Knight Rider

Oh, no. My God, no.

He was inside. Did you see who it was? Does it matter?

We gotta stop him. Move!

Okay. Okay.

Whoa! That's a close one.

Michael, slow down. You're going to crash.

I can handle it, KITT. But you're approaching a dangerous curve.

Your chance of survival is less than .04 percent.

Will you stop with the odds? I can handle... Aah!

Aah!

Sorry, Michael. That makes it 42 to three, my favor.

Well, these computer things are just a waste of time anyway.

Ahem.

Oh, present company excluded, of course.

KITT, go to manual. We're stopping.

Really? Why? Is there a young lady in the vicinity?

How'd you know that? Really, Michael. You're so predictable.

Michael, I hate to bring it up... We still have a mission waiting.

Don't worry about it.

Hi, uh, Lieutenant. Need a little help?

Nope. I need a lot of help. I'm Michael Knight.

Robin Ladd. What's the problem?

It won't go. Don't get too technical on me here.

Mind if I take a look?

Be my guest. Pop the hood, huh?

Ohh! Ooh.

You're right. Won't go.

You got a bad hose in there. It's totally shot.

Where you headed? Englehart Army Base.

No kiddin'. I'm going right past there. You want a lift?

Thanks. I'll just get my gear. You got it.

Well, KITT, looks like we're gonna join Travelers Aid.

- Gonna give the little lady a lift. - But what about her vehicle?

- We're gonna have to tow it in. - What do you mean, "we"?

Hey, hey, shh. Quiet.

Did I hear wrong or did you say "tow"?

Yeah, you know, tow, connect her car to our car. Tow.

Me? Michael, I was not designed to be a tow truck.

I have numerous complex systems which could be adversely affected.

Come on, KITT. You're built like a brick... garage.

Michael!

So what brings you to our neck of the desert?

Work. What kind of work?

Um, something like insurance. How long you been away?

Two years, in Germany. It's funny.

When I was just an army brat at the post school,

Englehart was my home.

Now it's my assignment. Army brat, huh?

Was your mom an officer? No, my dad.

And he's still there.

He's not expecting me till next week, but I wanted to be able to march into his office...

and say, "Colonel Ladd, sir, I'm reporting for duty."

Hope he won't mind. He won't.

If they had officers like you when I was in uniform, I never would've left.

Colonel Ladd?

I'm sorry, sir. I thought this was Colonel Ladd's office.

It is. You must be Lieutenant Ladd.

I'm Major Sanderson, General Duncton's adjutant.

Pleased to meet you, sir. Could you tell me where I could find my father?

I think perhaps you'd better talk to General Duncton.

Come with me, please.

What? Problems? You know the army.

Hurry up and wait.

Excuse me, General, but...

Robin Ladd, as I live and breathe!

Look at you! You're a poster for the modern army.

What's going on? Where is my father? Is he on leave?

Or didn't he get my message? Sanderson, didn't you tell her?

No, sir, I didn't. I-I thought you'd rather.

Then you don't know. Know what?

Oh, Robin.

There's been an accident.

I'm sorry.

His jeep went into Buena Vista Gorge out in the desert.

He probably blacked out before he ever felt anything.

Daddy. Oh, no.

There we were, two old warhorses, Ernest Ladd and I,

toasting each other over our latest promotions.

Suddenly he tells me, "Fred, you're not gonna bust those two trainees, are you? "

And I say, "Well, Ernie, we found 'em in the C.O.'s residence...

"havin'a party with some nurses.

What do you expect me to do? "

He looks at me and he says,

"I expect you to remember that you and I did the same thing in Eisenhower's office. "

Well, that was Ernie to a "T."

Anytime you'd swell up like a pompous balloon,

there he'd be with a stickpin.

You know, I don't know what they'd say at the war college, and I don't care,

but to me, Ernest Ladd was the ideal soldier,

a man of war...

who loved peace most of all.

Is there anything I can do?

Thank you. I'm all right.

Robin, your father sounded like a fine officer, a fine man.

He was.

Well, what are your plans now? Are you gonna stay?

This is my new post. Of course I'll stay. I have a job to do.

No, nobody said he'd been drinking. He just lost control of the wheel.

I guess his reflexes weren't what they used to be.

Maybe there is something you can do.

Didn't you say you were in insurance? Yeah, something like that.

Then answer this... Could a healthy, sober man...

lose control of a vehicle he drove every day on a road he drove every day?

I don't know. Why don't we find out?

Terrific.

Meet me in half an hour outside of B.O.Q.

That's 1600 hours, got it? Yes, ma'am.

Sorry. You can take the girl out of West Point, but...

I'll be there. No demerits if I'm late, okay?

- Michael, I'm afraid I have some alarming news. - I'm sitting down.

I've checked my circuits, and due to that towing incident, my alpha circuit is malfunctioning.

Yeah, I'm real sorry, KITT, but I think we can manage for a while without it.

Michael, what if it was your alpha circuit?

Okay, okay. You're still under warranty.

Call the home office.

That was very convincing. And productive.

You sure your father was coming in this direction? Yeah. Why?

Robin, the turn is inside towards the cliff, not outside towards the drop.

If your father was coming in this direction...

and he lost control exactly where I did,

he'd end up exactly where I did... Against the hill.

At worst, he'd end up messing up his paint job.

Well, then what made him go off the road?

This could be the reason. I found it near the edge.

What do you think, Sarge?

I think it may be time for another funeral.

So while you were overseas, your father never said anything,

he never wrote anything about unusual events back here at the base?

Nothing like that? Nope.

If he discovered anything, it must have been recently.

I could check out his quarters. Good idea. I'll check out his office.

KITT.

We gotta find a way in there. "We," Michael?

I think I would attract a great deal of attention inside that building.

Unfortunately, so would I. Unless...

Michael, I detect a certain tone in your voice.

Oh, what tone is that?

The one where you're convinced you've come up with a brilliant idea.

The next thing you know, you're doing something foolhardy,

and I'm in my surveillance mode.

KITT. Yes, Michael?

Go into your surveillance mode.

Stupid thermostat! Can I have a candy bar?

Yeah, sure.

Hey, Mac. I run a business here. For an hour, maximum.

Hey, I gotta sell my sandwiches. I'll buy them too.

I got chips and pretzels. Buy your chips and pretzels.

You know, for another 20, I'll adopt you.

Oh, hi. Would you guys like a snack?

Where's Sanj? Sanj? What's that, some kind of Indian thing?

No, Sanj, the regular sandwich vendor.

Oh, Sanj! He's on vacation.

I'm covering for him. Yeah? Where's your health card?

Health card? Yeah.

The one that shows you vendors ain't got no diseases we might catch.

Oh, that health card. I left that at home.

But I'm the picture of health. See?

Do you see that? I don't see that.

Let's take him in for a checkup.

Come on. Uh...

Uh...

What exactly were you doing, Mr. Knight?

Just trying to make a buck, Major. Is that a crime? No.

Then you could explain the cards in your wallet?

What cards?

"Michael Knight, Speedy Repairman."

"Michael Knight, Quick Carpet Cleaner."

"M. Knight Enterprises."

"Swedish massage while you wait."

Major, times are rough. I gotta take odd jobs to make ends meet.

I was very lucky that Uncle Sanj gave me this job.

Uncle Sanj. Even his family calls him that.

Yeah, well, yes, sir. We're a close family. Very close.

That should be easy enough to check...

Mr. Knight.

Oh, yeah. Help yourself. Anything for our boys in uniform.

Your Uncle Sanj verifies your story, Mr. Knight.

The next time you want to make a buck, get a health card.

Yes, sir.

Oh, uh, candy bar on the house?

Sir.

What's that vendor here for? Nothing much.

Why? Oh, no reason.

I thought I served with him in 'Nam.

Cotler, James. I got a job for you.

Lieutenant Ladd's civilian was snooping around the post.

Well... that certainly was food.

What, not everyone likes junk? I do.

I like junk food, but that stuff goes beyond junk.

Well, are you ready to compare notes?

Your turn. Yeah, right.

Um, was your father a handyman type, you know?

Do-it-yourself? No way.

He had to call the quartermaster just to change a lightbulb. Why?

Well, I sort of borrowed a file from the military police.

- It said your father had blue paint on his hands. - Blue paint?

Yeah. That ring any bells?

No.

Michael, I've been thinking.

I know I started this whole investigation of ours,