All language subtitles for The.Rock.1996.1080p.BrRip.x264.YIFY-eng

Subtitles downloaded from Podnapisi.NET

We can't hold out much longer, sir.

General Hummel, you've got
to get us out of here now!

I won't let you down.
I won't let you down, son.

Goddamn it, sir!
How long do we have to wait?

I've lost 15 men already!

Sir, they're lighting us up
like a firestorm!

This is Gen. Hummel.
You gotta get my men outta there!

We don't have clearance
to go behind enemy lines, sir.

They're not comin'
for us, are they, sir?

Congressman Weaver and esteemed members
of the Special Armed Services Committee,

I come before you
to protest a grave injustice.

Aim!

It has to stop.

I miss you so much.

There's somethin'
I've gotta do, Barb.

Somethin' I couldn't do
while you were here.

I tried.

You know I tried everything,
and I still don't have their attention.

Let's hope this elevates
their thinking.

But whatever happens...

please don't think less of me.

Marine! Inform the garrison C.O.
that Gen. Hummel's coming on board...

- with a security inspection team.
- Yes, sir.

Sir, it's an honor having you, sir.

Aah!

- Uuh!
- Oof!

Ya know, at least we can get some--

- Yeah, I'll tell ya-- Uuh!
- Ooh!

- Aah! Aah!

Uuh!

I got the access card. We got
30 minutes 'til those darts wear off.

Move it!

The access card, sir.

Let's do it.

Twenty-four hundred
magazine check.

- Man, it's wet out there.
- Check me through, will ya?

Clear!

- I want 16, Major.
- Move it!

- Evac! Seal the door!
- No! No!

Come on, man, seal it! Seal it!

No-o-o!

Lemme outta here! Oh, God!
Lemme outta here! Oh, God!

Lemme outta here! God!

Clear out.
Get outta here!

- Please!
- Sorry.

Let's move out.

Two more CCs of acetylene chloride.

That'll be five dollars,
Isherwood.

You suck.

You guys have too much time
on your hands.

Yes! She's here.
Bring it to me now. Thank you, Phil.

What's that?
Why'd you get it sent here?

Carla wouldn't approve. She thinks
it's dumb to spend $600 on an L.P.

Carla's right. Why don't you just
spend $13.00 on a CD, man?

First of all,
it's because I'm a Beatlemaniac.

And second, these sound better.

- Could be serious.

Could be sarin gas.

Dog out at J.F.K. caught a whiff
of something in this package...

postmarked
to a Bosnian refugee camp.

It could be detergent;
it could be sarin gas.

Bosnian refugee camp?

Half a million Serbians reside in
the U.S. Serbians don't like Bosnians.

You guys wanna get suited up?

- Bring the cockroaches?
- Got 'em.

We have airlock, Stanley.
You're all set to go.

October 1, 0900 hours.

Agent Stanley Goodspeed,
Agent Trainee Marvin Isherwood...

initiating exam of wooden crate.

Suspicion of sarin gas inside.

- Marvin, sarin is a--
- G.B. aerosol.

That is correct.
I see we have some dirty magazines.

Stone Age Cavegirls In the Raw.
Kinky.

And, uh-- Not a good sign.

Helloo-oo-oo, little baby doll.
Look it, Stan.

- Hi, there, Stanley!
- Marvin, don't!

- Hiya, Stan!

Shit! Move back!
Move back!

- Power landings offed.
- Hang on, guys.

We'll have that room cleared
in 50 seconds. You're going to be okay.

Jesus Christ!

Okay, I've got some bad news
and some really bad news.

The bad news is that the gas is
corrosive and it's eating our suits.

- It's all over my hand, man.
- The really bad news...

is there's enough C-4 explosive and
poison gas to blow the whole chamber...

- and kill everybody in the building.
- Detonation too heavy.

- Everybody, out of the room, now!
- Seal us inside.

Where are the sprinklers,
Lonner?

The acid's eating my su-- It's eating
my fucking suit, all right? Shit.

Just wash us off.
Where are my sprinklers?

We're working on it.
It's just a flow problem.

Well, it's a pretty big friggin'
problem, Lonner. Fix it now!

We're working on it! How much time
do you have on that detonator?

- A minute, ten.
- Hey, look at this!

We're gonna have the room clear.

- Tell 'em to take the atropine, now.
- The atropine, Isherwood.

- What?
- Where's my water? One minute!

Marvin, the atropine! Inject it
in your heart before your suit melts.

Shh-it!

- Make him take his dose!
- Where's that water?

- Get that away from me!
- Come on, Phil, fix it,
for Christ's sake!

- Take the atropine now,
Stan, for Christ's sake!
- We're fucked.

- Poison's mixing.
- What the fuck are you waiting for?

- You take the fucking needle now!
- Fucking shit, oh fucking shit--

- Forty seconds!
- If that suit melts--

If you die, we all die!
Inject your heart...

- and then diffuse the bomb!
- Come on, just do it, Stan!

Shit, what if I miss my heart?
I can't see shit!

- Do it now!
- Look how big this is.

You want me to stick this into
my heart? Are you fucking nuts?

The sprinkler's coming.
It's coming.

Okay, here we go, man!

Sprinkler activated!

How much time left?

Twenty seconds.

We're not gonna make it.

- Fifteen.

Oh, come on!

Clear!

Get me the fuck out
of this gas chamber.

I almost stabbed myself
in the heart with this thing!

-# Please lock me away #

- Stan?
- Hey, darlin'.

-# And don't allow the day here inside #
-Hi, baby.

# Where I hide with my loneliness #

I had such
an interesting day today.

- # I don't care what they say #
- Yeah, I had kind of
an interesting day myself.

- Okay, you go first.

Oh, just some terrorists decide to send
a little care package-- box o' goodies--

- which had to be neutralized
before blowing up the office.

So, I took the rest of the day off.
Glass of wine, a little guitar--

-Just relaxing.
- Wow.

The world is being
Fed-Ex'd to hell on a handcart.

I believe that anyone who's thinking
about having a child in this world...

is coldly considering
an act of cruelty.

I know, I'm rambling, I'm complaining,
I'm sorry. What's your news, baby?

- I'm pregnant.
- I'm sorry?

I'm pregnant.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- Wow.
- Is that all you're gonna say, "wow"?

- You're pregnant?
- Three weeks.

How do you know?
I mean, h-how do you know?

Blue.

Just turned blue,
so I went to the doctor.

- Well, you didn't mean
what you just said, did you?
- When?

Just right now, when you were talking
about bringing a child into the world...

- and having it be an act of... cruelty.
- I meant it at the time.

Stanley, at the time? You said
it seven and a half seconds ago.

Well... gosh, kind of a lot's happened
since then. We're not even married.

I know. It's funny
you should mention that.

- It's funny?
- Do you love me?

- Of course I love you.
- Good.

- Will you marry me?
- Whoa, whoa, hey--
Marriage Police, pull over.

Come on, Stanley.
I'm proposing to you right now.

The Rock is the most famous and
was the most feared prison ever built.

Is it really true that there's
never been an escape?

Ah, that's true. From 1936
until '63 when the prison closed,

there were 14 attempts.

No one is believed to have made it
to shore-- alive, at least.

Uh, hey, hey, fellas. I'm sorry,
but tourists are not allowed back here.

I don't really give a shit.
You give a shit?

- No. Come here, fruity.
- Move!

- Hey, girls? Hi.
You all havin' a good time?
- Yeah.

Will you do something for me?
It's really-- It's really important.

I need you to tell your teacher
that you need to get back on the boat
and go home right now.

Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to Broadway!

This cell block housed...

the most awesome scum
in America.

Ladies and gentlemen, I, Ranger Bob,
cordially invite you...

to become inmates of Alcatraz--
temporarily, of course, heh!

On line!

Pretty tight quarters,
aren't they, huh?

Like being a caged animal.

Spend a couple of years in there--
What's the matter, fellas?

- Something wrong with the tour?
- Tour's over, Bob.

What kind of
fucked-up tour is this?

Gen. Hummel, Captains Frye
and Darrow reporting, sir.

Welcome to the Rock, gentlemen.
Land the choppers on the back side
and deploy as planned.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- Aye, aye, sir. Move out!

I'm not allowed
to carry a gun!

Oh, you're not allowed to carry a gun?
I got a goddamned gun!

If I'd had known this was gonna happen,
I'd have brought my motherfuckin' gun!

Help!

All right, this'll be our new home.
Tom, I want a command center right here.

- I want coms up.
- Roger that, sir.

Put the satellite over there.
I want to be up at 1600.

Let's move it.

- Systems up.

Possible penetration point in shower
room. We're setting anti-intrusion.

I brought a personal touch, sir.
It's an antimotion trembler device.

It's custom-made. Nobody knows
about it, and nobody expects it.

- What's it do?
- We head-fake 'em with the laser beam,

and then if they disturb Mr. Backup
here... we own 'em.

Ladies and gentlemen, you're
being detained against your will.

For that I apologize. It is not
our intention in anyway to harm you.

You will not be detained
one minute longer than is necessary
for us to complete our mission.

Attention on deck!

Stand easy, men.

Make no mistake about it, gentlemen.
We are now in harm's way.

For Major Baxter and I, this is the last
campaign in a career dating back...

to Tet '68.

Likewise for Captain Hendrix
and Gunnery Sergeant Crisp,

who cut their teeth
under my command in Desert Storm.

Capt. Frye, Capt. Darrow, this is
my first operational situation with you,

and I have to say thus far your conduct
reflects your reputations.

- Thank you, General.
- Thank you, sir.

We have achieved our position
through poise, precision and audacity.

To this we must now add resolve.

We'll be branded as traitors;
the gravest capitol crime.

Punishable by death.

Couple hundred years ago, a few guys
named Washington, Jefferson and Adams...

were branded as traitors
by the British.

And now they're called patriots.

In time, so shall we.

God willing, in less than 48 hours, we
will evacuate this island in gunships...

under cover of hostages
and V.X. gas warheads.

Your destination:
a nonextradition-treaty country.

You will each be paid a fee
of $1 million for services rendered.

But you can never again
set foot on your native soil.

- Can you live with that?
- Yes, sir!

The men of Marine Force Recon
are selected...

to carry out illegal operations
throughout the world.

When they don't come home...

their families are told fairy tales
about what happened to them...

and denied compensation.

Well, I have choked
on these lies my entire career.

Well, here and now
the lies stop!

God be with all of you.
Man your positions, men.

This is FBI Director Womack.

Director... be advised,

81... I say again,

81 civilians are under my control
as of this moment.

You are to take measures to assure this
remains a need-to-know classified fact.

- Who is this?
- Mr. Director, you have
a very serious problem.

A battery of V.X. gas rockets
is presently deployed to deliver...

a highly-lethal strike on the population
of the San Francisco Bay area.

I will call again at 0100 hours
to state my demands.

- I wanna know who I'm talking to.
- This is Brigadier General...

Francis X. Hummel, United States
Marine Corps from Alcatraz... out.

I'll cancel your reservations.

Get the Pentagon
and call the San Francisco office.

It seems Alcatraz
was just reopened.

Last night, Gen. Hummel using
brutal but nonlethal force...

under the guise of
a security exercise,

walked off with 15
V.X. poison-gas rockets.

He lost one of his own men
in the process.

That's Gen. Hummel in Vietnam.
I think he was a major at the time.

Three tours in Vietnam,
Panama, Grenada, Desert Storm;

Three Purple Hearts, two Silver Stars
and the Congressional Medal of--

Jesus. This man is a hero.

Well, I think "legend" might be
a better description, Mr. Sinclair.

Well, now we can add kidnapping
and extortion to his list of accolades.

Mr. Sinclair,
Gen. Hummel is a man of honor.

General, it's him.

- Frank, it's Al Kramer.
- Hi, Al. How ya doin'?

I don't know, Frank.
Why don't you tell me?

There are a lot of very,
very worried people here, Frank.

I'll come straight to the point.

83 Force Reconnaissance Marines
have died under my various commands.

47 in Northern Laos
and Southern China.

Southern China? We never admitted
we sent troops into China.

Who is this?
Identify yourself.

White House Chief of Staff
Hayden Sinclair, General.

How old are you,
Chief of Staff Sinclair?

- I'm 33.
- Well, Mr. Sinclair,

you've probably got no fucking idea
what I'm talking about.

By your ninth birthday,
I was runnin' black ops into China,

and my men were responsible
for over 200 enemy kills.

Now put some rigging tape
over Mr. Sinclair's mouth.

- He's wasting my time.
- Ah, you want to continue, Frank?

Remember Operation Desert Storm?

Those surgical hits made by our
smart bombs covered so well on CNN?

It was my men on the ground
that made those hits possible
by lasing the targets.

Twenty of them were left to rot outside
Baghdad after the conflict ended.

No benefits were paid to their families.
No medals conferred.

These men died for their country,
and they weren't even given
a goddamn military burial.

The situation is unacceptable.

You will transfer $100 million
from the Grand Cayman...

Red Sea Trading Company account
to an account I designate.

From these funds, reparations
of $1 million will be paid...

to each of
the 83 marines' families.

The rest of the funds
I will disperse at my discretion.

Do I make myself clear?

Except for the Red Sea Trading Company.
What is that?

- Identify yourself.
- This is FBI Director Womack, General.

It's a slush fund where the Pentagon
keeps proceeds from illegal arms sales.

Jesus, Frank!
This is classified information.

You alert the media,
I launch the gas.

You refuse payment,
I launch the gas.

You've got 40 hours--
'til noon, day after tomorrow--
to arrange transfer of the money.

I am aware of your counter measure.
You know and I know it doesn't
stand a chance.

- Hummel from Alcatraz, out.

All right.

We have to identify the hostages
and contact each of their families.

Tell 'em somethin'. Make up a story,
and we've got to keep this undercover.

If this comes out, the city of
San Francisco will be in chaos, anarchy.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.
What is the potential casualty rate...

for a single rocket armed
with V.X. poison gas, Gen. Peterson?

- Sixty or seventy.
- Well, that's not so bad.

Thousand.
Seventy thousand dead.

- Oh.
- One teaspoon of this hits the floor,

it's lethal up to... 100 feet.

One teaspoon of this shit
detonated in the atmosphere...

will kill every living organism
in an eight-block radius.

Get the point?

What did Hummel mean by
your "counter measure," General?

Standard poison is countered by napalm.
It consumes it upon detonation.

Now, the problem with V.X. poison gas
is that it's designed specifically...

to withstand napalm; that's
where thermite plasma comes in.

- Gen. Peterson?
- Thermite plasma incendiary systems...

can burn hot enough to consume V.X.,
but they're still in the test phase.

It's not operational.
Hummel knows this.

We are dealing with
one smart son of a bitch.

What's it gonna take
to equip a flight of F-18s...

with thermite plasma
within the next 36 hours?

- An act of God.
- Excuse me?

All right. We can try.

But I strongly urge you to consider the
use of this as a secondary initiative.

Then we have to go to our
primary initiative. Uh, Admiral?

Sir, I'd like to bring in our SEAL
ground commander, Cmdr. Anderson.

Mr. Womack, who is your best
chemical/biological man?

That's interesting.

- Oh, yeah.
- That's very compelling.

Ahh, you like my pigtails?

Oh, yeah.
Pigtails are naughty.

- Naughty, naughty--

You're just an amaretto cream
with peach sorbet persuasion.

- This isn't happening.

- No, Stan. Don't answer it.
- This isn't happening!

- No, just don't answer it. It's okay.
- I have to.

- It's the office, baby.
They know I'm home.
- Oh-h-h-h!

- How could they possibly know
that you're home?
- It's the FBI.

- Stanley! Tsk!
- Goodspeed.

Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I'll be--
I'll be down--

- Yeah, downstairs in ten minutes.
- No, you won't.

- I have to go to San Francisco.
- No, you don't.

Stanley. No, you do not have
to go to San Francisco.

Right now, you need to stay here
and talk to me about things.

- I've got to go, baby.
- I am a Catholic.

Do you realize that?
I am pregnant, and I am unmarried...

and this causes
a serious problem for me.

I cannot believe you.

N-N-No.

- I love you.

I will marry you.
I just didn't plan on this, that's all.

- Come to San Francisco.

- Really?
- Yeah. I'm sure it's just
a training exercise.

Check into the hotel,
order up some champagne--

- And we'll finish what we started?
- Exactly.

- Baby, you gonna marry me?
- You know it.

You're gonna marry me!
Oh, honey, come on.

-Just a really quick one.
- Oh! Oh! I gotta go!

A nighttime airdrop incursion
is out, due to the full moon.

A nighttime airdrop incursion
is out, due to the full moon.

Likewise,
a frontal seaside attack.

If we're compromised and shots
are fired, Hummel might launch.

Our only alternative is an attack
from within the prison.

We penetrate the island through tunnels
under the prison buildings undetected...

and emerge in its center; that way,
we can jump the marines from behind.

And if we're lucky, take their rocket
positions without a shot fired.

I don't understand. You-You've
studied the architectural plans?

They're useless. Alcatraz has been
ripped up and rebuilt for years.

- Under there is a maze of shit.
- There's no question, gentlemen.

We need firsthand intelligence
of the tunnel systems.

- So what about the former warden?
- Died in 1979.

All the guards
we contacted were useless.

Umm... there is someone who,
I think, can help us.

This is for the sake
of national security.

No, it's the sake of national security
that got us here in the first place
33 years ago.

I knew someday this would come back
to bite us. Forget it.

- He does not exist.
- He does exist!

We chose to forget him for 30 years.
We locked him up and threw away the key.

Oh, and a lot of
goddamn good it did us.

He broke out of two maximum security
prisons, and if he hits the streets--

He's not gonna "hit the streets," Jim!

Thirty years ago, he was
a highly-trained S.A.S. operative.

He is my age now, for Christ's sake.
I have to get up three times a night
to take a piss.

We can't risk letting him out.

He's a professional
escape artist.

Oh, here he is now.

- Ah. Neat, uh--
- Yeah.

- Neat, neat plane.
- Dr. Goodspeed. James Womack.

- Pleasure meeting you, sir. Thank you.
- Welcome.

You come very highly recommended.
B.A., Columbia;

M.A., PhD, Johns Hopkins.

Biochemistry/toxicology?

Well, I'm one of those fortunate people
who like my job, sir.

Got my first chemistry set when
I was seven. Blew my eyebrows off.

We never saw the cat again.
Been into it ever since.

- What do you know about V.X. gas?
- Liquid.

Failed pesticide discovered
by mistake in 1952.

Actually, it's like champagne that way.
The Franciscan monks thought...

they were making white wine, somehow the
bottle carbonated, voila, champagne--

- The gas, Dr. Goodspeed.
- It's very, very horrible, sir.

It's one of those things
we wish we could disinvent.

This isn't
a training exercise, is it?

No, Dr. Goodspeed,
it's not a training exercise.

- Ernest.
- Good morning, Director.

This is Ernest Paxton, agent in charge
of the West Coast operation.

- Dr. Goodspeed.
- Pleasure to meet you.

- How do you do, sir?
- It's been a fairly
interesting day so far.

The prison's here. Shall we?

Now, my boys, they haven't been
able to find a file on this guy.

- Who is he, anyway, sir?
- His name is John Mason,

a British national
incarcerated on Alcatraz in 1962;

escaped in '63.

- I was under the impression that
no one escaped Alcatraz, sir.
- Paxton, don't argue!

This man has no identity, not in
the United States or Great Britain.

He does not exist. Understand?
I want one thing:

how he escaped the rock-- specifically,
how he took through the island's bowels.

Papers are in order, sir.

We're prepared to offer him
a full pardon.

And Paxton, no strong-arming Mason.
I know him too well.

Well, if you know him,
why don't you question him?

No. He'll remember me. I don't want
his anger clouding the issue.

All right,
I'll take care of him.

Mr. Mason, I'm special agent
in charge Ernest Baxter.

In charge of what? Fucking me over
for another three decades?

I don't know anything about your
previous matters. I'm here because...

a special situation exists that we feel
you might be able to help us with.

Now, what might that be? I've been
in jail longer than Nelson Mandela,

so maybe you want me
to run for president.

- Not exactly.
- Ah, pity.

- I feel rather like Alcamenes.
- Who?

Alcamenes. He was imprisoned
by his king in ancient Greece.

Like Sir Walter Raleigh.
Same fate.

-James the First.
- Even someone as bright as you...

must be aware that, uh, there's
a certain pattern emerging here.

- Alexander Solzhenitsyn?
- Yeah, I heard of him.

Didn't he play hockey
for the fuckin' Redwings?

- That's the chap.
- Get this straight, Pops.

I don't like you any more
than you like me.

But I'm here to make you
a legitimate offer.

You wanna hear
what I have to say or not?

By all means,
dear Paxton, by all means.

We got a problem in a place
that I think you know.

There's a hostage situation
on Alcatraz.

- Hostage?
- Eighty-one tourists.

The Rock has become
a tourist attraction?

Why don't we cut the shit, huh?
You know the Rock. You broke out.

- Yes, successfully.
- Yeah.

So why don't you do yourself a favor
while you're helpin' us.

I mean, it'd be nice to get out of jail
while you're still vertical.

Hmm? While you got a little lead
left in your pencil?

While I'm considering
your offer,

I want a suite
at the Fairmont Hotel.

You know, I'm here
to cut you a deal.

I am not here to bend over
and take it up the ass from you.

Here. Here's a quarter.

Do yourself a favor.
Call your lawyer.

You're goin' back to jail.

- You're sending him back to jail?
- I'm not sending him anywhere.

I'm just givin' him
somethin' to think about.

I don't think we have time for him
to just sit around and think about it.

- Oh, really?
- No, Goodspeed's right.
You, go talk to him.

- Me? Sir, I'm not qualified for that.
- Yes.

- You're an FBI agent.
- What is your specialty again?

- Chemical weapons.
- Don't mention that!

- You want me to lie?
- Yeah, lie.

We got less than 24 hours.
Give it a shot.

Okay.

Hiya!

I'm an agent with the, uh,

eh, Federal-- FBI.

Uh-- Eh, well, my--
I'm Stanley Goodspeed.

- But of course you are.
- At least he got his name right.

- Of course I am.
- And you have an emergency.

- That's right.

- And you need my help.
- Exactly right.

- Coffee.

No, no, I'm fine,
thank you.

Offer me coffee.

Oh, yes. Well, that was, in fact,
going to be my next--

Could we get a cup of coffee
in here, please?

And offer...
to take these off.

Mr. Mason, really.

- All kidding aside--
- As a gesture of your good faith.

- Prisoner requests
to have his handcuffs taken off.
- No, no, no!

Look, why don't you go ahead and have
his handcuffs taken off, please?

Well, I guess that's
one way to go.

This is a pardon and release contract
from the Attorney General's office.

Now, it makes you a free man...
provided you cooperate.

So, if you'll just, ah, sign,
uh, eh, where it says--

- "Signature"?
- That's-- Yes. "Signature."

Well... timeo Danaos
et dona ferentes.

"I fear the Greeks
even when they bring gifts."

Oh, an educated man.

That rules out the possibility
of you being a field agent.

In point of fact,
I am a field agent, Mr. Mason.

- Really.
- Yes.

- In which field?
- Antiterrorism.

Then you're trained in weaponry,
explosives and mortal combat.

Well-trained.

- Then it's the Fairmont Hotel.

Okay.

I want a suite...
a shower, a shave...

and the feel of a suit.

May I also suggest a...
a haircut.

- Am I out of style?
- Unless you're a 20-year-old
guitarist from Seattle.

- It's a grunge thing.
- Grunge?

Yeah. Well, uh, uh--
Okay. Thank you very much.

All right. Call the Fairmont.
Close the floor if necessary,

but I want him sealed off
and he gets two hours max.

- Great job, Goodspeed.
- Why don't you throw in a trip
to Tahiti while you're at it?

I'll deliver this
to the Attorney General.

Ah, no, you'll give it to me, Reynolds.
And take Attorney Reynolds outside.

There's a car waiting for you.
Thank you.

That's a signed Federal document, sir.
Isn't that illegal?

You're not acquainted
with the full facts, Goodspeed.

With all due respect, sir, I'd like
clarification. I gave that man my word.

Damn it! You're on a need-to-know
basis, and you don't need to know!

It's uh, eh, kind of curious,
but, uh--

Sir Walter Raleigh, Alcamenes,
Solzhenitsyn, they, uh--

Well, they were all
wrongfully imprisoned.

Womack!

Now, why am I not surprised?
You piece of shit!

- Hey, peace! Peace!

Hey, we're not home. Leave a message.

- Hi, darling, it's, uh, it's me.

Uh, listen, don't come to San Francisco.
I repeat, do not come to San Francisco.

- Stanley, like hell I'm not comin'!
- Carla! Carla!

- Wait! Carla--

Who's Carla? And why don't you
want her to come to San Francisco?

You're on a need-to-know basis,
and you don't need to know.

- Watch it, he'll bite you!

Good. Mobile command
is fully operational.

We'll be there
in approximately two hours.

- I'm not armed, sir.
- Right.

- I am unarmed, sir.
- Well, where's your issue?

I left it in my--
uh, my sock drawer.

A gun?

For what?
You're a chemical freak.

No, I'm a chemical super-freak,
actually, but I still need a gun.

Give 'im a goddamn gun.

Have you fired one of those things
since the academy?

- # If you're going to San Francisco #

# Don't forget to wear flowers
in your hair #

# If you're going to San Francisco #

# You're sure to meet
some gentle people there #

-# Gentle people there #
- # And you come for-- #

- # If you're going to San Francisco #

- Fairmont Hotel.
- Heh, uh, room service?

Uh, this--
this is the penthouse.

Do you have any snacks
and drinks, huh?

Hello-o-o.

- You the barber?
- No. Stylist.

- Barber.
-Just clippers, no scissors.

No scissors? You've got to be
kidding me, no scissors.

I mean, did they tell Picasso
"no brush"?

With scissors,
this man could kill you.

I can't cut anyone's balls off
with a trimmer, now can I?

Why don't we do this outside?
Get some sun.

Oh! Who did this to you? This is
just not right. In fact, it's nasty.

- Well, it's a... grunge thing.
- Well, it's some kind of thing.

Do you think we have time for a sea kelp
protein pack and maybe some color?

- No.
- Okay.

- Not very nice, is he?

- No, he's not.

# 'Cause I'm leavin' #

- # On a jet plane #
- Hey, can't let it go to waste.

- # Don't know when I'll be back again #
- Don't you ever stop eatin'?

- Not when it's free.

- We're supposed to be on duty.
- Hey, don't worry. He's an old man.

The boss is watchin' 'im.
Come on, Try some of this lobster.

-Mm-hmm.
-My secretary here will settle the bill.

So, what do you have in store for me,
Womack, when this is over?

You'll get your life back, Mason.

But you could've given me
my life back years ago.

Why should I trust you now?

You've got my word.

Will you shake on it?

- Freeze, mister!

Oh, man!

Help!

Drop the gun...
or I drop your boss.

- You will not!
- Aaah! Get!

- He's gettin' very heavy.
- Then pull him up!

Aah! Uuh!

- Please don't.

- Ohh!

Help! Shit!

-# Hold me like you'll never--#
- Come on, have a scallop. Catch.

Ohh!

Ooh-ooh!

- You hoist him in!
- Yaah! Oh!

Help! Help! Help!

- Where's Mason?
- Hang on!

- Mason's gone!
- Gone?

- Clear!

Living room's clear!

- Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

All units, this is Caretender. We have
a signal six. He's in the hotel!

Okay, I don't wanna know nothin'.
I never saw you throw that gentleman
off the balcony.

All I care about is,
are you happy with your haircut?

- Aah! Easy! Aah!

Watch it, you fuckhead!
You're gonna pull my arm out!

Watch out! Aah!

- Uuh!
- Watch it!

- Hey, watch it!
- He's right over there!

Uuh! Ah!

Uuh!

Hey! Uuh! Ooh!

This is my Humvee. I don't want
any dings, dents or scratches.

Or I'll have your ass. Hey!
Hey! Stop! Hey!

- I was inside with Jack Powell!

- Hey, call the guard!
- Go!

FBI.

Whoo!

- Whoa! Whoa!

Suspect is in a black Humvee
heading west on California.

Speed approximately
70 miles per hour.

Get out of the way!

I want a net put on this
son of a bitch, you hear me?

This guy's hittin' every fuckin' thing
in sight tryin' to block us!

Aah!

I hope you're insured!

- Oh, well, why not?

You're goin' down!

- Hello?

Sie haben meine Hummer gestolen!

I'm only borrowing your Humvee!

Information?

San Francisco.

Uh, Jade Angelou.
That's A-N-G--

Welcome aboard, y'all.
How y'all doin' today?

Hang on!

- Holy shit!

Whoa-oa!

- Oh, no!

We're gonna crash!
Save yourselves!

Oh, my baby!

Oh, no!

Oh, no.

Oh! Oh, God.

Oh, God!

Hey, man.
You just fucked up your Ferrari.

- Oh, no!
Baby's goin' down in flames!
- It's not mine.

- Neither is this.

Damn! This sucks!
Where's that son of a bitch at?

I'm gonna hunt him down!
That motherfucker ain't safe nowhere!

- Chem Weapons, Isherwood.

Marvin, look up
Wolfburg Federal Penitentiary.

The inmate is Mason, John.

Hey, Stan, listen. I'm gettin'
out of this government shithole.

I'm goin' over to Orkin
to design Roach Motels. Cool, huh?

Look, I just stole
a kid's motorcycle.

I'm not really feeling too good.
Wolfburg, got it?

Yeah, I got it. All right,
Magrane, Masconi, Masters. No Mason.

Go to February '76. Who was transferred
to Wolfburg from San Quentin?

- This is weird.

They got medical records,
they got place of birth-- Glasgow--

Uh, but they don't have a name.

Uh, wait a minute, wait a minute!

They have next of kin, a Jade Angelou
of 32 Stenson Drive, San Francisco.

Jade?

No, I'm Stacy, Jade's friend.

Were you afraid to come alone?

Yeah.

It's okay.

I'll be over here
if you need me.

- Last photograph I had of you...
you were about ten.
- Yeah?

Well, I found a picture of you
among my mom's things... when she died.

Oh, yeah? Well, uh--

- Why don't we take a walk?
- I got him. Palace of Fine Arts.

Your mother, uh--
Ya know, well, sh-she was very special.

Yeah, she was.

But I don't think we should romanticize
what happened between you and her.

Meeting in a bar
after a Led Zeppelin concert.

Head out,
and I was the result.

Well, I'd like to think
it would've led somewhere, if only--

If only what?
Six federal marshals...

hadn't kicked down our door
and dragged you back to prison?

I'm sorry.

It's all right.

- So they let you out?
- Yeah.

That's good.

What did you do?

Jade, I don't have
a great deal of time here.

But I'll be coming back,
and, uh, maybe we can--

What? We can what?

You know... you're almost
the only evidence that I exist.

But I don't know you.

That's what I want to change, eh?

I've rehearsed this speech a thousand
times on the chance that we would meet.

Here we are... and I'm lost.

Well, I don't know how I'm
supposed to be feeling either.

Jade, I'm not an evil man.

If you can believe that,
then it's a start.

Okay.

Is this about you?

You broke out of prison again,
didn't you?

- Why did you come to me?
- FBI, ma'am.

Your father's working with us.
He's helping us resolve
a dangerous situation.

- He is?
- Yes, ma'am.

Well, gee whiz, John,
I guess we oughta get goin', huh?

Whatever you say, Stanley.

Thank you for that.
You could've handled it differently.

What do you say we cut
the chitchat, a-hole?

You almost got me killed twice,
and my jaw hurts like hell.

- Good.
- Cocksucker!

If I had my way, you would be shipped
back to Wolfburg in leg irons...

and caged like an animal for the rest
of your natural fuckin' life!

You wrecked half the city!

- Give me a hand with the system.
- Now, tell me about the tunnels.

If you know the system, it will take you
wherever you need to go.

There's an intake pipe here, below
low tide. Is that our best access?

- Yes, that's exactly where I came out.
- Then beneath the cistern...

there's a connection
to the abandoned septic system.

- How many feet is that?
- Ehh... 57 paces.

Where do we go from there?

Where do you go from there?

That's a good question.

- I have no idea.
- What?

I mean... I'll know
when we're all inside.

No. You're not goddamn goin'.
Show us on the blueprints.

I can't!
My blueprint was in my head.

I was underground
for three days in the dark,

just waiting
for the tides to be right.

But don't worry.
It'll all come back to me.

You're not going anywhere, Mason.

Wait a second.

This piece of work might be the only
chance those people over there have.

If he's not going, then why the hell
did we get him out of jail?

- He's smart.
- I got him out to get you
people in, not go with you.

If it's the only way of getting
the intelligence I need, then he goes.

He'll fuck with you.

You compromise my men's lives,
and I'll bury you out there.

Now, Womack... you're between
the Rock and a hard case.

Hmm.
How's your bowling arm?

Dr. Goodspeed, the goal
is to take out the launchers...

then neutralize
the V.X. chemical rounds.

Well, we know the poison's
being kept in the prison morgue...

from the satellite thermal imagining,
which is right here-- these dots.

Have you ever actually seen
one of these devices?

No, sir,
but I've studied them.

I should really begin briefing your guys
on defusing and detoxification.

Got a really neat layout here
of the chem round as well as the rocket.

- So let's get rolling.
- That won't be necessary.

Oh, it's very necessary, sir.

The power of this chemical
is way beyond anything you can imagine.

An ecological disaster, sir.

Plus, the devices themselves
are complicated.

That's why you're coming with us.

I am?

You're the expert.
What's your problem?

You mean I'm going--
going out there... under the water?

Well, earlier today you wanted a gun.
Now you're getting a gun and a wet suit.

Have you ever been
in a combat situation?

- Define "combat," sir.
- Shep?

An incursion underwater
to retake an impregnable fortress...

held by an elite team of U.S. Marines
in possession of 81 hostages...

and 15 guided rockets
armed with V.X. poison gas.

Oh. In that case, no, sir.
Excuse me.

- Here.
- Ah, thank you.

You don't look too good.

In fact, you look like shit.

My stomach's doing hula hoops
around my ass.

You all right? I mean,
you gonna make it through this thing?

I don't know.

I always expected something
like this was going to happen,

but nothing prepares you for it.

Now I'm--
I'm responsible...

for a whole city.

- Look, I know this isn't easy for you.

Remember, you were trained
for this kind of situation....

and believe me,
it'll come back to you.

Besides, you got the best SEAL team
in the country backin' you up.

Okay.
You're right.

I'll be on the wire.
I'll help talk you through it.

There's something else.
It's terrible.

N-No, it's wonderful...
except it isn't.

My girlfriend's pregnant...

and she's...
just flown in to see me.

You keep your mind on what you're
going to be doing out there tonight,

and I'll send someone to pick up
your girlfriend and bring her
here to the command center.

- Hummel!
- Hello, Frank. Lou Linstrom.

I'm at the White House
with General Kramer.

Uh, Frank, uh, we're havin' a few
problems with the account transfer.

Don't tell me problems,
tell me solutions.

We've spoken to the President,
and I know that you're aware
of his stance on terrorism.

- So what we'd like to do--
- This isn't about terrorism.
This is about justice.

It's about reminding people who found it
politically convenient to forget.

- This is goin' nowhere, Frank.
- Well, let me tell you what is:

15 V.X. gas rockets into
the heart of San Francisco.

You've got 17 hours
to deliver the money.

Or be prepared to reap
the whirlwind, gentlemen.

What's the word from Mojave?

General Peterson can give us no definite
assurance on the thermite plasma.

That is the word.

Green light to SEAL incursion.

Fall in!

All right. Listen up.
Mr. Mason will run point for us.

Lieutenant Shepard will be
attached to his hip.

You breathe, he breathes with you.
You piss, he helps. Understood?

Dr. Goodspeed is our specialist.
When he neutralizes the threat,

we launch green flares
and we wait for the cavalry.

Make no mistake, gentlemen,
we're in the fight of our lives,

against maybe the greatest
battalion commander...

in the Vietnam War,
I shit you not.

Any questions?

Let's load up!

After you, ace.

Pass out and activate
the Minicams.

Everything set here?

Minicams operational?

Roger that, sir.
We are on line.

Shep, what's the status on the special
operational gear for Mr. Mason?

Let's see, we have, uh,

one quart of kerosene
and a squeeze bottle,

three washers
and waterproof matches.

Use the green flares to signal
when the threat has been neutralized.

Now, this is atropine.
If you come in contact with the gas,

you have 20 seconds
to inject it into your heart.

Don't fuck with me on this.
It may save your life.

I have three incoming bogeys
bearing 2-7-5. Range: 6,000 meters.

FBI Command Center?

Oh, I would just love for you
to tell me what is goin' on.

- Nope.
- Stanley Goodspeed is my boyfriend.

- Actually, he's my fiance.
Where is he?
- Classified, lady.

Okay, well you just sit here
and act like a Bureau bonehead, then.

Hey, where are you--
Goddamn it.

Decoy choppers commencing
run to Alcatraz.

I just lost one, sir.
I just lost one.

We only got two flying in.
I just lost one.

Shit.

In my day, we did it all
with a snorkel and a pair of flippers.

- Your day?
- Yes, didn't you read my resume?

I don't-- I don't know
anything about you.

- I know something about you, Godspell.
- Goodspeed.

Goodspeed,
Godspeed, Godspell,

you never went
to any anti-terrorist school.

So just make sure you don't
get us all fucking killed.

- We're going dark.
- Night vision!

Raider One has dropped
below radar coverage,

heading around Treasure Island.

Sir, we've got two bogeys
bearing due east and closing.

Decoys?

- Prepare to deploy!
- Good luck, Commander.

Sir, Raider One
is at the drop zone.

Stanley's not a very good swimmer.
I mean, he can't even snorkel.

- Everyone, good to go?
- Good to go!

- Good to go!
- Good to go!

So the S.D.U.s have been deployed,
and the Eagles are in the water.

Major, I want the perimeter
patrolled to the west end of the island.

Yes, sir.
Hendrix, you lead the patrol.

- Aye, sir.
- Let's move! Move out, move out!

The Eagles are on the Rock.
They've entered the cistern room.

Thank you very fucking much, Mr. Mason.
You sent us into a room with no exit.

Any ideas, Dillinger?

Figure it out soon.
We're sitting ducks.

- Real tight on time.
- You stand by the door.
Until I open it.

I'd like to know how you plan
on accomplishing that.

Through here.

You're shitting me.

I memorized the timing.
I just hope it hasn't been changed.

You catch one of those
flame bursts, you're a corpse.

- Thank you.
- Commander, you said never
leave his side, but, uh--

- Stand fast, Lieutenant.
- Have a nice day.

- Where'd you dig up this guy?
- That's classified.

Clear here, sir.
No motion sensors tripped.

- Nothing.
- Well, tell them to stay out there.

Sweep forward!

Looks like he fucked us,
Commander.

I knew it.
That son of a bitch jumped ship.

Welcome to the Rock.

- Mason.
- That's a no-no. That's the subway.

- That'll drop you into the tunnels.
- Do it!

Sir, the Eagles
have breached the tunnel system.

You enjoying this?

Well, it's certainly
more enjoyable than my average day:

reading philosophy,
avoiding gang rape in the washroom.

Though it's less of a problem these
days. Maybe I'm losing my sex appeal.

We've got seismic activity
in one of the storm grates. North side.

Continue patrolling the area.

Sweep forward.

Commander, halt.
We've got movement.

They're hearing sounds above, sir.

Stand fast.
Down, down, down.

West storm drain's clear.

Ninety-seven paces
to the shower room.

The Eagles are now at the access tunnel.
They're right under the shower room.

Fiber optics.

- Something's not right.
- I've got a bad feeling about this.

Quiet.

Motion sensors.

- Beams cutting across manhole covers.
- Deal with it.

Commander, the beam is hitting
some sort of reflective device.

Possibly a prism.

I want to use a mirror
to cut the beam,

send the beam
back to its source...

and then I'm
going to move the prism.

We've got motion on a trembler
in the shower room, sir.

We've got visitors.
Let's move.

Got it. Good to go.

Stand fast.
We'll secure the area.

They're entering
to the shower room, sir.

They're securing the area.

Just sit tight.

Drop your weapons!
Drop 'em!

- Get back!
- Hold your fire.

Drop your weapons.
Hold your fire!

It's a fucking trap.

This is Gen. Hummel.
Drop your weapons.

Drop 'em!

Anderson here, Gen. Hummel.
Commander. Team leader.

Cmdr. Anderson, if you have any concern
for the lives of your men...

you will order them to safety their
weapons and place them on the deck.

This is not happening.

Sir, we know why you're out here.
God knows I agree with you.

But like you, I swore to defend
this country against all enemies...

foreign, sir, and domestic.

General, we've spilled
the same blood in the same mud.

You know goddamn well
I can't give that order.

We're dead.

Your unit is covered from
an elevated position, Commander.

I'm not gonna ask again.
Don't do anything stupid.

No one has to die here.

Men following the general, you're
under oath as United States Marines!

Have you forgotten that?

We all have shipmates
we remember.

Some of them were shit on
and pissed on by the Pentagon.

But that doesn't give you
the right to mutiny!

You call it what you want!
You're down there; we're up here.

You walked into the wrong
goddamn room!

- Stand fast!
- Commander, one last time.

You tell your men
to safety their weapons.

- I cannot give that order!
- I am not gonna repeat that order!

- I will not give that order!
- What the hell is wrong with you, man?

- Stand fast!
- Oh, my God!

- Let's waste these fuckers.
- One last time.

-Order your men to safety their weapons.

Cease fire!

Don't go.

Cease fire!

Cease fire!

Shit. Goddamn it.
Let go of me. Let go of me!

Don't, don't go.

Fuck.

It's over.

Oh, God!

- We got some movement.

- Who? Who is it?
- Two of 'em. Eagles 11 and 12.

- It's Goodspeed and Mason.
- I knew it.

I've gotta get a team together.
We've gotta move with the second option.

What, and invite another
massacre? No way.

We've got a 60-year-old convict and
a lab rat. I'm telling you, it's over.

Not for Mason, it isn't.

Goodspeed,
I'm not gonna kill you.

- Where are you going?
- Off this bloody island.

What? Wh-- What for?

Goodspeed, do you read me?

It's for you.

- Sir?
- What's the status?

The status is, they're dead.
They're dead!

It's just me and Mason.
Now he says he's leaving.

That is unacceptable,
do you hear me? Unacceptable!

Well, there's a problem, sir.
He's got a gun.

What do you have,
a fuckin' water pistol?

- No, sir.
- Go after him and stop him.

I didn't want this.

-Jesus, I didn't want this.
- We knew this might happen.

- Well, maybe now they'll pay up.
- Maybe now they won't, Captain.

Then maybe we need to execute
a few hostages.

- Got a live one!
- Put a bullet in him.

You heard him, end it.

Holster that sidearm, Captain!

Sir?

You made a terrible mistake. And more
of our brothers have died in vain.

Damn you for forcing me
into this position.

I need to talk to you.
Right now, alone.

Now, you told me
I'm on a need-to-know basis,

and I'm tellin' you right now
I need to know...

who the fuck John Mason is right now.

All right, you wanna know?
1962, J. Edgar Hoover...

is head of the FBI,
some say the country.

It's no secret he kept microfilm files
on prominent Americans and Europeans:

de Gaulle, British members
of Parliament, even the Prime Minister.

I mean, this guy had dirt
on everybody in the world.

Yeah, I know all the cloak-and-dagger
stories. Where does Mason fit in?

Mason was the British operative
who stole the files.

But our Bureau agents caught him
at the Canadian border.

Of course, the British claimed
they'd never heard of him.

And we held him without trial
until he gave up the microfilm.

But he never did.

I'm surprised Hoover didn't
use his daughter as leverage.

Hoover was dead in '72.
She wasn't born yet.

Today, well,
it's a different bureau.

So you held this guy without trial
his whole life. No wonder he's pissed.

This man knows our most intimate secrets
from the last half-century:

the alien landing at Roswell, the truth
about the J.F.K. assassination.

And Mason's angry, he's lethal.
He's a trained killer.

And he is the only hope
that we have got.

Mason! Mason!

There are 81 hostages
still up there.

Yeah. Like me.

You wanna play tough?
You wanna play tough with me?

Okay, FBI!
Freeze, sucker!

- I'll fire.
- No, you won't.

- Throw down.
- You're not the sort.

Let's find out.

I could; you, no.

Besides, your safety's on.

Goodspeed, have you
resolved the situation?

Not yet.

- He's got all the guns now, sir.
- Shit!

You're right, I don't use guns,
and I don't kick down doors.

- This is what I do.
- I haven't got my glasses.

What it says is,
"Chemical Weapons Specialist."

That's right.

I got a lunatic up there,
man, with 15 missiles...

armed with some
really funky stuff.

That lying Womack.
You could've told my daughter.

It was classified.
Look, I'm in the same situation.

They've got my girlfriend
in the city with a baby on the way.

Look, I can defuse the rockets.
I really can.

But I'm gonna need your help,
and I'm gonna need it right now.

Sir, this man's weapons
and tac radio are missing!

Shit, we got a rodent problem.
Flush the pipes.

There's probably a maze of
tunnels on this goddamn island.

- Check every access you can find.
- Sir!

Even if you escape
from the island...

you can't escape the rockets.

So, where are you gonna go?

Go where?
What're you gonna do?

Show me where
the morgue is, Mason.

I'm out of here.

What about your daughter? Mason?

Rodents located.

The way I see it, you don't
really have any choice, do you?

I don't think you do.

Move!

Ooooh!

- They're on to us.
- Burn 'em out.

This mother's gonna blow big.

I don't understand. How could we lose
radio contact all of a sudden?

We've lost coms.
Still got 'em on locators.

- So what's it gonna be?
- What?

- How do you like your choices?
- I don't.

That's what I thought.

Come on.

This is the oldest part of Alcatraz.

Did you know it was originally
a Civil War fort?

Oh, really? Yeah, wow.
You know, I like history, too,

and maybe when this is over, you and I
can stop by the souvenir shop together,

but right now, I just-- I just--
I wanna find some rockets.

Don't tempt me.

We are going to the morgue.

- You sure you're ready for this?
- I'll do my best.

Your best?

Losers always whine about their best.

Winners go home
and fuck the prom queen.

Carla was the prom queen.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Locators have them
approaching the morgue, sir.

Come on, come on,
you can do it, Doc.

Shit! Aaaaaah!

You must never hesitate.

I think you're shooting
too close to the rocket.

Him, but not the rocket.

Any other news, professor?

The rocket!
Not the rocket!

Aaah! Uhhh!

I got a little something for ya.

Yaaaah!

Uh, yeah, okay, that's just about
the most awful thing I've ever seen.

Mason... the second you don't
respect this, it kills you.

Put it over there.

You've been around a lot of corpses.
Is that normal?

- What, the feet thing?
- Yeah, the feet thing.

- Yeah, that happens.
- Can you do something about it?

Like what?
Kill him again?

Listen, I'm just a biochemist.

Most of the time, I work in a glass jar
and lead a very uneventful life.

I drive a Volvo, a beige one.
But what I'm dealing with here...

is one of the most deadly substances
the earth has ever known.

So what do you say
you cut me some friggin' slack?

A really elegant
string-of-pearls configuration.

Unfortunately,
incredibly unstable.

What exactly
does this stuff do?

If the rocket renders it aerosol, it can
take out the entire city of people.

Really? What happens
if you drop one?

Happily, it'll just
wipe out you and me.

- How?
- It's a cholinesterase inhibitor.

It stops the brain from sending messages
down the spinal cord within 30 seconds.

Any epidermal exposure
or inhalation, and you'll know.

A twinge at the small of your back as
the poison seizes your nervous system.

Do not move that!

Your muscles freeze,
you can't breathe...

you spasm so hard you break
your own back, spit your guts out.

- But that's after your skin melts off.
- My God.

Well, I think we'd like God
on our side at the moment, don't you?

So what I'm doing now is removing
the guidance system chips...

so the rocket'll splash
down after 500 feet.

All right, let me have that.
You can let go of it.

All right, just back away.
Just back away!

Sir, morgue team
has not checked in.

Blackbird One,
it's Blackbird, over.

Blackbird One, this is Blackbird.
Come in, goddamn it!

Somebody's still there.
Let's move!

Rats alive! Close on the morgue!
Close on the morgue!

Go, go, go, go,
go, go, go, go!

Frye, Darrow, hustle up.
We got more company!

Hold it! Converge
on the morgue! Move out!

Goodspeed, come on.
Come over here.

Yeah, I love pressure,
I eat it for breakfast.

Come on. Time's up.

There's three rockets somewhere else.
We have to find them!

Come on!

Come on!

Clear!

- I'm too old for this!
- Where's it go?

I've no idea.

Sir, all the guidance
chips are gone.

Captain, I guess you didn't quite
take care of the rat problem.

No, sir.

Well, there are two dead men who
strongly suggest you go finish the job.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir!

-You really don't know where this goes?
-No, I don't know where it goes.

Well, we're picking up speed.
Do you know how to slow it down?

No, I don't.

Aaaaaaah!

Uhhh!

God!

Mason! You all right?

Yes, perfectly okay,
you fucking idiot.

They're coming.

- Who?
- The marines!

Where?

- What the fuck's goin' on?
- Let's cut him off.

Mason!

Mason!

You motherfucker, die, die, die!

I'm rather glad
you didn't hesitate too long.

How do you do it?

Oh, I was trained by the best.
British Intelligence.

Come on.

But in retrospect, I'd rather
have been a poet or a farmer.

Okay.

Okay, the president
arrives in three hours.

His directive is to string Hummel along
until the air strike is operational.

What's the word
from Mojave, General?

Same as last time, Lou.
They're going as fast as they can.

Do it over here.
On your knees.

Navy SEALS, listen up.
You've got something that belongs to me.

Twelve guidance chips,
to be precise.

Let me remind you that there are lives
at stake, civilian lives.

Speak up.

- Speak up!
- Oh! I, uh--

- Uh--
- Tell them your name.

My name is Larry Henderson.

Oh, man.

And I'm a father
of three, and, uh,

they've got a gun to my head.

You've got exactly three minutes
to return the guidance chips,

or Mr. Henderson
won't have a head.

Oh, no. Hey, what--?

Now, three to go.
You find them and defuse them.

- Okay? All right.
- All right.

I'll try and delay Hummel
and give you more time.

Hey, what about
Mr. Henderson's head?

Okay. What do you mean?

Okay.

- General.
- Who the hell are you?

I'm all that's left
of the enemy.

Bingo.

Stand easy.

Thought I'd been
in the service a long time.

- Name and rank, sailor.
- It's army, actually.

Answer the question.
And address him as "General, sir. "

Captain John Patrick Mason,
General, sir....

of Her Majesty's S.A.S.

Retired, of course.

You're a long way
from home, Captain.

How the hell are you
involved in this?

I have a unique knowledge
of this prison facility.

I was, uh...
formerly a guest here.

Hi, sweetie.

Hey, come back here,
little boy.

Did they bother to tell you
who I am, why I'm doing this,

or are they just using you
like they do everybody else?

All I know is you were big in Vietnam.
I saw the highlights on television.

You wouldn't have any idea
what it means to lead the finest
men on God's earth into battle,

and then see their memory betrayed
by their own fuckin' government!

I don't quite see how you
cherish the memory of the dead
by killing another million.

And, uh...
this is not combat.

It's an act of lunacy,
General, sir.

Personally, I think
you're a fuckin' idiot.

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed
from time to time...

"with the blood of patriots
and tyrants. " Thomas Jefferson.

"Patriotism is the virtue of
the vicious," according to Oscar Wilde.

Thank you for making my point.

Where are the guidance chips?
Where are the guidance chips!

I destroyed them.

That was a bad move, soldier.

Does that mean
you'll execute us both?

You're lucky that old man
Hummel wants you alive.

'Cause I'd take pleasure
in guttin' you, boy.

I'd take pleasure
in guttin' you... boy.

I'll take pleasure
in guttin' you... boy.

What is wrong with these
people, huh, Mason?

Don't you think there's a lot of, uh,
anger floatin' around this island?

Kind of a pubescent volatility?
Don't you think?

A lot of angst, lot of "I'm 16;
I'm angry at my father" syndrome?

I mean, grow up!
We're stuck on an island...

with a bunch of violence-for-pleasure
seeking psychopathic marines.

Shame on them!

Anyway, I only got one chem rod,
and there's two left.

Mason?

Yes, I'm here.

I was just thinking
how wonderful it was...

when the inmates weren't
allowed to talk in here.

Not allowed to talk.

How did you do it?

Nurtured the hope that there was hope...

that one day I'd breathe free air.

Perhaps meet my daughter.

Modest hopes,
but they kept a man alive.

What did they put you away for, John?

Oh, that's a long story.

Well, I'm not going anywhere.

When was the last communication
from our men on Alcatraz?

Seven hours.

- Thermite plasma is operational.
- Get me the president.

Be seated. Gentlemen,
consider yourselves on ground alert.

If we receive launch authority,
your mission is...

the complete thermal destruction
of Alcatraz Island.

The entire island is to be blanketed,
not one square inch missed.

81 American civilians and a number
of U.S. Marines will lose their lives.

Why didn't you just tell them where the
microfilm was and create a solution?

The moment they had the
microfilm, they'd suicide me.

- Some solution.
- You ended up here.

Which brings me
to another question.

You broke out-- let me see
if I can get this straight--

you went down the incinerator
chute, on the mine car,

through the tunnels
to the powerplant,

under the steam engine--
that was really cool, by the way--

and into the cistern
through the intake pipe,

but how, in the name of Zeus's butthole,

did you get out of your cell?

I only ask because
in our current situation,

well, it could prove to be
useful information, maybe!

Trade secrets, my son.

Wow.

General, two operational
rockets left.

One at the lower lighthouse
and one at the roof.

Both of the birds are ready to fly, sir.
General, can you hear me?

- I heard you, Captain.
-Just makin' sure.

Should we... prepare
for launch, General?

- I'll handle the strategy, Captain.
- Yes, sir.

The hour is approaching, sir. Just
letting the General know of the time.

I'm very aware
of the time, Captain.

Aye, aye, sir.
Lettin' you know.

Me and my boys are cocked,
locked and ready to rock.

Mason, where are you going?

Thirty years ago I vowed
I wouldn't die in this toilet.

You're not leaving! There's a madman
in there with his hand on a button!

Shhh. Some sniper's
gonna get his ass.

Stop moving, Mason.

Mason, stop moving.

Hummel won't do it.
He's a soldier, not a murderer.

I read it in his eyes.

Read his eyes? Oh, well,
then everything's just fine!

- I can't afford to take that chance.
- Why don't you talk louder?

Three minutes to go, sir.

- They're not gonna call for it.
- Oh, they'll call.

They'll call if we fire
one of our rockets up their ass.

Sir.

- Hummel.
- Hi, Frank, it's Al Kramer here.

- How's it going out there?
- How do you think it's going?

- We're gonna need another hour, Frank.
- You've got three minutes.

- We have to get authorization
from the president.
- You've got three minutes.

Frank, please
don't do anything stupid.

They want another hour.

That's bullshit. That's bullshit,
General. They're lying.

They're calling our bluff, sir.
They're playing you for a fool.

Sir, order the launch, General.

Come on, General,
let's be all we can be.

The mission's not complete!

Well, mine is.

When this is over,
you'll go back home,

driving Carla and your baby
insane in your beige Volvo.

And I'll be dead, or back in prison
which is the same thing.

You're not leaving.

All right...
I'll do it myself.

I got three weeks'
weapons training.

I'll kick the--
And a platoon full of marines.

No problem.

- Major, patch me into roof battery.
- Aye, sir.

Fire open control circuit
coordinates to the roof, sir.

Let's go!

- Laser powered up.
- Oh, no.

- Laser powered up.
- Oh, no.

I said, on your knees!

My name's Stanley Goodspeed.

I'm a chemical weapons
specialist for the FBI.

- Uh, glass or plastic?
- What?

- Glass or plastic!
- Shut the fuck up!

Because if the winds change and if you
launch those rockets, we're gonna die.

Shut up!

And you're gonna end up
in a glass jar or a plastic bag.

So do the math, hand over the gun
and let's go find some rockets!

I said shut the fuck--

You made the right choice.

I decided I didn't want your child
growing up without a father.

Hey, the last time I swam
this channel, I was your age.

So I'm fucked either way.
So come on.

The weapon is hot.
I am standing by for the launch command.

Man, killing Navy SEALs is one thing--
Is this for real?

Hey, it's business.

Access code entered.
Weapon available for release.

Launch coordinates:

six, seven, five, four, five, niner.

The weapon is hot.

I'm standing by
for launch command.

It's affirmative.

Standing by for command.

I'm waiting for
a launch command, General.

- Fire.
- Fire!

Missile loose!
Missile loose!

Origin: Alcatraz, 67253725.

- What's the heading?
- Heading 185 degrees south southeast.

- Speed?
- 300 knots. Headed right at Oakland.

The football game.

Oh, my God.

Missile radically
changing direction.

New direction: 275 degrees west.
It's headed out to sea, sir.

Oh, Christ!

Missile losing altitude.
Falling.

Falling, 300 feet, 200, 100.

Bogey detonated underwater.

What the fuck?

- It missed.
- Well, that's great.

Extremely great,
but there's still one left.

What happened to the rocket?
What the fuck happened?

What the fuck is going on
to the coordinates? Sir! Major!

Captain, step outside.

- Talk to me, sir.
- Captain, step outside!

Get me the Pentagon.

What the hell was that, Frank?

- I said, what the hell--
- I heard what you said!

- I'd appreciate a little more respect.
- Cut the crap, General.

- What the hell are you doing?
- I'm not ready to kill these people.

- Call the Pentagon. Ask for more time.
- No.

Do it, Frank!
We're coming loose.

You're coming loose.
The rest of us are in complete control.

- We're gonna ask for a new deadline.
- Put the phone down.

- The men are falling apart!
- The men are marines!

Are they?
I wanna talk to Gen. Kramer.

- You've been asked by an old friend.
- Put him on the phone right now.

- You've been ordered.
- This is Major Baxter!

Now you're being given your last chance
by a man with a gun.

Put the phone down.

- I thought you weren't ready to kill.
- I'm warming up.

At ease.

They need a decision,
Mr. President.

These past few hours...

have been the longest,
darkest of my life.

How does one weigh human life?

One million civilians
against 81 hostages.

And in the middle, Frank Hummel.

That we have ignored, abandoned...

or marginalized a great
soldier like Frank Hummel,

and American boys have paid
for that neglect...

with blood is equally real...

and equally tragic.

We are at war with terror,

and fighting war means casualties.

This is the worst call
I've ever had to make.

Air strike approved.

Red Thunder to Tower.
Request clearance.

The amount of firepower
they're gonna drop in there--

-This is strike leader. Prepared to go.
-It'll be over in a few seconds.

Flight time to drop point: 17 minutes.

Excuse me, General, sir,
with all due respect to you.

- What the fuck is going on?
- You changed the coordinates,
didn't you, General?

- That's affirmative, Captain.
- So now they think we're gutless?

The Feds?
They think we won't actually do it.

They're gonna come at us with
everything they got. Air and sea.

They're gonna bomb our ass
back to the Stone Age.

They don't know
we missed on purpose.

Great. We're not gutless.
We're incompetent. That right?

I don't think I like your tone, Captain.
We planned for this contingency.

Load the V.X. into the choppers,
take four hostages and evacuate.

The consequences of our actions
I'll face alone.

Excuse me, General, but
what about the fucking money?

There is no fucking money.
Mission's over.

Bullshit it's over.

You're talking to a General, soldier!
Maintain discipline!

I'm not a soldier, Major. The day
we took hostages, we became mercenaries.

And mercenaries get paid.
I want my fucking money!

This mission was based
on the threat of force.

I'm not about to kill
80,000 innocent people.

Do you think I'm
out of my fucking mind?

We bluffed. They called it.
The mission's over.

Who ever said anything
about bluffing, General?

Stand down, Captain.

Stand down, Captain!

Major, I'm ordering you to take
these men to the choppers and evacuate.

That's a simple order, Major!

It's not so simple, Frank.

Sgt. Crisp, secure the general.

I'm relieving you
of your command, sir.

Sergeant!

- I'll have that sidearm, sir.
- You mean this sidearm?

Maj. Baxter, you're either with us
or against us.

It has been the greatest honor
of my life to serve with you, General.

But like he said... it's over.

Let's get him.

Mason!

My God, what have I done?

Where's the last rocket?
Where's the last rocket!

- Where's the last rocket?
- Lower lighthouse.

- Lower lighthouse!
- Go.

Darrow, go to the lighthouse!
I'll take care of this fucker!

One, two, three!

Eat that!

Did it.

Come here. Come here,
you little chickensh--

You shoot me, I drop this.
We're both dead.

Come on. Come on.
Don't be scared. I won't hurt you.

- Come on.
- You know how this shit works?

You know how this shit works?

Come on.

I don't need a gun.
I'll put it down.

Come on. Let's play.
Come on. Come on.

Listen, I think we got started off
on the wrong foot. Stan Goodspeed, FBI.

Uh, let's talk music. Do you like
the Elton John song, "Rocket Man"?

- I don't like soft-ass shit.
- Oh, you-- Oh, oh.

Well, I only bring it up because,
uh, it's you. You're the Rocket Man.

How do you like
how that shit works?

Second rocket's away!

It splashed into the bay, sir.
No detonation.

Shit.

Darrow!

Open up!

Come on.

Open up!

Hey, you mothe-e-e-er!

Oh, I'm gonna
get you now, baby.

Okay.

Got ya. I got you, baby.

Come on.

Fucker!

Red Thunder strike leader.
Time on target: seven minutes.

English prick.
I tell you my old man was Irish?

Maintain air speed
4-5-0 knots.

- Aw, fuck!

It's me and you, pal!

I want that fucking chip!

I love pressure.

I know you're in here,
and I know you can hear me.

Now pay the piper
and come out like a man.

Increase speed to 5-0-0 knots.

You motherfucker!

I'm gonna choke my million bucks
out of you! You're gonna die!

- Eat that, you fucker!

All right, team inbound.
Time on target: 60 seconds.

On course heading 1-4-2 degrees.

When he neutralizes the threat,

we launch green flares
and we wait for the cavalry.

- Let's tighten up that formation.
- May God have mercy on your souls.

Please don't let this happen.
There has to be something you can do.

Let's drop to the deck,
100 feet below radar.

Target acquired.
Rolling in.

This is Red Thunder.
Master arm.

Master armed.

Time on target: 12 seconds.

- T.O.T.: ten seconds.
- Please.

Stay tight, gentlemen.

I got green smoke.
I got green smoke!

This is CQ-1, CQ-1. Green smoke!
We have green smoke, over!

- Gimme that, gimme that. Abort.
- Abort!

- Flight leader, abort, abort!
-Jesus Christ!

- I already dropped 'em.

Oh, goddamn it!

Oh, my God.

Get out of my way.
Let me through, please. Let me through.

The cells did not get hit.
The bombs hit on the back of the island.

- I'm fed up saving your ass.

I'm amazed you ever
got past puberty.

I suppose all this will make
a great bedtime story to tell your kid.

You're insane, Mason.
The kid'll have nightmares.

I'll spend all my money
on shrinks.

Goodspeed, come in. Goodspeed,
Goodspeed, do you read me? Come in.

Scanning all radio frequencies.

Goodspeed, do you read me?
Come in.

Goodspeed, do you read me? Come in.

Goodspeed?
Do you read me? Come in.

This is Goodspeed.

Are the hostages alive?

Every one of 'em.

Goodspeed, it's Womack.
What about Mason?

He's dead, sir.

- How? When?
-Just come and get me.

Womack tore up your pardon, John.

But of course. I knew he would.

The S.D.U.s and the scuba gear
should still be where we came ashore.

If you can get
to the Pan Pacific Hotel,

there's clothes in my closet
and $200 in the bible.

Room 26.

Well, it's been a long time
since I've said thank you to anybody.

But thank you.

Well, Stanley, uh, this is when we go
our separate ways, huh?

Uh-- I'm sure you know the etymology
of your name, "Goodspeed. "

Yeah, "Godspeed. " To wish someone
a prosperous journey. Why?

Well, if you fancy a journey,

I recommend Fort Walton, Kansas.

I was thinking of Maui.

No.

Forget Maui.

"St. Michael's Church,
Fort Walton, Kansas.

"Front pew, right leg.

Hollow."

Is this what I think it is?

Mason?

- Congratulations,
Dr. Goodspeed. You did it.
- Thank you, sir.

You know, for a while there,
I didn't think you were gonna make it.

Well done, son.
So, where's Mason?

Vaporized.
Blown out to sea.

Blown out to sea, huh?

Yeah.

Poor bastard.

Goodspeed, where's Mason?
Where's his body?

I wanna see
that son of a bitch.

Vaporized, sir.
Excuse me, gentlemen.

What? Vaporized?
A body can vaporize?

Oh, yeah.
Absolutely, sir.