Escape from New York

The once-great city of New York

becomes the one maximum-security prison

for the entire country.

A 50-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline,

across the Harlem River and down along the Brooklyn shoreline.

It completely surrounds Manhattan Island.

All bridges and waterways are mined.

The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island.

There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made.

The rules are simple.

Once you go in, you don't come out.

This is Gotham 4, north bay, station 17.

I have an escape in progress, object in mid-bay moving toward the wall.

You have 10 seconds.

Turn around. Start back to the island.

Gotham 4, confirm the kill.

Circle to base, over.

Security, this is Rehme, we have confirmation from Gotham 4.

We have a kill at mid-harbor south of the Battery. Two in the water dead.

Two confirmed.

Very well.

Air traffic, this is Rehme.

Attention, you are now entering the debarkation area.

No talking, no smoking. Follow the orange line to the processing area.

The next scheduled departure to the prison is in two hours.

You now have the option to terminate

and be cremated on the premises.

If you elect this option, notify the duty sergeant in your processing area.

Hold it.

We got a small jet in trouble over restricted airspace.

Where is it?

Seven miles out and closing.

Been on the horn for the past 20 minutes.

We haven't been able to reach him.

There was a transmission 10 minutes ago.

He identified as David 14, then all of a sudden he was cut off.

David 14, acknowledge.

David 14, I'm calling air rescue.

Squawk 7700, contact on 121 .5.

There's still no reply.

Bayonne, I have a mayday in restricted space.

New York, I have him.

Who is he?

I don't know.

You have the code?

There's no David 14 on the computer.

Unlisted? Unregistered code.

We telexed Washington.

Still waiting for a reply.

I think I got him, sir.

It's too late, assholes.

All your imperialist weapons and lies can't save him now.

We're going down. We're going to crash!

David 14, acknowledge.

Codes coming in, sir.

Tell this to the workers when they ask where your leader went.

We, the soldiers of the National Liberation Front of America,

in the name of the workers and all

the oppressed of this imperialist country

have struck a fatal blow to the racist police state.

What better revolutionary example

than to let their president perish

in the inhuman dungeon of his own imperialist prison?

The bosses of the racist...

Unlock the pod.

She's bolted the door.

Can't you shoot off the lock?

No, sir, she's pressurized the cabin.

How about lifting the door off at the hinges?

No, sir.

Get me to the pod.

Sir, this is a locating device to trace you

if you become separated from the pod.

I'm activating it now.

God save me and watch over you all.

Computer simulation.

Tracking Air Force One.

He's down!

It's the escape pod.

Forty degrees.

Fifty yards from impact.

I'm going in.

1-W-Larry.

Over the Battery.

We're moving down.

Crash site ahead.

You touch me, he dies.

If you're not in the air in 30 seconds, he dies.

You come back in, he dies.

Twenty seconds.

I'm ready to talk.

19, 18...

What do you want?

... 17, 16...

Let's go. Let's go!

Yes. He's right here, Mr. Vice President.

This is Bob Hauk.

We can't. If we move in with choppers, they'll kill him.

We're lucky if he's not dead already.

They don't want anything yet.

By the time they figure out what they want, it'll be too late.

Tell him we have to go with your plan. Now.

We can't wait till tomorrow. If we have to move in and take the island,

it's a last resort.

It's 8:45.

I want permission to try a rescue.

Thank you.

All right.

He's dangerous, sir.

I know. I'll be okay.

I'm not a fool, Plissken.

Call me Snake.

"S.D. Plissken, American.

"Lieutenant, Special Forces unit Black Light.

"Two Purple Hearts, Leningrad and Siberia.

"Youngest man to be decorated by the President."

You robbed the Federal Reserve depository.

"Life sentence, New York Maximum Security Penitentiary."

I'm ready to kick your ass out of the world, war hero.

Who are you?

Hauk.

Police commissioner.

Bob Hauk.

Special Forces unit Texas Thunder.

We heard of you, too, Plissken.

Why are we talking?

I have a deal for you.

You'll receive full pardon

for every criminal action you committed in the United States.

There was an accident.

About an hour ago, a small jet went down inside New York City.

The President was on board.

President of what?

That's not funny, Plissken.

You go in, find the President,

bring him out in 24 hours, and you're a free man.

Twenty-four hours?

I'm making you an offer.

Bullshit.

Straight. Just like I said.

I'll think about it.

No time. Give me an answer.

Get a new president.

We're still at war, Plissken.

We need him alive.

I don't give a fuck about your war or your president.

Is that your answer?

I'm thinking about it.

Think hard.

Why me?

You flew the Gullfire over Leningrad.

You know how to get in quiet.

You're all I've got.

I guess I go in, one way or the other.

Doesn't mean shit to me.

Give me the paper.

When you come out. Before.

I told you I wasn't a fool, Plissken.

Call me Snake.

Some of them have cars.

They took old junkers that were left behind, converted them to steam.

We think they may also have a gasoline source in there.

And power. Greenhouses, rigged-up generators, some areas have streetlights.

The "crazies," they live in the subways.

Complete control of the underground.

They're night raiders.

Tracer. Sends a radio signal for 15 minutes.

If you push it, we can track you on radar.

Just like Leningrad.

But they added something. A safety catch.

Where am I landing?

Top of the World Trade Center. Only place you can land.

They won't see it and you can take off from a free fall.

On the roof is a service elevator.

It's still operational.

We use it to infiltrate the prison.

There's a power box.

It'll activate the elevator down to 50.

From there on down, you walk.

You can locate the President by his vital-signs bracelet on his wrist.

Sends off a sync pulse. Use this.

Homing device.

Shows direction and distance.

Strong antitoxin, stops bacteria

and viral growth for 24 hours.

Take off your jacket.

I'll be all right.

Let's go, Plissken.

I don't like needles.

22 hours, 59 minutes, 57 seconds.

We talked about 24.

In 22 hours, the Hartford Summit meeting will be over.

China and the Soviet Union will go back home.

Now, the President was on his way

to the summit when his plane went down.

He has a briefcase attached to his wrist.

The tape recording inside has to reach Hartford in 22 hours.

What's on it?

You know anything about nuclear fusion?

All right.