COLONEL (CONT'D)
Having a good trip?
He's up into Frederic's face - stoic with sarcasm. Then turns to the other guests.
COLONEL (CONT'D)
It could be any of you in there.
One of Frederic's eyebrows twitches. The colonel repeats his warning in Russian. All ten nod, unsure why.
INT. HALLWAY -DAY
Heated cloud particles cluster, then disperse. The ten pass through the clouds, huddled together - fear on their faces. Two burly SOLDIERS and the colonel usher them toward heavy doors which automatically open as the group gets close, and quickly close behind them. Puffs of heat increase, as does the men's sweat - sticky and glistening. Three TECHNICIANS stand next to a conveyer belt. The colonel walks up - he glares directly at Frederic. The soldiers step up to grab the other American, hold his arms tight at his elbows. He struggles. His voice grows to a desperate SHRIEK as they lift him inches off the floor.
Up front, a wall slides back. Everyone jumps back from the intense heat. In front of them is an oven...red-hot inside. The American is SCREAMING -- The colonel stuffs a white tennis ball in his mouth. Behind them, there's a WOOSHING sound as a gurney comes down the conveyer belt. The soldiers throw the man on the rack - try to strap him down. He thrashes, fights them, anguish, fear hysteria on his face.
The watchers are now a group of 9, frozen in fear. They watch the gurney roll forward to the oven - reddest red to white orange.
THE GROUP
(each in their own language) No, no, stop - help - don't.
The man goes in. The very second between life and death - no reprieve, no turning back, the man is cooked. Frederic shakes his head, perspiration flying off in every direction. His shoulders twitch. He screams.
FREDERIC
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