Original subtitles

18 nautical miles northeast of Gitmo. Take a heading of 230, over.

904, Gitmo. Say again? You're breaking up. Over.

Light. Zero.

Two, three, zero.

904, Gitmo.

904, are you reading, Gitmo?

Probably lost his radio, too.

Keep trying.

Captain Boggs, sir.

That tomcat ferrying in from Pax River just suffered a lightning strike and

all nav and radio communications.

He's wandering into Cuba, sir. He's got company.

Any time you catch a violent improvement in airspace, drop your landing gear and

follow me on the building gate.

He's gone, sir.

It's open.

Thank God.

No model airplane.

They're in the bedroom.

Are you anal or is there an epicurean reason for separating those eggs?

Makes it fluffier omelet.

A little trick your mother taught you? A marine colonel.

That's a joke. I don't get it.

No joke, Commander.

Am I in uniform?

Not exactly.

And it's Allison.

You're famished. Is there enough for two?

Not if you're famished. What do you want, Commander?

To warn you.

Ever hear of an Admiral Chugwooden?

Yeah, he has JAG in the Pacific.

Starting Monday, he has JAG period.

He's our new CO and very ambitious.

I want him to be the next Chief of Naval Operations.

Never happened. Navy's not going to make a lawyer top dog.

Why not?

He knows their John Paul Jones types.

Crusty old sea dogs with 30 years of spray in their face, not lawyers.

Oh, but Ted Wooden started as a field in Vietnam.

Transferred to the fleet where he commanded a destroyer before getting a

degree and joining JAG.

He's broken every rule of advancement.

Gone from one branch of the Navy to the next and surfed the crest of them all.

Man's a genius at changing horses in midstream and jumping on the faster

Sounds like you should be running for president.

First things first.

What's the warning, Commander?

The Admiral has an aide who's a killer.

You're the rising young star in JAG, and that's a threat to her ambitions.

Her ambitions?

I'm the Admiral's aide.

You have nothing to worry about, Commander. I'm not that good or

The hell you're not.

It's one of the reasons why I want to sleep with you.

Now, isn't this where the Navy expects me to say, yellow light, Commander?

I'll make you feeling sexually harassed.

I'm feeling something sexual.

Dad.

One more warning.

Whatever our private relationship, as long as you serve under me, you'll have

tough time earning a Sea Scout badge.

Well, I wouldn't have it any other way, man.

I know.

Now, do I get some breakfast?

I'll cut off at the nearest diner.

At ease, Mr. Rabb.

Your record here reads like a cross between Top Gun and A Few Good Men.

Sorry about that, sir.

I'm not.

Navy needs heroes.

Now more than ever.

pilloried in the press by liberal media, underfunded by election -driven

Congress, and shooting ourselves in the foot every time a sailor gets horny.

Yes, sir.

Now, if I repeated those words to the press, Secretary of the Navy would

my resignation.

For while my words are as true as the blue ice in the Arctic, they're

politically incorrect.

In today's Navy, Mr. Rabb sails on the sea of political correctness.

Yes, sir.

Know who that is, Commander?

Admiral Arleigh Burke.

31 -knot Burke.

Bull Halsey called him that after he charged the destroyers full speed in a

Japanese battle fleet in the dark.

Outgunned and outnumbered, sent them running.

Turned the tide of the war in the Pacific.

Ten years later, President Eisenhower promoted him over 92 senior officers to

become chief of naval operations.

Why?

He was aggressive, and that's what we're going to be.

While the rest of the Navy rides out this media storm in port, we're going to

attack. The media, sir?

Since you have the hot hand in JAG, I'm going to give you the hot

investigations. I expect results and headlines, positive headlines. Can you

handle that, Mr. Rabb?

I'll do my best, sir.

If you can't, I'll drop you in my wake faster than my garbage.

Understood, Admiral.

Good.

Commander Krennic. Sir?

At 2350 hours last night, a Tomcat varying from Pax River to Guantanamo Bay

communications after being hit by lightning. It overflew Cuba, where it

forced down and captured intact.

It's a D -model with our latest attack radar and ECM systems.

Computer expert can download that software in less than a day. So we need

legal position to justify destroying the Tomcat. We're not going to destroy the

Tomcat, Mr. Rabb.

No SEAL strike team, no cruise missiles, no laser bombs. We're going to talk it

back. The Cubans offered to open negotiations and the state accepted.

By the time we shake hands, that software will be gone.

It's not our call, but it doesn't mean we can't use our initiative, Mr. Rabb.

Commander Krennic and some slug from the state will handle the negotiations

while you find out if that software is intact.

And if it is, sir?

Destroy it, Mr. Rabb.

Will do, sir.

Dismissed.

Aye, aye, sir.

Commander Krennic?

Admiral?

You're not carrying a grudge against Lieutenant Commander Raab because he

you in Naples, are you?

Far from it, sir.

I think he's just the challenge I needed.

Five chips.

All they have to do is download five chips and they'll have what makes the

Tomcat so lethal.

The pilot?

Your wings are glinting, Commander.

Just pointing out that there's more to combat flying than computer systems.

I know that, sir. But those five chips give the Tomcat a big edge.

Edge that the Iranians will trade a lot of oil for.

That's right. They've got F -14s we sold to the Shah.

They haven't been maintained, Commander.

They're a bigger threat to their pilots than anyone.

Not true.

The Iranians have hired Russian technicians to recondition them.

Thirty minutes ago, one of those techno -mercenaries, an avionics expert by the

name of Alexei Barkov, landed in Havana.

Why is Castro willing to negotiate with us if he's made a deal with the

Iranians? They probably figure we'll never know Barkov downloaded the data.

Yeah, until we're up against Iranian F -14s as good as ours.

They'll never be as good as ours unless we're flying them.

The Russians are training their pilots, too, Commander.

And you believe that will make them as good as an American naval aviator?

Your wings aren't just glinting, Commander.

Now they're positively ruffling.

Maybe I'd better flap.

You're going to fly?

This mission's on the Navy's nickel, sir.

Why let the Air Force jocks have all the fun?

I'm surprised you brought him down here with you, Commander.

He doesn't strike me as the negotiating type.

He's the Tomcat pilot and a lawyer. A lethal combination in our negotiations.

To the Cubans or us?

Where's the stick?

It's built in on Air Force pilots, Commander.

7 Zulu requesting clearance to Los Baños.

Diplomatic Flight 7 Zulu, I have no authorization to clear you into Cuban

airspace. No, no, no.

Havana Approach Control claims they know nothing about us and are denying

landing clearance.

That's ridiculous.

The Swiss Embassy faxed me our clearance this morning.

Here.

Signed by Fidel Castro.

Obviously someone didn't pass the word along.

All right, we're going to have to put down until I straighten this thing out.

Sir, Secretary says to land at the nearest field until he can straighten us

We can't afford to lose the time.

I know, sir.

I'll contact Miami Approach.

That's not the closest field, Lieutenant.

Yes, sir, it is. Los Banos is closer.

The Cubans just denied us clearance, Commander.

My bird, Lieutenant.

Havana Approach Control, you are entering Cuban airspace.

Turn back now.

Havana Approach, Havana Approach, 7 Zulu.

We have an emergency and request a straight -in approach to Los Vaneos.

7 Zulu, Havana Approach, what is the nature of your emergency? Sir, the

secretary wants to know why we're not turning back.

He told me to land at the nearest field. It's in Cuba.

Harm? He'll have a heart attack.

Savannah, 7 Zulu, we have a medical emergency.

A passenger is going into cardiac arrest.

I'm out of here.

7 Zulu, I'm on approach.

Your emergency landing is denied.

Turn back now.

This is my last warning.

They will intercept us with me.

Got a problem, Air Force?

No, sir. I just want to remind the commander he's not flying a Tomcat. We

have any weapons.

We'll have to outfly him.

Yes, sir.

He's going to get us all killed.

They're not going to shoot down a diplomatic mission they know has

They don't know. Somebody screwed up. Of course they know. They're stalling to

get Barkov as much time as possible to download those chips.

What's wrong, Commander?

They'll shoot us down.

Here they come.

It's like we're going to play chicken.

Let this bird roll, Lieutenant.

You're not going to puke are you?

Los Anjos Tower, this is diplomatic flight 7 Zulu on an emergency approach.

Say your winds and altimeter setting, please.

7 Zulu, you cannot land here. This is a military base.

No problem, Los Anjos. We have a military escort.

Piloto de 7 Zulu, your military escort will shoot you down if you do not

immediately climb to 5 ,000 feet.

We got two of them, one tight on their six, the other a thousand feet high.

Los Peños!

Is this bird loop as good as she rolls?

Gear down!

Oh, very nice.

Flop!

Flop!

1 ,500 feet. 1 ,000 feet.

500 feet. Running out of runway.

about that i forgot we don't have a tail hook

we're here

you told them i was having

a heart attack medical emergency was the only legal way to land in cuba

international law states that no ship or aircraft in an emergency can be turned

away they took my blood pressure and they gave me a shot in the ass Probably

inoculation, sir.

Don't get smart with me, Mr. Rabb, or you'll be piloting a harbor tug in Guam.

The important thing, Mr. Secretary, is that we are in Cuba. Thanks to you

a medical emergency. Which is how I intend to write it up in my report.

What is it, Harb?

A Tomcat running at Grand Isle.

I thought I heard it earlier.

Wind must have shifted.

I didn't see a Tomcat when we landed, of course.

I didn't have much time to look around.

Yeah, sounds contained.

Must be in a hangar at the other end of the field.

Think the Cubans are moving it because we're here?

No, it's too risky. They don't have any pilots checked out in Tomcats.

Those turbines will over -temp if they keep running at ground idle.

Maybe they're trying to burn them out.

Then even if we make a deal, the Tomcat will sit here until we replace the

engine. No, they're running them because they don't have a compatible APU.

Speak English?

An auxiliary power unit.

A generator to run the Tomcat's electrical systems on the ground.

They're using the turbines to provide internal power.

To run our avionics.

Complimented, piloto.

I never knew a Leo could fly like that.

Neither did I, sir.

Lieutenant Commander Rav was flying.

Oh, so you are the one who eluded me, Commander.

Well, I had the advantage of ignorance. I wouldn't want to try twice.

Please don't.

I can assure you next time, sir, it will be fatal.

Capitán.

Fuente. At your service, señor.

Assistant Secretary of State Baer.

We had clearance to land, Capitán Fuente, and I don't understand why it

denied. Storms, señor secretary.

Storms? The same ones that disabled your tomcat cut communications throughout

Cuba. We only received your clearance moments ago. My apologies, señor.

But I have arranged for accommodations at my hacienda. There you can freshen

take a siesta, and be my guest for dinner.

That is most gracious of you, Capitano. But we prefer the bargaining table to

the dining one.

You are in charge.

Commander... Krennic.

I'm to negotiate the return of United States Navy personnel and property, and

wish to begin as soon as possible.

First, I'd like to see the... But, Commander, forgive me, but you are in

not the United States.

Our pace is...

More civilized. After dinner, we shall discuss the personnel and property of

United States Navy, which fate has fortuitously placed into our custody.

I insist upon seeing the pilot that you've detained in violation of

international law.

You are in no position to insist on anything, Commander.

However, in deference to your maternal instincts, I will have your piloto join

us for dinner.

Maternal instincts?

I'll eat his liver.

Are you familiar with the tale of the tiger and the lady?

No, but you can whisper it in my ear after bed check.

Muchas gracias.

That's

an

illegal cigar, Lieutenant.

I didn't buy it, sir.

We're here to negotiate. If we start accepting gifts, it could compromise our

position now as your senior officer.

It's my duty to confiscate them. Keep your grubby hands off my cigars. Come

Meg, you won't appreciate it. Oh, are you saying because you're male you're

going to appreciate it more than me?

Not because I'm male, because I love cigars. You're not going to love this

sir.

Señor.

Muchas gracias, señor.

De nada.

Los Baños produces many fine cigars here.

Even, um, he smoked them.

Castro? Si.

His son was quite brave.

Yes. There are many brave men here.

Brave and willing.

Willing? To do what?

Anything you ask, senora.

Cuban contracts?

Or a secret police setting and so on.

What was this business?

Didn't anyone say Castro's name?

Not in conversation.

Now you just struck your chin instead.

Keeter!

You do harm.

You're the pilot.

Pray so, buddy.

Lieutenant J .G. Austin, Lieutenant Commander Jack Keeter, my roommate at

Academy and the second best naval aviator I know.

The CAG being the first, sir?

Ooh, I do like a bold female officer, Lieutenant.

Bold doesn't have a damn thing to do with it, Meg.

I'll tell Commander Krennic you're here, sir.

You can still pick them, buddy.

If she was assigned to me.

Yeah, right. I thought you were a test pilot at Pax River.

I am.

Maybe you wanted a tomcat at Gitmo.

I wanted to get out of the cold for a weekend.

Should have froze my six instead of screwing the pooch.

Is that what you did?

You ask him, buddy, or Jack?

Me. Why didn't you eject and let your tomcat auger in?

You've punched out once.

You want to do that again?

Not if I had a choice.

Well, I've ejected twice. Last time I cracked some vertebrae.

Took me a year to get back on flight status.

I heard.

Felt like the bad guys don't have F -14s. Hell, the Iranians got 80 of them.

Yeah, but not with state -of -the -art avionics.

The lightning fried all the software.

I hope so, Peter.

It wouldn't build you harm.

Here. This is where the lightning struck.

It damaged the communication and navigation system. So you can extract

of value?

No, no, quite the contrary.

The attack radar is only slightly damaged, and the electronic

are completely intact.

How long will it take you to copy the system?

The turbines must be shut down every hour and 30 minutes, or they burn out.

By tomorrow night, I will have downloaded everything, and he will have

Iranian oil to see Cuba.

to the next revolution.

Excellent.

Soon we will have sufficient oil to fuel our homes and industries, our tractors,

our cars, To carry the revolution into the 21st century.

Your Spanish is excellent, Lieutenant Austin.

Gracias, Capitan Fuente.

I have the feeling, Capitan Fuente, that his speech is for our benefit.

You've broken our little code, Commander.

It's as obvious as the message he's sending us.

Message to you?

He's speaking to the people of Cuba.

In any case...

The United States Navy is very grateful to Cuba for granting safe haven to our

aircraft in distress and wish to compensate you for your humanitarian

You seem to be worth a great deal, Commander.

Or is it the tomcat?

Both are important to us, Capitan.

Important enough to lift your oil embargo?

We had a financial reward in mind.

Ah. We have oil in mind.

A decision of that magnitude can only be made in Washington.

And would require more time than is allotted for this negotiation.

Well, we don't know that, Commander Krennic.

There is a secure phone in our lair.

If I may be permitted to use it, I can put in your request immediately.

By all means, Senior Secretary.

Lieutenant Commander Austin, please stay.

As Commander Panik has said, this speech has bearing on our negotiations, and

you are the only delegate who understands our language.

I wouldn't flash a yellow. I'd go straight to red around here.

I assume the commander was referring to a stoplight?

And it...

Stoplight has something to do with sexual advances.

Why would you think that?

Well, a warning from a man to a woman left alone with another man usually

It's part of our Navy's sexual sensitivity training.

It's an inoffensive way to signal a male when his speech or behavior is

inappropriate. The most powerful Navy in the world actually teaches this?

In the garden, approach the sex.

It worked.

Lieutenant.

Sometimes. And are Navy women permitted to signal green lights?

I suppose so.

And what would I have to do to get a green light, Lieutenant Austin?

Yellow light, Captain Fuente.

We're wasting valuable time, Commander. This deal's never going to fly.

He's right, Mr. Secretary.

The president isn't even close to reestablishing trade with Cuba.

But the importance of retrieving your tomcat may be the impetus necessary to

change his mind. Even if we get a yes from Washington, by the time we get it,

those chips are intact, Barkov will have downloaded them.

Oh, you have a better idea, Commander?

No, sir. I thought not.

You just lied to an assistant secretary of state.

I don't trust him.

So, what's your idea?

Use the contra to get me to the airport.

And if he's secret police?

Well, he'll have to rescue me from prison.

I'll get thrown in the same cell with you.

Well, no sense in my going. You're staying behind.

You know what this reminds me of?

Ha, ha, ha.

Barcelona. Ha, ha, ha. Summer cruise. Our second year.

You and me strode two way bonitas cianitas down a colony just like this.

to ditch their ants.

We trying to ditch these ants?

I gotta take a look at you, Tomcat.

That software's pride harm. There's nothing to worry about.

Then why do the Iranians have a Russian computer pro at the airport?

How did you land a Tomcat at night in weather without instruments?

Hey, I'm a hell of a pilot, bud.

Not even God's that good, Keeter. I have my instruments. My avionics were out.

Circuit breakers could have popped. Internal fuses blown.

Oh, so what do you think? I screwed the pooch? Yeah, I think you did, Keeter.

But what bothers me is it's not something you'd do unintentionally.

You need help, see?

Thank God they got the engine. I need two minutes in the head without being

seen.

That fuel truck is easy to blow.

No, what I do must look like an accident. So must your diversion.

You are the impossible.

You said anything I asked.

I've got a big mouth.

I'll be amply rewarded.

I do not do this for money, nor for the United States.

I do this for uncovalible.

Uranium oil that will only keep me in power.

My apologies, Ravel.

I will think of something.

We have shut down again.

What's going on?

Lieutenant Commander Rabb is missing.

Until he is found, you will all be confined in the casa.

What's going on?

Where have you been?

I was in my room.

We searched your room. You weren't there.

You're making this very difficult, Captain. It is nothing compared to what

happen if you don't stop lying.

Okay.

I wasn't in my room.

I was in Lieutenant Austin's room with her.

Evidently, you give green light to some officers, Lieutenant.

I want to see you both now.

I apologize, Captain Fuente.

I hope this won't jeopardize our negotiations.

Your government is willing to lift the embargo?

We're to have a decision by noon tomorrow.

Until then, Lieutenant Commander Kira and the other piloto will be returned to

the airfield under military custody.

The rest of you will be confined to the casa. Anyone leaving will be shot.

You two weren't really in bed, were you?

Well... No, ma 'am.

Well, where the hell were you?

At the airfield.

Doing what?

Watching Barkov. I assume it was Barkov.

Download data into a computer.

You see, I told you we were wasting time.

Don't blame this on me, Commander.

State did not lose that Tomcat. Hey, hey, relax.

The Iranians aren't going to get the software.

I sabotaged the Tomcat.

You did what?

What's wrong, Mr. Secretary?

What's wrong?

What's wrong is that we wanted the Iranians to get those chips.

Do you have any idea the damage you have done, Commander Rabb?

The damage he's done? You're the ziplip that wouldn't let us in on the rules of

the game.

Insults are childish, Commander.

It's satisfying.

So the software in our Tomcat is bogus. Oh, no.

Those five chips are very real. Then why in God's name would you want the

Iranians to copy them?

They built in a virus.

What triggers it? The attack radar.

If they paint any American aircraft or warship, the virus activates and it

their avionics back to the Stone Age.

That's brilliant.

It would have been if Lieutenant Curander Rabb hadn't have interfered.

we say, who do you work for?

It's none of your damn business.

Who do you work for?

I don't say!

Did you know about this?

No, and the Admiral didn't either.

Lieutenant Commander Cater? He was a volunteer for a Black Hawk.

He didn't know details until takeoff.

You faked the lightning strike? We shorted out the nav system to make it

good.

We even electrically burnt the fuselage.

And if that doesn't fool Barkov, Our computer has run this scenario a hundred

times.

The Markov character never tumbled to our game.

How many times did your computer create a scenario where the Raft character blew

up the context?

How did you sabotage it?

With a Navy -issued 34 -inch brass -tipped cinch.

What the hell is that?

My belt.

Dropped it inside an engine intake.

Any turbine strong enough to suck in a man should tear loose a belt. Right.

So it eats a belt.

So what?

So goodbye, Tomcat. The buckle will shatter the impeller blades, which will

like shrapnel into the fuel tanks, detonating them.

Like I said, goodbye, Tomcat.

We haven't heard an explosion.

They're still letting the turbines cool down.

So you can still stop it. You stop it, Agent Bear. I'm going to smoke a cigar

and watch the fireworks.

You saw Barkov downloading those chips.

That's what I said. The virus is in the last chip.

Hey, that's your pro... That's right, Commander.

That Tomcat blows before Barkov downloads the last chip. He'll have our

software, but not the virus.

Lindsay!

One more jeep to go.

Captain Fuente.

I'd like a word with you, sir.

May I?

Please.

What I'm about to say could get me court -martialed and imprisoned as a traitor.

I lied to you about being with Lieutenant Austin in her bedroom.

I was at the airfield.

sabotaging our Tomcat.

The software system Alexei Barkov is downloading for the Iranians is phony.

Secretary Baer, who's with NSA, not State, was running the sting without the

Navy's knowledge and therefore without my knowledge.

So, thinking that valuable software was going to fall into the hands of the

Iranians, I put a bomb in the Tomcat. Are you with me so far?

I think so.

Then you see why it's in Cuba's interest to help me.

No. The president will never lift the oil embargo in an election year. Too

anti -Castro votes in Miami.

So Cuba's going to have to get the oil from Iran in exchange for the software

our Tomcat.

Which is phony.

The Iranians don't know that, and if you don't tell them, who will?

Help me, Captain, and we both win.

Turn me in.

Iran wins.

How would you disarm the bomb without Barkov knowing?

Same way I put it there, with a diversion.

I want you to blow the airfield fuel truck.

Blow the fuel truck.

Gives me the diversion I need and the added illusion that I'm trying to

the Tomcat to prevent the theft of the software.

Of course, I'll have to escape in the Learjet with Lieutenant Commander Keeter

to complete the charade.

You realize I will have to give chase.

I understand.

That's the only one flaw, Commander Rabb.

What's that?

This could all be an elaborate plan to put a bomb in your tomcat.

Good.

But it isn't.

I would like more than your word.

That's all I can give you, Captain Fuente.

The word of one naval aviator to another.

I don't believe it.

He blew

the damn thing up.

Did he?

What?

What? What's going on?

What the hell are you doing, Harm? You're flying south.

Float us that way.

They catch us over the water. Before we were halfway there, we're heading south.

12 to 13 minutes, we'll be out of Cuban airspace, and 30 after that, we'll be

in... Ha -ha!

The Cayman Islands!

Ha -ha -ha!

This may turn out to be a decent weekend after all.

I'm out of control, Los Baños Guardians. We have a Learjet fleeing to Florida.

Can you assist?

Over. Guardian de los Baños. Havana, I have no unidentified targets between you

and La Florida.

Over. Havana de los Baños, he must be flying low in the mountains. We'll take

him up when he makes a run for it over the water. Los Baños out.

How could you forget her?

I didn't forget her. I forgot her name.

Maria Elena Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez.

How the hell did you remember?

Our first tour in the Seahawk. We took liberty in Barcelona.

You took out my girl?

Your girl? You don't remember her name.

Oh, that's not the point. You don't build a classmate by dating a Segundo

girl.

Turn back at once or be shot down.

Four more minutes and we clear Cuban airspace.

Think it's on to us?

Yeah. He's searching for us between Havana and Key West.

Learjet, Los Banos Guardians, this is your last warning. Turn north

North? Damn it, Harm, he said north. He's on our six.

Learjet, you have ten seconds to comply.

Nine.

Adios, amigos.

Hang on, Cheetah!

Help, Cheetah! Help me pull her out!

Come on, baby, pull out!

We just acted in a Cuban airspace.

Los Banos Guardians, 7 Zulu.

We just checked into Cuban airspace and are making contact with Grand Cayman

Approach.

You're back.

Where's Meg?

I dropped her off at her place and decided to come here. I need a hot bath,

good breakfast, and a long weekend in bed.

You up to it?

There's a woman in your shower.

Commander, I'd like you to meet Maria Elena Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez.