Original subtitles

Hey! Whoa! Yo! False alarm! Hold it!

It's okay! I'm here. Here we are! It's all right.

Set it down nice and easy, huh?

- Yeah, sure. At the impound. Next time read the sign. - Aw, you don't understand.

Look, I'm just here to meet my wife's plane. You gotta let me have this car.

Yeah, sure. Tomorrow, 8:00 to 4:00. You pay 40 bucks, we give it back.

Don't write it up! Don't write it up! Come on, man.

This is my mother-in-law's car, all right?

She's already mad at me 'cause I'm not a dentist.

Look, I'm a cop - L.A.P.D. How about a little team spirit, huh?

Oh, I was in L.A. once. Hated it.

Well, I can understand. I don't like it much myself. Hey!

- That's a plastic fender up there! Take it easy! - Back off!

- I'm doin' my job! - Cut me some slack, will you?

Look, I used to be a cop in New York City.

I only moved to L.A. 'cause my wife took a job there. Come on. What do you say?

Here we are. Washington, D.C., the heart of democracy.

One hand washes the other. Come on, man. It's Christmas.

So ask Santa Claus to give you another car. Merry Christmas, pal.

- It's all yours, Murray. - You got it, Vito!

- Son of a bitch. - Taxi!

- Merry Christmas! - Excuse me. Excuse me.

Yeah, I know that, Larry.

Snow flurries along the north eastern seaboard -

- Hi. Where are the telephones? - Right over there.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you, Fred. Leonard Adkins is in a warmer clime...

with a story that grows hotter by the minute.

Security was tight today at Escalon Airport in the Republic of Val Verde...

where government authorities report that deposed general Ramon Esperanza...

will be delivered for immediate extradition to the United States.

Only two years ago, General Esperanza...

led his country's army in a campaign against communist insurgents-

a campaign fought with American money and advisers.

Esperanza's fall from power caused ripples...

not only in his country's recent election...

but closer to home as well...

when high-ranking Pentagon officials were charged...

with supplying him with weapons despite the congressional ban.

But mounting evidence that Esperanza's forces...

violated the neutrality of neighboring countries...

made Congress withhold funds -

funds which Esperanza is accused of replacing...

by going into the lucrative business of cocaine smuggling.

Although Esperanza was removed...

as commander in chief earlier this year...

the agreement to extradite him was not reached until yesterday.

And Washington insiders say it was a phone call that made it happen -

a phone call from a -

All right. All right.

If I could find a phone, I'd call you, whoever you are.

Bye.

Excuse me. Thank you.

Is Henry there? Hello?

Yeah, this is Lieutenant McClane. Somebody there just beep me?

- I'd like to think I'm somebody. - Honey!

What are you doin'? Where are you? Did you land yet?

Honey, it's the '90s, remember?

Microchips, microwaves, faxes, air phones.

Yeah, well, as far as I'm concerned...

progress peaked with frozen pizza.

Listen, um, we're gonna be about half an hour late landing, okay?

I just wanted to let you know. The kids okay?

Well, they're about to lose their minds from all the sugar your parents are givin' 'em.

Did Mom give you a hard time about borrowing her new car?

No. Not yet.

Listen, honey, when you land, can we - can we just, like...

you know, rent a car, check into a hotel?

We'll leave the kids with your parents...

order some room service, a bottle of champagne.

- What do you say? - You're on, Lieutenant.

I'll see you in about a half an hour, honey.

I love you. Bye.

Isn't technology wonderful?

- My husband doesn't think so. - Well, I do.

I used to carry around those awful Mace things.

Now...

I zap any bastard that screws with me.

I tried it on my little dog.

Poor thing limped for a week.

Excuse me.

Boy, you look really familiar to me.

I get that a lot. I've been on TV.

Yeah. Me too.

- Grab the tools, will you? - You got it.

This is Amy Nichole reporting live from Escalon Airport...

where deposed general Ramon Esperanza...

has just arrived under heavy guard.

Strangely, the deposed dictator's mood seems jubilant.

He is smiling and waving to the crowd...

like a man running for political office.

...thousands of political prisoners in the past decade...

including the new president...

and there's no doubt that he still has some ardent supporters both here and abroad.

Rumors abound on Capitol Hill that there were other -

- Yeah? - Sorry to bother you, sir.

We're checking our equipment. Any problems with the conduit line in your backyard?

Gee, I don't know anything about that.

Would you mind if we take a look?

Help yourself.

It just don't seem right somehow - closing down this church.

Oh, I know the parish is gonna keep on usin' it, but it won't be the same.

Been here a lot of years, and I've been right here with it.

Yeah, I kind of feel like a piece of me is dying along with this church.

Well, you're right about that.

...cocaine smuggling, racketeering and bribing government officials.

He certainly doesn't show it...

but no matter how high his spirits...

they can't hide the fact that America's war on drugs...

has finally taken its first prisoner.

This is Buckwheat. The clubhouse is open.

Here at Dulles, the quiet men from the Justice Department...

wait to hand-cuff the man who has come to symbolize the enemy...

in America's fight against cocaine.

That battle may be almost won, but the war is still in doubt.

Samantha Coleman, WNTW, for Night-Time News.

Roger that, Colonel. Out.

That was the colonel.

Everyone's in position. How's the weather?

We got flurries all along the Virginia coast.

New storm front coming in from the north east.

- God loves the infantry. - Amen.

Carry out your assignments.

15:51. Mark.

Check.

- Later. - Adios, man.

- At 16:30 we'll start. - Hey, it's cold out there, man!

- I stomped my feet for five minutes. - Yeah, yeah.

Two cappuccinos. Make it fast.

- Uh, scotch, straight up, please. - Excuse me, Officers.

This may sound like a wild-goose chase, but I think I just saw -

Saw what?

Elvis. Elvis Presley.

- Fuckin' tourists. Ought to be a law. - Can I get you something else?

Excuse me. There's a large number of you from the Justice Department here this evening.

- Is there any particular reason for that? - Just routine.

- Just routine? - Yes.

- Any comment, sir? - Uh, no. Not right now. Thank you.

Thank you, sir. Thanks.

- Hmm? - Hey, that's Colonel Stuart over there.

Got a little problem with personnel.

Last-minute replacement.

How's the security around this place?

Just like we figured. It's a joke.

Colonel Stuart, could we have a few words, please?

You can have two - "fuck" and "you."

No pictures, you pinko bitch.

Old news.

Oh! Damn it!

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Excuse me.

- What's your hurry? - Thank you.

Hey, man.

- What is it? - You got a key for this door?

Yeah. Why?

'Cause I want you to open it up. That's why.

- Is there a cop on duty around here? - The airport police.

Go get 'em.

Hand me the wrench, will ya?

- Who made you foreman? - Next you're gonna want overtime.

Good idea.

Okay, hold that end.

Watch it, man.

All right. Perfect. Perfect. good to go.

Hey!

It's a restricted area. What's the matter?

- Couldn't wait for the skycap? - We work here.

Let's see some l.D.

- Sure. No problem. - No problem.

Take him!

Ow! Jesus H. Fuck!

What is this, a tag team?

You say he came in here and flashed a badge?

- Yeah. He said to bring you guys back here. - Shit.

Christ.

Fucker!

Freeze!

Nice guess, asshole. I'm a cop. That was the bad guy.

Where's your I.D.?

On its way to Cleveland?

No, you did not explain anything.

All you did was shove me back here into this cattle car.

Sir, you were told when you boarded that we were overbooked.

Fine. Done. I accept that. But why in hell can't I get...

the first-class meal my network paid for?

- Do you know who I am? - Yes. We've all seen your program.

Your episode "Flying Junkyards" was a very objective look at air traffic safety.

It wasn't nearly as edifying as "Bimbos of the Sky," was it, Connie?

You think you're funny. You think you're funny.

Fine. I've got your number.

And I've got yours. So park it, sir.

Fine.

- Stewardess. - Mr. Thornberg, you cannot monopolize my time.

- You cannot put me near that woman. - Excuse me?

He means he's filed a restraining order against me.

I'm not allowed within 50 feet of him.

Fifty yards.

So by keeping me in this section, you are violating a court order.

I can sue you and this airline.

That woman assaulted me...

and she humiliated me in public.

What did you do?

Knocked out two of his teeth.

Would you like some champagne?

Sorry, Officer McClane. I had to check.

Here's your piece and shield back.

Thanks.

Hey, over here, Officer! We understand that there was shooting.

...the presence of Justice Department officials-

- Jesus! Oh, Christ! - Hey, come on. Just a word, okay?

What the fuck are you people - What are you doing here, man?

This is a crime scene. You gotta seal this area off, for Christ's sake.

- That's up to the captain. - Oh, it's up to the captain?

Maybe you better take me up to the captain then, huh?

- Where's Cochrane? - He didn't make it.

Oh, man.

You're late.

We ran into trouble, Colonel.

Some cop. He killed Cochrane.

I barely got away, sir.

Did you accomplish your mission?

Yes, sir, but... Cochrane, sir.

Well, then the damage is minimal. The penalty could be severe.

You fail me again, and the chamber won't be empty.

Dismissed.

Miss. Miss. I can't find my dog.

- Miss. My dog. - One minute, ma'am.

I want you to fill out this form.

My passport was in it. Yes.

Who is it? Come in.

- Captain Lorenzo? - Yeah.

- I'm John McClane - - Yeah, yeah. I know who you are.

You're the asshole that just broke seven F.A.A...

and five District of Columbia regulations...

running around my airport with a gun, shooting at people.

- What do you call that shit? - Self-defense.

Well, what, you think that L.A. badge is gonna get you...

a free lunch or somethin' around here?

No. Maybe a little professional courtesy.

In an airport on Christmas week?

- You gotta be kiddin'. - Okay. Fuck courtesy.

How about just being professional?

Your boys just walked away from a crime scene, Captain.

You can't wrap this thing up in 10 minutes, and you know it.

You gotta seal the area off, take pictures, dust for prints.

Hey, don't lecture me, hotshot.

I know what I'm doing. We're gonna dust it down.

We'll take all the pictures. We'll, uh, sweep for fibers.

When are you gonna do this? After three or four hundred more people go through there?

You'd be lucky to get a print from one of your own people. Just shut down that area and -

Oh, just shut the area down? It's that simple, huh? Just shut the area down?

Yeah, and I got everybody from the Shriners convention...

to the goddamn Boy Scouts traipsing through here!

I got lost kids, lost dogs -

Not now! Later! I got international diplomats.

I got a fuckin' reindeer flying in here from the fuckin' petting zoo!

But John McClane - he's got a little problem.

Hell, let's shut down the whole fuckin' airport!

What do you think they're gonna say upstairs when I tell them that?

Why don't you pick up the phone and find out?

Because I don't need full fuckin' forensics to tell me...

all this was, was some punk stealin' luggage!

Luggage? That punk pulled a Glock 7 on me. You know what that is?

It's a porcelain gun made in Germany. It doesn't show up on your airport x-ray machines...

and it costs more than you make in a month.

You'd be surprised what I make in a month.

- If it's more than $1.98, I'd be very surprised. - Hey, McClane...

don't start believin' your own press, huh?

Yeah, yeah, I know all about you and that Nakatomi thing in L.A.

But just 'cause the TV thinks you're hot shit, that don't make it so.

Look, you are in my little pond now...

and I am the big fish that runs it.

So you capped some lowlife. Fine.

I'll send your fuckin' captain in L.A. a fuckin' commendation!

In the meantime, you get the hell out of my office...

before I have you thrown out of my goddamn airport!

Hey, Carmine, let me ask you something.

What sets off the metal detectors first?

The lead in your ass or the shit in your brains?

Fat fuck.

Any I.D. on this guy?

That's somebody else's problem. Wait here.

- Okay, your car's ready. If you'd just sign right here - - Hi.

- Hi. - I need to borrow this and this.

- I'll bring it right back. - Hey!

Hey! Yo! Hold up!

Yo!

Hold up, boys. Hold up. Hold up.

- We gotta check something. - What are you doing?

Pretty gruesome fuckin' job.

In all the confusion in there, we forgot to get this clown's prints.

Believe that?

- Ew! Christ. - Hey, you're supposed to do that at the morgue.

Not anymore. Got a new S.O.P. for D.O.A.'s from the F.A.A.

I don't think this one's gonna make it, boys.

Thanks a lot.

Powell here.

Take that Twinkie out of your mouth and grab a pencil, will ya?

Hey, John. How you doin'?

Holly stood me up a day, and I'm here alone in D.C. with my in-laws.

Ah, the old in-laws, huh?

Man, they do love their policemen son-in-laws, don't they?

Listen, Al, what is the fax machine telephone number there at the station?

Uh, let's see.

555-3212.

3212. Hold on a second, all right?

I wanna send you something here. Excuse me.

You and faxes? This is a first.

Yeah, well, Holly told me I should wake up and smell the '90s.

- This way? - No. That way.

- Wait. It's upside down. - It doesn't matter.

Okay. Here it comes.

I'm sending you something right now.

Hold on a second, cowboy.

Fingerprints?

Got an unidentified stiff here.

I've circled the whorls in pen in case the transmission's a little fuzzy.

Listen, run it through state and federal, and if you can, run it through Interpol.

Will do. Well, what's this about?

Oh, just a feeling I have.

Ouch. When you get those feelings, insurance companies start to go bankrupt.

Listen, the, uh, fax number is-

Is on the top edge of the transmission he just got.

Is on the top edge of the transmission you just got.

Oh, an airport, huh?

Listen, you're not pissing in somebody's pool, are you?

Yeah. And I'm fresh out of chlorine.

Just as this storm starts breakin'...

the satellite feed up and drops the other shoe on us.

Look at this new front movin' in.

Makes its baby brother look like chickenshit.

Well, I can sand down all the runways...

and keep the plows going between landings...

but you gotta downshift them up there, give me time to work.

You got it. All right, everyone.

Let's call all our birds and slow 'em down...

before we get a parking lot over our heads.

The line starts at the Mississippi...

and they better start takin' numbers.

Can I get you another?

No, thank you.

I only have to look at his face for another 15 or 20 minutes.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking.

I've just been informed by Dulles Traffic Control...

that there's a weather front moving in ahead of us.

We may be up here a little while longer.

Thank you.

On second thought -

Al?

Hey, I'm right here, partner.

Your stiff's dossier is coming through right now.

What can you tell me about him?

- He's dead. - You needed a computer to figure that one out?

No, no, no, no. You don't follow me.

According to the Department of Defense, he's been dead for two years.

- What? - That's right. "Sergeant Oswald Cochrane.

American adviser in Honduras. Killed in a helicopter accident 5-11-88."

Officer?

Read between the lines, and I'd say it looks like a lot of black-bag stuff to me.

Yeah, I see it. All right, Al. Thanks a lot.

- Hey, anytime. - Okay.

Say, I close in about an hour.

Maybe we can go get a drink?

Just the fax, ma'am. Just the fax.

Sam, if you're desperate, get some airport personnel...

- man-on-the-street stuff. - Hey, wait a second.

L see somebody. I'll call you back, okay? Hold on.

I'll call you from London. Bye.

The Ghost of Christmas Past.

Nakatomi? L.A.? You're John McClane, right?

- Who are you? - Sam Coleman. WNTW News.

- Excuse me. - Hey, come on.

Give me a break. I saw the stiff.

Word is, that was your handiwork.

No. I only do needle-point.

Great. National just shut down. Totally iced.

- They're gonna be sending us their planes. - Happy, happy holidays.

The worst part, Mr. Trudeau, was the press.

Oh, they were here anyways, crawlin' all over the Esperanza story...

so they got it right on the fuckin' news.

You know, bloodstains and all.

Personally, I'd like to lock every damn reporter out of the airport...

but then they'd just pull that freedom-of-speech crap on us.

Then the A.C.L.U. would be all over us.

Murder on television.

Hell of a start for Christmas week.

What is it? A gang thing like last time?

Only if your gangs get their training at Fort Bragg.

- Who the hell is this? - Uh-uh, McClane.

- I'm a police officer. - In an unauthorized area.

L.A., Mr. Trudeau, don't mean shit.

Yeah? That's what I said about my last cholesterol test.

So what's your problem, Lieutenant McClane?

I'm sure Captain Lorenzo has explained to you...

the minor little fracas with the minor little thieves.

Maybe he can explain this.

- All systems tapped, Colonel. - Fire it up.

"H" minus five minutes.

Stand by.

All right. We've got a body in the morgue that seems to have died twice.

Assuming it's not a computer error, what do we assume?

That somebody's about to seriously fuck with this airport.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I mean, I know we're dummies up here, McClane...

so give us a taste of your brilliant genius.

- I mean, you're talkin' about a hijacking, a robbery or what? - Look, I'm not sure.

Oh, he's not sure. Well, I'm stunned. I gotta lie down.

The only people that go to this much trouble are professionals...

- not luggage thieves and not punks. - Professional at what?

What the fuck do you think this is, huh? The safety patrol here?

This is the résumé of a professional mercenary.

You got the world's biggest drug dealer on his way here. You need a slide rule to figure this out?

Or maybe another body in a zipper bag before you start asking questions?

Hey, pal, you're the one that gave us that fuckin' body. Remember that.

Yeah, I remember that.

Lorenzo, have all your shift commanders report in.

- Now. - What? You're not buyin' into this?

I want them to report anything out of the ordinary, no matter how trivial. You got that?

- Yeah, I got it. - Oh, my God!

What?

- The runways. Look. - Son of a bitch!

- What the hell? - They're shutting down.

Jesus Christ.

Go to emergency lighting now.

Emergency. We are in a code yellow.

- Backup systems won't come up. - Shunt to another terminal.

- Bobby, what do you got? - Nothing. The whole network is down.

Maybe we should call the power company, huh?

We're on the same goddamn grid, and we're hot.

Dulles, what's going on? I'm on approach.

- Maintain position. Repeat. - What's going on down there?

- Roger. We're on it. - Western, we're unable right now. Please delay.

Fuji 604, execute published missed-approach procedure and hold.

T.W.A. 23, unable to clear you for approach at this time.

Climb to and maintain one zero thousand.

I've checked all systems. It ain't happenin'!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you. The problem's all over the airport. No lights.

- What's it look like? - Approach control - it's gone.

Jesus. Instrument landing system is down.

Confirmed. I.L.S. is dead.

Every goddamn system's dead, and NMAC monitors are down.

Attention all controllers. Attention.

We have a code-red alert. Every aircraft approaching our sector...

who are not already in our landing pattern...

gets diverted to their alternate airport now.

Everyone already on approach or inside our pattern...

holds at the outer markers.

Stack 'em, pack 'em and rack 'em. Move.

Get someone on it!

All right. Not a word of this leaves this room.

There must be 15,000 people in this airport...

and we don't need panic on our hands.

We just bought ourselves maybe two hours.

After that, those planes low on fuel aren't gonna be circling.

They're gonna be droppin' on the White House lawn.

McClane, this what you expected?

No.

This is just the beginning.

- F.A.A. hotline. - How could they know already?

They can't.

- Maybe it's the boys that pulled all your plugs. - Put it on speaker.

Attention, Dulles Tower. Attention.

They say that blind men become very attentive by way of compensation.

Now that you're both blind and deaf...

I think I've got your attention.

I'm aware your recorders are active, so I'll be quick.

You can play me back later to your heart's content.

How did you get on this line? Who is this?

Who I am is unimportant. What I want -

Well, if you don't want those planes to start splashing into the Potomac...

as they run out of fuel, what I want is very important.

A plane will be landing at this airport in 58 minutes.

It is FM-1, Foreign Military One.

Now, I'm sure you gentlemen are well aware...

- of the unique nature of this flight... - Esperanza?

And the importance of its cargo.

This plane will not be met by anyone.

It will land on a runway of my designation...

where it will remain isolated and unapproached.

That will conclude my interest in this aircraft and your responsibility for it.

At the same time, I want a 747 cargo conversion...

fully fueled and placed at my disposal.

You have two more minutes to advise...

your inbound aircraft to hold at their outer radio marker.

After that, you will be able to receive only.

Any attempt to restore your systems will be met by severe penalties.

- He's bluffing. - Damn it, you can't do this.

I am doing this.

Okay, you guys, listen up. I need you to punch up a code 15.

I got an idea, and I need your help.

If Esperanza gets on that plane and makes it to a country...

that has no extradition treaties, we're fucked.

They're talking to us on our own goddamn system. They gotta be close.

I'll have my men tear this airport apart.

Just in the nick of time, huh?

Hey, McClane, I got a first-class unit here - SWAT team and all.

- We don't need any Monday-morning quarterbacks. - Fuck Monday morning.

My wife's on one of the goddamn planes these guys are fucking with.

That puts me on the playing field. If you'd have moved your fat ass when I told you to...

we wouldn't be hip deep in shit right now.

- That's it. Security. You're out of here. - Mr. Trudeau -

Mr. Trudeau, do I have to remind you about F.A.A. regulations...

regarding unauthorized personnel in the control tower?

All we have to do is find a way to transmit.

Yeah, right. Somebody wanna run down to Radio Shack and get a transmitter?

We already have one. The new terminal wing they're building -

20 airlines when it's done, all with their own reservation computers...

all tied in to a nice big antenna array.

- Better see Mr. McClane out. - Get your fuckin' hands off me!

- You got no business being up here. - I'm telling you guys.

Everything we need is over by the annex skywalk...

- just sitting there, waiting to go on line. - The annex skywalk?

Goddamn it, Trudeau. You're dealin' with pros here.

You can't fuck with these people! Listen to me!

Sam Coleman, WNTW news. Mr. Trudeau, there are a lot of rumors flying around here today.

No way. No way, lady. Hell, no. No.

This is off limits, Coleman. You know that.

Get them out of here.

Anything you can think of, they'll think of too!

Get your fucking hands off me.

For shit's sake, just get 'em both out of here!

Lobby Security, come in.

- Tomlinson here. - This is Captain Lorenzo here...

with two unauthorized personnel in the fucking tower.

Now, would you get your thumb out of your ass...

get 'em out of the elevator...

or you're gonna find a goddamn pink slip in your Christmas stocking.

10-4. Let's go.

Goddamn!

- Anything who can think of? Can't fuck with what guy? - Shit. Hang on over there.

- What for? - Just hang on.

Big drug dealer on his way to prison, gunfight at airport...

every controller in the coffee shop getting beeped and hauling ass...

and you rocking the boat.

Connection? Come on, McClane. Just a few words.

Okay, just a few words. Fuck off.

Thanks, but I already got that from Colonel Stuart.

Stuart. The guy that got canned by Congress. That's who he was.

- Huh? Who he who? What? Hey! - Shh!

It's okay. I've done this before.

- Hey. - Hi.

- Where's the other one? - Claustrophobic, I guess.

It's a VHF system, but the planes are so close it doesn't matter.

I can rig our frequency in 30 minutes, wire in a crossover, and we're hot.

Even the planes wouldn't know the difference.

Get what you need. Borrow. Steal. Kill.

I want my SWAT team to go with him as cover.

Whatever we can think of, they can think of too.

Oh, man. I can't fuckin' believe this.

Another basement. Another elevator.

How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice?

What the fuck?

Who are you?

I'm Marvin. Marvin. I'm Marvin.

I thought you was tryin' to steal my records, that's all.

I'm just the janitor.

This is Dulles Approach to all aircraft holding at Potomac VORTAC.

We are experiencing some technical problems here.

The weather conditions, which have been deteriorating all day...

have now been complicated by, uh - by an unforeseen human factor.

This has affected all of our electronic equipment...

and their redundant backups as well.

As a result, our nav and approach systems are down...

and we expect to lose voice in another minute.

We want you to continue holding at the outer marker as directed...

and wait for further instructions.

As soon as we're back on line...

we'll expedite your landings on a fuel-emergency basis.

Good luck.

God bless.

All right. Change the boards.

Okay, stand back.

- The skywalk annex. - No, goddamn it. The annex skywalk.

Listen to me. The annex skywalk. It's the last thing I heard before they kicked me out.

Well, let me see here now.

Well, this must be it right there.

See? That's the raised platform, and there's the new terminal.

There's your skywalk.

Goddamn bottleneck. Nice place for an ambush.

What's the fastest way you can get me out to that spot?

This kind of thing wasn't in my job description.

Don't worry, Mr. Barnes. We'll watch your back.

Yeah? Who watches yours?

Main ventilation duct. Main ventilation duct.

And bingo.

Just once, I'd like a regular, normal Christmas.

Eggnog, a fuckin' Christmas tree...

a little turkey.

But no, I gotta crawl around in this motherfucking tin can.

We're in the annex skywalk. I can see the array.

I'll give you a call for a protocol test as soon as it's hot.

That's all for now. Sergeant, we may need some more equipment.

- I'd like to send one of your guys back for it. - Right, sir. You got it.

What the hell's goin' on?

Hey! Put that back on!

Hey, asshole, what do I look like to you?

A sitting duck.

Take him!

Shit!

Damn it. I hate it when I'm right.

Look out! Get down!

Keep your head down!

You son of a bitch!

Stay down!

Fuck!

Motherfucker!

Come on. Come on.

Fucking son of a bitch!

Shit.

Fuck.

I'm gonna kick your fuckin' ass.

- Geez. - You all right?

Yeah. Yeah. But the antenna array - I gotta get to it and set it up.

Get down!

Goddamn.

Bait.

Jerk us off...

make Lorenzo sacrifice his best men.

Make you waste your time -

time we don't have.

I think you're closer than 50 yards.

So's that airplane. Practically.

Yeah. There's quite a few of them out there.

It looks like a regular traffic jam.

There's nothing regular about it.

See? You're intrigued. That's my gift, Mrs. McClane.

I notice things - things other people wouldn't see.

That's how I make people curious.

Don't you mean nauseous?

Look. The people have a right to know everything about everybody.

You got in the way of that.

Listen, buster, you endangered my children...

and you didn't do it for anything as noble as the people.

The only time you even see the people...

is when you look down to see what it is you're stepping on.

Me? Yeah, I'll live...

but Lorenzo's SWAT team is dead...

and the antenna array is-is gone.

Didn't you see it?

I'm tired of looking for a new miracle.

Just hold a minute. No, I'll be right back.

Just hold for a second. Something's going on here.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just hold on for a minute.

I say again, Annex Team, give us a sit rep.

Annex Team, come in. Do you copy?

It's got some kind of scramble on it. Can you do anything with it?

No. This scramble mode must activate on this code panel.

Even if we scan their frequency, we can't listen in.

- These guys are pros. - So are you. Break the code.

I wanna hear what these bastards are sayin' to each other.

This is a 10-digit control panel, six-digit readout.

Hell, that could be a million combinations.

Next time you kill one of these guys...

- get him to enter the code first. - Yeah.

Sir, we just monitored a call from their chief engineer.

Our people took out their SWAT team completely.

You were right. They went for the antenna array. We're right on schedule.

Losing our own team wasn't part of the plan.

Attention, Dulles Tower.

Attention, Dulles Control Tower.

Mr. Trudeau, I know you're listening. Unfortunately, you're not obeying.

Try me face-to-face, and we'll see.

You were warned not to try to restore your systems.

You've wasted lives and precious time on a futile and obvious target.

Now you're gonna pay the penalty.

L got five dead officers down here, Colonel Stuart. Isn't that penalty enough?

McClane, you keep out of this. You've been nothing but a pain -

Oh, McClane. John McClane.

The policeman hero who saved the Nakatomi hostages.

I read about you in People magazine.

You seemed out of your league on Nightline, I thought.

Hey, Colonel, blow me.

How much drug money is Esperanza paying you to turn traitor?

I think Cardinal Richelieu said it best. "Treason is merely a matter of dates."

This country's got to learn that it can't keep cutting the legs off...

of men like General Esperanza...

men who have the guts to stand up against communist aggression.

And lesson one starts with killing policemen?

What's lesson two - the neutron bomb?

No. I think we can find something in between.

Watch this.

Give me a flight number, one that's low on fuel.

Windsor 114. Transatlantic from London.

Fuel tank's dry as a martini.

Activate the I.L.S. landing system, but recalibrate sea level...

minus 200 feet.

Oh, Jesus!

They've reset ground level minus 200 feet.

Windsor Flight 114. This is Dulles Approach. Do you copy?

Dulles Approach, this is Windsor 114. Where the devil have you been?

Windsor 114. Dulles Approach. We've been right here all along, old buddy.

Our systems only came back on line just this very second.

Windsor 114...

you are cleared for I.L.S. approach, runway two-niner.

Contact Dulles Tower frequency at the outer marker.

Jesus Christ! He's gonna crash the fuckin' plane!

Roger, Approach, and about time. I've got 230 people up here flying on petrol fumes.

- Roger, 114. Understand. Calibrate Dulles altimeter... - Oh, Jesus.

- They'll fly right into the concrete. - Son of a bitch!

- Why are they listening to him? - It's our frequency! Why shouldn't they?

- Dulles, this is Windsor 114. - Barnes!

This is Dulles Tower. We have radar contact.

Give me your coat!

What are you gonna do?

Whatever I can.

Ladies and gentlemen...

as you've probably noticed, we've started our descent.

We're sorry for the inconvenience...

but we'll all be on the ground in a few minutes.

- Thank you. - Please keep your seat belts on.

Oh, not to worry. We've made arrangements for your next flight...

- so you won't miss it, okay? - Thank you.

In your seat, please. Come on. In your seat.

Oh, hey. We're just like British Rail, love.

We may be late, but we get you there. Don't worry.

Good luck, McClane!

Dulles, this is Windsor 114, inside the outer marker.

Roger, 114. This is Dulles Tower.

We have radar contact and show you on I.L.S.

You're in the glide path, and you're looking good.

There's somebody out there!

It's McClane. Christ.

- Approach flaps. - Approach flaps.

Approach speed, 140.

- Approach speed, 140. - 130.

130. Altitude 1,000 feet.

800, guys! You're only at 800 feet!

Fire and Rescue, this is Cummings. Roll everything out to runway two-niner!

Ref-speed plus 20. 600 feet.

Looking good, Windsor. Now watch it.

30-knot crosswinds, and the runway is icy.

Attaboy. We've got you.

We've got you.

No! Pull up!

Jesus!

- We're gonna die! - We've got you.

No.

God.

Motherfucker.

Oh, Jesus.

That concludes our object lesson for this evening.

If the 747 we requested is ready on time...

and General Esperanza's plane arrives unmolested...

further lessons can be avoided.

Out.

God.

Come on, you guys!

Hurry! Hurry!

We need a truck over there!

We got no sign of survivors down here! It's a goddamn nightmare!

Hey, Nelson!

Barnes!

We've gotta warn those planes there's a lunatic down here who likes to pretend he's the tower.

- Get up to the cabin. Get me on the air. - How?

- You figure it out! - Here's the manifest.

McClane, I know how you must feel.

L wanted to help those people tonight.

I was pretty goddamn useless.

We called the government for help.

They're gonna send in a special army unit...

a counterterrorist team.

Your wife's plane? Well, they're still broadcasting...

even though we can't answer.

They're gonna run out of fuel in 90 minutes.

Listen, Dick. That is your name - Dick.

If you're going to continue to get this close...

do you think you might consider switching aftershaves?

Anything else?

Stronger mouthwash might be nice.

And here's Sam Coleman reporting live from the site-

Well, Colonel...

they've done everything we've anticipated... so far.

But still there has been no official word from authorities.

Meanwhile, despite the fact that only one runway has been closed due to the tragedy...

several dozen airliners are visible from where I stand, endlessly circling the field.

Other reports say that there was trouble in the tower...

before the crash and that that may have even contributed to it.

One thing is certain - With weather conditions worsening...

the problem here and in the sky above us will continue to grow.

I'm Samantha Coleman at Dulles International Airport.

- Victor. Victor. Victor. - Yeah, what's up?

Did you pack the radio mikes from the shoot...

- or did you put them in your carry-on? - Are you crazy?

- I wouldn't let those assholes check 'em in. - I love you.

Give me one of the receivers.

- Can you tune in to the cockpit frequency? - Yeah. Why?

I wanna hear what's goin' on.

Should be right here on our band.

- Nothing. - You just told me it would work. Is it working or not?

It is working, but it's- All I'm getting is some kind of airport beacon.

It's weird. It's like the tower isn't there.

Stay on it.

Let me know when there is something there.

Okay.

- Major Grant. We're Blue Light. - Rollins, Department of Justice.

Trudeau, chief of air operations.

Lorenzo, terminal police.

You want something, you got it.

This is it? One fucking platoon?

- One crisis, one platoon. Who are you? - John McClane.

- McClane, you showed some balls out there, man. - Yeah.

Now show some good sense. Let the pros handle this.

Well, it looks like the pros are on the wrong team tonight.

Isn't Colonel Stuart one of your men?

No, not anymore he's not. Now we're here to take Colonel Stuart down.

And we will take him down.

You see, I served with him. I taught him everything he knows.

Well, maybe he's learned a few more things since then.

Let's hustle!

Command post will be set up in the airport police station.

I want to be tied in to the tower in 15 minutes.

All right, let's do it!

Hey, Trudeau.

Things just get better or worse?

Lights-big, portable lights.

- We set up the field, and then - - We wait for those lunatics to shoot 'em out?

And where do we get those big, portable lights- borrow them from Batman?

What about the air phone idea?

There's 18 planes up there. Only five of them have those phones.

We got through to three. We're still trying on the others.

That leaves 13 accidents waiting to happen. Are they still bucking headwinds?

I just checked the weather. Headwinds are slamming everybody over the outer marker.

The planes with enough fuel have already been...

shunted to Atlanta, Memphis and Nashville.

Outer marker.

Damn! The outer marker!

It's a beacon, right? A radio beacon that sends out...

this "beep, beep, beep" so they know they're over it, right?

- So? - So who says that radio signal has to just beep?

Right. We switch the frequency from the tower over to the one in the beacon.

- We pump up the wattage. - And we can talk to our planes...

and those bastards who did this will never know!

Traced the signal. Found it in the luggage area.

They've been tapped into your tower chatter all night.

Punks stealin' luggage, huh, Carmine?

- How you doing, Telford? - No good.

I called Langley. They're rigging a portable decoder.

- It'll be here in two hours. - My wife doesn't have two hours.

I was only transferred to Grant's team yesterday.

The regular guy got appendicitis.

- Word is, nobody's better at this than Major Grant. - Attention!

Except maybe Colonel Stuart.

I want to hear about the plane those bastards asked for.

Then I'll fill you in on my orders. Pilots' briefing room. Now.

- Keep working. - Albertson!

- Sir! - With me.

Yes, sir!

No civilians.

What the fuck?

What is it?

The outer marker beeper.

It isn't beeping. It's talking.

Attention all aircraft in Dulles landing pattern.

This is Chief Engineer Leslie Barnes.

I have been authorized to brief you in full.

At this time, this is the only channel available to us.

Here is the situation.

Approximately two hours ago -

Wait till you get a load of this.

Do not accept any instructions claiming to be from our tower...

unless you hear your own flight recorder access code.

- The terrorists have got all our systems... - Holy shit! Get this on tape.

And now have control of everything except this channel.

Give us a second here, please.

This channel is secure, but your own transmissions are not.

Do not, repeat...

do not attempt to reply on your own frequencies to this broadcast.

These people have already caused one crash...

- by impersonating our tower. - Jesus.

Repeat. The terrorists have cut off...

the two systems that can allow you to land -

field lights for a visual landing...

and the I.L.S. for an instrument.

A special U.S. Army unit is already here...

and preparing to take out the terrorists.

- My God. - Don't accept any instructions -

- Yo, Marvin. - Hey, you interested in a nice coat?

No. It never looked good on me anyway. Come here.

Listen, you gotta get me up to the pilots' briefing room. They're havin' a little soiree.

I gotta hear what they're sayin' even if I gotta put a fuckin' glass to the door.

- Which one of these maps gets me in there? - Don't touch it!

- Find the map, Marvin. - I'll find it. You'll mess up my whole damn filing system here.

Let's see. Pilots' briefing room. I think that's in the main terminal.

So would that be under "P" for "pilots' briefing room"?

- Now, Marvin. - Or maybe it would be under "M" for "miscellaneous."

- Oh, shit! - This is Garber. Request permission to reduce...

sentry duty to 30-minute rotation.

My men are getting cold. They're getting antsy. Over.

This is Colonel Stuart. Garber, please have the men not on watch assemble for a briefing. Over.

Roger, Colonel. Over and out.

What's the matter?

Gentlemen, tonight the pattern ends.

The dominoes will fall no more, and the ramparts will remain upright.

- Sir, General Esperanza's plane just came on the scope.

- Tracking. - Attention, Dulles Tower.

We will be lighting up a runway.

Do not, repeat, do not attempt to land any planes.

Remember, we're monitoring you.

- What do we do? - Obey.

Dulles Tower to Foxtrot Michael One.

Dulles Tower to Foxtrot Michael One.

This is Foxtrot Michael One, Dulles. We read you. Over.

Foxtrot Michael One, you are to come in on runway 1-5, repeat, 1-5.

I found it on the floor, by the coat, next to the luggage belt.

What the hell you so excited about that for?

The code's still punched into this one.

You like it, huh? How about you give me 20 bucks for it?

How about I let you live?

Man knows how to bargain.

This is contrary to our instructions.

We are to land at runway 1-0...

where we are to be met by representatives of your Justice De -

Captain, please tell the tower you will proceed as ordered.

Roger, Dulles.

Proceeding to runway 1-5.

Foxtrot Michael One, come in, please.

What are you going to do now?

You going to shoot me? So who will fly the plane?

Don't worry about it. It's not your problem.

Michael One, do you copy?

Foxtrot Michael One, come in, please.

Eagle Nest. This is Falcon. Mayday.

Eagle Nest. This is Falcon. Mayday!

- Go ahead, Falcon. - I've lost cabin pressure. Near zero visibility.

I must drop out of this weather and land now...

on the first accessible runway.

Repeat. I've lost cabin pressure. Near zero visibility.

I must drop out of the storm.

I can land, but I must land now...

on the first outgoing runway.

Repeat. I cannot circle around to runway 1-5.

I'll make you a deal, Marvin.

You show me a shortcut out to those runways...

and I'll get you a liner for that coat.

Repeat. I cannot circle around to runway 1-5.

Shit. Stand by, Falcon.

Here, sir. He's coming in from the ocean, sir.

A bullet has damaged my instruments.

I'm not sure of my bearing...

and I must make a visual landing immediately.

- Do you copy, Eagle Nest? - Roger, Falcon.

- That would be 2-5 right, repeat, 2-5 right. - What?

Make up your fucking mind!

Oh, we are just up to our ass in terrorists again, John.

- 2-5 left. - Affirmative. 2-5 right. Over.

2-5 right.

I gotta quit smoking cigarettes.

Thank you for telling me, Eagle Nest.

But if you could show it to me as well, I would be grateful.

I see the lights.

They are directly in front of me. Gracias, compadre.

Reducing airspeed. Approaching runway.

- Wish me luck. - Roger, Falcon.

We copy. We'll have you in five minutes.

That's right, asshole. We'll have you in five minutes.

I see your lights. E.T.A. 90 seconds.

Come to papa, scumbag.

Oh, shit!

Freedom.

Not yet.

You're supposed to stay in your seat until the plane reaches the terminal.

No frequent-flier mileage for you.

- Who are you? - A cop.

- A cop? - Yeah, one of the good guys. You're one of the bad guys.

And now that I got your sorry ass, I'm gonna trade it for my wife.

Sit down!

- I'm goin' in! - I got you covered.

- Where'd he go? - In there.

I don't believe this. Two months of planning...

and you can't anticipate one pendejo nfa cop.

- Come on, General. - Where the hell is Colonel Stuart?

- General! - I am all right.

He said he was a policeman.

I thought you had this place secured.

He went in the cockpit.

He's goin' to hell! McClane!

I assume it's you, McClane.

You're quite a little soldier.

You can consider this a military funeral!

How many grenades we got?

- Three each! - Use 'em!

Oh, fuck.

Oh! Sh -

Go!

Oh, shit!

You lucky fuck.

- Fire trucks, sir. - Fall back to the church. Now!

Where's the fucking door?

They're getting a little nervous back there. In fact, so am I.

We're right over Washington.

See if you can get any TV. That'll settle 'em down.

Works for me. I'll -

Writing your acceptance speech for the Video Sleaze Awards?

- Try Pulitzer. - Ladies and gentlemen...

while waiting to land, our cabin attendants are turning on local Washington broadcasting.

The sound is on channel three.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Please, sir, we may land at any moment.

- If you'll take your seat - - I'm gonna be sick.

Excuse me. I'm gonna be sick.

Sir, the seat belt light is on.

Moron.

- WZDC. - Yes, this is Richard Thornberg.

Put me through to Ruben in the newsroom.

- He's about to go live. - I know he's about to go on.

- That's why I need him. - You'll have to hold on -

Put me through, Celia, or start typing your résumé.

Esperanza's down.

But he's hurt. He took a round in his shoulder.

Plus I got one more of their guys.

That's six they lost altogether.

Maybe if we knew how many they had to start with, we could get excited...

but if they got 50 guys, it's a little early to break out the champagne!

We appreciate your effort, McClane, but we don't need a loose cannon on this deck!

What if they decide to crash another plane in retaliation for your little stunt?

They can't do that anymore, right, Barnes?

Besides, if I grabbed Esperanza, this would all be over by now.

Well, maybe they're just a little bit more creative than you think!

Well, at least I'm thinking, goddamn it!

Listen, you wise-ass, we're here to jerk off that cocksucker...

until he tries to take off - period!

Now, you're the wrong guy in the wrong place at the wrong time!

The story of my life.

Major, Pentagon Situation Room, sir!

Pentagon. I'll take it in here. Thank you, Telford.

You men come with me.

- McClane. - Yeah, Barnes.

- You said those guys showed up out there right away? - Yeah.

So - So that must mean they're on the field or close.

And I think I know where.

Come here. Let me show you something.

These are the old plans when the longer runways went in. That's-That's 12 years ago.

Looks like they've done some modifications on-site -

moved TRACON phones, I.L.S., all the underground stuff...

so they could handle drainage.

If I'm right, all of it would run right along the airport property...

and go right past this neighborhood.

We should have been on the ground two hours ago!

I understand, but if you just relax a little -

- Come on, lady. Who you tryin' to kid? - It's hopeless.

Somebody ought to get their ass kicked for this mess. That's for sure.

Well, unfortunately, there really isn't anyone we can blame for the weather.

Oh, yeah? What about that porker Willard Scott?

I should have taken the bus.

At least they can pull over for food and gas.

- Excuse me. - Yes?

I was just wondering.

Um, this flight originally was supposed to be five and a half hours, right?

- Mm-hmm. - Do we have enough fuel to keep circling like this?

Oh, of course. They anticipate little problems like this.

Barnes, we looked at 12 fucking houses, and we're nowhere.

This is our last possibility.

Over here there's an old church.

Let's go.

Wait.

There's the church over there.

- Could be a sentry. - And he could just be out for a walk.

Then why is he going over his own footsteps?

Come on.

All right. Just stay here and get ready to call the marines.

- I thought they were the army. - Who gives a fuck? Just be ready.

Oh, shit.

Not now.

Lorenzo, it's Barnes.

Barnes, where the hell did you go? Where's McClane?

He's with me. We're at the Highland Lake Community Church on the west side of the airport.

You're where? Goddamn it! You crazy idiot, why didn't -

This must be their base of operations. Shut up and get your ass over here! Move it!

Code red! Sit rep.

We got positive I.D. on Stuart's location. Let's move.

- Yo! - Yes, sir.

Our escape plane will be ready within 30 minutes, General.

If there are no more surprises.

Gentlemen, we have a situation here.

Over here.

Geez, McClane, you all right? You want a medic?

McClane, what the hell you think you're doing out there, playing John Wayne?

How would you like to spend the night in a cell?

Lorenzo, shut the fuck up and do something useful. Go seal off the street.

Hey, you can't talk to me like that.

Oh, no, Carmine? Sergeant, get this bureaucrat out of Mr. McClane's face now.

With pleasure, sir.

Major, the men are in position, sir.

Close up the back. Then we go in.

- Fire only on my order. - Roger that, sir.

Guess I was wrong about you.

You're not such an asshole after all.

No, you were right. I'm just your kind of asshole.

Garber, sit rep!

Army Special Forces on three sides, closing in fast around the back!

- Another problem, Colonel? - No problem, General.

Gentlemen, you know what to do.

- Down! - Get down! Get down!

General, it's time.

Come on. Let's move it!

- They're pulling out! - What?

Out the back!

Move it!

Albertson, take your men around the back.

This equipment - it could land our planes.

Don't touch anything. There were trip wires outside. They could have booby-trapped -

- They did. - Got one here. Looks like C-4. The motherfucker is armed.

Clear the area! Everybody, now!

They booby-trapped all the equipment.

- Seal off the building! - Shit!

Secure the area. Post sentries. No civilians allowed.

Hey, where the fuck is McClane?

Miller, take him!

I'll cover you!

Goddamn!

So much for the element of chance. Let's move out.

I had the bastard in my sights.

I know I did.

Oh. Oh, Jesus Christ.

Attention, Tower. Attention, Dulles Tower.

This is Colonel Stuart. Is our plane prepared?

It is. It's in Hangar 11.

It's the most remote building we've got.

We're on our way.

Have a ground crew there to confirm the condition of the plane.

Do you believe the balls on this son of a bitch?

Colonel, you're quite capable of confirming it yourself.

Now, please, don't ask us to gift wrap potential hostages for you.

Major Grant, isn't it?

If you remember me, Colonel, then you remember I know the drill as well as you do.

Check out your own fucking plane.

We move out in five minutes. Flak-jackets for everybody.

Body armor for the assault team.

Night scopes for the snipers.

We will take them in the hangar, and I will pull that detonator...

out of Stuart's dead fucking hand myself.

- Lorenzo, take all your men back to the airport. - Sir.

Seal off every exit in case any of 'em tries to slip past us...

- to break out onto the ground. - You got it.

All right, here we go.

Dick, this is nuts. Every station in town has people at the airport...

and none has heard a whisper of this shit you're running!

Well, none of them is me. You want proof? Try this.

Repeat. Terrorists have murdered civilians...

and cut off the two systems that can allow you to land.

A special U.S. Army unit is already here...

- and preparing to take out the terrorists. - Jesus Christ.

I want you to go live now.

Key me in from the files- a publicity shot, whatever.

Connie's got one. And a map - Steal one from weather.

We're on it. We're cutting in five minutes!

Tell the affiliates if they want in, they got three minutes to shout. Let's do this.

Network, here I come.

Hey, Telford, what was your chickenshit outfit doing while we were taking Grenada?

Grenada - five minutes of firefight, five weeks of surfing.

I wish I was with you guys for that.

Yeah. Me too, kid.

- Really, sir? - Sure.

Then we wouldn't have to do this.

Eagle Nest, this is Hatchling.

On schedule and in position.

Roger, Hatchling. We are secure here.

You have a green light. I repeat, a green light.

Jesus, Officer, where'd you come from, Pearl Harbor?

All right, let's clear it out, please.

Stand by. Five, four, three -

This is a special bulletin from WZDC News.

There was a plane crash earlier this evening at Dulles...

where other aircraft continue to circle...

with no explanation from airport or F.A.A. officials.

- Shh! Quiet! - And now, with an exclusive WZDC report...

here's Dick Thornberg reporting from the skies over Washington.

- Can you turn it up? - I'm one of the thousand people...

who has been circling our nation's capital...

under the assumption that whatever problem was going on far below was a normal one.

But the truth is far from normal.

The truth is terrifying.

Look out! Lady, look out!

Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out! Get out of the way!

Ho! Get out of the way!

- Move! Get out of the way, lady! Go! Go! Hey! Hey! - Look out!

This is a recording of a conversation...

between Dulles Tower and the captive aircraft overhead.

Hey! Get out of the way!

- Lorenzo! Lorenzo! - McClane, are you out of your fucking mind?

The Blue Light Team, where are they?

Stuart's got explosives on the equipment in the church rigged with a remote.

- Where's Grant? - Grant's boys are gonna kill that son of a bitch and get it.

- They're gonna get on the plane and take off with him! - Get the fuck out of here!

When the army canned Stuart, he must have loaded that unit with his own men!

- Are you nuts? That firefight - - Sideshow to jerk us off, buy 'em some time.

McClane, you are completely around the fucking bend.

- You know that? You know what else? You're under arrest. - You motherfucker!

Here! These are the bullets they used out there tonight!

Blanks!

Jesus Christ.

This is Chief Lorenzo.

I want every officer recalled and assembled in body armor and full weaponry...

in the motor pool in five minutes.

It's time to kick ass.

Just like Iwo Jima!

Since then, this reporter has learned that the terrorists...

have virtual control of the entire airport -

a fact that the authorities have repressed.

The terrorists promise more bloodshed...

unless their demands are met.

And now that the special army commandos have arrived at the airport...

the likelihood of a full-scale and deadly battle is dangerously close.

That stupid, arrogant son of a bitch.

It's all over the airport.

300 people have died.

- When are we going to land? - I have no information.

And unfortunately they may not be the last.

The horrifying fact is that no one is safe...

either in the planes above Dulles or in the terminal below.

The threat of a new and higher body count at the airport...

hangs over the heads of everyone...

and the holiday season of peace and love has become a nightmare.

All right, listen up!

All units, I want you to converge on Hangar 11, all sides!

This car, McClane! Get in!

When the city blue show up with their backup, they'll pick up the pieces!

Now, move out!

McClane, say hi to my brother Vito.

- Merry Christmas. - Hi.

Shit!

- Goddamn it to hell! Move that piece of shit! - What's the matter with you?

I didn't even see you, man.

Will you move that goddamn piece of shit out of here!

Vito, get the fuck out of the car and get your ass in gear and help me, for Christ's sake!

Will you get - Move that car back right now, lady!

- Right there. Right there. Get that. - Hey, Coleman!

Sam! Sam Coleman!

- Hey, Coleman! - Hi!

Coleman!

But at least the truth is not among the hostages...

because I, Richard Thornberg, just happened to be here...

to put his life and talent...

on the line for humanity and country.

And if this should be my final broadcast -

Amen to that... Dick.

Dick? We're live, Dick.

Where are you now? Dick?

Truck lights approaching, sir.

They're here, right on schedule.

The hangar door, open it. Clockwork.

Geez, you give me this story, and I'll have your baby.

Not the kind of ride I'm looking for.

Colonel, if I may say so, you are some piece of work.

Thank you, Major. You're not so bad yourself.

Congratulations on your escape, sir.

Thank you, Major. Maybe you should save them until we are all safe, hmm?

- Sir. - My congratulations, gentlemen.

You've won a victory for our way of life...

my pride, my admiration and a kick-ass vacation.

Now get on board.

- What's the matter, cowboy, ride too rough? - I don't like to fly.

- Then what are you doing here? - I don't like to lose either.

Okay! Whoo! Here we go!

I don't know about you guys, but I've seen enough fucking snow to last me a lifetime.

They don't get much of that in the tropics, Major.

For you, gentlemen, we'll import it.

Shit! They left the hangar!

Right there. Right there. Get that.

- All right, now what? - Get in front of them! Take it down!

Block their path so they can't get out of there!

I'm not playing chicken with a 200-ton plane! I'm crazy, but I ain't that crazy. Forget it.

Dulles, this is Northeast 140.

- Request clearance on first available runway. - That's Holly's plane.

Repeat. Request emergency clearance.

I know you're not gonna answer, but you better listen!

We're down to fumes, and we have to land...

and in five minutes we're coming in one way or another.

Goddamn it. That's my wife's plane! Take it fucking down!

I'm not gettin' in front of that plane!

All right, how about getting over top of it?

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. Your attention.

We have no choice but to attempt an emergency landing.

Please fasten your seat belts and assume crash positions...

as instructed by your cabin attendants.

Let's have the emergency checklist.

Attention all air traffic on this frequency in Dulles area. This is Northeast 140.

We're going to attempt an emergency landing. Be advised.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die.

- Just buckle your seat belt. - I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

You're gonna be all right. Lean forward now. Thank you.

God! Oh!

Oh, God.

Oh, God. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

- Hang on! Hang on! - What are you doing?

You wanted a story, didn't you? Nice and easy, boys.

- Get me in low! - You got it!

- Where are you going? - Bring me down!

You'll get yourself killed! Come back inside!

Bring it in low! Keep over the wing!

Lower!

John, what the fuck are you doing out on the wing of this plane?

Damn!

- Mierda. - What?

There's something wrong. The ailerons.

We can't take off.

Hijo de puta. It's McClane again.

Son of a bitch!

- I'll do him. - This time do it right.

You just get us in the air, General. You're the only man who can do it.

Don't shoot. That wing is fully fueled.

Too bad, McClane. I kind of liked you!

Goddamn traitor!

Whoa!

I got enough friends!

Whoa!

Oh!

Oh!

Okay, McClane, time for the main event!

This is for Flight 114, motherfucker!

How's it going?

Bon voyage!

Happy landings, asshole!

Yippie-kai-yay, motherfucker.

Yeah. All right.

Whoa!

Ah, fuck.

Oh!

Holly!

Here's your fucking landing light! Whoo!

Oh, God.

- Look! Look! - Okay. I see it! I see it!

They used the fire to see! They used the fucking fire to see!

- They can all do that. Let's tell 'em. - They already know.

- We had a visual on Northeastern's landing. - Listen.

They were following the fire trail in as a guide. If they can do it, so can we!

Whoo! Any landing you can walk away from is a good one. That's great.

Whew!

Oh!

Jump! Jump!

- I got you! - Jump!

- There you go. That's it. - There he is!

That's it!

Holly!

Holly!

Holly!

Come on! We got you!

- Oh! Oh! - You're gonna be all right, ma'am.

Oh, God. Oh, baby.

I thought I was never gonna see you again.

That's what I thought about you.

I love you so much.

They told me there were terrorists at the airport.

Yeah. I heard that too.

- God, that's beautiful. - Yeah.

Yup, it sure is.

Oh, I love you so much.

Oh, John.

Why does this keep happening to us?

Let's go home.

Get in the truck!

- Let's get her out of here! - Right.

Somebody help me, please!

- Oh, honey, help me up here, please. - Asshole!

Hey, Officer! Hey, come on! Come on! Hey, hey!

Hey! Hop on in there! Get your missus in!

What do you say, Marv?

I'll be damned if I'm gonna clean up this mess!

Hey, McClane!

You get this parking ticket in front of my airport?

Yeah.

Ah, what the hell. It's Christmas!

Take off, Marv!