Original subtitles

Man: The Vietnam peace talks are continuing here in Paris today

against the background of what to do

about the release of American prisoners of war.

In the United States, sentiment is running high

for a complete accounting for all of the POW's and MIA's...

Those listed as missing in action...

Before any treaty is signed.

The prisoners, men such as these,

are Americans who have been captured

during the 10 years of fighting in Vietnam.

The under Secretary of State, Conrad Morgan,

is the chief American delegate to the talks.

This morning, outside the mansion in which the talks are being held,

Morgan told reporters that he is optimistic.

I now sincerely believe that

the North Vietnamese delegates are dealing in good faith

and that significant progress can now be made.

Mr Morgan, as chief delegate to these talks,

are you saying a final agreement has been reached?

What I'm saying, sir, is what I said.

The situation is extremely delicate, but significant progress can now be made.

Is that clear?

I certainly hope it is,

because I would dearly appreciate the ladies and gentlemen of the press

getting that straight.

What if Koung Yen decides to throw new roadblocks into these negotiations?

I suppose we'll have to take things one step at a time.

Mr Morgan, there is one more question

the American public deserves to have answered.

What about the MIA's, the missing in action?

Have you and Koung Yen discussed that at all?

Yes, of course we have discussed that

and we will continue to discuss that question.

But as I'm sure you can all realize,

that is of such a sensitive nature that I'm not at Liberty to go into that now.

I can only say this — that I'm very hopeful that we will arrive at a solution.

What the hell are you doing in my room?

You told me to meet you here.

Could have waited in the lobby. Turn that goddamn thing off, please.

I'm enjoying it.

Reporter: Mr Morgan, please, can we have a statement...

Harold's, come on. Bring that shit in here!

Man: Corning, coming.

I'm not as nimble as I used to be.

Actually, Conrad, I have always been rather clumsy.

When you get that stuff cleaned up, make me a scotch, will you, please?

So the war is over, Mr. under secretary?

You're practically a national treasure.

Which son of a bitch is that?

Hope they cut his balls off.

Give Harolds a pair of scissors.

When the time's right, I'll do that myself.

Sounds like your private meeting with Koung Yen

was what you guys in state call “a frank discussion of the issues”.

What the hell is this, some kind of a joke to you?

You could say so. It's not to me.

Well, somebody's gotta take it seriously.

I told 'em I didn't need any goddamn CIA help on this thing...

And they shove me down your throat!

We've been through this before, Morgan.

Now, what the hell is it this time?

How many of your CIA people are the VC holding?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Save that bullshit for congress. How many?

150, maybe. Why? They're dead.

I take it the fact that we have positive information to the contrary is irrelevant.

Speak intelligibly, Morgan.

As an addendum to the peace terms, Koung Yen wants a sacrifice.

Call Omaha and get a flock of sheep.

He claims he's lost a lot of family to you people.

I also think — this isn't important, of course — but I think he's a psychopath.

That makes him unique in this business, doesn't it?

In any case, we agree to write off those people as missing in action

and they agree to call off the war and give us a lot of other people back.

And you agreed?

I didn't agree to anything.

You practical son of a bitch!!

You're gonna cash in those people's lives

just for a shot at the Nobel peace prize!

Saunders, don't get sanctimonious with me.

Nobody's gonna win anything when this war's over.

If the VC want 'em dead so bad, why don't they just kill 'em?

They won't because they're worth too much as a bargaining point.

Wrong. They'll kill 'em just as soon as they sign the treaty

or they'll hold them as MIA till they're through interrogating them.

In any case, what I'm trying to say, Saunders,

is we have to at least try to get some of those people out of there.

I hate to think I've been misjudging you, Morgan.

Now, what do you call those commando people

you're holding under the Phoenix umbrella?

Black Tigers.

Who the hell thinks up names like that?

Black Tigers!

Actually, a group of us did, some years ago.

Don't let anybody kid you, Harolds. It's a great name.

Can they get your people out? I don't know, it's a very risky business.

Take at least a couple of weeks for an operation like that.

48 hours? Right.

What about staging a Major operation in the middle of your peace talks?

I'll worry about the diplomacy.

I get the feeling I'm offending some sensibility in you.

The American public is crying for peace. I intend to achieve it for them.

Like I said, you're practically a national treasure.

You know, Saunders, when this war is over,

you should get a job as an advance man for cancer.

In support of the disease or the cure?

The American custom of joking during a time of crisis.

How certain are you of your intelligence?

To be perfectly honest with you, Major Minh,

the only thing certain about intelligence is uncertainty.

As usual, you're a big help.

This better be as important as your boys at headquarters said it was.

Let's go, Minh.

What do you think prince is gonna say

when we come walking in there after him?

“You came a long way, Fred, to collect your bread.”

That's what he's going to say. You'd better believe that, baby.

What makes them think Hanoi will sit still for this kind of stunt?

It must make some kind of sense or they wouldn't be sending us.

One camp. What good could it do? The POW's are in dozens of camps.

It's the camp with the most guys in it. It's the best we can do.

Can do anything but harm the negotiations.

Major, I thought the goddamn war was over.

So did I, but it's not. What's your point?

The point is, Major, we don't want to be the last guys killed in this friggin' war

I think they've got us down for second to last.

Jesus Christ — whatever happened to the good old days

when Randolph Scott and John Wayne were happy to have their asses blown off

for the good ol' US of A?

Who the hell is Randolph Scott, man?

Randolph Scott Key — Dude who wrote the national anthem!

Oh, that Randolph Scott!

You can joke if you want, but I've got a score to settle.

That's the spirit, Gordie — An ear for an ear!

I said not to joke around about my ears, didn't I?

You're gonna have a hard time finding an ear that size, Gordie.

Just give me a couple whole heads. I'll use what I need.

What do you know? We can go first class!

You gonna serve coffee, Randolph? Sure!

I want Lola Falana to serve my coffee!

Gonna be a movie on this flight? Yeah.

Minh'?

Major, over here! Get in!

Get him.

Come on! Alright, let's get out!

Get him! Come on!

What's the matter? Goddamn thing won't start!

Come on!

Get out! Move out! Let's go!

Come on!

Come on, Gordie. Come on, pal! We gotta run!

Where we running, Mike?

Are we late for the train or something?

Where the hell are the choppers?

The choppers aren't here. Why don't we take the train?

Nighthawk, this is Tiger 1. Over.

Nighthawk, this is Tiger 1. Over.

Somebody's going to pay for this screw-up.

I think I know who.

Yeah, us.

Nighthawk, this is Tiger 1. We're at LZ and waiting for pick-up. Over.

I don't get it.

Everything went wrong by the numbers. And that takes planning.

What the hell are you talking about?

I'm saying we've been set up.

Where are the choppers?

I just told you, Gordie, it was a screw-up.

I like choppers. They're like birds.

You like birds, don't you? Sure I do, Gordie. Sure I do.

Where are the choppers?

I like choppers. They're like birds.

I shot a bird once. My daddy took my rifle away...

Yeah. Take care of him, Mike.

What do we do now? Survive.

Lou, the point. Walker, the rear.

Where are you going, Mike? Going home.

What do we do, walk out? If you spot a taxi, flag it down.

How'd it feel? A hell of a lot better!

Let's clean her out and I'll give her another try.

I think our troubles with this baby are just about history.

You spend one more minute with this car,

I think that baby down there is gonna be history.

Damn, can you believe I forgot all about her?

Any man who forgets something like that needs a lube job and oil change real bad.

I can't wait to get her on the rack.

Goddamn it, Booker, what's a girl have to do to get your attention?

I'm sorry, Kelly.

Ay, yi, yi.

You're really going to be mad. I've got a class to teach in one hour.

Come on, Booker, get in.

And so, as history slowly places it into some kind of perspective,

a few things about the Vietnam war have become clear.

It was a war that never should have begun

in a country we never should have entered.

And its thousands of victims died without really understanding why,

mainly because the reasons for the war were beyond any rules of logic.

On Wednesday, we'll sing patriotic songs

and pretend I said none of the above.

Good lecture, man. Thank you.

See you, Booker.

You're welcome.

I hope you didn't mind my sitting in.

Seems a long ways from the '60's, doesn't it?

Yes, it does.

Can I take you to lunch?

I don't eat lunch. Who are you?

Let me take you to dinner and find out.

You do eat dinner? I've been known to.

I'm on an expense account. You're a reporter.

Why else would I fly all the way out from Washington to see you?

I don't know.

Pick me up at 7:00?

7:00 is too late.

Forus?

For dinner. How about 5:30?

At 5:30 in Washington, they're still out to lunch.

In Washington, they're always out to lunch.

Besides, I have a feeling this might be a very interesting evening.

You're the professor, professor.

That's it, mister. That's a good job.

Too bad you weren't born black. There might have been a future in this for you.

Hey, mister, you forgot your newspaper.

Thank you, my man.

Quite a car.

Not exactly ideal for going from stoplight to stoplight, is it?

Not unless they're a couple of hundred miles apart.

Pretty much for a grad student.

I do some test driving, and like a damn fool,

I took the car instead of the salary.

What the hell is he trying to do?

Hang on!

Alright, you son of a bitch, what the hell's going on?

Take it easy, man! The accelerator pedal stuck!

What? I said, “the accelerator petal stuck.”

Why didn't you kill the engine?

Because I thought I could kick the petal loose.

I wish I knew. I think I need a drink.

Any place in particular?

Your place. As long as you drive carefully.

Are most of your days usually as exciting as this one?

Not quite, but I've got a feeling things are about to change.

If you've got something to say, say it.

You were on a top-secret mission to rescue some POW's

at the end of the war.

No response?

I get it. You're writing a book about the war.

Something like that.

When you arrived at the camp, there were no POW's, only Vietcong.

You lost most of your men.

I wonder who told you about that. It was all top secret.

Shall I go on?

Are you married?

After the raid, you were to be met

and flown to safety by helicopter with the POW's.

The helicopters didn't show,

so you marched out of the jungle with five of your men.

Do you fool around?

It took you three weeks to get out of the jungle.

Then you were, as they say, 'debriefed' in the hospital for two months.

Nothing was ever printed about that strange sortie.

Why not?

How about something to eat?

Whatever happened to those POW's who weren't there to be rescued?

Have they been returned? Are they MIA?

Are they dead?

Will anybody admit that they ever existed?

Will you answer any of those questions?

Now, what can you do with one egg?

I tried it once. I didn't like it.

Your unit was a part of operation Phoenix.

Its job was to 'neutralize', I believe they called it,

the Vietcong undercover agents.

You were also assigned to rescue our own POW's.

You're very intense for a girl with such...

How about one egg with oysters and Sauerkraut?

Are you gonna tell me anything?

There's really not much to tell.

In the hospital, they told us the VC intelligence had cracked our security.

Reasonable possibility.

They said our choppers had been shot down.

Reasonable possibility there.

Then they said by the time they got replacements to us,

there was nothing but bodies.

That's what they said.

And like an obedient soldier, you believed them.

In the hospital, I told myself the war was over.

I lived through it, now put it behind you.

I could spend years trying to find out if somebody set us up.

And if I found him, well...

He most likely would be someone I couldn't get to anyway.

What if he were someone you could get to?

I decided not to waste my life to avenge something I'd survived.

It's over and I want to keep it that way.

I don't believe you really feel that way.

Why are you asking all these questions?

I can't tell you.

Then stop asking them.

I met a man at a cocktail party in Washington.

He was what the newspapers refer to as “a high ranking government official”.

He was also very, very drunk.

The scotch seemed to break some barrier in his mind.

He mentioned the Black Tigers. How's the Sauerkraut coming?

Coming nicely, thank you.

John T. Booker...

A man taking his PhD in political science

who used to be a member of the CIA.

Sounds schizophrenic.

I was never a member of the CIA.

The Black Tigers were CIA.

I didn't know the freedom of information act was that effective.

It isn't, but I am.

What do you think of Conrad Morgan

being named Secretary of State designate?

Nothing' doesn't interest you, huh?

I'm only interested in finding out what you're not telling me.

Who's going to tell who first what he or she isn't telling?

Maybe I'll tell you after dinner.

Or maybe in the morning.

How about the morning?

Yeah. Bad dream?

You don't sleep well, do you?

Did I keep you awake?

I'll make it up to you.

You already have.

How do you turn this goddamn thing off?

Why does anyone who doesn't sleep well

have an alarm that sounds like big Ben that can't be turned off?

Where are you going? To run.

I run too.

Well, come along.

Mmm, I think I had sufficient exercise last night.

Breakfast? If you can find anything.

Of course, you don't eat breakfast.

I'll see you in exactly 27 minutes.

When I get back, we can talk about breakfast, maybe.

Hey, Murray. Why don't you get an honest job?

What, and give up my cloak and dagger?

John, I have to talk to you.

Pull over. Gas is expensive.

I know better than to ask where you've been,

but that cigar smells like pure Havana.

Fringe benefits.

John, what did you and Marilyn talk about?

Do I know her?

The reporter who seems to have more answers than questions.

You wouldn't be talking about a writer named Margaret, would you?

She told me Marilyn.

Next guy'll get Myrna or Marilee. She's obviously in the M's.

Now, what did you tell her?

I told her about a long walk I took a couple of years ago.

What did you tell her?

Somebody told her more about that mission than even you and I know.

That scar is ugly, but it's healed.

Well, it's about to be reopened.

Operation sandstone. I don't recall that one.

There was no operation sandstone.

You see that line with 'D.A.' on it?

It means that sometime during an operation which never happened,

it was confirmed that you were a double agent.

There's a contract out on me. Correct.

Why?

I suspect that reporter found out something she shouldn't have.

Now, what'd she tell you?

She said someone talked to her about the mission.

I didn't want to hear about it.

That's why ostriches die young.

Whoever talked to her has evidently decided to rectify his error.

Well, who the hell can get into this machine and put out a hit on me?

Only the president, the secretaries,

and a few under secretaries of defense and state,

the directors of the FBI, the CIA,

the chairman of the national security council,

and the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff.

Thank god it's nobody important.

Jesus, this is crazy.

It's not just you, John.

I had reason to check out all five of those guys

who came out of that jungle with you.

Holly Washington is dead.

I think Lou Goldberg is too.

Was it your people? I don't know.

Well, find out.

Look, first I get a tip on Holly and Lou.

Then I meet a girl who knows more about that goddamn raid

than anyone should.

Then there's the fact that I'm the one that sent you on it.

Now, it isn't on that computer, but it's a goddamn good bet

that my name is on that hit parade along with the rest of the Tigers.

Can't you warn them? Protect them? You can.

Minh Van Thieu?

What the hell is his name doing on here?

He was killed on that last raid.

Evidently not.

First listed as MIA, then POW,

we obviously paid him off by bringing him into this country.

He's cooking for some Peking style restaurant in San Francisco,

specializing in fried dumplings.

That's great. What else do you know that you may have forgotten to tell me?

There is something, but I just can't remember what it is.

That helps a hell of a lot.

Look, John, there's a lot I can't help you with.

The company has too many eyes.

So you're gonna have to warn those guys yourself.

This is my life you're screwing with, Murray.

It's mine too, friend.

Woman: Hello?

Gordie Jones, please. He's not home.

Where is he? At his uncle Sheffield's travel town.

Can I call him there?

He ain't got no phone there.

God, we don't owe you any money, do we, mister?

Look, you can find him at his uncle's.

Newsreader: And in Washington,

Secretary of State designate Conrad Morgan

goes before his final senate subcommittee hearing this morning.

Morgan's approval by the committee is virtually certain.

At 41...

Man: All aboard!

Hey, Gordie!

Hey, Sammy! How ya doin'? Not much business today, eh?

You doin' any? No, business isn't too good.

It's Major Booker, Gordie. John T. Booker.

I thought you were Sammy. You look just like Sammy.

Has anyone been to see you in the last few days?

Has anyone asked you about that last mission?

What I wish we had is pelicans instead of seagulls.

Who asked you about the last mission, Gordie?

Just yesterday. A lady. Maybe today. I told her about the pelicans.

Who the hell are you?

That's the lady, Major.

Margaret: Where are we going? John: Skiing.

Maybe we can get to Mike Potter before they do.

But I've got a rental car.

You're on an expense account. Don't worry.

I don't have any ski clothes! We'll get something.

Want some? No, thanks. Is it occupied?

Go to the bathroom.

Number one or number two?

The window seat, last row, left side as you go down the aisle.

An oriental.

See if you recognize him.

Looks like a waiter in a Chinese restaurant

I used to frequent in Des Moines.

I'll bet Chinese food in Des Moines is something to remember.

Is he following us? I'm not sure yet.

Maybe it's that waiter. I don't think I tipped him last time I was there.

Who did you talk to at that cocktail party in Washington?

Please don't ask. I'm almost certain I'll lie.

Make a call.

There's another one.

When you're silent, you're silent.

What are you thinking about?

Old friends.

Minh.

That guy on the plane was Minh.

Major Minh Van Thieu?

Another Black Tiger.

What don't you know? What did you talk to him about?

I never said a word to him in my life.

What about Murray Saunders?

I don't know any Murray Saunders.

You were someone named Marilyn.

That Murray Saunders.

What did he tell you? Nothing.

Good evening. You got here just in time.

For what? The snow is melting fast.

Is Mike Potter in? He's on the ski patrol.

Mike? No. Try his house. I'll dial it for you.

Do you want to take it over there?

He's not in.

Tomorrow's his day off. He's jump crazy.

He'll be on the jump first thing in the morning.

We better spend the night.

Do you have a room? Yeah, I think so.

Do you want to fill this out?

To what extent are we speaking to each other?

What do you want to talk about?

Well, I was wondering, for instance, if we're speaking enough

to share the only bed in the room.

Sure, we can share the bed.

Any enemies out there?

I'm just as worried about the enemy within.

Are you an enemy, Margaret? No.

You just happened to be there when Gordie was killed today.

Were you there when Lou and Holly got it too?

Are you some kind of finger man for whoever's doing this?

Finger person.

John, I haven't lied to you.

Including last night?

Especially last night.

You fit in somewhere.

So do you.

Mr Morgan, I want to thank you for the cooperation

you're affording this committee by your appearance here today.

Thank you, Senator.

And I want to assure you and the other members of the committee

that I fully understand the necessity for hearings such as these.

And I want you all to feel free to probe into any areas at all

that might be of interest to you.

I'm sure I can speak for the entire committee

when I say, sir, that such an attitude is deeply appreciated.

Because we've had to deal with...

Think he'll make it? Morgan?

Yeah. Oh, yes.

He's the new darling of Washington.

Senator: I'm sure you have.

The attitude of the nation today is far different from what it was

in those early days before Vietnam.

I think the American public today is far less eager...

We'd better get going.

Man on P.A.: Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,

and welcome to Squaw Valley, USA.

After being selected as the site of the 1960 winter Olympic games,

the entire Squaw Valley complex

was developed into one of the world's greatest ski areas

at a cost of over $25 million.

We are now standing in the lower terminal

of one of the world's most spectacular aerial tramways.

The terminal alone cost over 3.5 million 1960 dollars.

What snow we had this year is now melting rapidly.

So as we approach the top station,

we advise you to hurry out to the slopes

and make the most of what's left.

On behalf of Squaw Valley, USA,

I 'd like to thank you for joining us, and have a happy day.

I'm looking for Mike Potter.

You got him.

Major?

What the hell are you doing up here? Didn't you get my message?

You mean the code red? I thought that was a gag.

Alright, Mike, you're up.

Let's go in the shack. We've gotta talk.

Meet me at the bottom. Bring these with you.

Mike, wait.

Mike!

Oh, Jesus!

Jesus Christ, I thought I'd never find you.

There were cops all over the place up there.

I've got your clothes. You can change in the car.

Are you alright?

It was Minh, wasn't it? The woman he met at the airport.

I'm sorry about Mike.

Yeah, but there you were, right on the scene again.

I'm not the enemy, John. I told you that last night.

I think we better talk. Tell me!

Edgar Harolds.

Childhood sweetheart? A drunk at a cocktail party.

Who is he? Under Secretary of State.

A career man at the end of his career, maybe the end of his rope.

Goddamn it, who are you?

Edgar Harolds worked for Conrad Morgan during the Vietnam war

and he hates his guts.

Morgan on the TV?

The senate does more than question a man

who's nominated for Secretary of State.

Before Watergate, it was generally a formality.

Now, they do a pretty thorough job of it. They even hire attorneys to investigate.

What does that have to do with you? It's actually pretty funny.

I was invited to a cocktail party by the head of the committee.

Just a social event. I had barely started to work for him.

You're a lawyer? An investigator?

I'd been standing for hours

when I noticed this man sitting all alone at a table.

He looked pleasantly drunk and harmless.

Is Morgan mixed up in this? I don't know.

Harold's never mentioned his name, but it seems to me there's a connection.

The papers keep saying that his approval is assured.

How can that be if you told the committee...

I never told the committee anything!

You don't survive in Washington

by attacking men like Morgan without substantial facts.

I simply said I wanted to follow up on some leads and they said, “go.”

So the committee knows nothing about this?

Not yet. That's why we're taking the first plane east.

That could take days. I have to get to Joe Walker in Mexico.

He's the only man left. You're left.

And I want you to stay alive,

for personal reasons.

Do you believe me now?

Woman on P.A.: Your attention, please.

Will all passengers holding tickets for Intermountain flight 184

please contact the agent at the Intermountain ticket counter.

Is there any space on 322 to San Francisco and Washington?

Yes, ma'am. Round trip or one way?

One way. Round trip.

You'll need it, back to la.

Make mine one-way to LA, please. Next flight out.

Final call — flight 2 now boarding at gate number 21.

How about a farewell cup of coffee? Why not?

You better hurry. They're beginning to board.

Flight 300 from San Francisco... Have a good flight.

Now arriving at gate 10.

I'll do my damnedest to get them to delay the confirmation

but I'm gonna need you there to stop it, if Harolds'll talk.

I'll be there day after tomorrow.

Flight 62, now boarding at gate 21.

That's me.

You gonna wave goodbye? I have to turn in the rental car.

Oh, god, I left one with the meter running in San Diego!

The committee will love you.

They can ask for a bigger car rental budget next year.

Don't worry about us taxpayers.

'Bye.

Collect call, please. John T. Booker calling Murray Saunders.

Man on pa: The emergency over the runway

is causing no danger to the terminal area.

All persons in the terminal area

are asked to clear all gates and entrances to the field

so that emergency workers and equipment...

Hey there! Hold it!

Obey the commands of the airport guards and police officers

so that rescue workers may perform their duties as efficiently as possible.

I repeat, there is no danger to the terminal area.

Thank you for your cooperation.

What are you doing with that gun?

Jesus Christ, I should have figured it out.

It was a set up all the way.

That's what Harolds was trying to tell Margaret.

John, are you ok?

Yeah, thanks.

She wanted me to talk to him and get the proof we need.

I think our next stop is Washington.

Are you sure you've got Walker covered?

I still can't figure out why they suddenly decide to kill us all off.

Maybe Morgan found out that Harolds was about to crack.

Why didn't he arrange an accident for Harolds?

Five'll get you ten there's a damn good reason he didn't.

Let's go ask him.

Morning.

May I help you, gentlemen?

Yes, Mr. Harolds' apartment, please.

May I have your name? We want to surprise him.

I'm afraid we're not allowed to surprise our tenants.

Even if you were J. Edgar Hoover himself,

I couldn't allow you upstairs.

It's not likely he could be Mr. Hoover if he wanted to.

Not only is he the wrong colour, but Mr. Hoover is dead.

I'm sure you get my meaning.

Oh, yes, we do.

We want to make sure you get what we mean.

You see, my friend here is very cranky.

In fact, I'd say he's on the very edge of anger.

And in about five seconds, I'm gonna ask him to kick your teeth in

if you don't show us the way to Mr. Harolds' apartment.

Very well. Follow me.

He must have good teeth.

Remember what happened

the last time a Washington apartment was broken into for political reasons.

No, think about it. It altered the course of history.

My friend here is gonna alter the course of your nose

if you don't show us where the apartment is.

Of course, if you put it in that perspective...

Now. Now!

There it is.

Should we ring the buzzer or kick it in? No, I'll ring the bell.

Man: Yes?

Tell him it's you. It's me, Mr. Harolds.

Who? Louder. Be more specific.

Albert. Albert, the doorman.

What do you want?

Package. I've got a package.

It's alright, Albert. Thank you. You've been quite civilized.

Good morning, Mr. Harolds.

“My vengeance is swift, saith the lord.”

I expected it to be swift and very violent.

I haven't been disappointed.

Since the day you walked out of that hotel room in Paris,

I've been wondering if I might not see you again.

The fact that you are here now is testimony to your powers of survival.

Well, the test is not over yet.

I'd like you to meet John Booker.

Oh, Major Booker, the Shepherd of the betrayed flock.

That's what we're here to talk about.

Well, normally, I'd do what I've done all the years I've served my country

and feed you a line of shit.

But I don't think I'll bother.

Perhaps you're doing me a favour.

No, Major, there's no-one else here.

My wife and children had the good sense

to go on about their own lives years ago.

Do you have a family, Major?

I had plans, but they didn't work out.

Well, then perhaps you're fortunate.

So this is what I get for having too much to drink

and finding a receptive ear.

Can you imagine a career diplomat getting drunk and babbling

at a Washington cocktail party?

You don't get to be an old-timer here without learning not to do that,

unless you're over the hill.

An interesting phrase, 'over the hill'.

Conrad has been telling me for years that's where I am.

He's a brilliant man, Conrad.

Most of us think we know what we want out of life.

But Conrad is one of those few who knows how to get it.

Of course, he learned immediately of my drunken indiscretion.

The captured indiscreet remark is a source of power in Washington,

a lesson Conrad learned stroll.

I may have been the one who first taught him that.

Perhaps I am over the hill.

And she is a brilliant young woman, quite lovely.

There was something about her. I... I just wanted to talk to her.

But, of course, you must know that by now, Major.

Your being the leader of the Black Tigers,

I assume she must have gone directly to you.

Of course, Morgan assumed the same thing.

His efforts to find out just how much you knew

and whom you might have told have probably kept you alive.

Four of the men who came back with me

weren't as lucky.

My condolences, of course, will seem meaningless.

I was there in the beginning

when they invented the Phoenix operation.

Do you know what everyone was most upset about?

Oh, not the idea that we were consciously structuring a group of men

whose purpose was the clandestine murder of other men.

Not the moral ramifications that might befall us in another life

for the decision based on political expediency.

Oh, no.

What we got most embroiled in was an argument over

what a particular group of assassins — That we decided to call the Black Tigers...

What that group of assassins would wear

when they went out to relieve selected individuals of their very lives.

Finally, after a great deal of bitter argument,

we determined to dress the Black Tigers in all black.

The commission was then paid to a noted designer, who shall be nameless,

who designed the black clothing the Black Tigers wore as they rolled out

on their holy crusades.

You made quite a reputation for yourselves.

Mr Morgan? Mr Harolds has some visitors.

No, sir, I'm not sure,

but I think one of them is Murray Saunders from the Los Angeles office.

You want them stopped?

Right, and a man on Harolds. You've got it.

We were set up.

Oh, yes.

What was the deal?

When I was a younger man, I knew I was going to be Secretary of State

or perhaps even president.

If I tell you the answer to that question,

I may not even be afforded the opportunity to retire next year

with a modicum of dignity left to me.

But then, I suppose your life is not nearly so inconsequential to you

as it is to Mr. Morgan, or even to me.

Well...

I hope this letter's the answer. It's the best shot we've got.

Ok, Saunders. I want that letter.

Listen, ai.

Somebody got into that computer and this letter proves it.

The letter, Murray.

Come on, come on, come on!

Get the letter. I'll cover you. Ok. Watch out!

Enjoy the fight? Terrific.

Here it is.

Why would this guy live halfway to Baltimore?

Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with Spiro Agnew.

It wasn't very hard to get an appointment with the big man.

Morgan's very interested in what he thinks we might have to sell.

Ah, good morning, Saunders. Good morning, Morgan.

I don't believe I've had the pleasure.

A gentleman whom I'm sure will add to our discussion.

I see.

John T. Booker.

Well, Saunders, I trust this rather unusual meeting

is as important as you indicated.

Something, I believe you said, to do with our last rather unusual meeting

something, yes. But with one notable addition.

Coffee? No, thanks.

Can we get on with it?

As you may have heard, I have a rather busy day ahead of me.

You made a secret deal in Paris with Koung Yen,

the North Vietnamese negotiator.

Secret deals are the heart of diplomacy, Mr. Booker.

This deal called for the murder of the Black Tigers.

Murder, Mr. Booker?

One other American knows about it and he talked.

At first, I couldn't figure out

why you didn't try to kill Harolds along with the rest of us.

He told me.

He sent a registered letter to four lawyers,

none of whom you know.

The letters were to be opened in the event of his untimely death.

Early Agatha Christie.

And just as effective.

The letters explain what was known between you and Koung Yen

as the Phoenix solution.

I couldn't figure out what Major Minh was doing popping in and out of my life.

At first, I assumed he worked for them, whoever 'they' were.

But of course, 'they' are you, and you are all one.

Oh, I see. “We have met the enemy and they is us.”

Comic strip philosophy, Mr. Booker.

Agreed, and now Koung Yen is manipulating you

like the comic strip diplomat you are.

He waited patiently until the moment of your greatest vulnerability,

the Eve of your confirmation as Secretary of State.

And now he's blackmailing you into completing the deal you never finished...

The extermination of the Black Tigers.

Well, they are very unforgiving people.

Toward you or the Black Tigers?

Toward us, Mr. Booker. 'We' is us. Perhaps.

Interesting document.

Morgan, you're gonna pick up that phone and call the White House.

Sudden personal problems are going to prevent you

from accepting the nomination as Secretary of State.

If you don't, the news media is gonna have one hell of a time with that letter.

I understand, Major Booker, that you were quite a jungle fighter.

This is my kind of jungle, Major.

No. No, I...

I just don't think it would be expedient for me to resign at this time.

Expedient?!

Just like it was expedient to send us on that POW raid?

Expedience built this country, Major Booker.

It was expedient for this great democracy

to have legal slavery for half its existence.

And it was expedient to keep the vote from women for 150 years.

Expedient to declare war on Spain and Mexico and to invade Cambodia.

From the halls of Montezuma, Major Booker, to the shores of Tripoli.

And it was expedient, goddamn it, to get rid of the Black Tigers.

The end still justifies the means.

I don't buy that.

It occurs to me that most of those who follow your logic

end up in places like elba and San Clemente.

Come, now... Check your history, Morgan.

Most of our expedient wars ended up in failure.

Our successes didn't just happen because they were expedient.

Those Americans you spoke of gave up their lives willingly.

Does that really make such a difference?

It makes all the goddamn difference, Morgan.

People like you never could see that and maybe they never will.

It's not that you don't deserve to be Secretary of State.

You don't deserve to live.

Well, now, that's an interesting philosophy, but...

But philosophy is bullshit, right, Morgan?

Well, that letter isn't.

I tell you what.

You take this letter over to the 'Washington post' with my best regards.

But you tell them they're gonna have a hard time verifying that with Harolds

because visitors are not allowed in the Bethesda hospital psychiatric ward.

Yes, it was a shame. A shame.

They found him crawling on the floor

and howling like a banshee.

Took four men just to put him into the straitjacket.

Nervous disorder, they called it, but actually, he's quite mad.

Hello? I'd like to check on the condition of a Mr. Harolds, Edgar J.

Thank you.

A letter written by a madman is hardly what they call prime evidence,

is it, Mr. Booker?

Well, as I told you, gentlemen, I have rather a busy day ahead of me,

so if you'll excuse me, I'm sure you can find your own way out.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Booker.

Tragic news about your lady friend. Margaret, was it?

All that information she had must have been irreplaceable.

Tragic.

You bastard!

Wait a minute.

Accelerator pedal working alright today?

Work for Morgan?

Do you?

We're running a little late, Franklin.

Man on TV: Secretary of State Morgan will become

one of the youngest men ever to achieve this high office.

He's described as one of the new breed of diplomats for the '70s.

Although still in his early 403,

Morgan has had a long and distinguished career

as one of America's leading diplomats.

His skill at top level negotiations

has made him one of the few state department leaders to...

Franklin, where are we going?

Franklin, I said, “where are we going?”

Good morning, Mr. secretary.

Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?

You said I was a good jungle fighter.

Well, I'm also a fast learner.

Alright, now, you stop this car, you fool.

Relax, Morgan, we're just going to talk.

Alright, go ahead. Talk!

What you said about expedience made a hell of a lot of sense.

I see there's only one way to deal with people like you — expediently.

You won all the battles, Morgan, but you're gonna lose this war.

How would you like to be an MIA?

What are you talking about?

When it comes time for your swearing in today, you're not gonna be there.

I'll be there. Uh uh.

You're dreaming, Booker.

Am I?

Booker, they're going to come looking for me.

You can't just disappear a secretary of state without arousing someone's ire.

Let 'em look.

Alright, Booker. Tell me, what's your plan, huh?

If you get away with this, Morgan,

it'll betray every guy that ever died in any war we ever had.

And god knows how many more people you'll kill in the future.

I'm not gonna let it happen.

You're insane. It won't work.

You can bet your ass it will.

Crazy, goddamn idiot!

You stop this car! You hear me?

Stop this car or I'll... I'll kill you!

You're panicking, Morgan.

Stop the goddamn car!

Man on radio: The Greenpeace Foundation in San Francisco

says the Russians are using 250 pound explosive...

Are you ok?

Which are against international treaties.

In Washington, meantime,

the state department has an even bigger headache.

Who will be its new boss?

Conrad Morgan, who was due to be sworn in this morning,

suddenly asked the president to withdraw his name.

Come on. I'll give you a lift.

Morgan himself has been unavailable for comment.

He is said to be keeping a low profile

in a secret hideaway on Chesapeake Bay.

There you go.

Also unavailable for comment this morning

is Morgan's long time deputy, Edgar Harolds?

It is speculated that Harolds might now be nominated for the job,

but he is reportedly in the Bethesda Naval Hospital

undergoing his annual physical examination.

Morgan's withdrawal came as a shock to most...

Booker: I see you've had a busy morning too.

Murray: Yeah, it was nothing like yours.