All language subtitles for 1995 GoldenEye ENG SUBS

Beg your pardon. Forgot to knock.

Ni odnoho vyzdoha. Gdye vashy?

I'm alone.

Aren't we all?

-You're late, 007.
-I had to stop in the bathroom.

-Ready to save the world again?
-After you, 006.

-James... For England.
-For England, Alec.

-It's too easy.
-Half of everything is luck, James.

And the other half?

Fate.

-Set timers: six minutes.
-Six minutes. Check.

Fire.

-Closing time, James. Last call.
-Buy me a pint.

This is Colonel Ourumov.
Come out with your hands up.

How original.

Shut the door, Alec. There's a draught.

Alec?

Move out. Throw down your weapon
and walk towards me, slowly.

-Finish the job, James. Blow them to hell.
-You have ten seconds.

Ten,

nine, eight,

seven, six,

five, four,

-three, two...
-For England, James.

Hold your fire. You'll blow the gas tanks.

This is your last chance.
Come out with your hands...

Wait.

You can't win.

Get out there. Move. Move it.

Hold your fire.

Wait.

-James, is it necessary to drive so fast?
-More often than you'd think.

I enjoy a spirited ride
as much as the next girl, but...

-Who's that?
-The next girl.

James, stop this. Stop it.

-I know what you're doing.
-What's that, dear?

You are just trying to show off
the size of your...

-Engine?
-Ego.

We're having a pleasant drive
and you bring psychology into it.

-I was just sent here to evaluate you.
-Let's put that behind us, shall we?

Ladies first.

James, I want you to stop this car.

-Really?
-Stop this car at once.

As you can see, I have no problem
with female authority.

James, you're incorrigible.

What am I going to do with you?

Let's toast your evaluation, shall we?

A very thorough evaluation.

Bonsoir, Monsieur Bond.
Très heureux de vous revoir.

-Bonsoir, Pierre. Ça va bien?
-Très bien. Et vous?

Sept à la banque.

Madame wins.

Bet, mademoiselle? Non?

Monsieur.

Bets, ladies and gentlemen?

-No players?
-Banco.

It appears we share the same passions.

Three, anyway.

I count two -motoring and baccarat.

Huit, pour la banque.

Seven. Madame wins.

I hope the third
is where your real talent lies.

One rises to meet a challenge.

Double.

Suivez.

Carte.

Madame stands with five.

-Six. Madame loses.
-Buliatch.

-Enjoy it while it lasts.
-The very words I live by.

And what words do you live by?

-The trick is to quit while you're ahead.
-That's one trick I've never learned.

Perhaps you'll show me how it's done.

Vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred.

And for you?

The same.

How do you take it?

Straight up, with a twist.

Thank you, Mr...

The name's Bond. James Bond.

Xenia Zaragevna Onatopp.

-Onatopp?
-Onatopp.

-Your accent... Georgian?
-Very good, Mr Bond.

-You've been to Russia.
-Not recently.

I used to drop in occasionally.
Shoot in and out.

It's very different now.
A land of opportunity.

With a new Ferrari in every garage?

No, not quite. That belongs to a friend.

A tip for your friend: the French number
plates for this year's model start with "L".

Even the counterfeit ones.

And what rank do you hold with
the motor vehicles department, Mr Bond?

Commander.

Shall we go?

This one is an admiral.

I like a woman who enjoys pulling rank.

Nice to meet you, Mr Bond.

The pleasure, I'm sure, was all mine.

Transmission begins from Moneypenny.

Identification confirmed:
Onatopp, Xenia. Ex-Soviet fighter pilot.

Current suspected links to the Janus
crime syndicate, St Petersburg.

Yacht "Manticore" is leased
to a known Janus corporate front.

M authorises you
to observe Miss Onatopp,

but stipulates no contact
without prior approval.

End of transmission. Moneypenny.

Good night, James. I trust
you'll stay "onatopp" of things.

Lyubeemyets.

Xenia, I can't breathe.

Yes! Yes!

Merci, mon amiral.

My respects, Admiral.

Delighted to have you aboard,
mademoiselle.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please take your seats
for the demonstration of the aircraft.

What you are about to see is Europe's
answer to the electronic battlefield:

the first working prototype
of the Tiger helicopter.

Uniquely manoeuvrable, the Tiger
not only uses Stealth technology,

it is hardened against all forms
of electronic interference,

radio jamming
and electromagnetic radiation.

I have a small surprise from
your friends at the barracks.

I think I've gone to heaven.

Not yet.

Please welcome the pilots.

Lieutenant Commander Bernard Jaubert
and Lieutenant François Brouse.

Select Mir.

Orthographic projection.

Compute possible intercept
with second-stage geo-sat two.

Anna.

He wouldn't know a woman
if one came up and sat on his head.

Boris.

What?

I thought I'd post it
on the Internet, no?

-What's the password?
-I made it easy this time.

Even you should be able to break it,
borscht-for-brains.

All right. All right. I'll give you a hint.

They're right in front of you
and can open very large doors.

You're such a geek.

Yes. I'm in.

You've hacked into
the US Department of Justice.

What if they trace it here?

The chief of computers will call me
a genius, move me to Moscow

and give me a million bucks
hard currency.

I think not.

Besides, the Americans are slug-heads.
They'll never detect me.

You were saying, slug-head?

Nobody screws with Boris Grishenko.

-Spiked them.
-Come on, Boris. Just hang up.

No way. I spiked them.

-All right. What's the password?
-I'm not going to tell you.

OK. Let me guess.

It's not in front of me?

You sit on it,
but you can't take it with you.

My program seizes the phone line
of whoever's tracing me

and jams their modem
so they can't hang up.

Now the hunted becomes the hunter.

"Better luck next time,

"slug-heads."

Bang. Gone. I am invincible.

Was it good for you, too?

I'm getting some coffee.

I'm going for a cigarette.

General Arkady Grigorovich Ourumov,
head of Space Division.

-General, if I'd known...
-You'd have been ready.

This is an unscheduled test
of Severnaya, Major. War simulation.

We are going to test-fire GoldenEye.
Report your status.

Two operational satellites, sir, Petya and
Mischa, in 90-minute earth orbit at 100km.

Good.

Here is the authorisation code.

Now, the GoldenEye and today's access
numbers for satellite Petya, please.

I am timing you.

Good. Thank you, Major.

On my count.

Three, two, one...

Set target. Severnaya.

Arm the weapon.

Check it.

Their best response time
is 19 minutes. They'll be late.

It's clean. I had to ventilate someone.

-Good evening, Moneypenny.
-Good evening, James.

M will meet you in the Situation Room.
I'm to take you in.

-Never seen you after hours. Lovely.
-Thank you, James.

Out on some kind of assignment?
Dressing to kill?

I know you'll find this crushing, 007,

but I don't sit at home
praying for an international incident

so I can run down here
all dressed up to impress James Bond.

I was on a date with a gentleman.
We went to the theatre.

Moneypenny, I'm devastated.

What would I ever do without you?

As far as I can remember, James,
you've never had me.

Hope springs eternal.

This sort of behaviour
could qualify as sexual harassment.

Really? What's the penalty for that?

Someday you have to make good
on your innuendoes.

-After you, Moneypenny.
-No, I insist. You first.

-Good evening, 007.
-Tanner. What's up?

16 minutes ago,
we intercepted a distress call

from a supposedly abandoned
radar station at Severnaya. Look.

-We found a match. Your missing Tiger.
-In the middle of northern Russia?

Your hunch was right. Too bad the evil
queen of numbers wouldn't let you play it.

-You were saying?
-No, no. I was just...just...

Good. Because if I want sarcasm, I'll
talk to my children, thank you very much.

-Good evening, 007.
-Good evening, M.

The prime minister's
waiting for an update.

Proceed with your briefing, Mr Tanner.

Thank you.

Yes, after the distress signal,
your helicopter took off

and the Russians
had three MiGs intercept it.

What do you think the base is used for?

We suspected it might be
the ground station

for a secret space-based
weapon called GoldenEye, but...

Our statistical analysis saw they had
neither the finance nor technology.

Numbers were never my strong suit.

Are these pictures live?

Unlike the American government, we
prefer not to get our bad news from CNN.

Negative so far.
Everything seems normal.

What the bloody hell was that?

Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova.

Boris. Boris.

Thanks.

Our satellite is knocked out.
So are two of the Americans'.

We have another, coming into range now.

Good God.

Two of the MiGs are down.

It looks like the third went into the dish.

What do you think?

No lights. Not one single
electric light on in a 30-mile radius.

-EMP?
-It would explain the MiGs and satellites.

-And the blackout.
-Electromagnetic pulse.

-A satellite weapon developed by the...
-Americans and Soviets in the Cold War.

I've read the brief.

Discovered after Hiroshima. Set off
a nuclear device in the upper atmosphere.

Creates a pulse, a radiation surge,
that destroys everything electronic.

The idea being to knock out the enemy's
communications before they can retaliate.

So, GoldenEye exists.

Yes.

-Could this be an accident?
-No. The helicopter.

For stealing the GoldenEye,
it was the perfect getaway vehicle.

Setting off the blast would
wipe out any trace of the crime.

-The Janus group?
-It may be linked to the helicopter.

I know the Russian fail-safe systems.

You just don't walk in and ask for the keys
to the bomb. You need the access codes.

There had to be an insider.

At least one person
probably knows who it is.

Very well, sir. Thank you. Good night.

The prime minister's talked to Moscow. It
was "an accident on a training exercise".

Governments change.
The lies stay the same.

What else do we know about Janus?

Top-flight arms dealers,
headquartered in St Petersburg.

Restocked the Iraqis during the Gulf War.

The head man's unreliably
described. No photographs.

The woman, Onatopp,
is our only confirmed contact.

-Would you care for a drink?
-Thank you.

-Your predecessor kept some cognac...
-I prefer bourbon.

-Ice?
-Yes.

We pulled the files on whoever may have
had access or authority at Severnaya.

The top name on the list's
an old friend of yours, I understand.

Ourumov. They made him a general.

He sees himself as the next
"iron man of Russia".

Our political analysts say
he doesn't fit the profile of a traitor.

Are these the same analysts who said
that GoldenEye couldn't exist?

Who said the helicopter posed no threat
and wasn't worth following?

You don't like me, Bond.
You don't like my methods.

You think I'm an accountant, more
interested in numbers than your instincts.

-The thought had occurred to me.
-Good.

Because I think you're
a sexist, misogynist dinosaur,

a relic of the Cold War, whose
boyish charms, though wasted on me,

obviously appealed to that young woman
I sent out to evaluate you.

-Point taken.
-Not quite, 007.

If you think I don't have the balls
to send a man out to die,

your instincts are dead wrong.

I've no compunction
about sending you to your death.

But I won't do it on a whim, even
with your cavalier attitude towards life.

I want you to find GoldenEye.

Find who took it, what they plan
to do with it, and stop it.

If you come across Ourumov,
guilty or not,

don't run off on a vendetta. Avenging
Alec Trevelyan will not bring him back.

-You didn't get him killed.
-Neither did you. Don't make it personal.

Never.

Bond...

Come back alive.

Good morning, General Ourumov.

Defence Minister Mishkin... Gentlemen.

Please, deliver your report.

As you know, 72 hours ago, a secret
weapons system -codename GoldenEye-

was detonated over Severnaya.

As head of Space Division,
I personally undertook the investigation.

I have concluded this crime was
committed by Siberian separatists

seeking to create political unrest.

Regrettably, the peaceful work and the
hard-currency earnings of Severnaya

have been set back by several years.

Therefore, I tender my resignation.

It seems the council does not want
your head, Arkady Grigorovich.

Merely your assurance that
there are no other GoldenEyes.

I can give you that assurance,
Defence Minister.

And what of the two missing
Severnaya technicians?

I was aware only of the one.
Boris Grishenko.

There was a girl also, whose body
was not among the dead.

Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova.
A level-two programmer.

I will investigate immediately.

It would seem presumptuous to blame
this incident on Siberian separatists

before the whereabouts
of your own people are determined.

-Do you agree?
-Yes, Defence Minister.

Thank you for bringing it to my attention.

That will be all.

Morning, Q. Sorry about the leg. Skiing?

Hunting.

Right. Now pay attention, 007.

First, your new car.

BMW. Agile, five forward gears,
all-points radar.

Self-destruct system. And, naturally,
all the usual refinements.

Now, this I'm particularly proud of.

Behind the headlights, Stinger missiles.

Excellent. Just the thing
for unwinding after a rough day.

Need I remind you, 007, that you have
a licence to kill, not break the traffic laws.

-I wouldn't think of it.
-Good.

Right. Let's get on
to more practical matters.

A typical leather belt.
Male, size 34, buckle, notch.

Have you finished?

-Yes.
-Good.

-A typical belt...
-Q, I'm familiar with that device.

Not one with a 75-foot
rappelling cord built into the buckle.

Fire, and out shoots a piton,

followed by a high-tensile wire
designed to support your weight.

I see. And what if I need
additional support?

It's tested for one, 007.

Flight 878 to St Petersburg.

X-ray document scanner.

A pen. This is a class 4 grenade.

Three clicks arms the four-second fuse.

Another three disarms it.

How long did you say the fuse was?

Grow up, 007.

-"The pen is mightier than the sword."
-Thanks to me, it is.

Look, let's ask Freddie here
to demonstrate for us.

Here we are. Sorry about this, Fred.
One, two, three.

-Don't say it.
-The writing's on the wall?

Along with the rest of him.

Now, 007, do please try and return...

Do try and return some of this
equipment in pristine order.

Don't touch that. That's my lunch.

In London, April's a spring month.

Oh, yeah? What are you -
the weatherman?

For cryin' out loud.
Another stiff-assed Brit,

with your secret codes and passwords.

One of these days you guys
are gonna learn just to drop it.

Come on. My car's over there.

-After you.
-Thank you.

-Like you said, drop it.
-All right.

In London, April's a spring month.
In St Petersburg, we freeze our butts off.

-Close enough for government work?
-No.

-Show me the rose.
-Please, no.

All right, all right, all right.

-"Muffy"?
-Third wife.

-Jack Wade, CIA.
-James Bond, stiff-assed Brit.

-That's a nice move.
-Nice car.

Hasn't let me down yet. She's an ugly
little bitch, but she gets you there.

Hey, Bond. Do you do any gardening?

St Petersburg express
has now arrived at Platform 3.

Can you hand me that wrench, Jimmy?

-So what do you know about Janus?
-Zilch. Zipsky.

No one's ever seen him.
But the man's connected up the kazoo.

KGB, military. Screwdriver.

Rumour has it he lives on
one of those old Soviet missile trains.

That armoured stuff they used to
run around so we couldn't target 'em.

Wanna hand me that hammer, Jimbo?

No, the bigger one. The sledge.

Anyways, to tell the truth,
you don't find this guy. He finds you.

Hell, it's all Russian Mafia.

Best thing I can do is point you
in the direction of his competition.

-Who is the competition?
-An ex-KGB guy. Tough mother.

Limps on his right leg. Name's Zukovsky.

-Valentin Dimitreveych Zukovsky?
-Yeah.

-You know him?
-I gave him the limp.

Yes?

-Are these all you have?
-How many do you want?

24 for the American school,
11 for the Swedish.

IBM-compatible with 500 meg
hard drives, CD-ROM and 14.4 modems.

-You pay dollars?
-Of course.

If madam requires a demonstration...

Madam requires one demonstration
model and a quiet place to test it.

Natalya.

-Is everything satisfactory?
-Everything except the interruption.

Let me get this straight, Jimmy.

You shot him in the leg,
you stole his car, you took his girl.

And now you want Zukovsky
to set you up with Janus?

-Yes.
-Are you gonna appeal to his heart?

-No. His wallet.
-That might work.

OK. Showtime.

Valentin operates
out of building number 23.

Are you sure you wanna do this?

Last guy who dropped in uninvited went
home air freight -in very small boxes.

Make sure they send me home first class.

Natalya. It's me. It's Boris.
It's Boris. It's Boris. Hello.

Another morning shot to hell.

Free-market economy!
I swear it will be the end of me.

Walther PPK, 7.65mm.

Only three men I know use such a gun.
I believe I've killed two of them.

-Lucky me.
-I think not.

Ooh-ahh

And if you love him

Love him

Oh, be so proud of him

Of him

Cos after all

He's just a man

Stand by your man...

James Bond.

Charming, sophisticated secret agent.

"Shaken, but not stirred."

I see you haven't lost your
delicate sense of humour, Valentin.

Or your need for an audience.

-Who's strangling the cat?
-Strangling a cat?

Stand by your man

That is Irina, my mistress.

Very talented girl.

Irina. Take a hike.

So, Mr Bond, what is it that
brings you to my neighbourhood?

Still working for MI6, or
have you joined the 21st century?

I hear the new M is a lady.

I want you to do me a favour.

He wants me to do him a favour.

My knee aches every single day.
Twice as bad when it is cold.

Have you any idea how long
the winter lasts in this country?

-Tell him, Dimitri.
-It depends...

Silence.

For an ex-KGB agent,
you surprise me, Valentin.

Surely you must have realised the skill
was not to hit your knee, but to

miss the rest of you.

-So why did you not kill me?
-Call it professional courtesy.

Then I should extend you
the same courtesy.

Kirov's funeral parlour,
four o'clock this afternoon.

200 pounds of C4 explosives
hidden in a casket.

Your man drives the hearse in,
the money's exchanged,

their man drives the hearse out.

Their man will be arrested
with the explosives.

Your man will make
a miraculous escape with the money.

Your money.

And what do I owe
for this accommodation?

I want you to set me up with Janus.

-What has he done to deserve you?
-Stole a helicopter.

-I have six.
-Three. None that fly.

-Who's counting?
-These aren't just criminals but traitors.

They used the chopper to steal a nuclear
weapon. Killed a lot of innocent Russians.

-What do you expect from a Cossack?
-Who?

This Janus -I never met the man,
but I know he's a Lienz Cossack.

The group that worked
for the Nazis, Second World War.

You know your history.
At the end of the war,

the Lienz Cossacks surrendered
to the British in Austria,

believing they would join them
and wage war against the communists.

But the British betrayed them,
sent them back to Stalin,

who promptly had them all shot.

Women, children, families.

Not exactly our finest hour.

Still, ruthless people.
They got what they deserved.

I want you to set me up with Janus.
Tell him I'm asking about the chopper.

-You meet me tonight at the Grand Hotel.
-And then you and I are even and

-he owes me one.
-Precisely.

You don't need the gun, Commander.

That depends on
your definition of safe sex.

That's close enough.

Not for what I have in mind.

You think you can hurt me?

You think you can break me?

Yes! Yes! Yes!

No, no, no.

No more foreplay.

Take me to Janus.

Buliatch.

-This is it?
-Yes.

Well, I must say, I've had a lovely evening.

-You?
-Once again, the pleasure was all yours.

-You'll understand if I don't call.
-I won't lose sleep over it.

Sweet dreams.

Hello, James.

-Alec?
-Back from the dead.

No longer just an anonymous star
on the Memorial Wall at MI6.

What's the matter, James?
No glib remark? No pithy comeback?

Why?

Hilarious question. Particularly from you.

Did you ever ask why we toppled
all those dictators and regimes,

only to come home - "Well done.
Good job, but sorry, old boy."

"Everything you risked
your life for has changed."

-It was the job we were chosen for.
-Of course you'd say that.

James Bond, Her Majesty's loyal terrier,
defender of the so-called faith.

Please, James, put it away.

It's insulting to think
I haven't anticipated your every move.

Yes.

-I trusted you, Alec.
-Trust. What a quaint idea.

How did the MI6 screening miss
that your parents were Lienz Cossacks?

Once again, your faith
is misplaced. They knew.

We're both orphans, James.

But where your parents had the luxury
of dying in a climbing accident,

mine survived the British betrayal
and Stalin's execution squads.

But my father couldn't let himself
or my mother live with the shame of it.

MI6 figured I was too young to remember.

And in one of life's little ironies,

the son went to work for
the government whose betrayal

caused the father to kill
himself and his wife.

Hence Janus, the two-faced
Roman god, come to life.

It wasn't God who gave me this face.

It was you, setting the timers
for three minutes instead of six.

-Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?
-No. You're supposed to die for me.

By the way,

I did think of asking you to join
my little scheme, but somehow I knew

007's loyalty was always to the mission,

never to his friend.

Closing time, James. Last call.

For England, James.

Wake up. Mister.

Wake up, please. Wake up.

I'm here. I'm here.

Hurry. Hurry up. Come on.

Pull yourself together or we're gonna die.

-Do something. Get us out of here.
-I'm a little tied up.

Never mind.

The things we do
for frequent-flier mileage.

Here. Let me help you.

That's it. Mind your head.

Let me go.

Who are you?

-Listen. I'm on your side.
-I don't know anything.

-I don't believe you.
-I don't care.

Look, they might be back any minute.

Are you with me, or your countrymen
who killed everyone at Severnaya?

I've never been to Severnaya.

Your watch has. Frozen
by the GoldenEye blast.

And I'm willing to bet you're the one
who climbed up the dish to get out.

-Who are you?
-I work for the British government.

The more you tell me,
the more I can help you.

-But I don't know anything.
-Then start with what you do know.

My name is Natalya Simonova.

I was a systems programmer
at Severnaya facility until...

Go on.

-...until they killed everyone.
-Who? Alec Trevelyan?

-No. I don't know who that is.
-Who's the insider? Who's the traitor?

Boris. Boris Grishenko.

-KGB or military?
-Computer programmer.

-There was no one else?
-No.

They're going to kill me, aren't they?

Trust me.

Trust you? I don't even know your name.

Good morning, Mr Bond. Sit.

I am Defence Minister Dimitri Mishkin.

So, by what means shall we
execute you, Commander Bond?

What, no small talk?

No chitchat?

That's the trouble. No one has time to do
a really sinister interrogation any more.

-It's a lost art.
-Your sense of humour doesn't slay me.

-Where is the GoldenEye?
-I assumed you had it.

I have an English spy,
a programmer and a helicopter...

-That's how your traitor wants it to look.
-Who attacked Severnaya?

-Who had the codes?
-The penalty for terrorism is still death.

-And for treason?
-Stop it, both of you. Stop it.

You're like boys with toys.

It was Ourumov.
General Ourumov set off the weapon.

I saw him do it.

-Are you certain it was Ourumov?
-Yes.

He killed everyone,
then stole the GoldenEye.

And why would he do that?

There is another satellite.

Another GoldenEye.

Thank you, Miss Simonova.

What did you say about
the lost art of interrogation, Mr Bond?

Defence Minister, I must protest.
This is my investigation.

-You are out of order.
-Molcheetye. Molcheech.

From what I am hearing,
it is you who is out of order.

I've seen this gun
in the hand of our enemy.

-Put it down, General.
-Do you even know who the enemy is?

-Do you?
-Guard.

Defence Minister Dimitri Mishkin,

murdered by British agent James Bond,

himself shot while trying to escape.

Guards.

Come on.

They're in the archive.

Down.

Spread out. Cover the other side.

Trust me.

Go now.

Faster.

Damn it.

Down the alley.

Use the bumper. That's what it's for.

Nazad.

What was that?

Go left.

Get out.

Either you've brought me the perfect gift,
or you've made me a very unhappy man.

Mishkin got to them before I could.

Bond is alive?

-He escaped.
-Good for Bond.

Bad for you.

Take a seat, my dear.

You know, James and I
shared everything.

Absolutely everything.

To the victor go the spoils.

You'll like it where we're going.

You may even learn to like me.

Svinya.

Stay with her.

Bond. Only Bond.

He's going to derail us.

-Full speed.
-Shto?

Full speed. Ram him.

Bye-bye.

Why can't you just
be a good boy and die?

You first.

You second.

Up.

Situation analysis: hopeless.

You have no backup, no escape route.

And I have the only bargaining chip.

-Where is she?
-Ah, yes. Your fatal weakness.

Ourumov, bring her in.

Lovely girl.

Tastes like...like strawberries.

-I wouldn't know.
-I would.

So, back where we started, James.

Your friend, or the mission?

Drop the gun. I'll let her live.

Ourumov, what has
this Cossack promised you?

You knew, didn't you?
He's a Lienz Cossack.

-It's in the past.
-He'll betray you. Just like everyone else.

-Is this true?
-What's true is that in 48 hours

you and I will have more money than God,

and Mr Bond here will have
a small memorial service

with only Moneypenny and a few
tearful restaurateurs in attendance.

So, what's the choice, James?

Two targets, time enough for one shot.

The girl, or the mission?

Kill her. She means nothing to me.

See you in hell, James.

-One-inch armour plating.
-I'm fine, thank you very much!

Boris. Yes.

-What are you doing?
-Boris is on-line backing up his files.

If I can spike him, I might be able
to find out where they're going.

-Don't stand there. Get us out of here.
-Yes, sir.

Good luck with the floor, James.

I set the timers for six minutes -
the same six minutes you gave me.

It was the least I could do for a friend.

-What does that mean?
-We've got three minutes.

-What else do you call your bottom?
-What?

Boris' password. He plays word games.
"What I sit on but don't take with me."

-Chair.
-Like I said...

30 seconds.

He's not in Russia,
Germany, Paris, London, Madrid...

-25 seconds.
-New York, Toronto, Chicago,

-San Francisco...
-20 seconds.

Mexico City, Rio, Miami...

-Come on.
-Wait. He's in Cuba. Havana -no.

Now.

Do you destroy
every vehicle you get into?

Standard operating procedure.

Boys with toys.

Maybe I should take care of
the transportation for our trip to Cuba.

Our trip?

Do you know how to disarm the weapon?

I suppose that depends on what kind of
weapon you're talking about disarming.

So, tell me. Are there any other
standard operating procedures

I should be aware of, Commander?

Thousands.

But I only pay them

lip service.

My whole life I dreamed
about coming to the Caribbean.

It's so beautiful.

Not another human being in sight.

What is it with you and moving vehicles?

Yo, Jimbo. Brought a little gift
from old whatshisname? T? Z?

-Q.
-Yeah.

-What are you doing here, Wade?
-Banyan trees.

I am not here. The CIA has
no knowledge, no involvement.

Nothing to do with your insertion
into Cuba, if you catch my drift.

Yes, I do.

Borrowed the plane
from a friend in the DEA.

The Coast Guard and the FAA
are in the loop.

You're cleared on our radar
for 0600 hours.

Here's the latest sat-int from Langley.

-Stay below 600 feet.
-500 feet.

-Who's that?
-Natalya Simonova.

-Sim-yo-nova.
-Russian minister of transportation.

Did you check her out?

-Head to toe.
-Right...

So, you're lookin' for a dish the size
of a football field, huh? Doesn't exist.

-Light a cigar in Cuba and we see it.
-I know it's there.

It's a duplicate of Severnaya, like
your secret transmitters in New Zealand.

I've never been there.
How does she know about that?

-What if I need backup?
-Get on the radio. I'll send in the marines.

Anyway, hang a left
at the end of the runway.

-Cuba's 80 miles on your right.
-Yo, Wade.

Just one thing. Don't push
any of the buttons on that car.

-I'm just gonna bomb around in it.
-Exactly.

Yo, James. I got faith, but be careful.

He knows you're comin'.

He was your friend -Trevelyan.

And now he's your enemy
and you will kill him.

It is that simple?

In a word, yes.

-Unless he kills you first.
-Natalya...

You think I'm impressed? With your guns,
your killing, your death. For what?

So you can be a hero?

-All the heroes I know are dead.
-Natalya...

How can you act like this?
How can you be so cold?

It's what keeps me alive.

No. It's what keeps you alone.

James...

Yes?

On the train,

when you told him to kill me
and that I meant nothing to you,

did you mean it?

Yes.

Basic rule: always call their bluff.

No.

Turn ten degrees south, bearing 1-8-4.

Yes, sir.

Nothing. There is nothing here.

Let's make another pass.

Maybe Wade was right. There is no dish.

Natalya.

This time, Mr Bond,
the pleasure will be all mine.

You wait for your turn.

She always did enjoy a good squeeze.

-Is the satellite in range?
-Six minutes.

-Prepare the dish.
-No. It's too early.

-I am not ready.
-Do it.

No wonder we couldn't see it.

Come on.

The world's greatest cash card.

It had better not be rejected.

-Mischa is on-line.
-Sir.

Kill him.

The man just won't take a hint.

-Target coordinates?
-The target is London.

He's getting ready to signal the satellite.

-How do you stop it?
-The transmitter above the antenna.

Antenna in position.

On my count.

Three, two, one.

God save the Queen.

-The mainframe computer.
-Don't move.

James. What an unpleasant surprise.

-We aim to please.
-Where's the girl?

Find her.

So, how is old Q?

Up to his usual tricks?

The watch.

A new model. Still press here, do I?

Interesting setup, Alec.

You break into the Bank of England
via computer,

then transfer the money electronically

just seconds before
you set off the GoldenEye,

which erases any record
of the transactions.

-Ingenious.
-Thank you, James.

But it still boils down to petty theft.

In the end, you're just a bank robber.
Nothing more than a common thief.

You always did have
a small mind, James.

It's not just erasing bank records. It's
everything on every computer in London.

Tax records, the stock market,
credit ratings, land registries,

criminal records.

In 16 minutes and 43... No, 42 seconds,

the United Kingdom
will re-enter the Stone Age.

A worldwide financial meltdown.

And all so mad little Alec can settle
a score with the world 50 years on.

Please, James. Spare me the Freud.
I might as well ask you

if all the vodka martinis ever silence
the screams of all the men you've killed.

Or if you find forgiveness
in the arms of all those willing women

for all the dead ones
you failed to protect.

England is about to learn
the cost of betrayal,

inflation-adjusted for 1945.

-Welcome to the party, my dear.
-Natalya.

Don't ever do that again.

This is not one of your games, Boris.
Real people will die.

You pathetic little worm.

She was in the mainframe.
Check the computer.

She's a moron.
A second-level programmer.

She works on the guidance system.

She doesn't even have access
to the firing codes.

Retro-rockets firing.

-What the hell's happening?
-We will have re-entry in 12 minutes.

It will burn up
somewhere over the Atlantic.

-Deal with it.
-She changed the access codes.

Then she can fix it.

Go ahead. Shoot him.
He means nothing to me.

I can do it. I can break her codes.

Then get on with it.

Tell him. Now.

Give me the codes, Natalya.
Give them to me.

-Can Boris break your codes?
-Possibly.

Possibly?

We have to destroy the transmitter.

By the way, I'm fine,
thank you very much!

Do you know how to use one of these?

Yes.

Good. Stay out of sight.

-How long?
-Two minutes.

-One minute.
-Guard.

-I'm fixing it.
-If he moves, kill him.

Yes. I am invincible.

You know, James?

I was always better.

Alpha One to Gunship.

Alpha One to Gunship.

Speak to me.

For England, James?

No.

For me.

Yes. I am invincible.

James. James. Are you all right?

Yes, I'm fine. Thank you.

Suppose someone is watching?

There's no one within 25 miles,
believe me.

Yo, Jimbo.

Is this supposed to be your idea
of "coming through in a clinch"?

It's tobacco plants.

I said I'd be here, huh?

Yo. Marines.

Maybe you two'd like to finish debriefing
each other at Guantanamo?

-Ready?
-I'm not going on a helicopter with you.

No plane, no train, nothing that moves.

Darling, what could
possibly go wrong, hey?