The Falcon and the Snowman

Chris.

Chris!

Easy, now. Easy.

Easy.

Easy. Hey, hey, OK! All right, climb up there, girl!

There you go! Climb on up now! There you go! There you go!

Get up there now! Get up there!

OK!

Come on, let's go for it now! Go for it! Yeah!

Go get 'em, Fawkes! There you go! There you go! OK! Yeah!

Go get 'em, Fawkes! Go get 'em! Go get 'em!

Count it and make sure.

- You a resident in the United States? - Yes, sir.

- Are you a resident? - Yes, I am.

- Any fruits or vegetables? - No, sir.

- Okay. Thank you. - Thank you.

Hello there. How are you today?

I'm doing fine.

Would you pull over to the inspection area, please?

- What are these? - Prescription Lomotil.

- How long have you been in Mexico? - Just for the summer.

- Hi. - How you doing?

- It's, uh... 82nd Airborne. Pleiku. - 2nd Division Marines. Korea.

Yeah? All right!

- Thanks a lot. - All right.

Where is it? Where is it? Good boy! Good boy!

Attaboy!

Go get 'em!

That's it! Good boy! Good boy! Where is it?

You can't walk with the ball! You gotta dribble it!

Hey, Carmen!

- Hi, Chris. Long time no see! - He up yet?

Hah! What do you think?

Daulton Lee, we've got you surrounded!

Who's there? Don't move!

It's me! It's me! Don't shoot!

Chris? Chris, stay down!

- They got us surrounded! - No! I was joking!

I was just kidding! Just kidding.

Hey!

- How are you? - All right. You're looking well.

Yes, I'm looking very well. So are you.

- Aw! - Oh. Sorry about that.

Plop! Little does it know!

You write a friend a letter, you expect a response.

- That's the way it works. - Good to see you.

Good to see you too, but I'm serious. I take it very personally.

- I write very few letters. - I wanted to surprise you.

Uh-huh.

This isn't a visit. I'm back for good.

Changed my mind. No seminary. Just couldn't go through with it.

What have you been up to? Pass the cantaloupe.

Is this a bad joke?

I thought you'd congratulate me for coming to my senses.

You're wrong! How many guys do you know whose best friend is also his priest?

I mean, I could've gone to confession and told the truth!

- I'm disappointed. - When did you last go to confession?

That's irrelevant.

- Did you tell your folks? - They don't know I'm back yet.

Oh! Oh, that'll be interesting!

The committee recommended the impeachment

of President Nixon, charging that

he acted in a manner contrary to his trust as President and subversive...

I don't care what these people say. The man is innocent!

- Right, Dad? - Keep it up.

Maggie, the garbage.

You gotta give me this moment! I may never be right about anything again!

You find this amusing?

Hardly.

Dad, it's for you!

- Mr. Waldie. - Aye.

- Mr. Flowers. - Aye.

- Mr. Mann. - Aye.

- Mr. Sarbanes. - Aye.

Mr. Wiggins.

- No. - No.

- Mr. Morehead. - No.

It's unbelievable.

You'll call Father Glenn today?

Mm-mm.

- It won't hurt to talk to him. - Ma, it's not gonna accomplish anything.

You don't know that.

You remember Tony Owens' son Gary?

- Careful, Dad. Careful. - I'm sorry.

I hired him last summer. I let his old man know the time had come to reciprocate.

Well?

If you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it.

I don't think you have the faintest clue what to do.

- Well, you could ask! - I'm asking.

Here.

You're to report 9 o'clock Monday morning.

Here is $10.

Get yourself a haircut.

I don't know what this is, Coach, but... I'm sure it's great!

You're welcome, son.

RTX Credit. Authorization code, please.

Yes, we show derogatories - credit and criminal.

- You're early. - You're late.

Chris.

Chris Boyce - Larry Rogers.

- How's it going? - Okay. Pretty good. How are you doing?

I've been saying to Larry that we'd better make things more interesting for you

or we'll lose you.

- Going back to school? - Yes, sir. I plan to next year.

- Medicine. - Law.

Yeah, that's right. Right. That's excellent. That's excellent, huh?

I don't know your father.

He's Director of Security over at Strata Research.

- Retired FBI. - Yeah, I know.

Good.

That's good.

- Debra. - Oh, hi!

- Hi. You got a minute? - Sure.

Get out my personal file, please.

- Chris, you know I can't do that. - I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please?

- Come on... - I don't have your access code.

I owe you one.

Wait a second.

File closed. Under review.

We've been checking into your background for some time, Mr. Boyce.

You're quite an impressive young man.

Do you ever hear anybody talking about birds here?

Birds?

No, sir.

The Black World? At lunch? Or in the men's room?

You never overheard anybody mentioning Black World projects?

- Just gossip. - No, sir.

Know why that is?

They don't exist.

At least, not as far as anyone without government clearance is concerned.

Do you want to do me a favour and sign this piece of paper for me?

It's backwards.

The Black World is a codename for a family of covert surveillance satellites.

Conceived by the Defense Department, manufactured and maintained by RTX,

and used primarily by a company you may have heard of

- in Langley, Virginia. - Central Intelligence.

Circling the earth with their cameras, heat sensors, microwave antennas,

they've significantly lightened the workload of human spies.

When Brezhnev chats with his mistress over his supposedly clean phone,

the birds listen in.

When he walks his dog in the park,

the birds take a picture of it pissing on the shrubbery.

When he tests his latest warhead

underground somewhere in Siberia and claims he hasn't,

the birds know he's lying.

You'll be working in the system's nerve center.

A communications vault linking RTX and our associates in Virginia

with tracking stations all around the world.

Alaska, Guam, Iceland, Australia, to name a few.

You'll be dealing with correspondence

that relates to the activities of the satellites.

Correspondence that you will find designated top secret.

It's protected by sophisticated cryptographic equipment

developed by the National Security Agency.

You're not to discuss any aspect of your job

with non-cleared RTX employees.

This is as far as I can go.

Not with your girlfriend. Not with your parents.

Not with your dog.

Not in the men's room, not over lunch.

Not in your sleep. Nowhere.

Are we clear so far?

Miss.

I'm not the secretary. There is no secretary.

Uh... I think somebody might've made a mistake. Is this the black vault?

No, but you're getting warm.

The vault's over there.

- Aw, fuck! - Excuse me.

- Mr. Norman? - Who the hell are you?

Boyce. Supposed to start working here.

Who says you're supposed to start working here exactly?

Well, I was briefed by Larry Rogers.

He didn't tell you?

You were supposed to show me how to work the machines, I guess.

Larry, this is Gene. I got this kid - supposed to be working here?

Don't get excited, Gene. I sent him over.

Uh-huh.

Sure, but nobody tells me anything.

- I'm telling you now. - Yeah, Okay. Yeah.

- We're working together. - Yeah.

Well, you didn't tell me that, did you? I thought maybe I was...

- So, you want a margarita? - Pardon me?

You want a margarita?

That'll be your desk over there... What was your name?

- Chris. - Gene.

- Gene. - You're gonna love it here, Chris.

Nobody can mess with you here.

Nobody's got clearance to get in. Not even Security.

Can you turn that thing off for me? Giving me a fuckin' headache!

Thanks.

Yeah! Just the three of us.

You and me and Laurie.

- Oh, hi, Laurie. - Hi.

- Want a margarita? - No. Maybe later.

Good. There's not enough anyway. Ran out of salt. Cheers.

I'm surrounded by junkie partners who turn me in the minute they get in trouble.

I don't trust any of them. I'm all alone.

Would you stop that? This is serious!

How much are they paying you or is that a big secret?

Uh, 140 a week, before taxes.