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What's the plan? |
Gonna try to get a closer shot of * Beavis & Butthead. * |
There's another guy, still in the car. |
Stay on him. |
Copy that. |
And make it fast. My horse is getting tired. |
Hey, did that guy Harry chased last night call in to give himself up yet? Cause apparently that's the only way we're going to catch the son of a bitch |
Okay. Here she comes. |
Look at the way the little punk is driving. He's all over the place. Look he hasn't signalled once. |
Goddammit! That's outrageous. |
So, you wanna play huh? You little |
That's it. Get 'im Harry We'll teach that little puke not to signal. |
Ha! The little prick ditched you! That is so goddamn funny. |
Son of a bitch! |
Can we go to the office now, Mr. Superspy? |
Abu Kaleem Malik. |
Hardcore, highly fanatical, ultra * fundamentalist. Linked to * numerous carbombings, that cafe * bomb in Rome, and the 727 out of Lisbon last year. Major player. * |
Look, uh... I've got to talk to Helen about this thing with Dana. I'm just going to run in and see if she can get away for lunch. |
You want me to just hang ? |
Just hang a minute. |
I'll just hang then, shall I? |
He Helen. Helen it's Helen. It's Helen, Gib. |
Something to do with Helen, is what I'm getting. |
She's having an affair. |
Congratulations. Welcome to the club. |
It can't be. Not Helen. |
Nobody believes it can happen to them. |
It can't be. |
Same thing happened to me with wife two. I had no idea until I came home and the house was empty. I mean empty. She even took the icecube trays from the fridge. What kind of person would think of that? |
I still don't believe it. |
Relax. Helen still loves you. She just wants this guy to bang her. It's nothing serious. You'll get used to it after a |
Is this national security stuff boring you? |
Put a tap on her phone. |
What're you talking about? We have that. |
Helen's phone. Her office line and the line at my house. |
Yeah, and we do it twenty times a day. Don't give me that crap. Just put on the taps. Now. |
Sure, Harry. I'm on it. |
Guy's a spook! |
Yeah, but for who? * |
He could be working her to get to you. |
Give me the page. |
What are you talking about? |
It skips from page nine to eleven. Where's page ten? |
Aw, it's gotta be a typo |
GIVE ME THE GODDAMN PAGE!! |
She's still at my house. * |
The purse is still at the house. |
Goddamnit, Harry. This is our butts. So your life is in the toilet. So your wife is banging a used car salesman. Sure it's humiliating. But be a man here |
You tell on me, I tell on you. |
Whatya talking? I'm clean as a preacher's sheets, babe. Clean as a |
What about that time you trashed a sixweek operation because you were busy getting a blowjob? |
You know about that? |
She's lying. |
You didn't have sexual relations with him? |
She could be telling the truth. |
Wait! Calm down, Mrs. Tasker. There is only one more question. |
Now what? |
There is only one solution to your problem, Mrs. Tasker. You must work for us. |
Oh shit. Harry... what're you doing? |
I'm giving her an assignment. I am offerring you a choice. If you work for us we will drop the charges and you can go back to your normal life. If not, you will go to federal prison, and your husband and daughter will be left humiliated and alone. Your like will be destroyed. |
We're dead, right? So... where'd you put the transmitter? |
In her Walkman. It's the one thing I knew she'd be taking. |
You've reached a new low with this one. I can't believe you're crazy enough to use the room at the Marquis. |
Why not? You think I can afford a suite like that on my salary? Is JeanClaude done yet? * |
I thought this look like your work. |
Let's go. I'll brief you in the air. |
You're welcome. |
you tell the son of bitch this is Bright Boy Alert. Repeat, a Bright Boy Alert. And I need a patch of the White House ASAP. That's right |
... the Coast Guard has to clear them back to a twenty mile radius. Anybody that can't make the minimum safe distance we need an airlift on, immediately |
I can get 3 Marine Corps Harriers here in about 12 minutes. They're on maneuvers out of Boca Chica. |
Get 'em. I'll brief them on the way in. |
... well get the Highway Patrol to go through the streets and tell everybody on their damn loudspeakers. Just the basics... get away from windows, don't look at it... yeah |
Here they come. |
Any minute now. |
It's show time. Don't look at * the flash. Do not look at the flash. |
I'd like to remind you that it has been ten years since you were actually in one of these. |
If I break it they can take it out of my pay. |
He's got it. |
Sorry. |
Faisil. You're new on Harry's team, aren't you? |
Yes. |
So what makes you think that the slack I cut him in any way translates to you?! |
Sorry, sir. Uh... here's what we got. |
They call him "The Sand Spider". * |
Why? |
Probably because it sounds scary. * |
This is impressive, gentlemen. Of course, it would have been even more impressive if you actually knew where he was. |
And this is a little above market * rate for the horizontal bop, even * for a total biscuit like her. |
Alright, I want a complete workup on her. Do we know where she is? |
Uh huh. Right here in river city. |
You're kidding. |
She lives in Rome, but she does stuff here the Smithsonian and has a lot of diplomatic connections, so she has offices * here. * |
And the second you left there, we started getting calls to the * ghost numbers. They were checking out the Renquist front. |
Okay. Let's step up the surveillance on her. Put on two more guys. |
Immediate roll. Acquire subject at K Street and Key Bridge. * Vehicle is redandwhite * convertible. You have six minutes. |
Roger, One. Rolling. |
Dana, Mr. Hardy called. Why weren't you in class today? |
He lies! I was there! I was in the nurse's office, cause I had a headache. |
You seem fine now. |
Great! You're going to believe that fat dweeb Mr. Hardy over your own daughter. |
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