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Bad Bugs
Bad Bugs
Bad Bugs
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Bad Bugs

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The ruthless quest for power... You will find everything you expect from apolitical thriller: Blakemail, Prostitution, human trafiking, sadism,corruption and of course, also murder. But not all is black!
A thriller based on the works of Elias Canetti (Masse und Macht), H. Arendt ( the origins of Totalitarism) and the biography of Hitler by I. Kershaw.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 10, 2012
ISBN9781476475257
Bad Bugs
Author

Peter Fladl Martinez

Peter Fladl Martinez Schriftsteller und Fotograf Geb. 19.2. 1954 in Bruck / Mur , Österreich. 1971 Beginnt den Roman „Fünf Variationen über die Nacht“ 1976 fertiggestellt. Erscheint 1977 bei Rogner & Bernhard, München. Forum Stadtpark Graz Mitglied. Beginnt den Roman „Hönigsbühl“ ( Fragment) Ausschnitte und andere Texte erscheinen in Manuskripte, Graz. HEFT, Schaffhausen u.a. iNN, Insbruck 1980 Hörspiel „ Bleiches Feuer“ ORF, Regie: Manfred Mixner 1983 Schreibt Roman „ Eskapade“ (unveröffentlicht) 1985- 1990 Roman „Die Trümmer Rubennachs“ (unveröffentlicht) 1990- 1994 Roman Orpheus & Eurydike (Fragment, unveröffentlicht) 1997 Fotoaustellung in Visual and performing art space, Umass, Amherst. USA 2000-2001 Roman „FRUZUL“ ( demnächst in Smashwords Editions) 2003/ 2011/12 Roman: Die Tiefschläger, Smashwords Edition 2006 Filmskript: Bad Bugs (englische Version) (demnächts in Smashwords Edition) 2007 Filmskript: Drop (englische Version) (demnächst in Smashwords Edition) 2008 Roman in Arbeit: Die Königin/ Die Freiherrin Lebt in Samaná, Dominicanische Republik Peter Fladl Martinez is originally from Austria and has lived in many parts of Europe and America including Italy, Spain, Puerto Rico, The United States of America and der Dominican Republic. He is a writer of novels, radiodramas and screenplays as well as a photographer. Published in Smashwords: Drop and Bad Bugs, two screenplays and Die Tiefschläger, a novel (in German). mailto: pefladlmartinez@yahoo.com

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    Book preview

    Bad Bugs - Peter Fladl Martinez

    BAD BUGS

    by

    Peter Fladl Martinez

    &

    Ulrich Fladl Carmona

    Copyright 2006: Peter Fladl Martinez and Ulrich Fladl Carmona

    Registered with Libary of Congress and Writers Guild Of America, East, Inc.

    Smashwords Edition

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of these authors.

    Special thanks to Mrs. Sue Lee, Cambridge, for the revision of this play

    *

    FADE IN

    Near future. Autumn. Wells’ apartment in Manhattan. Morning. Sitting room. The furniture and decoration, reflects the taste of Wells, which tends to imitate the British aristocracy. The illumination is low in the room, since the curtains are partly drawn. On the walls and everywhere else a great number of fotos, pictures, smaller and lager sculptures showing all kinds of kings and dictators of the past and present. One of them a foto of Adolf Hitler.

    Wells, 55 to 60 years old, rather thin and small, with big, square spectacles stands with the back to the room at a window overlooking the city. But it is not a top floor. There are higher buildings around. The images from the TV are reflected next to the head of Wells in the glass. On a chair and on the sofa are sitting two men: Mr. CROWLY (Wallstreet Banker. About sixty) and Mr. PARKER (The same). JAMES (Wells’ butler. An emotionless machine, 45 years old) takes part of the breakfast away.

    CROWLY: I see your point, Wells. But what about time?

    He looks at his watch and makes a movement, like wanting to go up.

    PARKER: You are right, Crowly. It could take us decades and still it is an unsure enterprise ... Parties ... OK. But for what a new one?

    WELLS (without turning around, low voice): You all see, just the money ...It’s not the money.

    PARKER: What did you say, Wells?

    Wells turns around and points to the image of Hitler.

    WELLS (with emphasis): Look at him. It took him ten years to get the power!... It’s a question of organization, Parker. I didn't work fifteen years in vane! I am sure it can be done!

    Parker first, then Crowly stands up.

    CROWLY: You know, Wells. I feel comfortable in the shadows...

    Wells looks at them intensely, then turns around disgusted.

    PARKER: You are very well connected, Wells. Very well. And you know things... And nobody questions, that you are a great organizer ... and diplomat too. But I have the impression, that you are a little bit... How should I say? ... Gray? ... I mean for a public figure ... And in any case I would like to see something more concrete...

    Wells turns around again. His expression is now very amicable.

    WELLS: I know, I know, Boys... And I appreciate your interest...That's all I wanted for now.

    He takes the two towards the door of the room.

    WELLS (CONT'D) : I am just exploring the terrain, you know... How was the night, Crowly?... No. No. No. Don't say anything... But I will throw one more of my little parties next week again... Come?

    They walk out of the room. James carries another tray full of things from the opulent

    breakfast into the kitchen. Wells comes back into the room and walks to the same window as before. He looks out of the window. Next to him a reflected painting of some king. James comes into the room with a tea pot. He pours tea into a cup and brings it to Wells on a tray.

    WELLS (CONT'D) : Wall Street... Bankers ... Concrete ... As if anything would have been done, being concrete...

    He turns around, takes the cup, walks into the room and talks pacing up and down.

    WELLS (CONT'D) : Imagination, James … Vision ... Determination... The law of history. For the common people, history is an endless chain of the unimaginable ... But not for us, James. Not for the few who make history ...

    He returns where he had been before and looks out at the city.

    JAMES : It is eight thirty, sir. Do you want the car, sir?

    Wells makes a gesture of agreement.

    James walks into a corridor, which leads out of the sitting

    room.

    INT. WELLS' APARTMENT IN MANHATTEN, JAMES’S ROOM - LATER

    James’s room is small and aseptic. Everything is perfectly made up. James enters it and takes a gray coat and a chauffeurs cap out of a gray metal chest. Puts it on in front of a mirror. Then he takes a gun out of the nighttable and puts it, after checking it, into the arm-holster.

    EXT. WELLS’ APARTMENT-BUILDING IN MANHATTAN - LATER

    Some trees in front of it. A UNIFORMED DOORMAN stands in front of the early 20th century structure. Wells’ car, a Bentley of the sixties, pulls up in front of it, driven by James. The doorman opens the door of the entrance for Wells.

    UNIFORMED DOORMAN : Good morning Mr. Wells.

    Wells does not answer and walks straight to the car followed by the doorman, who opens the back-door of the car for him. Wells carries a light coat over the arm and a few news-papers, which he throws first on the seat, then gets in.

    UNIFORMED DOORMAN (CONT'D) : Have a pleasant day now, sir.

    Wells looks at him for a moment, but does not answer.

    WELLS: To the club first, James.

    The doorman closes the door and the car leaves.

    INT. WELLS' CAR - LATER

    The car moves in heavy traffic downtown. Wells has a look at the papers.

    EXT. IN FRONT OF THE CLUB - LATER

    Wells’ club occupies a two story house somewhere in Downtown. The facade is neoclassical with some half columns and stairs leading up to a dark violet door, with a golden number and a bronze doorknocker. In front of the club two vans of handymen. Wells’ car pulls up. Wells and James get out.

    INT. CLUB, CLUB-ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

    Two men are painting the walls. The room has a fire place. Papers on the floor. In the middle of the room a big, iron coal furnace. Next to it stands REBECCA (very good looking woman of about 30 years) and looks at it. She turns around, when Wells and James enter.

    WELLS : Oh, Rebecca! Did you wait long?... I hoped to be here a little bit earlier... I had one of these annoying visits ...

    He touches slightly her back and looks at the furnace, opening the door of it. He turns to James.

    WELLS (CONT'D): Why it is not down still?

    JAMES : It is quite heavy, sir. They were afraid, the stairs could give in.

    Wells closes the furnace door.

    WELLS : Come on, Rebecca, let’s have a look at what they are doing in there.

    He walks to the double-door of the conference-room. Rebecca follows him. James follows them, keeping a discretedistance.

    INT. CLUB, CONFERENCE-ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

    Here a big table and empty bookshelves. On the table, showcases with dissected insects. Wells takes one of them up and shows it to Rebecca.

    C.U. Of two or three insects.

    WELLS :It was not my idea... But I like it ... Come on...

    They enter a dark corridor which connects the conferenceroom with Wells’ future apartment.

    WELLS (CONT'D) : Be careful Rebecca.

    INT. CLUB, WELLS' APARTMENT - MOMENTS LATER

    Also in this room painting tools and newspapers are lying around. A big painting of a horseman leans against the wall. A iron chest with a key in it, stands in the middle. Wells opens the door.

    WELLS : Knowledge, Rebecca... The knowledge about your force and the force of the enemy... But most important of all: Knowledge about the weak points of your friends...

    He closes the door.

    WELLS (CONT'D) : Do you know, what I am talking about, Rebecca?

    REBECCA : Not really...

    Rebecca gets a mini disc out of her hand bag and gives it to Wells. Wells holds the disc up, and

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