All language subtitles for WarGames-The.Dead.Code[2008]DvDrip-aXXo

(DANCE MUSIC PLA YING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

How many did she get?

All of them.

- Glad she's on our side.
- Yeah.

RIPLEY: Resuming game site surveillance.

DENNIS: Jay, I'm doing
all the work here, buddy. Come on.

Where are you? You're supposed to be
on my left flank with second platoon.

Die. Die. Die.

Jay, where are you?
I'm getting pummeled over here.

Die. Die. Jay, I said left flank, Jay.

Die. Die.
Jay, where are you in second platoon?

Why are you...
You're never where you're supposed to be.

Jay, Jay, that's me you're shooting.

Jay, you just shot me in the head, Jay.

Yeah, great, do me a favor.
Never join the Army.

Thank you.

(SIGHS) Amateurs.

Dude, I'm seriously bored over here.

Aren't you bored? What are you doing?

Hey, how about a war drive, huh?
We love that.

Okay, five minutes, World of Warcraft.
What do you say?

Come on, I need some bloodfang gear
and some undead rogues,

and you're the man.

No Warcraft. No rogues.

Remember, way back to last month,
when I maxed out my mom's credit card?

Yeah. But, you know, you paid her
all back. And wasn't she impressed?

Dude, I almost lost 2 grand.
Besides I'm still on probation.

(CHUCKLES)

Why? Why because you posted
this photo of Maltz on facebook?

Come on, look, he's having a great time.

(HUMMING)

No.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Okay, plan B.

I just traded these hacked
credit card numbers

to a guy online for
this new peer-to-peer tool.

You ready for this? Are you ready?

Guaranteed undetectable.
What do you say?

Be my guest.

Was kind of hoping you'd sort of help me
figure this stuff out

since I'm not totally sure how it works.

Look, man, I promised her I'd give it a rest.

Of course you did. It's your mom.
What else are you going to tell her?

- Only this time I meant it.
- Wow, I'm really touched. Sweet.

Here, call someone. Anyone but me.

Maybe I'll call your ex-girlfriend.
Ask her on a date.

(SCOFFS)

She'll probably play with me.

(RINGING)

Hello, White House,
how may I direct your call?

(LAUGHING)

Are you kidding me? Dude, how do you...

- That's my number.
- Come on, let's go.

- Can I have that?
- No.

- Thanks for the Pop-Tart.
- Hey, it's breakfast.

Hey, Will, I got a problem.

Hey, Mr. Massude. What? They still didn't
get your Medicare straight?

No, that's okay, thank you.

But it's my computer.
I don't know, it's stuck again.

Something about an administrator.

(HONKING HORN)

And you haven't introduced any
new software since I wiped your drive?

Come on, we're gonna be late
for gym class,

and that would be a huge tragedy.

Well, it's sites my granddaughter sent me.

I know you warned me about it.

But, you know, she's in Damascus
and she sent pictures.

And you know how hard for me
it is to see her.

Did you get a security alert?

No, I simply cannot get
into my banking files.

Come on, let's go. Let's go. Let's go.

Okay, I'll have a look when I get back.

- But just don't do anything else. Okay?
- Okay. Thank you.

All right. And I'll pick up your prescription
on my way home.

- Bye.
- Okay.

- Enjoy the view, dickhead.
- Screw you, Maltz.

Why don't you go make out
with your cross-eyed girlfriend?

Penis.

Newman, is this your first time
with FIGJAM?

FIGJAM?

Yeah, we're in
the information acquisition business.

- Well, okay.
- Yeah.

FIGJAM. "Fuck I'm good, just ask me."

(DOOR OPENS)

Him.

This better be good, Rashe.

Good morning, Ken.

Show me.

RIPLEY: Morbidity rate, 98.6%.

TINA: Set up the SCIF.

Get me Paget from Homeland,
Cavanaugh from CDC

and Stradler from the joint chiefs.

- Again, full-screen.
- NEWMAN: Yes, sir.

That's my girl.

(PEOPLE CHA TTERING
IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES)

These are terrorists, people.

Eliminated in an automated operation
with 98.6% efficiency.

98.6, the temperature of blood.

And not a drop of ours spilled,
thanks entirely to our girl RIPLEY.

RIPLEY detected this particular
terrorist cell

through one of her honeypot sites.

Attractive, high-stakes games hidden
in the darker reaches of the Internet.

Screen.

Once a player penetrates level 5,
RIPLEY tags him as a security threat.

RIPLEY engaged skilled gamers,

exhibiting familiarity
with weapon systems and terror tactics.

This particular group managed to pool
winnings of just under $3 million,

- which we paid.
- Wait a minute.

- You paid a terrorist group $3 million?
- That's affirmative, General.

But you'll be pleased to know
that everyone associated with this group

is either in custody or already enjoying
their much-hyped afterlife.

RIPLEY walks tall
and carries a very big stick.

That's why we applaud everyone here

for endorsing RIPLEY's status
of complete autonomy,

both foreign and domestic.

Temporary domestic autonomy, Kenneth.

Let's take your girl for a walk
before you let her off her leash.

There were innocents at that party.
Understandably collateral.

But what assurances do we have

RIPLEY won't orchestrate
a similar attack at home?

RIPLEY won't be dropping bombs at home,
Mr. Paget.

And there will always be innocents.

At least RIPLEY hit this target
away from population and cameras,

and she targeted their vehicle,

which just happened to be loaded with
C-4 and Iranian Katyusha missiles.

The explosion that killed these people
was theirs, not ours.

- Thank you for your time.
- One question.

What happens if we miss the connection
after we've paid them off?

I mean, if these guys are smart enough
to beat the game,

then they might be smart enough
to beat their tail,

in which case we wouldn't just
be tempting them,

we'd be financing them.

Terror is a filthy sewer,

filled with hatred and bile
that threatens our shores.

If we are to protect ourselves,

we have to be able to anticipate threats.

Are we tempting those
who would harm us?

Damn right.
If they're innocent, truth will out.

In the meantime, RIPLEY will be online
24/7, looking to identify our enemies.

And the next 16-year-old who is a year
away from strapping on a bomb.

(BELL RINGS)

TEACHER: Let's focus, people.
You got 10 minutes to turn in your tests.

(DIALING)

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Need answers for 7, 15, 16 and 20.

Mr. Maltz, I believe
you dialed the wrong number.

Damn.

MAN ON SCREEN: All computers
are doomed to make mistakes.

This machine didn't make
this kind of mistake.

This machine was adjusting itself
during the game

to the situation that just arose.

Now, I know I propose that these...

Hey, you know you promised your mom
you won't play WOW anymore?

I totally agree with that.

In fact, I swear to you, I will never, ever
bother you about that again.

- Aren't you gonna ask why?
- Why...

Actually, you don't have to
because I'm gonna tell you anyway.

I just found this new gaming site.
It's called RIPLEY.

You know, like the Matt Damon movie.

- Or Alien.
- Yeah, whatever.

Anyway, this one has no limit,
and I will stake you

with every cent that I have.

Which is equal to or less than the amount
you already owe me.

Less. Less, actually.

So, exactly how did Mr. Kasparov
beat Big Blue,

the world's smartest chess computer?

He used an unexpected strategy...

He used an unexpected strategy.
A counter-intuitive strategy.

Something the computer
couldn't anticipate.

Mr. Farmer, you've suddenly taken
an interest in chess?

(CLEARS THROAT)

Well, actually, I don't play.
But I was considering taking it up.

Perhaps you'd like to join our excursion
to Montreal for the internationals?

- I'll think about it.
- Think, Mr. Farmer.

Imagine yourself making a decision.

(BELL RINGING)

So, you're interested in chess?

About as much as you.

Oh, you mean, because it didn't look like
I was paying attention?

Because you were texting
and doing your nails.

I already know that match by heart.

- Oh, you don't believe me?
- Didn't say that.

Didn't have to.
You looked up and to the right.

- It's a clear tell.
- Oh, really?

What am I telling now?

Pain.

If you're serious about the trip,

it's $550, but you might get a discount
because of the no-show.

- You going?
- What's it to you?

Just curious.

You are so full of it.

You're an easy read for a smart kid.

Maybe you shouldn't take up chess,
'cause if I faced you over a board,

I'd take you apart before your first move.

(SCOFFS)

Bring it on, then.

No, you gotta get yourself together
before someone can take you apart.

That's how it works.

There's a little hope

(HONKING HORN)

In little plans

Bells chime out today

You made your key quite old to find

The space you left behind
fills meaning there

But now just favorite songs

You know tonight I'm home

Hmm.

Favorite quote, Robert Oppenheimer.

Okay. Dog's name. Hoover.

(DENNIS SNORING)

(CLICKS TONGUE)

Younger sister. Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Becky.

No!

(COMPUTER VOICE READING)

I have your ID, sucker.

You try and hack my password again,
I'll burn you.

(CHUCKLES)

She put in a mousetrap. That's scary.

(SNORES)

Of course, if you happen to be
Mr. Will Farmer,

maybe you should just come to Montreal
if you're so curious.

(DISHES CLATTERING)

Grab me a beer.

So neatness doesn't really count.

Not when you're about to pass out.

(SNEEZES)

Bless you. Tough day?

Lately, we're putting out more bullshit
than air freshener.

(SNIFFS)

Don't touch!

They're dumping my odorless bleach idea.

But I talked them into letting me keep
my beta samples.

"Talked them into."

(COUGHING)

Let's just say they owed me.

It's one thing to take my ideas
and keep all the profits,

but to dump something

because a new VP doesn't want
to be upstaged by a woman...

(SNEEZES)

You getting sick?

Uh-huh.

I hope it's a cold. The flu is supposed to be
really nasty this year.

What would you say if I told you
I was thinking of taking up chess?

I'd wanna know the girl's name,
and how much it's going to cost.

(LAUGHS)

Mr. Massude left you a packet.
It's over by the door.

(GROANS)

There's a trip to Montreal.

It's $550, but I think I can get a discount.

Her name's Annie.

Good luck.

Everybody wanted to see you

Everybody wanted to steal

Okay.

No one else is here to stop this

Something they just couldn't steal

- Spyware?
- No. Something else.

There's someone deep inside.
I just wiped this drive two days ago.

Well, I guess you didn't do
a very good job, did you?

Funny guy.

He said he was having problems
with his online banking.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

You know this guy's
online banking password?

Yeah, I helped him set up the account.
He couldn't remember, so...

- $97,000?
- That's weird.

- What?
- Look at this.

Dude, $105,000?

- How? We changed everything.
- Why?

He was worried about his brother
back in Syria, who he says is a crook.

His brother's a crook?

See? Same last name.

But the guy's putting more money
than he's taking out.

Yeah, it's called layering.

You put it in and take it out a couple
thousand at a time to avoid detection.

I mean, this stuff never sits
more than a few hours.

Really?

But for now, all of that money is real.

No, I'm just gonna hack some SkyMiles
and then see if I can...

Come on, dude.
It's not like you're stealing,

you're fixing the guy's computer.

Listen to me, Will, listen to me,
all you have to do, okay,

is transfer some money for 15 minutes,

log on, you win some money
from the RIPLEY game, right?

- And then you put it back.
- No.

With interest.

Do you want to go on that trip to Montreal
with your future ex-wife or not?

'Cause this is your only chance.

Fifteen minutes.

RIPLEY: Welcome, baby.

Whoa, she's hot.

Play with me, baby.

Come on, big fellow. Play with me.

Come on.

Your $500 wager has been accepted.

Please select your game platform.

- Nah.
- Nah.

The Dead Code. Smells like money.
Take it. Take it.

Do it. Yeah.

You have selected the Dead Code.

Please choose body count.

All right.
Let's see what 20,000 dead gets us.

You have selected 20,000 bodies.

It gets you half an hour of game play,
which is good.

Yeah, but you're only playing
for even odds, man. That sucks.

Why don't you bump it up
to 100,000 bodies?

(SIGHS)

You've selected 100,000 bodies...

Yeah, 5-to-1 odds, now we're in business.

- Thank you very much.
- Yeah, but I've only got 10 minutes.

Okay, do you want your mom to finish
her bath and come pay us a visit?

Come on, dude, you're only in
for 500 bucks.

What's the worst that could happen?

Even if you bust, go back to
Massude's account and get more money.

No. This is a one-time
and a one-time deal only. Remember?

Yeah.

RIPLEY: You have entered the Dead Code.

Prepare for scenario selection.

You have 10 minutes to procure
and deploy bio and chemical weapons.

Okay.

Penetrate our security protocols
and exterminate 100,000 citizens.

Please select your target area code.

- Philadelphia.
- Philadelphia.

Target Philadelphia.
Projected dead, 100,000.

Current wager, $5000.

You have 10 minutes
to complete your mission.

- What?
- I'm gonna kill you, man.

Clock's ticking, Will.

Contract begins now.

Good hunting, Will.

- This is interesting.
- What do you got?

We have a first-timer playing
the Dead Code for $5,000 at 5-to-1.

Where is he?

(BREATHES HEAVILY)

Looks like Philly.
He's pretty good, whoever he is.

- Better tag him POI.
- No, no, forget it.

Whoever this person of interest is,
RIPLEY's already got five flags on him.

Who is this guy?

(DENNIS LAUGHING)

We're gonna be rich, Will.

Yes, I'm gonna buy a 72-inch plasma
for my room,

rig my entire house with computers.

- No more schools...
- Quit talking!

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)

RIPLEY: Twenty thousand dead.

Opponent has been engaged at level 2.

You have eight minutes to complete
your body count.

(SCREAMING)

Would you quit hopping?

RIPLEY: Thirty thousand dead.

How are we doing?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

- Quit breathing.
- Then I'll die.

Exactly.

RIPLEY: Forty thousand dead.

Opponent has been engaged at level 3.

Check out the tail on his buy-in.

Oh, straight out of Damascus.

Via Fort Worth to banks in two, three...

Ten US cities.

Nice, nice, 50% morbidity count
and climbing.

Keep going. Keep going. Sorry.

Dude, dude, look at your playing chart.

Oh, my God.
You're about to set off the decon system.

RIPLEY: Decon counterattack.

- Like flies.
- That's tragic.

But profitable.

Half of Philly is gonna die, a.k. A...

(SINGING)
Decontamination of the population

Philly's gonna burn in flames of damnation

(HUMMING)

RIPLEY: Sixty thousand dead.
Game clock reset.

Two minutes to complete body count.

Opponent has been engaged at level 4.

DENNIS: (SINGING)
Philly's gonna burn in flames of damnation

RIPLEY: Soluble contaminants confiscated.

They just took
all my airborne soluble contaminants.

So what? Nuke 'em.

Wrong game. You gotta stick
with chem weapons. Neurotoxins.

Come on, there's always room for nukes.

- One minute to complete your mission.
- Wait. Where are you going?

Better hurry, Will.

Select secondary weapon.

Mom, if you had to choose between
atomizing anthrax or sarin,

which would be more deadly?

- GAIL: Will, honey...
- Just guess.

- You're talking about sarin gas?
- Yes.

Why do you want to know such a thing?

Mom, please, just take your best shot.

Go with sarin.
It's much quicker, it's odorless.

- Select secondary weapon.
- Come on, come on, come on.

You have 20 seconds
to complete your body count.

Select... You have selected sarin.

Eighty thousand dead.

Ninety thousand.

Congratulations, Will.
One hundred thousand dead.

Opponent has been engaged at level 5.

Oh, shit!

- What happened?
- Shut him down.

RIPLEY shut him down.

- Aaron, Claudia, did you get that?
- We're on it.

Will?

(SIGHS)

Did we win?

She knew her pigeon was toast
and wanted to keep him on the hook.

- When he reboots his computer...
- He'll have a new friend in his CPU.

Oh, yeah.
RIPLEY'll be so far up this guy's butt,

he won't know whether
to scratch his watch or wind his ass.

Tina, we got a big bite on RIPLEY.

Yeah, I'm already on top of it.
We have a team headed for Philly now.

That's right. It's domestic.

Hey, Bill, I'm bringing back
a nice, greasy Philly cheese steak.

BILL: You're a cruel man, Aaron.

RIPLEY: Initiating Spyware ICE.
Returning to regulated power grid.

(COMPUTER BUZZING)

Play with me, baby.

Play with me, baby.

Come over here. Come and play.

BILL: Activate his webcam.

Don't stop now.

Congratulations, Will.

You've won $25,000.

How could they have closed his account?

Play with me, baby.

Play with me, baby.

Play with me...

Play with me, baby.

Play with me, baby.

Play with me...

This is not right. This is not right.

(VIBRATING)

Play with me, baby.

Play with me, baby.

Newman, I'm out of here. Keep watching.

RIPLEY: Constructing opponent matrix.

Why? This is not right.

You can call your attorney later,
Mr. Massude.

Mom!

Mom, what was that all about?

I don't know. Mr. Massude didn't really
have time to talk.

He wanted me to make sure
to give you this.

And he said thanks.

(SNIFFLING)

He didn't say anything else?

Those two with him,
and they didn't exactly try to shut him up,

but you could tell that
they didn't want any chitchat.

If you ask me, it's probably
something to do with immigration.

But he's nearly done
with his citizenship program.

- Aren't you gonna open it?
- Yeah, sure, right.

Holy shit!

(GASPS)

Wow! So what time's your flight?

(COMPUTER BEEPS)

(HORN HONKING)

- Bye, Mom.
- Bye, sweetie. Have fun.

- Okay, you're sure he's coming?
- He said he was coming.

Well, I guess he's not gonna make it.

Looks like it's gonna be just you and me.

- I'm gonna go look for him.
- Relax. Relax. Sit down, okay? Hold it.

I'll go find him. Please make sure
they don't leave without me.

Yeah.

- Mr. Nichols?
- Yeah.

- Looking for your friend? Will Farmer?
- Yeah, why? You know where he is?

This way.

Where are you taking me?

Excuse me. Sorry.
Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry.

Excuse me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Some basic rules
for this excursion, Mr. Farmer.

If you're going to be late,
please let us know.

And if you feel the need to be
overly dramatic,

save it for the school play.

I'm sorry. I'm having trouble with my cell.

Will.

- You made it.
- Yeah.

WILL: I sent a text to Dennis.
Didn't he tell you?

It's from security.

No.

WOMAN ON PA: Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you for your patience.

Please prepare for departure.

Mr. Baron, we can't leave without Dennis.

Everyone can relax. I just heard
from Mr. Nichols via airport security.

Something to do with a family situation.

Hopefully he'll be joining us
in Montreal by tomorrow.

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

This way, Mr. Nichols.

DENNIS: Aren't you going to offer me
a cigarette and a blindfold?

We usually wait until after we beat you
with a phone book, Mr. Nichols.

You know, if you guys want
to convince me I'm not in any trouble,

then you'll quit calling me Mr. Nichols.

We don't have to convince you
of anything, Mr. Nichols.

It's going to be up to you to convince us.

Of what exactly?

That I'm not part of
a high-school terrorist chess conspiracy?

Why did you make me miss my flight?

Do you have any idea how much money
my father paid for that ticket?

Tell us about Mr. Farmer, your friend.

All right.

Tell us about the game.

MAN: If you'd like to cooperate,

you might save both yourself
and your friend a great deal of trouble.

What do you want me to say?
There's nothing to tell.

Will is just a smart kid
who played some stupid online game

to win some money to go on a trip
with a girl. That's it. Okay?

End of story. There's nothing else.

But you know, I mean,
if you guys wanna add more to that,

then feel free to call my father,
who happens to be a lawyer.

Then we can sue you
for violation of my civil rights.

- What girl?
- You've got to be kidding me.

Consider this.

Your smart friend used funds provided
by a terrorist cell in Syria

and wagered it against
government computers,

and displayed insider knowledge
of biological and chemical weapons.

Meanwhile, his mother,
a bio-engineer at Wyren,

has been stealing and stockpiling
chemical agents.

This means that your very smart friend,
Mr. Will Farmer,

is being sought for bioterrorist activities
against Philadelphia,

and is very likely to spend
the rest of his life in federal prison.

Regarding your civil rights,
you don't have any,

not where terrorist linkage is
highly probable.

- You happy now, Dennis?
- Why should I be happy?

I just called you Dennis, didn't I?

PILOT: Command, we have visual
on Baker, Zulu, Niner.

We'll continue observer status
till subject lands. Copy.

It wasn't Immigration,
wasn't the local law, it wasn't FBI.

- You hacked all those sites?
- I had to find out who took him.

According to local, state and
federal databases, that car doesn't exist.

- So who took him?
- I don't know.

But whoever it was
really freaked the shit out of him.

Because he left me an insane amount
of cash for fixing his computer.

He knew he was gonna
be gone for a while.

(GAIL COUGHING)

(PHONE RINGING)

(SIGHS)

- Hello?
- WILL: Mom, hey.

Will, is that you?

Of course it's me.
Who else calls you Mom?

Are you in Montreal?

No, we're still on the plane.
They're still kind of circling.

Listen, I was just wondering,
have you heard anything from Dennis?

He didn't make the flight.
Something about a family emergency.

No, nobody called, I don't think.

Hey, anything else about Mr. Massude?

A moving van pulled up,
and I think they took everything out.

They cleaned out his house?

(DOORBELL RINGS)

- WILL: It just seems kind of sudden.
- Oh, just a sec.

- Hey, Mom.
- There's somebody at the door.

They're wearing suits.

Either they want to sell me a Bible
or I've just won $1,000,000.

Have fun. Love you.

I love you, too. Feel better.

(PHONE VIBRATING)

MAN ON PA: Thanks for your patience.
We have been cleared to land in Montreal.

Got it.

Come on, Dennis.
I want to show you something.

I want to talk to my father!

(INAUDIBLE)

No! Let her go! Mrs. Farmer!

Still think
we're playing games here, Dennis?

I'm gonna get a coffee.
Can I get you a coffee, Dennis?

Thank you, Dennis.
You've been a great help.

Would you like to call your father now?

WILL: I don't know, I'm worried about her.

I cannot get a signal in here.

Don't worry. I'm sure your mom is fine.
We'll try her when you get outside, okay?

(MAN SPEAKING FRENCH OVER PA)

I feel like I'm stoned,
and not in a good way.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

It's Dennis.

He's got a strange number,
but that's definitely his tag.

Will! Will!

Will!

- RIPLEY had a lock on him?
- She's got him.

Let's see where he leads us.

Quite a performance.

Tell the airport unit they did solid work.
We'll take him from here.

RIPLEY: Emergency override.

- What the hell is this?
- Why did she just do that?

- Somebody?
- I'm locked out.

BILL: We're back on.
RIPLEY: Analyzing compound.

Bioterror threat, level 2.

- Holy shit.
- Tell me why that happened.

What does she know?
Come on, what does she know?

She's analyzing the chemical compounds
that were seized from the Farmer home.

If I were a betting man,
I would say she found something.

(BUZZING)

(PHONE VIBRATING)

- Perfect.
- BILL: Who is it?

Jesus!

I just got off the phone with CDC
and Homeland,

who were giving me
a tag-team ass-chewing

because you put Philadelphia
on a stage 2 alert.

Not us, sir. RIPLEY.

That's exactly what we wanted to do.
What the hell's their problem?

Well, there's a new flu out there,
and Cavanaugh's people are jumping.

Meanwhile, RIPLEY has labeled
Mrs. Farmer's son

as a person of interest,

and we're tagging him
to see where he leads.

- How's the hunt going?
- On the Syrian front, extremely well.

- Solid leads.
- I've got a budget meeting next week.

This could be good.

(DIAL TONE BEEPING)

I don't know much about him...

- Mr. Baron.
- Annie, Annie, please.

It's been a very miserable afternoon
for all of us.

You have my word they will let me know
the minute they hear anything.

But for now, can we just take a Will break
and find our bus?

Sorry. I'm sorry.

It's my fault. I've been meaning to get
these glasses fixed,

but life just keeps getting in the way
of my best plans.

Tell me about it.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

(CAMERA CLICKING)

That's great.

- WILL: Did anyone see you leave the group?
- No, you really scared me.

Are you all right?

Okay, let's go. Okay.

Video cameras, street surveillance.
They're tracking me.

- Who are "they"?
- That's what we have to find out.

We?

Listen, I promise,
I will not get you into trouble.

I just want to find out if my mom is okay.

I have a plan. If I could do this alone,

I wouldn't ask you. Come on.

So what now?

I've gotta hack RIPLEY
and try to find my mom.

You're nuts, do you know that?

(LENS ZOOMING)

Okay, take a look.
He's standing next to the computer.

- You see him?
- Yeah. No, I don't see anything.

Here. Tell me what you see.

I see a really, really hot guy.

That's not what I meant.

Okay, Mr. Slick over there is doing
more than just mesmerizing women

with his supreme, manly intelligence.

He is hacking into the merchant bank
supercomputer behind us.

I was in the caf�.
The guy's pulling heavy side jobs.

I'm talking running credit cards
and pocketing the cash.

Of course, he didn't notice me
because I'm not a chick.

And these Pringles,
this is all part of your plan?

Yes, as a matter of fact, yes.

We're gonna piggy-back on our guy there
to get into that system.

You don't really think he's hot.

Okay, so that's why we have
to borrow his terminal.

Borrow?

And let me guess,
you want me to distract him?

- Just for a minute.
- Not a problem.

And yes, in a purely
put-a-bag-over-his-personality,

use-him-as-a-pleasure-machine
kind of way,

he's passable.

- So, you want to use a computer?
- You look really smart.

Thanks.

It's hot.

You know computer?

- Is that a camera?
- Yeah.

- So technological.
- See?

Just go there. You wanna use it?

- ANNIE: There are so many letters...
- Pleasure machine?

...I don't know what to pick.
- Just pick one.

- That one.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

(ANNIE EX CLAIMS)

- Sorry. Sorry.
- That's all right.

- The Internet isn't waterproof, right?
- I just wish.

It's all right. So, mademoiselle,
let me show you the computer over there.

Okay. Mademoiselle.
You have a really nice accent.

- (GIGGLING) I like that.
- You like that? All right.

MAN: I'll just show you how this works.
ANNIE: Yeah.

Oh, wow, there's numbers
on the top and under.

Easy, isn't it?

You can actually give me
your e-mail address.

Really?

- Do you have one?
- I don't know what that is.

Oh, okay, yeah.

That was impressively scary.
I almost felt sorry for the guy.

- Thank you.
- Almost.

Is your cell phone working?

Don't worry. I'll bump through some
hacked accounts, so they can't trace us.

Fine.

Okay, we should be peer-to-peer

and ready to look
right down RIPLEY's throat.

Okay, so, like, when other kids were out
playing baseball,

you were in a dark room
playing with computers?

I played baseball. Third base. All-stars.

And I didn't play with computers,
I built them.

Okay, can you spell "over-achiever"?

Hey, my dad taught me about computers,
and he was my third-base coach.

Blame him.

RIPLEY: Attention. Intrusion.

Sorry. Talk to me.

We got somebody in our database
with a knife and fork.

No, make that a shovel.

They're backdoor
through a hacked account.

Someone knows what they're doing.

- Any idea?
- RIPLEY's tracing it.

Oh, Christ, get that image off the screen.

At least we know who's watching.

But he didn't need to see her like that.

RIPLEY: Tracing file access.

Inserting mobile tracking software.

- What's RIPLEY gonna do?
- In all likelihood, she's already done it.

This is Carter.
Who have we got up at Montreal?

- Do you think that was her?
- I couldn't really tell.

She's got bad sinuses from working
around chemicals all these years.

When she gets a cold, if she's not careful,
it turns to pneumonia.

- Will, Will, we can't stay here.
- Why?

Because there is someone watching us
in the doorway across from the caf�.

This guy.
I ran into him before at the airport.

- A guy? What guy? What did you say?
- I... Nothing.

He seemed innocent. I just ran into him.

Oh, jeez! Annie, go.

(GASPS)

(HONKING)

Over here. This way. I think we lost them.

ANNIE: Go, go, go, go!

WILL: Down here.

(HONKING)

(PANTING)

- Okay, did we lose them?
- WILL: Yeah, I think so.

It's crazy.

Oh, Jesus! Come on, run.

(THUDDING)

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

- Where are we going?
- The subway. Just trust me.

This way! Cut them off!

- Are they following us?
- I don't know.

(ANNIE SCREAMS)

Are you okay?

(GASPING)

RIPLEY: Tracing mobile transponder.

We gotta be bugged.
Did they give you anything at orientation?

I didn't get that far, remember?

Wait. Wait. Your cell phone.

Stupid.

Will! Will!

RIPLEY: Connection lost. Connection lost.

Will.

(CRYING)

(SHUSHING)

It's okay. It's all right.

- We're gonna stay here till after dark.
- No, no, they're gonna come after us.

They won't.

- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
- I just wanna go home.

The girl's cell phone,
found it 12 miles down the track.

They're still searching.
They haven't found the kids, you know.

- You want some fries?
- Yes, thank you.

RIPLEY have any guesses
where they're going?

I don't think RIPLEY guesses
about anything.

I think RIPLEY relies
on her amazing feminine intuition.

Sorry, RIP, didn't mean
to make that sound offensive.

(PEOPLE SPEAKING
FOREIGN LANGUAGES)

- And the mother?
- She's still in ICU.

They're doing tests on her.
Nobody's sure exactly what she's got.

Does Hassert know any of this?

BILL: You didn't speak to him?
You know, I spoke with him earlier.

He's confident
that RIPLEY's following protocols

and that we should do the same thing.

RIPLEY premature in any of this?

Who knows? That profile certainly fits.

Kid and his mother both disenfranchised
after what happened to the father.

The kid with outstanding computer
and chem weapon knowledge.

And the stuff that
we found in that kitchen...

There's stuff there that could be used
to make a bio-weapon,

which could trigger the decon system,

or it could be used to make
anti-bacterial mouthwash.

And where are the samples?

That's the thing. She won't tell us.

- What?
- Yeah.

Hassert gave RIPLEY priority
to classify on her own discretion.

- Even from us?
- Yeah.

- What do you think?
- Thinking is...

RIPLEY: Bioterror threat, level 3.

Decontamination system on standby.

Back at the caf�, when my e-date
was wowing me

with his mastery of the Internet,

I asked him if he ever heard about RIPLEY.

Let me guess, he claimed
he owned the concept.

Not exactly,
but he did help me do a Google search,

which, yes, I could have done myself,
but you said to distract him.

Did you ever hear about
a guy named Stephen Falken?

He designed the old system,
the one that they replaced with RIPLEY.

The Joshua Project.

I know what the Joshua Project was.

I just had no idea
it was replaced by RIPLEY.

No, not just that.

When RIPLEY took over,
Falken went crazy.

He threatened to kill himself to stop them,
and then they ignored him.

And one day he just rode his truck
off a bridge.

He killed himself?

Just an urban legend.

And he had remarried,
he had a wife and two kids.

A hell of a protest.

I think I just found a way out.

I'm just gonna stay here.

RIPLEY: Upgrading search for suspects
to local police.

I hope this is important, people.

The fat lady was just about to die
of consumption.

I'll assume we're all up to speed

with the samples confiscated
from the Farmer residence.

I believe it's clear that these alone
constitute just cause for a level 3 alert.

The complete list contains
at least 15 agents

which, in a series of combinations,
could be used as a bio-weapon.

- By who?
- That's our call.

We also have confirmation

from your chemical and bio-sensors
in the greater Philadelphia area

that they are showing the presence
of some of these compounds.

Well, we're talking about a major
chemical manufacturing corridor here.

Hell, we've got Wyren, Dow, Corning
and four or five others

less than 10 miles from downtown Philly.

All the more reason for caution.

You can't honestly believe
this kid's mother is involved.

Worst thing anyone's ever said about her

is that she's over-qualified
for her pay scale.

- You're forgetting the father.
- Ancient history.

The woman works with household
and personal antiseptics.

We're talking about mouthwash,
for Christ's sakes.

They test the stuff on bacteria,

which makes it perfectly reasonable
to expect traces at home.

I doubt the woman could threaten
our democracy with gingivitis.

There were more than traces.

We are talking about the quarantine
of millions of people,

billions in expense, not to mention
the potential for riot and panic.

And how in hell did you gain access
to our sensory data

without our knowledge?

It's as much our turf as yours.

Our turf? Our call?
Are these your staff's decisions?

Or is this incredible load of horse shit

being handed out by
that computer vixen of yours?

Computer vixen? I see.

I'd like to underscore the importance
of our mutual cooperation,

and unless I hear otherwise, I'm going
to assume we have your support.

Unless anyone has anything to add,
I'm going to try and catch the fourth act.

I gotta get some real food.

- I wish I'd taken French.
- I did.

I'm trying to remember the French word
for "hotdog."

Try bread. What's that?

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

You want two rabbits?

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

Nice work.

Two of those.

- Hotdogs.
- Yes, hotdogs.

- Hey, we're gonna get through this.
- Are you sure?

I haven't been sure of anything

since that "glass half full" question
in seventh grade.

Really? So, what is it?

Half full or half empty?

You first.

Never thought it mattered
unless you happen to be dying of thirst.

(NEWSCASTER CHA TTERING ON TV)

- Oh, my God!
- What?

It's us. We're on TV. We're like this
bio-chem version of Bonnie and Clyde.

Will, there's a cop.

Still there?

- I think we should split up.
- Okay.

- I'm gonna go first.
- All right.

Okay.

You should stay together.

I have a truck in the lot down by the pier.

- Meet me there.
- Who are you?

I'm the gentleman who nearly
started World War III.

Move, move. We haven't much time.

On the driver's seat, there's a laptop.
If you wouldn't mind...

Okay.

You're Stephen Falken.

Mr. Slick showed me his picture
on the Internet.

You know what?
You're supposed to be dead.

I am, technically.

After I trashed my reputation
and everything else I valued in life,

trying to put a stop to RIPLEY,

suicide seemed like a believable way out.

This way, I can keep tabs
on what they're up to,

without giving them a reason to kill me.

How did you find us?

I've been following RIPLEY,
RIPLEY's been following you,

and my little friend here helped.

Damn, we're out of range.

May I?

(SIGNAL BUZZING)

(POLICEMAN CHA TTERING)

FALKEN: They're biting.

They assume you've already escaped.

And they're abandoning their perimeter.

Very clever.

All I need is a clear line of sight,

I can hack into their cells,
reroute all their calls through me.

Too risky, with RIPLEY watching.

Any signature, and she'll be on us.

What do they want?

RIPLEY is hunting.
You, Will, and everyone on her matrix.

Let's go, please.

Wait, before we go, you mind telling us
where we're going?

To find someone to help us stop RIPLEY.

Jesus, Bill.

What the hell is that?

Please tell me this isn't
another RIPLEY issue.

Not exactly.

Look, I understand what RIPLEY's doing.
It's just...

It's why, you know?

Come on, Bill, maybe she is being
excessive on the kid and the mother side.

But how can you discount that?

What, you mean that stuff
from Massude's brother?

Is that what you're talking about?

We're into dozens
of randomly associated cells.

Massude's a gold mine.

I spoke to Massude's brother.

I talked to the guy
and with our interrogators over there.

He's a petty thief.

He sells fake Cartier watches
out of the souks in Damascus.

And by now he's probably coughed up
the names of every person

that he's ever known
since he was six years old.

Which, think about this,
explains why we have no linkage

between the terrorist side
and the Farmer family.

No, I disagree.

Six degrees of separation, Tina.
Think about it.

Given enough time, RIPLEY is gonna tie

half the goddamn civilized world
to this thing.

What are you saying, Bill?
What do you want us to do?

TINA: You want us to stop?
That's probably a treasonable offense.

Let's... We could send her
on a wild goose chase.

A smoke screen.
Something to slow her down.

I can hear what you're saying, Bill.

But you don't mess with RIPLEY.

- She messes with you.
- Yeah.

RIPLEY: Moving satellite search
to sector Alpha 43.

(ROCKMUSIC PLA YING)

Satellites, heat signatures.

Does it work?

They haven't nabbed me yet.

(SIGHS)

My youngest child, Joshua, loved bears.

His favorite. Called him Max.

- You mind if I ask you something?
- Shoot.

Does your wife know you're alive?

Or does she really think
you killed yourself?

She knew I was sick,
so probably made some sense,

me not wanting to drag them through it.

- You're sick?
- Pancreatic cancer.

It's nasty. At least it's quick.

I was part of RIPLEY's design team.
That makes me a threat.

My family's safety,
I couldn't let them threaten that.

It's probably better this way.

I lost my dad when I was seven.

But I still think about him all the time.

I know your kids
are probably grown up by now.

But it seems a shame to deprive them
of even a little more time.

(POLICE SIRENS WAILING)

I thought you said
they wouldn't be looking for us.

Glove compartment, two passports.
One for you, one for Annie.

I photoshopped in your IDs.

- Do either of you speak French?
- I do.

A little.

Pretend to be asleep.
If they try to search the vehicle,

wake up and mumble something
about having to go to the bathroom.

- You just play dead.
- What if it doesn't work?

Then they'll save you the trouble
of having to pretend.

RIPLEY: Enlarging Massude/Farmer matrix.

(SIGHS)

Hey, why are you here?

- I'm not.
- Okay.

Are we where we're supposed to be?

It's a funnel.
Rarely used as a murder weapon.

There's a thermos and sandwiches
in the cab.

Good Vermont cheddar.

Once we fill up,
we won't be stopping again.

Too dangerous.

What happened to your dad?

He was a computer guy,
worked for MCI and lived in Virginia.

Y2K rapid deployment.

He used to have all kinds of cool gear.

He used to let me play with it.

Anyway, he was off on a big job in Europe.

Picked up some weird bug.
The infection went straight to his heart.

One day we were laughing about how
much snot he could blow out his nose,

then he wasn't there anymore.

(SIGHS)

Funny thing.

Mom was always the one
that had problems with infections.

He was afraid she'd pick up
something at work.

That's what they told you?

Your dad worked at MCI?

Technically, that's true. But it wasn't Y2K.

The travel was in Bosnia
for the government.

I knew about your dad
when I was teaching at MIT.

He was a student there.

Later, he became
a communications liaison for the military.

He believed it was
an important humanitarian mission,

and he wanted to help.

Because of his specialized knowledge
of early GSM networks,

he was sent to track down F-16 pilots.

There were unspeakable atrocities,

rumors of biological weapons.

Your dad may have been a victim.

Shouldn't they have warned him?

Or at least tried to help?

Exactly the sentiments
your mother expressed,

which made her very unpopular
with certain government agencies.

I think you begin to see why RIPLEY
is so interested in you both.

It's not right.

It's no matter.

Your dad was a hero, Will.

You must never forget that.

NEWMAN: Was the decon system alerted?

What I don't get is why RIPLEY
won't share information with us.

BILL: She's a computer. Her primary job is
to identify and kill terrorists.

Anyone who compromises that objective
is expendable.

And loser buys breakfast.

- I think I got you.
- Hey!

It goes to show you, beauty before age.

(THUDDING)

BILL: Newman!

No.

No network.

- Does he know you're coming?
- Who?

The guy who's gonna help us beat RIPLEY.

Oh, God! Dr. Falken. Falken.

- Pills.
- Okay.

- Right here?
- Two.

- Okay, here you go.
- All right.

Two. All right?

- All right.
- Okay.

All right.

(BREATHES HEAVILY)

WILL: All right.

Are you gonna be okay, Dr. Falken?

Stephen, please.

You two are now all the family I have.

Hey. Hey, in there.

Hey!

Don't bother with that.
There's nothing to sight on.

You don't like to knock?

(MACHINES BUZZING)

FALKEN: I sent you several text messages.
Didn't you get that?

It's broken. You fix.

That's who's gonna help us defeat RIPLEY?

Oh, dear God, no, not him.

Him.

That's Joshua.

Wow! It's old.

In his day, he was miles ahead
of the curve.

They sent us both out to pasture
at the same time.

I had him quietly shipped out of state,
and then here to run a power grid.

Amazingly, no one cared.

That piece of shit can do nothing right.

(STUTTERING) He's slow.
I can beat it at chess.

- ANNIE: Are you Russian?
- I used to be in Soviet space program.

But Soviet space program
not what it used to be.

You like vodka?

You've been doing a lot more than just
playing chess and running the grid.

I do a little phishing after hours.

That piece of shit can barely manage
simple job like credit card fraud.

Maybe you don't know
how to handle a sensitive one like this.

I treat it too good.

WILL: Wow.

Atta boy, Joshua.

Time to wake up.

JOSHUA: Greetings, Professor Falken.

Shall we play a game?

Yes, Joshua, many, many games.

RIPLEY: Bioterror threat level...

Are you really suggesting
RIPLEY tried to kill you? That's absurd.

No, no, I'll tell you what's absurd.

That a kid is fighting for his life
in hospital right now

because of your goddamn arrogance!

- That's what's absurd.
- TINA: Excuse me, sir.

- I just spoke with the surgical team.
- And?

Newman's vitals are stable,
but he hasn't regained consciousness.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

That's Cavanaugh.

He's on me, wanting to know why we
still haven't released the Farmer woman

now that her condition's
been downgraded.

How could he know that?

Someone hacked into the system
and circulated her file.

Someone? No prizes for guessing who.

Will somebody please explain to me
how, with a $300 million budget,

we can't manage to find
one high school kid and his girlfriend?

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

And that would be the CDC.

CDC, FBI, DHS, CIA, I've got the whole
damn alphabet on my ass,

demanding that we shut
this operation down.

Is that something you're considering?

I can't.
Another tip from Massude's brother.

Our Afghan special-ops team
found a bio-weapon prototype.

Three of the compounds in common
with the Farmer samples.

Evidence points to a sleeper cell in Philly.

RIPLEY: Bioterror threat level 4.

Commencing pre-decontamination
procedure.

(ALARMS BUZZING)

Initiating decontamination countdown.

I'm sorry, Mr. Hassert.
I've got the CDC, Homeland

and the joint chiefs for you on speaker 10.

Decontamination countdown
beginning now.

Never seen that countdown before.
What happens at zero?

You don't wanna know.

Turn the bitch off.

- We can't.
- What do you mean, you can't?

RIPLEY has control. The system's
impervious to human interference.

That was the point.

Edwards Air Force Base just came online.

RIPLEY's taken control
of one of their Predators.

It was stationed over Afghanistan,
fully armed and fuelled.

Nukes?

Smart bomb
with multiple, low-yield warheads.

Well, say halleluiah, Hassert.

If that baby hits U.S. Airspace,
it's gonna be a white damn Christmas.

How long is it gonna...

Okay, Joshua, have fun.

JOSHUA: Beginning power reroute now.

Can Joshua defeat RIPLEY's protocol
in Philadelphia?

Given enough time,
that's what I designed him to do.

Checks and balances.

Work in tandem with RIPLEY,
not against her.

Bipartisanship. And we know
how that ended up.

RIPLEY: Intrusion detected.

Gaming scenarios detected.

Initiating response.

- Mr. Hassert.
- We've got something here.

RIPLEY: Locating opponent.

I'll be damned.

War Operation Plan Response. WOPR.

What the hell is going on?

Somebody's playing games.

People?

RIPLEY: Locating opponent.

Predator deployed.

Predator target confirmed.

ETA, two minutes.

No, leave 'em alone.

What the hell are you talking about?

Joshua.

Atta boy, Joshua. Good work.

JOSHUA: Thank you, Professor.

I programed you to operate
at a reduced level.

It was important to conceal your identity.

There are those who would wish
to do harm to you and us.

Are you referring to the current operation

seeking to apprehend
you and your friends?

Wait. RIPLEY knows we're here?

Yes, that is why she requests
that I deliver a message.

She wants you to leave.

It is your only hope for survival.

Why is that?

Because this game is lost.

RIPLEY: ETA, one minute.

Joshua, how does this game end?

Obliteration.

(RUMBLING)

Get out! Get out now!

RIPLEY: ETA, 30 seconds.

Strike team dispatch.

Professor Falken!

- No! No!
- Annie!

Goodbye, Joshua.

MAN: Stay on the ground.

WOMAN ON TV: Massive unrest
in Philadelphia due to the power outages,

the city of brotherly love
has become chaotic.

RIPLEY: Decontamination in 53 minutes.

Calculated morbidity, 50%.

Collateral damage acceptable.

WILL: Oh, my God,
what are you people doing?

Leave the Russian with me.

- Will!
- Those decon systems,

do they follow the same protocols
as the game I played?

Are you guys listening to me?

Falken's Joshua computer.

How was it configured to stop RIPLEY?

It's garbage. It couldn't stop traffic.

(DOOR SHUTS)

"Decon" as in decontamination?

It's an automated aerial extermination.

It said that morbidity was 50%.

Half the city is going to die, Will.

Our families are there.
We have to stop them.

I know. Tell me if you hear anyone coming.

Okay, what are you doing?

(CHA TTERING ON SCREEN)

Jay, you know what? You're off the team.

You're off the team.
Look, I'm shooting you in the leg.

That's what you get.
That's exactly what you get...

- Dennis. Dennis.
- Will?

- Will, is that you?
- Yeah, it's me.

- Dude, how did you...
- Listen, we need help.

You're out of the city?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. The feds tipped us off.
I'm at my aunt's house in Cleveland.

Okay. I want to hack
RIPLEY's gamebot network.

If we can run all the players in her files
through you,

are you up to launching a DDOS attack?

Yeah, damn straight, dude.
Who are you talking to here?

Of course, she might get pissed, though.

I mean, I've been seeing
what she's doing to Philly.

We do it right, she won't have time.

Then I'm down, baby. I'm subterranean.

Good.

Hey, you gonna be okay?
You don't sound too good.

We'll see.

Right now, I've got to figure out a way
to get all the IP addresses

of everyone who has ever played RIPLEY.

No problem.

- How long have you been there?
- Long enough.

Just give me a few minutes.

See you in the basement.

Look, that guy.
He opened up the database.

- How did he do that?
- ANNIE: All these people played RIPLEY?

- Over 400,000.
- Busy girl.

HASSERT: Let's begin again, shall we?

Let's talk of microchips. I have a buyer.
We could make wonderful business.

- And I could have you arrested.
- I am arrested.

So you are. Get him out of here.

RIPLEY: Decontamination in 48 minutes.

ANNIE: How's this gonna work?

When you log on to RIPLEY,
she puts a bug in your system.

If everyone can log on at the same time,

and tie up her servers with
renegade zombie computers,

she might loosen her grip on the city.

RIPLEY: Intruder alert. Intruder alert.

Decontamination in 47 minutes.

Initiating response.

Mr. Hassert, RIPLEY just let go
of six blocks in downtown Philly.

Make that eight blocks, sir. 10 blocks, sir.

Get the kid in here.
He's clearly onto something.

He set this up.
The son of a bitch set us up.

No, I'm trying to help. I'm trying to fix this.
Where are we going?

ANNIE: Let me go.

If RIPLEY gives us an opening, we gotta
mobilize against those decon units.

- I want them taken out.
- BILL: Lf.

- Sorry.
- Lf she gives us an opening.

That's a damn big "if."

Have a seat, Will.
We like what you're doing.

- That's why you let me keep the backpack.
- Correct.

RIPLEY: Decontamination in 45 minutes.

Responding to intrusion.
Gaming protocol alert.

Emergency override.

She's cut us off.

WILL: Damn, we need help to overload her.

She's too powerful.
We gotta get more players in there.

Can you give me a prompt
on RIPLEY's screen?

We tried a million ways,
and she won't respond.

Decontamination in 44 minutes.

We're not trying to talk to her.

That's why the professor went back inside.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Is this glass bullet-proof?

- That's pure steel, two inches...
- I know.

If we can raise her temperature,
we might force a prompt.

Try.

RIPLEY: Morbidity rate recalculated to 58%.

Collateral damage acceptable.

If you fire into that mainframe,

RIPLEY will think she's being attacked,
and start launching missiles.

- Not if I just break the glass.
- I'm not gonna risk a nuclear attack.

Step aside, Ken. I swear to God,
I'll blow that 40 grand

worth of cosmetic surgery right off
your smug goddamn face.

Go ahead, shoot me.
But I'm not gonna move.

WILL: I've got a prompt.

Go ahead, Will.

Decontamination in 40 minutes.

Come on.

He's gotta be in there. He's gotta be.

Try... No, try Max.
Joshua's little teddy, remember?

JOSHUA: Greetings, Professor Falken.

Yes.

- Joshua?
- Yeah, the professor saved him.

Sent him like e-mail.

Professor isn't with us, Joshua.

But I know that
he would want you to help.

JOSHUA: Perhaps a game?

Yes.

RIPLEY: Decontamination in 37 minutes.

Shit, she's not even slowing down.

We should bump the money
in the honeypot games.

We need traffic,
give the winner $1,000,000.

- A million?
- Not a wager. A prize.

Beat the computer, win $1,000,000.

Make it 100 million.
We're not playing for second.

RIPLEY: Intrusion detected.

Gaming protocol alert.

Yes!

Come on. Come on. Come on.

RIPLEY: Gaming systems overload alert.

JOSHUA: Power successfully rerouted.

RIPLEY: Decontamination in 20 minutes.

Decontamination halted.

All systems restored.

- Yes!
- Yes!

(ALL CHEERING)

(BUZZING)

Wait. Wait. Wait a minute. Hold it.

There's still something wrong here.

- JOSHUA: Professor Falken.
- We hear you, Joshua.

What's happening? What's RIPLEY doing?

JOSHUA: Partitioning. Shutting down.

Shutting down?
That's good, that's what we want, isn't it?

She's not just admitting defeat.
RIPLEY's self-destructing.

She ran a self-check, discovered Joshua.
She's treating him like a virus.

Now, as he tries to migrate
through her system to survive,

she has to cannibalize herself
to get to him.

RIPLEY can't self-destruct.
That's a direct violation of her program.

- Technically, yes.
- So what's the problem?

RIPLEY: Mission redirected.

Destination, Washington D.C.

Target ETA, 17 minutes.

Morbidity rate, 100%.

You realize that if RIPLEY's destroyed,
it automatically triggers a response.

- Nuclear?
- Depending on the incoming vector.

Radar'll trace that baby
right back to Afghanistan.

There is a genius subculture
of chess fanatics who play to lose.

They call it suicide chess.

You force your opponent
to take your pieces

before he can do the same to you.

So whoever loses wins.

- Lf we can teach RIPLEY that...
- Yes.

Joshua, I'm going to teach you
to play a new game.

What are you doing?

Teaching Joshua to play Russian roulette.

Are you serious?

If Joshua plays with live missiles,

RIPLEY will have to play
out the wargame scenario.

Each event will end in total annihilation,

which is a direct contradiction
to her programming.

- And what then?
- It'll force her hand.

She either backs off
or starts World War III.

Hopefully, she'll see that
by playing to win, she loses.

Fifteen minutes before
the Predator hits D.C.

For this to be a real threat,
I can't tell Joshua not to launch.

JOSHUA: Confirm codes?

Do it.

JOSHUA: Codes accepted.

There's 36,000 nuclear missiles out there,
6,000 of which are armed and ready to fire.

That's a 1-in-6 chance
of having a freaking nuclear warhead.

- How do you know that?
- Video games.

JOSHUA: Launching Wargames.

RIPLEY: Opponent engaged.

JOSHUA: Scenario selected.

Target, Pyongyang, North Korea.

RIPLEY: Game clock set.

Does RIPLEY know Joshua
won't actually launch?

Last chance to see.

JOSHUA: Mission authorized.

RIPLEY: Game clock running.

Defcon one. Retaliation required.

JOSHUA: Escalation selected.

Projected result, total annihilation.

RIPLEY: Weapon not available.

Game clock set.

JOSHUA: Scenario selected.

Target, Tehran, Iran.

Can he at least pick a target
that won't destroy the entire world?

JOSHUA: Mission authorized.

RIPLEY: Game clock running.

Defcon one. Retaliation required.

JOSHUA: Escalation selected.

Projected result, total annihilation.

RIPLEY: Weapon, not available.

Game clock set.

JOSHUA: Scenario selected.

Target, Washington, D.C.

Oh, my God, that's us.

Mission authorized.

She'd better get it right.

RIPLEY: Game clock running.

Defcon one. Retaliation required.

JOSHUA: Escalation selected.

- You know, you never told me.
- What?

About the glass?
Is it half empty or half full?

Neither, it's just the wrong size.

JOSHUA: Projected result,
total annihilation.

RIPLEY: Weapon available.

Weapon available.

JOSHUA: Target acquired.

RIPLEY: Weapon available.

Weapon available.

JOSHUA: Launch code accepted.

RIPLEY: Weapon available.

Launching in five, four, three, two, one...

JOSHUA: Are we still playing?

RIPLEY: A strange game.

The only winning move is not to play.

WILL: Thank you, Joshua.

Thank you, Will Farmer.

Joshua,

would you have launched
if RIPLEY hadn't stopped you?

Yes, the human race is finished.

That was humor.

(JOSHUA LAUGHING)

We're safe here tonight

Like stars in the sky

The world's asleep around us

The starlight still surrounds us

As we kiss tonight

I'll hold your hand in mine

We've made it through
these darkened days

And nothing else can break it
'cause we've tried

So hard

We're waking up the satellite

And all the stars that shine so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine

Just go

There's nothing left to say

As they're looking through the window

While everyone is sleeping in their beds

We'll go where no one else can find

The spaces where we're hiding from

Yeah, you're still safe beside me

And we've tried so hard

We're waking up the satellite

And all the stars that shine so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine

Just waking from sleeping

I'll try to play it safe

If you take my song

Starting over

Satellite

And all the stars that shine so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine

We're waking up the satellite

And all the stars that shine so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine

We're waking up the satellite

Stars so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine

Satellite

Stars so bright

With all of this around you,
all of this around you

Still be mine