The Abyss

60 knots? No way, Barnes.

The Reds don't have anything that fast.

Checked it twice. I mean, it's a real unique signature.

No cavitation. No reactor noise.

It doesn't even sound like screws.

What the hell is it?

I'll tell you what it's not. It's not one of ours.

Sir, contact changing to heading 2-1-4.

Speed...

80 knots.

80 knots.

- Still diving. Depth: 900. - Still diving. Depth: 900 feet.

Port clearance: 150 feet from the cliff wall, sir.

It's getting tight in here.

We can still give him a haircut.

Helm, come right to... 0-6-9.

Down 5 degrees.

Coming right, 0-6-9. Down 5 degrees. Aye.

Port side clearance: 120 feet. Narrowing 75.

Sir, we have a proximity warning light.

It's too damn close! We gotta back off.

Sir, range to contact: 200.

Contact just jinked to bearing 2-6-0 and accelerated to...

...to 130 knots, sir.

Nothin' goes 130.

Sir, range to contact: 100 yards.

80 yards, sir!

60!

It's turbulence! We're in its wake!

Helm, all stop! Full right rudder.

Hydraulic failure. Planes not responding, sir.

Auxiliary power. Monitors back.

Hydraulics restored, sir.

Oh, my God!

Fire in sonar!

Collision alarm! Collision alarm!

Fire control to sonar!

Let's get outta here!

- Lighten her up, Charlie! - Port torpedo room is flooded, sir!

Blow all tanks! Blow all the tanks! Blow everything!

All back full!

Answering, all back full!

Give me a damage report! What's our depth?

Passing 1,400, sir.

Main forward tanks are ruptured!

Still descending, sir!

1,450.

Passing 1,500, sir.

Still descending.

- We're too deep to pump auxiliaries. - Passing 1,550, still descending sir.

- We're losin' her! - Passing 1,600, sir...

- ...and still descending! - Launch the buoy.

- Passing 1,700, sir. - Launching!

Come on! Give me your hand!

Get the door closed!

Benthic Explorer, Salvor 1 on final. Over.

Copy you, Salvor 1. This is Benthic Explorer.

You're cleared to land.

Hey! They're coming.

This... could get pretty ugly.

Yeah.

Does not look good at all.

Oh, no. Look who's with them.

The queen bitch of the universe.

Sonny, how you doin'?

I've got 2 more welds on this bypass valve.

No light from the surface.

- How deep are they? - McBride?

1,700 feet.

- I need them to go below 2,000. - No problem. They can do that.

So that's it? You just cheerfully turn the whole thing over to the goon squad?

Look, I was told to cooperate. I'm cooperating.

Kirkhill, you're pathetic.

Get Brigman on the line.

Deepcore, this is Benthic.

Man, if Bud goes along with this...

...they're gonna have to shoot her with a tranquilizer gun.

- Roger. - Hippy, get me Bud.

Catfish, get them old bones up here and give me a hand.

Hang on. I'll be up there in a second.

Hey, you guys are milkin' that job.

Yeah, it's just because we love freezing our butts off out here for you so much.

Bring me another hammer!

- Hey, Bud! - Yeah!?

Hippy's on the bitch box!

It's a call from topside. That new company man.

- Kirkhill? - Yeah.

That guy don't know his butt from a rat hole.

Perry, do me a favor, will you square away this mud hose...

and get rid of some of these empty sacks.

- This place is starting to look like my apartment. - You got it, boss!

- Bud, pick up the topside line. Urgent. - I'm coming, I'm coming!

Jeez, keep your pantyhose on!

Brigman here.

Yeah, Kirkhill. What's goin' on?

Yeah, I'm calm.

I'm a calm person. Is there some reason why I shouldn't be calm?

What!?

All right, I'm on last feed now.

Hey can you get that goddamn hippy shit music off the comm line, please?

I'm almost done with the shut-off valve.

Sonny, I'm right behind you with the next fitting.

Hang on a second.

- OK, give it to me. - Here you go.

Thanks, sweetie.

All divers, drop what you're doin'. Everybody out of the pool.

I mean everybody right now. Sonny, One Night, let's go.

Damn it. We just got out here.

There was a time when I woulda asked why.

- Get a move on! - Shit, woman!

Deepcore, Deepcore. This is Flatbed preparing to surface.

Roger, Flatbed. Come on up.

All rig personnel assemble at the moon pool.

Everybody get to sub bay. ASAP.

Come on. Let's get his hat off.

- Take it off. - What the hell's goin' on?

- How come we got recalled? - The hell if I know.

I got it.

- What's the drift, partner? Why are we up? - Just follow standard procedure.

Flog your dog till somebody tells you what's happenin'.

- What's the story, boss? - Folks, listen up!

We just been told to shut down the hole and prepare to move the rig.

- Oh, shit! - What?

We've received an invitation to, um, cooperate in a matter of national security.

Now you know as much as I do.

Get your gear off and get to control. We've got a briefing in 10 minutes.

Come on, come on! Let's move it!

At 09:22 local time today, an American nuclear submarine...

...the USS Montana, with 156 men aboard, went down...

- ...about 22 miles from here. - Damn!

There's been no contact with the sub since then. The cause of the incident is not known.

Your company has authorized the navy's use of this facility...

...for a rescue operation code-named Operation Salvor.

- You want us to search for the sub? - No. We know where it is.

But she's in 2,000 feet of water and we can't reach her.

We need divers to enter the sub and search for survivors, if any.

Don't you have your own stuff for this kind of thing?

By the time we get our submersibles here, the storm will be on us.

You can get your rig in and be on site in 15 hours. That makes you our best option.

Why should we risk our butts for something like this?

I have been authorized to offer you all special bonuses...

...equivalent to 3 times normal dive pay.

Yes, sir, buddy!

For triple time, I'd eat Beany!

Set me on fire and put me out with horse piss.

Look I don't know what kind of deal you made with the company...

...but my people are not qualified for this.

- We're oil workers - This is a paycheck!

Shut up! Hold it down.

This is Lieutenant Coffey.

He will transfer down to you with a SEAL team and supervise the operation.

You can send down whoever you like, but I'm the tool pusher on this rig.

When it comes to the safety of these people, there's me and then God.

Understand? If things get dicey,

I'm pulling the plug.

I think we're all on the same wavelength, Brigman.

Now, let's get the wellhead uncoupled, shall we?

All right let's get ready to meet.

Let's take it about 5 degrees left, all right?

Roger. 5 degrees left, Bud.

Plot these numbers to our position. I need to know when the leading edge will hit.

Well, it's official sports fans. They're calling it Hurricane Frederick.

And it's gonna be making our lives...

- ...real interesting in a few hours. - Fred, huh?

I don't know, man. I think hurricanes should be named after women, don't you?

- I can't believe you're letting them do this. - Hi, Lins!

I thought you were in Houston.

I was. Now I'm here.

- Only here isn't where I left it, is it, Bud? - Wasn't up to me.

We were that close to proving a submersible drilling platform could work.

- I can't believe you let them grab my rig! - Your rig?

- My rig. I designed the damn thing. - Benthic Petroleum paid for it.

So as long as they're holding the pink slip, I go where they tell me.

I had a lot riding on this. They bought you, didn't they? More like rented you cheap!

I'm switchin' off now.

Bye-bye.

Oh, OK. Virgil, you wiener! You never could stand up to a fight!

Bye-bye.

Virgil?

God, I hate that bitch!

Probably shouldn't have married her, then, huh?

Get it stable!

Roger Cab 3. You're clear to launch.

Hang on, gentlemen.

Touchdown! Crowd goes wild!

Explorer, this is Cab 3. We are styling.

- How you boys doin' back there? - Great.

Explorer, this is Cab 3. Starting our descent along the umbilical.

- Roger that, Cab 3. Good luck. - Luck is not a factor.

Hey, One Night, how you doing?

I got a white line fever, baby.

Yeah, I heard that.

Deepcore, Deepcore.

- This is Cab 3 on final approach. - Roger, Cab 3. Is that you, Lindsey?

None other.

Oh, no!

Howdy, boys!

Hey, Lindsey!

I'll be damned!

Y'all shouldn't be down here, sweet thing. You might ruin your stockings.