Original subtitles

(Distant rock music)

♪

Man: ♪ ooh, baby, baby, baby,

♪ why you want to treat me this way? ♪

(Man yelling joyously)

Whoo!

(Giggles)

Come on, darlin'.

♪ Said, "no huggin', no kissin' ♪

♪ until I get a wedding vow."

♪ My honey, my baby,

♪ don't put my love upon no shelf. ♪

♪ She said, "don't hand me no lines, ♪

♪ and keep your hands to yourself." ♪

(Woman giggling)

(Laughter)

Close the door.

What?

Close the door.

(Laughs)

♪ You see, I wanted her real bad, ♪

♪ and I was about to give in.

♪ That's when she started talking about true love, ♪

♪ started talking about sin.

♪ I said, "Honey, I'll live with you ♪

♪ for the rest of my life. ♪

Hey, now, come on.

We got to get going. Duty calls.

Ah, had all you can handle for one night, huh?

I never have enough of you, darlin'.

You know that.

Hey, think this place has got a breakfast deal?

This place? Sure.

Just bang on the wall.

I'm sure you'll get something.

Yeah, now, now, don't knock it.

It's got cable TV, and the price is right.

Uh-huh, and it's 30 miles from base.

Come on.

You know it wouldn't do either of us any good

if they knew I was poking my right-hand man.

Oh, is that what you're doing?

Uh, what I mean is,

we function professionally first.

Look, it violates PRP.

You think nobody knows about us?

Yeah, well,

whatever.

Look, it's just best if we keep an official distance.

That's all.

Mm-hmm, the problem is,

your official distance starts

the minute we get out of bed.

I don't need that.

Oh, now, come on, Moreau, darlin'.

You know you're the only irresistible thing in my life.

Cut me some slack, will you?

Come on, darlin'.

I'm calling a cab.

Now, that's dumb.

Why?

You wouldn't want them

to see you dropping me off, would you?

It might violate PRP.

Erzurum Control.

Descend 35,000.

Contact Istanbul Control.

Woman: Alitalia 1-0-1, Erzurum Control.

New heading, turn left to 2-3-0 degrees.

Man: (Over radio) Alitalia 1-0-1, understand.

Turning left into heading 2-3-0.

(Ominous music)

(Radar beeps)

Woman: Chief Supervisor, please.

I have an unidentified aircraft.

No Mode C identification.

(Gate buzzes)

(Electronic beeping)

We have an ID yet on the missile?

Not at this time, sir.

We're just beginning to get a line plot.

We have a preliminary missile trajectory moving

north-northeast from Turkey to the Soviet border, sir.

Check our bases, Europe satellite launches,

and call NASA.

Yes, sir.

Moving your alert status to Snow Man.

(Electronic zapping)

(Explosion)

Man: That's all.

Woman: Isn't that nice?

Hey.

Hey, Cindy, congratulations.

Thank you.

How was the wedding?

It was great.

Thanks, it was great.

Oh, you got to see these pictures, Captain.

Cindy: I mean, we've been planning this thing for six months now.

We get everybody in from out of town,

and what happens?

I pull a week on alert duty

starting on our honeymoon.

They do that to you on purpose, Captain.

Should have kept quiet about the wedding.

Moreau: Hooker's right, you know.

You'd have kept your mouth shut, you'd be sitting

in Waikiki right now in a hotel room.

Wait a second; If we were in a hotel room right now,

I don't think we'd be sitting.

(Laughter)

All our missiles are accounted for, sir.

The Europeans report no launches.

This makes no sense.

I want a systems malfunction check.

I have checked, sir.

The target could be anywhere in that triangle, sir.

Every damn target's in the Soviet Union.

(Beeping)

Woman: Oh, my God!

(Buzzer buzzing)

Man: Sir!

We have a nuclear detonation in the Soviet Union.

I want absolute verification.

Man: Come on, move, move, let's go!

Cindy: Oh, hey!

Hey, hey, look who's here.

Cindy: Hi, Timmy.

Congratulations.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Crash and burnin', the whole scenario.

So how's married life?

Well, I'm getting used to it.

Marriage is great, Rad,

but you got to have one of these.

I'm not so sure.

Sir, a Soviet nuclear response is in progress.

We have positive verification.

Get me General Renning on the double.

Yes, sir.

And change the alert code to Cocked Pistol.

Yes, sir.

Man: We're on Cocked Pistol.

Hey, Laurie, how's it going?

Hey, missed you last night.

So how was Hopalong Cassidy?

Oh, God.

He's starting to drive me crazy, you know?

I mean, he's so in love with himself.

Sometimes I feel like I'm intruding.

Well, he's a pilot.

What else is new?

Hey, that's bogus.

You know, we're all pilots.

Yeah, but we're not guys.

All targets appear to be within

the continental United States, Alaska, and Hawaii.

I'm putting us on combat footing.

We're going from preliminary attack conference

to attack conference,

and I want the Psy-Op computer options on this now.

Yes, sir.

(Phone ringing)

Yes?

Woman: (over phone) Mr. President?

I have General Renning for you.

Fine, put him through.

Sir, we are facing an extremely serious situation.

I have asked for full attack conference,

and on my authority,

we're moving from Cocked Pistol to Round House.

Is your EWO there, sir?

Where's the Secretary of Defense?

Why isn't he making this call?

We've been unable to reach him.

You'll need your emergency War Order officer, sir.

We need the codes, Mr. President.

So, Major, what's going on with you and Captain Moreau?

I don't know.

She's okay.

She's... great, as a matter of fact.

But she is an Air Force brat.

I don't know.

I got a lot of respect for her.

Think she's a damn good pilot.

Yeah, well, just do yourself a favor

and never sleep with an officer.

Man: Mr. President, an unidentified missile,

origin Turkey, detonated over Soviet Donetsk

at 0530 Zulu.

It was not fired by U.S. forces.

The Soviets have chosen to launch a strike against us.

There has to be a mistake.

Turkey's NATO.

We certainly wouldn't fire a missile at the Soviet Union.

Now, who the hell did?

We don't know, sir.

It could have been stolen.

It could have been a trick.

How do you say?

Our relations couldn't possibly be better.

Sir, I know it's hard to believe.

Nevertheless, we are in the secondary stages

of a Soviet counter force strike.

Our computers show random attack by Russian submarines,

swarm attack by land-based ICBMs.

We need your authority, sir.

We need the codes, Mr. President.

We are under attack.

This is Pearl harbor.

Man: Throw me a towel, would ya?

Hey, O'Toole, are you in here again?

How was the honeymoon, man?

A little short, but sweet.

She as good for you as she was for me?

Come here, you prick.

Snap!

You son of a bitch.

Whoa.

(Laughs)

Get me the Soviet president, the Secretary of State,

and my national security advisor here as soon as possible.

There's no time for that, sir.

General, I will not make a decision

of this magnitude without...

You don't have to. Psy-Op has anticipated this.

We need your authority for the codes, Mr. President.

No, General.

This is my responsibility.

I will not act precipitously

on the basis of some goddamn computer!

The goddamn computer will be destroyed in 21 minutes, sir,

along with everyone here.

Mr. President?

Message coming in on direct teletype

from the Soviet president.

We'll take that.

Did you hear that, General?

Yes, sir, I did.

(Whispers indistinctly)

I also show a submarine-launched missile.

Directed vicinity: Washington, DC.

Arriving in less than seven minutes, sir.

General, I'm going to read that message.

Renning: Sir, impact in less than six minutes.

You're wasting time, sir... your own.

I'll call you back, General.

Sedgewicke.

Get me Alice in the Looking Glass plane.

Yes, sir.

Time for you to go, Admiral.

Sir, are we absolutely certain about this?

We have to have at least two command planes

in the air at the same time.

The Navy doesn't like to abandon ship, General.

This is my ship.

Yours is the E-4.

Admiral, are you waiting for me to order you to go?

No, sir.

Goodbye, sir.

Man 1: General, I have Alice on the Looking Glass plane.

Man 2: Got a contact with Looking Glass.

Alice, Harpoon is launched.

The alert truck will be waiting outside, sir.

Good luck, son.

Shove it up their commie asses, sir.

Renning: Alice?

Alice: Yes, sir.

You have your battle plans

and missile impact projections?

Clear as a bell, sir.

Print 'em out.

You won't have computers much longer.

We've taken care of it, sir.

(Quietly) I know.

I'll try to check back in with you again shortly.

My clock says SAC goes in 19 minutes.

We'll be here, General.

(Typewriter clacking)

Man: "Mr. President,

"by now you will know a nuclear device was detonated

"over the Soviet city of Donetsk.

The missile was launched

"by NATO forces from Turkey,

"and our defensive system retaliated automatically.

"We now realize the first missile was launched

"by dissident members of our own military who feared

"our vastly improved relations and who conspired to overthrow

this government and force war between our two countries."

(Loud buzzing)

(People shouting)

"Our missiles are targeted for your long-range bomber bases

"and ICBM complex in Montana,

"the NORAD facility at Cheyenne Mountain,

"and the SAC command at Omaha.

"A single warhead is directed at Andrews Air Force base.

"The target is symbolic, as this is the base

"from which you would leave Washington.

"To be blunt, Mr. President, you now have three choices.

Accept the damage, and we will stop."

(Sirens wailing)

"Your second choice is to respond

"with a limited counterattack

"that inflicts on my nation a similar amount of damage.

"We will each lose between 6 and 9 million people

"in such an attack.

This is acceptable to us."

Woman: Get your hands off me!

Man: Get some hustle in there, gang!

Come on, let's go!

Man: "I realize this

"is a tremendous price to pay, and I know all too well

"the enormous military and political pressure

"you will be under to take your third option:

To respond massively."

Grab a start. Battery on.

Man: "if this is your ultimate decision,

"I will have no choice but to reply

with total nuclear commitment."

Did you forget your towel, Lieutenant?

These fucking drills.

Man: "I urge you look at the tremendous gains

"we have made in the last few years.

"Let us not allow human error and the technology

of the cold war to destroy our hopes and our world."

Start all engines.

Start all engines.

(Engines whirring)

Good start; All engines.

Generators all engines.

We're now on internal power; Cleared checks.

Come on, come on, let's go.

Come on, O'Toole.

Let's go; Let's go!

Major O'Toole's soaking wet, sir.

(Scoffs) That's for goddamn sure.

We'll send Moreau to dry him off

soon as the drill's over.

I know you think it's real every time the siren goes off,

but let's just get this over and get O'Toole out of here.

Yeah, you better think it's real, Angel.

It's simpler that way.

Man: (Over radio) Sky King, Sky King, this is Cable Car.

Stand by to copy your red dot five message.

Message is: Alpha, Golf, Hotel, India, Delta.

Authentication time

is 2-0-0-6-0-5 Zulu.

Authentication is Sierra, Foxtrot.

I say again, Sky King, Sky King, this is Cable Car.

All right, gang, what's the drill?

Do I shut 'em down, or what?

Pilot, ew.

This is a valid, I repeat,

valid launch message.

Radar,

copilot, verify.

Pilot, radar.

That's valid.

Moreau: Roger, confirm.

It's a valid launch message.

Prepare for scramble takeoff.

Copilot ready?

Copilot ready!

Ready.

Navigator ready?

Ready.

Sir, you have less than two minutes

before Andrews is hit.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

President: Yes, I do.

General, I want a response

designed as closely as possible to the Soviet attack.

Now, under no circumstances

are their losses to exceed ours.

Do you understand?

Renning: Sir, we believe the Soviet president

is out of position

and their military are running things now.

You are being conned

on a level unprecedented in human history.

General, I will hear no more of this!

Now, you instruct the computer.

At the appropriate time, I will activate the codes

through the proper civilian authorities

as the law stipulates.

(Jet engines whooshing)

Moreau: I have code Trinity.

That's a match, Captain.

Moreau: Code Trinity.

Code Trinity.

Moreau: "Strike assigned targets if not recalled

prior to positive control point.

All right, you heard it.

Any questions?

Any jokes?

Any prayers?

(Eerie, high-pitched tone)

(Explosion)

(Glass breaking)

(Wind blowing)

Mr. President, are you all right?

Man 1: Reestablish contact with SAC, I mean now!

Man 2: Yes, sir, all right!

(Quietly) Is everyone all right here?

Danny, you all right?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Mr. President.

(Phone rings)

Where do you think they hit us?

I don't know.

Sounded like northwest of here,

not at Andrews.

What kind of damage are we talking about?

(Phone rings)

This time of night?

I'd say 50,000 people just died.

(Phone rings)

Situation room.

Omaha's back, sir.

The White House, sir.

Sir.

General, I'm putting you on a speaker.

(Phone clicks)

Renning: They overshot Andrews by 13 miles, sir.

The blast wave rolled up Rock Creek Park

and took out Walter Reed hospital.

My father was there.

(Phone rings)

I'm truly sorry, General.

A father should die before his son.

Anyway, the hospital wasn't a target.

You were.

You're lucky, Mr. President.

You get what I won't: A second chance.

I don't follow you, General.

Sir, this is just for openers.

They'll go for our bases with their missiles

and destroy our offensive capability.

Then they'll mop up our cities with their bombers.

You get a second chance

to save the world from those bastards.

(Buzzing)

Shit.

Draw your curtain, Moreau.

Negative.

I'm not pulling my curtain.

Close your damn curtain, or I'll close it for you!

Negative, there's too much commercial traffic

out there, Cassidy.

I'm not pulling my curtain!

Aw, hell.

(Moreau whispers) You son of a bitch.

(Eerie, high-pitched tone)

(Static)

Tyler, what the hell was that?

I don't know.

(Eerie, high-pitched tone)

Major?

Major? Major?

What the hell was that?

Major?

Knock it off, everybody!

(Whispers) Jesus.

Moreau?

Oh, God.

My eye.

I-I-I can't see out of this eye.

Moreau, I need you now.

Now, come on, darlin',

pull yourself together.

- Major! - Cassidy: Shock wave!

Oh, shit!

Shock wave! Brace!

(Panting)

(Rumbling)

(Glass breaking)

O'Toole!

Lieutenant!

Major! Lieutenant O'Toole's hurt!

Hooker, stay in your seat.

10... 11... 12...

Nose down.

We're going to stall damn it.

Cassidy: We got to get her up!

Moreau: Gauges malfunctioning.

We're going to stall, Cassidy!

No way; No way!

We're going to stall.

Give me the airplane!

Cassidy, we're going to stall.

Give me the fuckin' airplane!

(Buzzer sounding continuously)

(Buzzer ceases)

Darlin', I owe you one.

Major?

O'Toole's dead.

(Quietly) What?

The shock wave threw him into the instrument panel.

He didn't have his harness on.

I think he broke his neck.

(Quietly) Shit.

Radar,

Gunner, what's our status?

Um, I've, uh... I've got one detonation

at 6:00, 10 miles.

And I've got one, 15 miles dead ahead.

Uh, Fairchild is gone, sir.

The base is totally destroyed.

Negative, I don't show that.

Nothing happened to the base.

It's still there.

What the hell's going on with Tyler?

He can see Fairchild's gone.

Tyler doesn't have much to go home to now.

Man 1: I need the President now!

Man 2: He's on the line with Renning.

General, don't you consider it possible

that the Soviet president was sincere?

I believe he is.

Mr. President, as God is my witness,

it makes no difference.

The Chinese, in accordance with our treaty,

have hit the Russians on their border.

We can't even tell whether the Soviet president

is still in control.

All communications to the Soviet Union

are down, sir.

What does Psy-Op suggest?

A two-part sequence:

Launch half our ICBMs targeting Russian silos.

Their computer would be hard-pressed to tell

which of our silos are empty and which are hit.

How will the Soviets respond in this scenario?

We cannot read what we must assume

is extreme political confusion in Moscow at this moment.

President: Well, what do our computers say?

Renning: In a politically normal situation,

our computer would predict

they would launch their ICBMs, massively.

President: At what targets?

Renning: All our bases, military targets.

And cities?

Some, more than likely.

(Quietly) Excuse me, sir.

(Whispers indistinctly)

(Anxiously) Mr. President.

Mr. President, the Soviets have initiated a second launch.

Launch?

At us?

We can't tell.

Are you suggesting we wait?

This facility, SAC,

goes in three minutes.

If we don't hit them hard and hit them now,

we may never get a second chance.

(Whispers) Sir.

I repeat!

There is a second Soviet launch!

(Quietly) Mr. President, we have to get you out of here.

Please, sir.

(Bell tolls)

I'll go with the computer.

We will launch according to procedure.

(Ominous music)

(Quietly) Tom, do you think the president was sincere?

Mr. President, please don't torture yourself.

We have to leave immediately.

Tell me, do you think he was sincere, Tom?

Please, sir.

(Phone rings)

General, I have the authenticator card.

Day word: Cottonmouth.

Command word: Trinity.

Action word: Jericho.

You got it?

Yeah, I got him.

Okay, I got him; I got him.

Moreau: Nav, Copilot,

are we still on course for our positive control point?

I'm not really sure where we are, Captain.

Hey, Tyler, check your INS coordinates

and your heading right there, man.

(Angrily) Hey, you do your job,

Radnor, and I'll do mine, all right?

Cassidy: All right, everybody, listen up.

We're all under EWO, emergency war orders,

is that understood?

We got a mission to complete.

We are EWO!

Am I reaching you hamheads?

We will proceed to our positive control point

and hold for orders.

Let's get these curtains open.

Hey, Major, how about turning on the heater?

Well, Tyler, glad you could join us.

Hey, Hooks?

You think you can handle O'Toole's toys for us?

I think I can handle it.

Well, congratulations.

I've just received

the first battlefield commission of this war

or whatever the hell this thing is.

I'll take the job, Major.

You can keep the bars.

(Helicopter whirring and sirens wailing)

Sedgewicke: Stay down, Mr. President!

(Indistinct yelling)

Mr. President, two shots have been fired.

Now we're going to run to the chopper.

President: Where are the shots coming from? Just people, sir.

Sedgewicke: You've got the last train out of town, sir.

(Distant explosion)

(Many people yelling at once)

Man: He's in; He's in.

(Distant explosion)

Renning: Harpoon, I don't know

if the President will reach Andrews.

All our military bases are being hit.

Who's available to succeed?

Harpoon: General, the Vice President and most of the Cabinet

live in northwest Washington.

We've been unable to contact them.

The only one that we're sure of

is the Secretary of the Interior.

He was inspecting a wilderness preserve

near Baton Rouge.

Redding: The FBI out looking for him?

And the army.

E-4's two hours from touchdown in Baton Rouge.

Alice, you're reading our new target projections

in the Soviet Union?

I got everything I need, sir.

(Quietly) And our current impact areas in the U.S.?

Yes, sir.

Well, I've done about all I can.

You and Harpoon take it from here.

(Whispers) Old buddy?

Yeah, Clay?

Happy hunting.

(Static)

Sir, we can't make it to Andrews; It's not safe.

I thought they missed Andrews.

That's correct, sir, but we can't get a plane in.

We're going to try for Dover.

Mr. President, the second Soviet launch...

We were mistaken.

It was directed against the Chinese,

not at us.

So by launching at the Soviets, we've kicked things up a level.

It looks that way.

The, uh, Soviets have started to kick us back now.

So it looks like we've entered another level of escalation.

Tom, I've got to turn this thing off!

Can you reach a command plane?

We can try, sir.

(Eerie, high-pitched tone)

Man: Mayday, mayday!

(Indistinct yelling)

(Tuning radio)

(Country music playing)

Man: ♪ you came from New York City, ♪

♪ and I want to see the sights. ♪

What the hell is that?

♪ You heard all about those cowboys ♪

♪ and them crazy Texas nights. ♪

It's Conway Twitty.

Tyler's picked up a civilian radio station.

Tyler!

Turn that damn thing off!

Well, all right. (Laughs)

You hear that music, Major?

That's life down there, sir.

This whole thing's simulated.

(Laughs) It's a drill.

I mean, it's pretty convincing, but...

(Laughs) I knew you guys were jerking me.

Tyler, damn you.

Major, quit worrying. It's a drill.

Who gives a shit?

♪ You won't be satisfied,

♪ so don't call him a cowboy.

Tyler, they're dead.

(Laughing hysterically)

Everybody, you got that? They're dead!

You're still alive; You've got a job to do.

So turn off the fucking radio and do it.

♪ In his French designer blue jeans. ♪

Way to warm him up, Cassidy.

I don't need that from you.

(Radio snaps off)

(People talking)

Sam: Only the very low frequency

seems to be working consistently.

Of the other systems on board,

two or three work off and on; The rest are still down.

What's with Harpoon?

Did he pick up the Secretary of Interior yet?

Touched down five minutes ago,

but it was a damn risky landing.

I don't know if I would have taken the chance, General.

We had to, Sam.

The President's chopper

is confirmed down.

We need a civilian leader,

and he's next in the line of succession.

Sir, we don't know who else is still alive.

We're not even sure Harpoon is after the right guy.

What are we sure of?

What's with the B-52s?

Well, the last we knew,

15 of 'em were still flying, sir.

Only half of them airborne refueled.

(Lighter flicks)

Smoking again, sir?

(Lighter snaps)

Man: All right, let's go; Let's go!

(Distant explosions)

(Siren wailing)

(People shouting)

Eagle One, we have the Secretary of Interior.

(Dramatic music)

♪

Man 1: Mr. Secretary, I'm just warning you.

Yes, sir.

Man 2: Mr. President.

Barely, just barely.

Any injured, sir?

You need assistance?

No, no, no, no, no.

Just get the Secret Service aboard

so we can get our ass out of here

before the whole state of Louisiana rushes in.

Please follow me, sir.

Mr. President, Harpoon.

I'm sorry that the band won't be playing

Hail to the Chief, sir.

(Wearily) Yeah. Follow me.

How... how bad is it?

Well, under the circumstances,

it can't be very good, can it, sir?

Are... are we losing the war?

Well, I'm not sure that that's the issue, Mr. President.

You'll need to be briefed.

I'll tell you what, Radnor.

I hate this job.

I just want to get my MBA, man, and I'm out of here.

Back to a nice, quiet, sane life.

I can't handle these war games anymore.

Okay, mission briefing. Yakutsk.

Targets.

Targets.

Cassidy: Come on, Tyler.

You with us, guy?

Uh, satellite tracking station,

heavy industry,

electronics.

Civilian population?

(Shouting) Tyler, Russians, how many?

Uh, just under a million, sir.

All right, Tyler, that's good.

Just hang in there, buddy.

Yakutsk gets one megaton,

ground verse, low level,

departing initial point inbound to target.

Roger, inbound to target, heading 2-3-0,

altitude 500 feet above ground level.

Release air speed,

385 knots.

Bomb release two-zero seconds from my hack.

Ready?

Ready, hack.

Two-zero seconds to bomb release.

Escape heading straight through 2-3-0 degrees.

Okay.

Straight down Karl Marx street.

Ten seconds.

(Clock ticking)

And five, four, three, two, one.

And bomb away.

Moreau: Pushing over.

Leveling at 500 feet; Tail to the blast.

Bye-bye, Yakutsk.

Bye-bye, little mamushkas.

Drill complete.

Good practice run, guys.

We're on time.

Uh, sir, we're now 75 miles from our positive control point.

You think it's going to be that easy on a real city?

Yeah.

No problem.

Moreau, I'm going to tell you something.

You're a damn good pilot.

One of the best I've had in that right seat.

I never thought you would fuck up mentally or physically,

but you are fucking up right now.

(Fire crackling)

(Ominous music)

♪

Tom: No, don't go.

Please, I've got the President here!

Please!

Harpoon: So far, it appears that the Soviet attacks

have been limited to our military installations,

and wherever they border population centers,

I assume that we have suffered considerable causalities.

Have they hit our cities yet?

No, sir.

Communications are down, reports are hard to get,

but, apparently, it has been a rather even exchange.

Even, so far.

Now, Mr. President, we have to make a decision very soon.

Our bombers will be here

at their positive control points.

Now, if they are sent in, they will reach

their target areas in four to six hours.

Why haven't they been sent in already?

Sir, if we don't turn this thing off, in a few hours,

Soviet bombers will be roaming through this country

taking out our cities.

Man: Uh, Admiral...

Excuse me, sir, if I may.

Mr. President, I'm Colonel Fargo.

What do you do around here?

Soviet capabilities expert, sir.

I see.

It may be that the admiral is overestimating the enemy.

Most Soviet bombers are so old, they still have propellers.

The Minnesota Air National Guard could probably knock 'em down.

Harpoon: Well, do you want to get on the telephone

and order them into the air, Colonel?

Because every transistor in Minnesota is burned out.

Now, Mr. President, we won't be able to stop

half of those Soviet bombers.

They will destroy our cities at will.

And we'll send our bombers over there

and do the same thing to them.

Most of ours were caught on the ground, sir.

Are you telling me that they hit more of our installations

than we hit theirs?

Sir, you have to realize, this is not the kind of war

where you can add up the score to see who wins.

Believe me, mister, winning is everything.

I agree, Mr. President.

Up to now, you haven't gotten the whole picture.

In a minute, Colonel.

What about our subs?

How many warheads we got down there?

Harpoon: Almost 6,000, sir.

6,000 nuclear warheads.

Yes, sir.

Well, shouldn't we launch them

before their bombers hit our cities?

Our submarines are automatically issued sailing orders

instructing them to run with their radios off

so that they cannot be tracked.

Now, in about seven hours, they will surface

and listen for new orders.

If they hear nothing, they'll fire.

Why wait seven hours?

A missile hits its target in 30 minutes,

but the bombers require

nearly eight hours to hit theirs

so that the bombers are slow, natural pauses

giving you and the Soviet president

time to turn off this war.

Now, sir, you have a copy

of his message in your folder, sir.

He offers to accept an equal amount of damage

to the Soviet Union.

Condor: Oh, yes, I see that.

And we're supposed to just take his word for it, huh?

Fargo: Mr. President?

Historical fact.

The Soviets have always been willing

to accept massive losses to achieve victory.

Harpoon: Colonel, this isn't the 1950s.

They're not looking for new worlds to conquer anymore.

Mr. President,

I have a very hard time believing that the Soviets

want this war any more than we do.

(Exhales) Phew.

Recall some of our bombers

and see how the Soviets respond.

(Quietly) Well, I...

Fargo: Mr. President, there is another solution.

Cut the head off the chicken.

Hey, Rad?

Radnor.

(Quietly) What?

I'll say it happened, okay?

(Crying)

I will. I'll say it happened.

But, uh, you got to meet me halfway on this, okay?

Huh?

What do you say, buddy?

Just meet me halfway on this.

Shut up.

Just meet me halfway, Radnor.

It happened, okay?

But not to Timmy, okay?

It happened to Annie,

but it didn't happen to Timmy, okay?

'Cause I'd never just...

I never said goodbye to them, Radnor.

(Tyler breathing deeply and sobbing)

Hey, Tyler?

How you doing down there, buddy?

(Shouts)

Oh, shit.

Uh, hang on here.

We got bogies, 12:00.

Bogies, my ass.

Them's bandits.

(Engines screaming)

Distance, velocity?

Radnor: 30 miles and faster.

Closing very fast. We have two...

Correction, we got three bandits.

Equipment and systems check.

Jam it... decoys, chaff.

We'd better look like an armada.

Hooker: Chaff and flares released, sir.

Radnor: 25 miles.

20 miles.

Must be Foxbats. Specs?

Top speed on a MIG 25: Mach 2.8.

Range: 1,500 miles one way.

15 miles.

Armaments?

Moreau: Two heat-seeking missiles,

range, 10 miles.

Two radar-guided missiles, range 15 miles.

They'll use both. No cannon armaments.

Ten miles.

(Missiles roaring)

Radnor: Missiles launched.

We have two missiles launched.

Deploy decoys and chaff.

Shovel that stuff like hay, Hooks.

You got it, Major.

Moreau: They're going to the decoys.

All right!

Two missiles down, Major.

Hey, hang on to your shorts, ace.

Breaking right, coming around to our rear.

Moreau: Still got more missiles out there.

I know. Are you with me?

You bet.

Taking her down low.

Fargo: "The most powerful enemy can be defeated

"only by the utmost effort

and by seizing every opportunity."

Lenin said that, sir.

The Soviets live by it.

And I believe if we call back our bombers,

the Soviets would simply see this as a sign of weakness.

That's a dangerous speculation, Colonel.

No, let him finish, please.

Sir.

May I go to the map, sir?

Condor: Yes, of course.

Sir, these red dots represent Soviet leadership bunkers.

Inside, you'll find the party hierarchy.

The presidium, the KGB, the president himself.

They are the head of the communist body.

You cut off that head, and the body dies.

Sir, they've got a massive arsenal over there,

and we don't know whose finger's on that button.

We can order our B-52s on a grand tour

of the Soviet Union.

This is madness, sir.

Yeah, we got madness piled on madness tonight.

Colonel, tell us,

what would you do about the Soviet bombers?

Recalling our bombers won't stop them, sir.

Sir, we have some fighters left.

We have thousands of commercial jets.

We can ram their bombers.

Harpoon: You're joking.

Is that possible?

Sir, there is no defense against this stuff.

They have over 300 bombers, and what about their ICBMs?

Fargo: You take out these red dots,

there won't be anyone left to fire the ICBMs.

Sir, we are wasting time here.

Use the pause.

Settle things down.

The best defense:

Cut off the head of the Soviet chicken.

Harry Truman said he felt like a bale of hay landed on him.

I feel like I got the whole damn barn.

I need a moment alone.

(Jet engines whooshing)

We are coming up to the next turn point.

New heading will be 2-2-5.

Note mountainous terrain after the turn point.

Roger that.

(Jet engines screaming)

(Quietly) Come on.

Come on, you bastards.

(Electronic beeping and buzzing)

(Gunfire)

Motherfucker!

(Gunfire)

(Explosion)

Yeah, I got one!

I got you, you son of a bitch!

(Jet engines screaming)

Moreau: 100 feet.

Cassidy: Too low, too low. Coming up; Coming up.

How you doing down there, guys?

We're still online here.

You have significant terrain, 10:00.

High terrain seven miles dead ahead.

We still got bandits.

Six miles and closing.

They close a couple more miles,

all they got to do is stay clear of Hooker's guns.

Yeah, I don't think they're too scared.

How 'bout I put this hawk into a loop,

come back on top of 'em?

Maybe they'll all die of heart attacks.

Uh-huh, and our wings would snap right off.

Radnor: High terrain five miles ahead.

Cassidy: Damn it, we got all the percentages.

Radar, copilot.

Arm the first bomb. Arm bomb one.

Are you nuts?

High terrain ahead, right?

We drop the bomb this side of the ridge.

We get to the other side of the ridge,

the ridge'll shield us from the blast.

Arm bomb one, damn it!

Moreau, you're too damn smart to die so young.

Hey, Hooker, are the bandits flying in formation?

They're coming fast, sir.

Are they flying in goddamn formation?

Hooker: Yes, sir!

Cassidy: Okay, you guardians of democracy.

Our copilot's just come up with a real winner.

(Crickets chirping)

Ugh, ugh.

Don't do that.

My son says you got the President down here.

Got to get the President to a military hospital

with a radio.

Radar, Pilot, arm bomb one.

Manual release on my hack.

You have nuclear consent.

Radnor: Roger.

Armed manual release sequence, standing by your hack.

5.5 miles and closing.

Moreau: We'll be over the ridge in 40 seconds.

Let's close 'em.

Moreau: 30 seconds.

Cassidy: And five, four, three, two, one.

Hack.

Radnor: Hack, 30 seconds to detonation.

Cassidy: Bomb away.

Manual release; Bomb away.

(Clock ticking)

Plus 15 seconds.

Bandits five miles and closing.

Plus 25.

(Clock ticking)

Plus 30 seconds.

Come on, baby, come on.

Oh, shit, it's a dud.

We got a load of fucking duds.

Cassidy: Come on, darlin'.

(Static)

Detonation!

Yeah, all right, all right!

Watches?

Plus 40 seconds.

Cassidy: Bandits?

Plus 45 seconds.

Tyler, bandits, bandits.

Does anybody get through?

Plus 50 seconds.

(Rumbling and shrieking)

Friendly little kick in the butt, huh?

Still no bandits?

(Static)

Nothing came through that, Major.

Cassidy, what are you doing?

I'm going to take a look.

Negative, I don't want to see it.

Take the plane, Captain.

I've got it, Pilot.

(People talking and yelling at once)

(Sirens wailing)

Man: Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you'll have to hold it right there.

Woman: We brought in the President of the United States.

Look, ma'am, I don't have time for this right now.

Come on, boy, show him; Show him.

Officer! Let's get this man inside!

(Exhales)

(Door opens)

Mr. President.

Harpoon, do you think I'm scared?

You were a few minutes ago, sir.

I hope you are now.

Yeah, yeah, I'm scared.

I'm scared of losing.

We're going with the grand tour.

Sir.

History can't wait.

I hope there will be a history to hear you.

Where are you going?

To my quarters, sir.

Fargo: Admiral?

Sir, aren't you forgetting something?

The card.

You'll need this.

Orders to the bombers

go through the Looking Glass plane.

And the code at the top proves that you're authentic.

The colonel will give you the word code.

Did you really forget to give me this?

I'm not really sure, sir.

Good luck.

Condor: Thank you.

I think I'm going to need it.

Yes, we'll all need it tonight.

(People coughing and moaning)

Woman: The President's legs are crushed.

This man has a compound fracture of the arm and head injuries.

Could we get more ice, please?

(President moaning)

Just relax, Mr. President.

You'll feel better in a minute.

What's with the IV?

Lactated ringers, two milligrams of morphine.

Give him two more milligrams.

No morphine.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Take it easy.

You'll be okay, soldier.

(Phone rings)

Alice here.

Condor: Condor speaking.

E-4. Day word?

Cottonmouth.

- Command word? - Trinity.

- Action word? - Jericho.

Do you have your card, sir?

I do.

Upper right-hand corner.

Please read the last three digits.

7, C, 2.

Alice: C for what, sir?

- Condor: Charlie. - Second line from the top.

Please read middle sentence.

6, D, 6, 2.

D for what, sir?

Damn it.

Are all you people waiting on World War IV, Alice?

Wish to issue an order change, sir?

I sure as hell do.

Did Harpoon give you the signal code, sir?

He's temporarily incapacitated.

Uh...

Can I give you some advice, sir?

I'm getting plenty of that down here.

I'm sure you have, sir.

Um, the situation is fluid.

We've gotten our first coded messages from the ground.

Garbled, but coded.

That means we're getting our communications back.

Good, that's good news.

Now, I'm ordering 2-1-Zebra.

We're getting things back, sir.

I'd orbit and wait.

Well, then you orbit and wait. I have no time.

The Russians have too many missiles,

and the colonel says they're out of control.

Fargo?

With all due respect, sir,

I'd run this past Harpoon first.

Alice, implement 2-1-Zebra.

Yes, sir.

It'll take a few minutes, sir.

Are you stalling me, Alice?

No, sir, I have to hand-sort this.

New assignments, priorities.

We're saying too much, sir.

Alice,

get your tail moving, fast.

We got a 2-1-Zebra.

Jesus, you're kidding.

I wish the hell I was.

(Teletype clacking)

Captain.

So tell me what I already know.

Orbit, await orders.

Get the feeling we're going around in circles?

This is one circle I'm not sure we should complete.

You're not suggesting treason, are you, darlin'?

Why don't presidents have a personnel reliability program?

Aw, Jesus, don't get on that now.

Yeah, well, who the hell did this?

I bet you no president ever went through

our little reliability program.

You think the Politburo's got psychological screening

or whatever they call it?

None of 'em would have passed.

Yeah, it's hard to find perfect people.

None of us passed tonight.

You are getting philosophical in your sunset years, darlin'.

Hours.

Sunset hours.

(Teletype clacking)

Hooker: Major?

We've got another sat com message coming in.

Here come the orders to go back to Spokane.

(People yelling indistinctly)

(Baby crying)

(Phone rings)

This is Pit Stop 2.

Please identify.

(Man speaking foreign language)

Please speak English!

Get the boss on the double.

This is a priority channel.

You're required to identify yourself.

Man: I am Mata Sheytu, Chairman, Supreme Soviet.

The president must speak to your president

or surviving civilian leader.

What do you got, Hooks?

Message is 2-1-Zebra.

What the hell's 2-1-Zebra?

Damn it, Moreau, what's going on?

The grand tour.

What?

(Quietly) Jesus.

Precision bombing of political military infrastructure.

Target Soviet city of Cherepovetz.

Primary relocation site of Soviet President,

Chief of KGB, Minister of Defense,

Commanding General of Soviet rocket forces.

Leadership bunkers.

They want us to take out the big bananas.

I think somebody's gone bananas.

Request confirmation.

You just get promoted?

Request confirmation.

Do it, Hooks.

Yes, sir.

What the hell are you looking at?

You know what this means?

Yeah.

It means we don't have to drop a million tons of TNT

on a bunch of civilians.

Isn't that better, for God's sake?

You mean more satisfying?

Damn right.

Maybe it'll help get this thing over with faster.

Faster?

You do not kill the enemy's leaders!

You know that! They know that!

Somebody's got to be there to turn it off!

Confirmed two-one-zebra.

NCA code is Hen House.

Look up Hen House.

No.

What the hell do you want me to do?

Write my congressman?

- It won't make any difference. - I know.

Nothing's going to change. Somebody will do it!

Cherepovetz will go, along with the President and the generals.

- I know. - And New York, Koos Bay,

every goddamned thing in between.

I know, but I'm not going to do it.

I can't.

You can't?

I won't.

You'd have turned a Minuteman key without thinking.

They gave me time to think.

Damn you!

Hooker, get the hell out of here.

Yes, sir.

(Angrily) What am I supposed to do?

Shoot you?

Eject you? Put you down on the ice?

Turn the plane, Major.

That's what I want you to do.

(Pleadingly) Turn the plane.

Cyanide.

You got it?

You are relieved, Captain.

Get the hell out of here.

(Solemn music)

♪

(Choked up) Damn it, Moreau.

Don't leave me now.

So what's next?

God damn it, how the hell should I know?

We are at war, sir.

Under no circumstances will I supply you such information.

Man: I know your E-4 is flying.

Will you, for the sake of both our nations,

transmit the message to the E-4

informing your president that our president wishes

to communicate directly with him?

Look, mister, I don't know who you are,

and I will not supply strategic information

to any damn Russian.

This is the Soviet president.

With whom am I speaking?

You're doing good, champ.

Uh... we're not going in.

There's no purpose in it.

Yes, sir.

Tough down here, huh, guys?

My wife was a cop, Major.

I know, Rad.

She was a damn good one.

She protected us, Major.

I know.

You should be proud of her.

Who protected her?

I am emergency war order-ready, sir.

I know, Tyler.

We all were.

We've been EWO for a long time now.

Coward!

It's turned to shit, you coward!

(Yelling)

Coward! Coward!

(Yells)

(Clanging)

I'm sorry, Rad.

Yeah, I know.

I'll, uh... I'll take care of him.

Captain, this just came in.

- Excuse me, sir? - What?

One of our bombers turned, General.

Who turned?

Polar Bear 1. Turned southeasterly.

The data's been confirmed.

We have to inform Condor, sir.

Yeah?

Of course we do.

What was that all about?

Tyler and I had a little failure to communicate.

Uh-huh.

Hey, Ty, are you all right?

(Sarcastically) I have no injuries, Captain.

I am EWO-ready, and you're a cowardess.

(Heart monitor beeping)

(Baby crying)

(Whispering) Connie?

Please, take it easy, sir.

Tom: Sir?

It's me. It's me, Tom.

Tom, where are we?

FEMA bunker at Olney, sir.

(Quietly) What's the matter with me?

Your legs are broken, sir.

(Whispers) I can't see, Tom.

Sir, did you look at the blast?

Did you see the blast?

Does anyone have any idea what's going on out there?

Excuse me, sir.

Our preliminary data show

that it could have been much worse.

Most of the targets were military,

and a few cities were hit intentionally.

Who the hell are you?

Bascombe, sir.

Director, northeast region FEMA, retired army.

There is one more thing, sir.

About an hour ago, we received a rather, um, peculiar message

on the radio from the Soviet Union.

Uh, the speaker claimed to be the Soviet president.

Bascombe: Uh, excuse me, sir.

I talked to him.

I'm sure he was an imposter.

He wanted us to patch him through to the E-4.

Apparently, an alternate E-4 made its way out of Omaha

and picked up a presidential successor

in Baton Rouge.

(Quietly) Successor?

Everybody thinks you're dead, sir,

including the Soviet president.

The call was authentic.

Well, who's acting as president?

Apparently, the fate of the country is now in the hands of...

Secretary of the Interior, sir.

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

They got Alice in one plane and the Mad Hatter in the other.

What makes you so sure

you were not talking to the Soviet president?

He was too rude, sir.

He was far too rude for a national leader.

Rude?

You want to hear a national leader get rude?

What'd he say to you?

Bascombe: Well, sir, I...

Oh, for God's sake.

He said Bascombe couldn't find his ass

with both hands and a hunting dog.

(Laughs)

President: From what you just said,

I'd say you hung up on the Soviet president.

Get him back for me,

and quickly.

Yes, sir.

What is your state of readiness?

Speak, asshole. You ready?

Are you ready?

(Ominous music)

♪

Radnor: Uh, this is... this is strange, sir.

What is?

Well, I'm seeing more bandits,

but they just turned.

They're turning back, sir.

Cassidy: What's going on?

Moreau: You got me.

Cassidy: Better go down there and check it out.

Moreau: Roger.

Tyler!

Hooker: Tyler!

(Both grunting)

The heck is wrong with you, Tyler?

I wouldn't do it.

What are you doing? You got to take it easy.

Radnor: You got to stop this shit. You gotta cut it out.

Tyler, it takes...

(Air whooshing)

(Screaming)

No!

(Wind howling)

So, Alice, what do you do

when one of your crew goes gutless?

Alice: Condor, there are no precedents, sir.

Oh, the hell with precedents.

There's no precedence for anything tonight.

We send up interceptors and bring them down, sir.

You shoot 'em down?

First we try to force them to land, sir.

Condor, uh, sir, there's something you should know.

The Soviet ears are opening.

We're getting bits of messages from inside Russia.

Why wasn't I told about this?

We can't make much of it, sir,

but we can determine they are rattled,

just as we are.

- You think we're rattled? - Yes, sir.

I'll let you in on a little secret, Alice.

What rattles me most

are my own damn military geniuses.

In this one, sir, there are no military geniuses.

Really?

General. Captain.

He needs to know this, sir.

Excuse me, sir.

Shortly after Polar Bear 1 turned,

the Soviet bomber squadron following them also turned.

- Any others? - No, sir, just the one squadron.

(Wind whistling)

Moreau!

Moreau!

(Somber music)

♪

Breathe!

Breathe!

(Breathing heavily)

I'm going to take her down. We can get some air.

Well, sir, it could be that they're signaling

their willingness to stabilize at current levels.

Why don't you turn more bombers and see if they reciprocate?

No, you know how I read this one, Alice.

We have one deserter; They have a whole squadron.

First time we come out ahead tonight.

I read it differently, sir.

Turn the bombers.

See what happens.

You don't understand what's going on here, do you?

We stop now, we lose.

This president has the determination

to wage a nuclear war

until an acceptable outcome is achieved.

Acceptable to whom, sir?

Acceptable to me and the American people.

Now, you put another bomber on the Hen House, fast.

Did you get that?

I hear you, sir.

And you put out general orders to bring down Polar Bear 1.

Did you hear that?

Yes, sir.

Now, you don't sound convinced, General.

I don't believe I am, sir.

Mr. President, sir, we have the capability

to give the orders from here.

Fine, fine.

We can send the orders from here.

I suggest you do that, sir.

Am I hearing you correctly?

I believe you did.

General,

you're fired.

They'll shoot you for this, General.

Sam, old friend,

I should find such an angel of mercy.

(Panting)

Radnor?

Hooks?

They're gone.

(Whispers) Oh.

You okay?

(Exhales deeply)

How's our fuel?

(Exhales)

96,000 pounds.

(Scoffs) We're not going to get very far on that.

Yep.

Got any ideas?

(Chuckles)

Think we could make Bora-Bora?

Maybe we ought to face reality.

If we're lucky, reality's a firing squad.

And if we're unlucky?

Planet of the Apes, darlin'.

Remember 2-1-Zebra?

Did we do anything right?

We did what we had to do.

Did we do anything right?

- Man: (Over radio) Mr. President. - Sir.

You are aware that one of your bombers turned,

and in response, I turned a squadron of mine.

No, I was not aware of that, Mr. President.

But it certainly is reassuring news.

Unfortunately, Mr. President, the remainder

of both our bomber fleets continues to advance,

but this will be nothing compared to the devastation

from your submarine-based missiles.

I believe they operate

on a preprogrammed attack schedule, yes?

That is correct, sir.

Man: How much time before they launch?

President: I can assure you, Mr. President,

I'd tell you if I knew, but I have no idea.

Man: Mr. President,

my situation at this moment is most difficult.

You must be aware,

I will no longer be able to control my forces

if you are unable to control yours.

Well aware.

Can you give me one hour, Mr. President?

I'll try to turn those bombers around.

Man: I will do everything in my power,

but if the others here believe for an instant

that you are insincere,

I won't be able to give you two minutes.

Yes, yes, I understand that.

Destiny be with you, my friend.

And God with you, Mr. President.

Almost time for sunrise.

I don't know if I want to see it.

Be glad something's here we couldn't screw up.

I'm glad it's here.

I'm glad you're here.

(Somber music)

♪

(Snoring lightly)

Sam: General?

Yeah.

- Excuse me, sir. - What?

- The President is on the phone. - Condor.

No, sir, the President.

Alice here.

This is the President speaking.

Hold on.

Uh, hold on.

Day word.

I don't think we have time for that, General.

Give me that day word, or you're talking to yourself.

Day word: Cottonmouth.

Command word: Trinity.

Action word: Jericho.

Now you'll probably ask me for the authenticator codes, right?

Keep going; You're on a roll.

I don't have my authenticator cards, Alice,

and besides, I'm blind,

and I couldn't read the damn things if I did.

Without that card, I don't know who you are.

So what do we do now?

You want to quiz me on the Brooklyn Dodgers?

Betty Grable's measurements?

- I'm disconnecting. - Now, hold it, General.

This is the President of the United States.

We could play this by the book if you'd like

and blow the damn world to smithereens.

Now, is that what you want?

Now, look, I need a patch through to the E-4.

The Secretary of Interior thinks he's the President.

I need to talk to him fast.

It's about the submarines.

Do you understand?

Without those codes, the E-4 won't give you the time of day.

You can give me the goddamn codes!

Now, I need a patch through to the E-4. Will you do it?

I'm sorry, sir.

For God sakes, it's me, Charlie.

Look, we got to stop this damned thing now.

It's down to us.

Recall the bombers, Sam.

- What? - You heard me.

We have a new Commander in Chief.

Hey.

Hey, look down there.

(Jet engines roaring)

Well, these boys look serious.

I'd say real serious.

Man: (Over radio) Polar Bear 1, this is Red Fox 1

of USS Midway Pacific battle group on guard.

Jesus, we're famous.

That's us, pal.

We have NCA orders to escort you to a water landing and rescue

or shoot you down.

Polar Bear 1, do you understand?

Sorry, friend.

My partner here is afraid of sharks.

Polar Bear 1,

do you know what a Sidewinder'll do to your crate?

Moreau: Little short on humor.

Cassidy: Hey, sailor.

You want to say goodbye

to the lady on my right here first?

We don't want to do this, buddy.

President is on the line, sir.

Sir, I've turned the bombers,

but I cannot issue orders to the submarines.

The Air Force cannot give orders to the Navy.

Mr. President, the Navy has two TACAMO planes

for communicating to the subs:

One over the Atlantic, the other over the pacific.

They'll take orders only from the President, or his successor.

Sir, I must give you the authenticator codes.

(Phone rings)

Condor.

My God, is that what they call you?

I wouldn't stand for that if I was you, Mr. Secretary.

Mr. President?

I'm afraid the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

I'm told you've done a superb job in my absence,

and I congratulate you.

Now we must work together to take the next step.

The bombers have already been turned,

but we haven't much time.

You turned the bombers?

President: We must stop the submarines, and it's going to take the two of us.

We must give orders for a cease-fire

then we'll put what's left of our country

back on its feet.

The Russians have people trained to sound like the President.

Who is this?

Do you want me to give you the authenticator codes?

I certainly do.

Even if he gets the numbers right, you see,

they could have intercepted our communications by now.

The Russians may have the code.

Who the hell is this?

(Sighs)

This is the President.

Johnny...

The real President would do what's right for the country.

Shut up. Just shut up.

Two weeks ago, in a speech, I heard the President say,

"this is not the time to let down our guard

"when it comes to the Soviet Union.

Radical change brings chaos."

(Quietly) Oh, God.

Turn back our bombers?

Stop our subs?

No.

Never.

I must be talking to somebody else.

You know damn well who this is!

You're making a monumental mistake!

Man 1: (over radio) Red Fox 1, this is Midway CIC.

You are clear to engage and destroy Polar Bear 1.

- Man 2: (over radio) Roger that. - You going to eject?

I don't know.

But you jump. They'll pull you out.

Man 1: Lost you in the sun, Red Fox.

Man 2: I'm about 2:00.

You'll pick me up in a second.

Got to listen to the play-by-play.

You want a black hood?

Man 2: All right, let's not get a bloody nose.

Man 1: Okay, Red Fox 1, pull in tighter.

See 'em?

Man 2: Roger, 2, got 'em. Three miles.

Man 1: Okay, one, let's go for it.

- Tom? - Man 2: Two?

Man 1: Real shit duty, isn't it?

Man 2: Everything's shit duty today.

In we go, Red Fox 2.

Ha, those guys got a lot of heart.

Everybody's doing their duty today.

Man 3: (over radio) Mayday, mayday.

This is the Midway CIC.

Midway has been hit.

Man 4: (over radio) Holy hell, the carrier's been torpedoed.

Harpoon reporting, sir.

Yes, I've a question.

Who was authorized to issue new orders to the submarines?

Only you can issue orders to the subs

using the TACAMO planes.

And if someone counterfeited the codes

so that the orders appeared to come from me?

I don't see how they could.

What happens if the TACAMO planes

receive conflicting orders?

What's going on, sir?

Did Alice turn the B-52s?

I asked you a question, sir.

He did.

He turned them.

What did the Russian bombers do?

The Russian bombers turned in response, didn't they?

You can't even consider using the subs now.

Talk to me about conflicting orders.

The Soviets couldn't send us a clearer signal.

What they've given us, Admiral, is a clear military advantage.

Our subs against their remaining ICBMs.

No contest.

What happens if the TACAMO planes

get conflicting orders?

Your President asked you a question, sir!

If both sets of orders have the proper codes,

the planes will follow the original orders.

The subs will fire at 1400 Zulu.

Condor: That's all. You're dismissed.

This isn't about Russia anymore.

It's God's work you're destroying now.

You're dismissed, sir!

You...

Freeze! Freeze!

Go on, shoot. Shoot!

Bring down the plane!

Go ahead, please, shoot!

President: (over phone) How far from the E-4 are you?

Alice: 120 miles, sir.

There must be some other way.

I'm afraid not, sir.

If you can contact TACAMO planes,

you can bet E-4 can.

If the subs get conflicting orders,

they will fire as planned in one hour.

I don't know what to say, General, except thank you.

No thanks necessary, Mr. President.

Alice, will you call again before...?

Before we ram 'em, sure.

Here.

One of these?

These are girls' smokes, Sam.

My wife says they won't kill me as fast.

Red Fox 1,

you're not going to bring us down?

Man: (Over radio) What's the point? Our carrier's gone.

We got no place to land.

Not going to drag you down with us.

Why don't you tag along?

Palm trees, coconuts, native girls.

Uh, that's a negative, thanks.

We blew half our gas getting up here.

We'd be running on vapors long before we got to paradise.

Ain't that always the truth?

Say, Polar Bear?

Yeah, Red Fox.

Later, when we come paddling in,

you bring on those dancing girls, hear?

You bet, Red Fox.

Good luck.

(Buzzer sounding)

Turn that thing off.

You don't care about the radiation anymore, sir?

No, I don't.

What should we care about now?

Smitty, care about catching E-4.

Colonel, I show an aircraft less than 100 miles and closing.

You got an ID?

I believe it's the Looking Glass, sir.

What the hell are they doing there?

(Phone rings)

Yes, Fargo.

Damn.

Evade him.

(Thunder booming)

(Rumbling)

(Electrical zapping)

(Alarm whooping)

Fire in number five!

Shut it down!

(Alarm stops)

(Fire extinguisher whooshing)

Smitty: We got 'em on radar, sir.

Looks like we're both flying the same speed,

but they're dodging the hot clouds.

If we fly straight through, we should catch up pretty quick.

Gentleman, we must now regard the Looking Glass plane

as an enemy aircraft manned by treasonous men.

Flanders, I'll look to you to keep him off us.

No more flying around radioactive clouds, understood?

Yes, sir.

That'll be all, gentlemen.

Thank you. Dismissed.

You keep your eye on the pilot.

Are you all right, sir?

Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.

Can the Russians be jamming us?

No, but they can listen

over their two Molniya satellites, sir.

Where are they?

Right now, they've got one over the Atlantic

and one over the Pacific, sir.

Okay, we're in business.

Get me a hookup.

It'll be difficult, but I'll try, sir.

Sorry, sir, I'm getting nothing from the TACAMO planes.

Try the low-frequency channels.

(Radio squealing)

There they are.

Where?

Yeah! I see 'em!

Looks like they're going back on a straight course.

They're going to take the rads too.

This is going to make it tougher.

You're doing good, Smitty.

Am I improving the odds?

About 90 to 1.

(Rumbling)

Moreau: Fire in number six!

Shut it down.

Done.

Rudder.

Got it.

Altitude?

Are you kidding?

Prepare to jettison bombs.

I've got them, sir.

Good work, Lieutenant.

Alice, we made our way through to the TACAMO planes.

Unfortunately, the E-4 beat us to it.

Conflicting orders, Mr. President.

The submarines will launch.

The TACAMOs have asked for confirmation.

It'll take a few minutes to move the codes.

Can you catch them in five minutes?

Alice: Sorry, sir, they're going straight through too.

We can't gain on them.

- Try. - Of course, sir, we'll try!

President: What the hell time is it?

1355 hours, sir.

Call us back in exactly two minutes.

1357 hours exactly.

We're counting seconds now, Alice.

The fate of this planet may be riding with you.

Yes, sir!

Smitty, burn out every fan in those engines.

We got five minutes, or it's all over.

It may not do any good, sir, but I'll try.

Will somebody give me a cigarette?

A real cigarette!

Going full thrust, all engines.

Roger that, we are still descending.

Damn it, we're not going to make it.

Too rough to ditch. Prepare to eject.

Wait; Wait!

We are holding altitude.

We are holding altitude!

I think we got a chance.

Roger that.

Looks like the storm is breaking up.

Excuse me, sir.

Yes?

We've just reached the TACAMO planes.

You've got to bring down your authenticator card.

How in heaven's name did you do that?

We went through two Russian satellites to reach our planes.

How's that for stickin' it to 'em?

Good work. Well, let's get on to it.

Excuse me, sir.

Where the hell is Alice?

Right on our tail, sir.

Keep that bastard off us

for 15 minutes if you want to win this war.

Win?

I thought we were supposed to stop this thing.

(Jet engines roaring)

Woman: Sir?

Yeah?

(Nervously) Nonfilter, sir.

God bless you, Mary.

Smitty: General?

It's the President, sir.

President: General,

I have the Kremlin on the line.

His people are monitoring the E-4 transmission.

You have three, maybe four minutes.

Can you do it in that time?

No, sir, I cannot.

You understand what this means?

Yes, sir.

It's hopeless?

Well, sir, if the E-4 pilot makes a mistake,

slips up, maybe, but...

He won't I know him. He's good.

Right now, he sees himself pursued by a madman.

General.

Sir.

Against your wishes, I'm going to thank you.

Not all our people's programming was faulty.

Because we're using a non-conventional relay, sir,

it could take five or six minutes.

They don't want voice; They want it on paper

in a specific sequence, or it'll be ignored.

Condor: Well, then, let's get on with it, huh? Right away.

Man: Thank you, sir.

Mr. President.

I think we got him.

Sir.

Do better next time, sir.

(Explosion)

(Typewriter clacking)

If you've taken the chance to live, it's okay to die.

(Laughs)

Nobody's dying now.

Where do we go from here?

I don't know.

Welcome to tomorrow.