shock from the loss of
         blood.  The Hunter's body, rippled out of control,
         trying desperately to orientate itself to the
         environment.

<b>                                 SCHAEFER
</b>                         (incredulous)
                  Who the hell are you...?



<b> 217     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. OF SCHAEFER - NIGHT             217
</b>
         Schaefer's body, looms over him, MOTTLED and STREAKED
         from his exposed skin, blood oozing from the shoulder
         wound, his eyes like black sockets in his almost
         skull-like face.  Seen from this perspective, Schaefer
         is a frightening, horrible visage.



<b> 218     THE HUNTER                                           218
</b>
         shudders, GASPING hungrily for air, strugging to speak.
         From his throat, Schaefer HEARS the feeble, distorted
         efforts of the Hunter, at first garbled,
         incomprehensible and then, slowly, chillingly, taking
         on the timbre and quality of his OWN VOICE.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               96
</b>


<b> 218     CONTINUED:                                           218
</b>
<b>                                 HUNTER
</b>                         (electronic;
                         filtered)
                  Who...
                         (improving)
                  ...the hell...
                         (nearly perfect)
                  ...are...
                         (perfect)
                  ...You?

         The Hunter's strength seems to fade even more...

         Then, suddenly, with the last of his diminishing
         strength, he lashes out with one arm, activating the
         lethal, razor sharp SPURS on his wrists.

         The Hunter's coiled leg kicks upward with incredible
         force, his terrible spur ripping into Schaefer's thigh,
         hurling Schaefer into the air, flipping him over,
         sending him crashing to his back into the shallow pool
         of water, momentarily losing his bow.  He flounders
         desperately in the water, searching for the bow.  He
         finds it just as...

         The Hunter rises slowly to his feet, GASPING desperately
         for breath.  He inhales deeply, hungrily, gaining
         strength with each breath.

         Schaefer looks from the pool to SEE the Hunter, raising
         his weapon to throw.

         In one totally instinctual movement, Schaefer draws
         back on the arrow to its very tip and fires.

         The arrow, with a deadly THUD, penetrates deeply into
         the Hunter's neck.  Another bloodcurdling SCREAM of RAGE
         as the Hunter clutches his throat, dropping his weapon.
         An instant later and the Hunter is gone.



<b> 219     EXT. LOG BRIDGE - NIGHT (PRE-DAWN)                   219 
</b>
         Emerging onto a huge log leading to the rim of the
         canyon, Schaefer holding the Hunter's weapon, pauses
         several times, finding more traces of the Hunter's
         blood, the deep WOUND in his thigh flowing heavily.
         He continues across the log and climbs the bank,
         following the traces into the jungle.
<b>  
</b><b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               97
</b>


<b> 220     EXT. JUNGLE - PRE-DAWN                               220 
</b>
         Moving along the rim of the coulee, Schaefer follows
         the thick, orange blobs hanging on leaves and spent on
         the forest floor.

         Too weak to move through the trees, the Hunter has
         left a SWATH of trampled grasses, broken twigs and
         branches in his headlong retreat from Schaefer:  the
         Hunter turned Hunted.



<b> 221     EXT. TWO ATTACK HELICOPTERS - DAY (PRE-DAWN)         221
</b>
         Powering upward from the canyon, the WATERFALL in the
         b.g., clear the rim, racing along at treetop height,
         heading towards the island promontory.



<b> 222     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - CAMP -PRE-DAWN                222
</b>
         Staggering into the clearing, bleeding severely.  The
         Hunter is rapidly losing his camouflage ability, his
         skin turning a PALE GREEN, flexing and pulsing in
         shock.  The glow of light from the ENERGY FIELD
         reflecting off the spreading apron of BLOOD flowing
         from his wound.

         With trembling hands he grasps the arrow and breaks
         it, pulling the shaft from his neck.  He screams in
         pain.



<b> 223     EXT. GLEN - PRE-DAWN                                 223
</b>
         Schaefer follows the blood trail, deeper into the
         incredibly dense vegetation, ripping aside the heavy
         growth, plunging onward.

         Before him, covering a narrow passageway, is a huge
         SPIDER WEB, intricate, four feet across.  Schaefer
         starts to sweep aside the web.  With a sharp intake
         of breath, he halts, inches from the wed.  Something
         is wrong.

         Examining the web closer he sees not silken threads
         but a hard and shiny network of HAIR-FINE WIRE: A TRAP.

         He backs up, picking up a hefty branch from the ground.
         He swings the branch with a mighty heave, clenching
         his teeth in pain.  The branch sails end over end
         into the web impacting the strands.  A metallic SNAP
         is HEARD; a high-pitches WHINE and the log is violently
         severed, the pieces flying in opposite directions with
         great speed.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               98
</b>


<b> 223     CONTINUED:                                           223
</b>
         Schaefer runs on, again picking up the blood traces of
         the fleeing Hunter.



<b> 224     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP                                   224 
</b>
         At the edge of the site.  He SEES the Hunter staggering
         through the foliage.

         Schaefer starts after him but then stops, dumbfounded
         by the incredible images that crash in on him:
         TRANSLUCENT HUMAN SKINS stretched over frames, the hair
         of the attached scalps moving lightly in the wind;
         SKINNED BODIES, some lying on the ground, others hung
         from the trees, like Hopper and his men were.

         He turns back, SEEING the Hunter as he passes through
         the shimmering distortion of a FORCEFIELD enveloping
         the forest.  Within the force field he SEES the vague,
         nearly transparent OUTLINE of the Hunter's ship.

         He approaches it, wide-eyed, his senses reeling with
         astonishment and rage.

         From within the force field, a PASSAGE WAY of BLUE LIGHT
         appears, the Hunter's form backlit as he ascends the
         RAMP to his spacecraft.



<b> 225-                                                 OUT     225- 
</b>
<b> 226                                                          226
</b>


<b> 227     THE HUNTER                                           227
</b>
         as he passes his hand through a light BEAM, the ship
         instantly responds, as a low, TURBINELIKE HOWL is
         HEARD, building slowly in volume and pitch.



<b> 228     SCHAEFER                                             228
</b>
         in his weakened condition staggers forward, looking
         up, SEEING the passage way of light diminish as the
         door begins to close.

         As rising HEAT WAVES begin to envelope the ship, the
         Hunter stares out at Schaefer, the heat waves
         increasing as the KEENING WHINE of the ship's drive
         builds.  He enters the force field, the door now
         inches from closing.

         On the ground, nearly obscured by the grass and leaves,
         Schaefer SEES the Hunter's WEAPON, lying where he
         dropped it in his desperate flight to escape.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                               99
</b>


<b> 228     CONTINUED:                                           228
</b>
         Schaefer grabs up the weapon and holds it.  How the
         hell does it work?...He squeezes the handle of the
         weapon feeling it resist.  Nothing happens.

         With the last ounce of his strength, and with a BELLOW
         of RAGE, his arm muscles bulging, he crushes down on
         the handle...

         In a FLASH of blue-white light, the weapon becomes
<b>         ACTIVATED.
</b>
         Schaefer raises the weapon, sensing its power and
         function.

         In the final seconds before the door closes, Schaefer,
         with a triumphant SCREAM, fires the weapon...

         The weapon, flaring with deadly energy, drops and turns
         sideways, accelerating through the door and into the
         spacecraft.



<b> 229     INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY                                229
</b>
         The weapon impacts the Hunter, his head EXPLODING in
         a fountain of orange blood and pale green tissue.

         The weapon continues on, burying itself into the energy
         field, bolts of plasma-energy begin arcing from the
         force field.

         Schaefer falls forward onto his hands and knees,
         staring at the Hunter's ship.  The SOUND of the
         hyper-drive continues to increase, as the ship begins
         to tremble.



<b> 230     EXT. HELICOPTER COCKPIT - DAY                        230
</b>
         As suddenly the instrument panel goes wild, gauges
         spinning, digital readouts racing out of control.
         The SOUND of the turbine faltering, changing pitch.
         The pilot lurches forward with the stick, fighting
         for control.



<b> 231     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY                             231
</b>
         The multi harmonic whine of the Hunter's ship is
         still building as the ground begins to shake.

         Schaefer, realizing that the ship is going to explode,
         and ignoring the pain of his shoulder and leg, runs
         desperately, searching for cover.  He sprints for

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                              100
</b>


<b> 231     CONTINUED:                                           231 
</b>
         the edge of the clearing, diving over the embankment
         just as:

         A blinding purple FLASH blows the ship to pieces.



<b> 232     EXT. HELICOPTER - COCKPIT - DAY                      232
</b>
         Enveloped in the flash of intense light.  CRIES of
         surprise fill the ship as the SHOCK-WAVE hits the
         chopper, heeling it hard over to one side.

         Below, the concentric waves of energy race outward
         from the center of the blast, an unearthly sight, like
         the miniature birth of a star.

         The helicopter suddenly regains control, its power
         restored.

<b>                                 PILOT
</b>                  Holy, fuck, what was
                  that...?!!!

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  Orbit right...check it out!

         The helicopter levels out and heads toward the smoking,
         devastated site of the blast.



<b> 233     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY                             133
</b>
         The jungle has been completely transformed.  No longer
         lush and verdant, the area is clear-cut, two feet
         above the ground, covered in FINE WHITE, smoldering
         ASH.  Amongst the shattered stumps, debris from the
         ship, bright as magnesium flares, burns with exotic
         colors.

         If the f.g., Schaefer, a living dead-man, streaked
         with the alien ash, rises up from a shallow depression,
         staring dumbstruck at the site.

         Breaking in low over the treetops, the HELICOPTERS
         flare up into position, one preparing to land.

         As the chopper descends, the crew, standing in the
         door way, stare transfixed at the devastation, their
         eyes trying to penetrate the dense white smoke.

         As the helicopter slowly descends, its propwash creating
         a raging storm, Schaefer materializes from the SWIRLING
         SMOKE AND ASH, his features taking form as he
         approaches, his naked body covered in mud, blood and
         ash.

<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>                                                              101
</b>


<b> 234     EXT. SCHAEFER'S P.O.V. - LANDING HELICOPTER - DAY    234 
</b>
         As the chopper, emerging from the vortex, settles
         towards the ground where the spacecraft once stood.
         Through the distorted veil, the helicopter, bristling
         with WEAPONS, VISORED and HELMETED MEN, now covered
         with WHITE ASH, looks like a landing spacecraft.



<b> 235     EXT. HELICOPTER - DAY                                235
</b>
         The door gunner swings the M-60 into firing position,
         pointing it at Schaefer.  He racks the bolt, loading
         a round.

         The crewmen look tense, frightened.

         Anna, standing next to the door gunner, stares at the
         strange creature before her, narrowing her eyes,
         uncertain.  Is there something familiar about the
         figure?



<b> 236     SCHAEFER                                             236
</b>
         stands in the clearing, staring at the helicopter and
         the array of weapons pointed at him.  He looks dazed,
         like a man making contact with members of an alien
         race, for the first time.



<b> 237     THE HELICOPTER                                       237
</b>
         hovers low to the ground, the tension inside building
         as Schaefer approaches.

         More weapons swing into position.  Fingers tighten on
         triggers.  Suddenly Anna recognizes the figure.
         Realizing the danger she holds up her hands, shouting

<b>                                 ANNA
</b><b>                  NOOOOOO!!!!!!
</b>


<b> 238     EXT. HELICOPTERS - JUNGLE - DAY                      238
</b>
         Flash overhead, heading across the trackless jungle,
         their rotors THUMPING like heavy machine gun fire.



<b> 239     INT. HELICOPTER - DAY                                239
</b>
         Schaefer, a blanket over his shoulders, still in the
         remains of his mud camouflage, his body laced with
         deep cuts; his chest and shoulder caked with dried
         blood, is seated on a bench in the cargo hold.

<b>                                                      (CONTINUED)
</b>
<b>------------------------------------------------------------------------
</b><b>         REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86                         102
</b>
<b>                                                                *
</b>
<b> 239     CONTINUED:                                           239
</b>
         Near the cockpit are General Philips, an ARMY MEDIC,
         two MACHINE GUNNERS.  They look at Schaefer in awe.

         The Medic, holding an open FIELD KIT, a syringe and
         bandages, turns to Philips.

<b>                                 MEDIC
</b>                         (shaking his head)
                  Looks like he's been through
                  hell...can't believe he's
                  still alive.  What the hell
                  went on down there?

<b>                                 PHILIPS
</b>                  If it hadn't been for her, he'd
                  be dead now.  That story she
                  told us...I still can't believe
                  it.

         He looks at Anna, her eyes meeting his, as if asking
         for an explanation.  She looks at him a moment before
         turning back to Schaefer, staring at him as if he were
         risen from the dead.

         She looks into Schaefer's face, Schaefer returning her
         look, recognition passing between them.  Anna extends
         her hand.  Schaefer slowly reaches out, touching her
         fingers, then clasping her hand.

         Schaefer turns his eyes to stare out the open door,
         beyond the passing jungle below, out to the heavens.

         He turns back, looking at Anna, a faint smile crossing
         his face...they made it.



<b> 240     EXT. TWO HELICOPTERS - JUNGLE - DAY                  240
</b>
         Pull away and head towards the distant, green horizon.



<b>                                                      FADE OUT
</b>


<b>                              THE END
</b>


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What is one of the names the locals call the creature?
What is one of the names the locals call the creature ?
"The devil man hunter" or "The demon who makes trophies of men"
The devil man hunter or The demon who makes trophies of men
El diablo cazador de hombres or "the devil man hunter"
El diablo cazador de hombres or the devil man hunter