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 Ml6 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 heard. I'm heard.
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.
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.
Stay with her.
Bond. Only Bond.
He's going to derail us.
Full speed.
Full speed. Ram him.
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.
- 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
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 06:00 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.
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 ?