BOY: Simon Magus was a magician and a sorcerer...
in...um...
PRIEST: In Sumeria.
What happened to Simon Magus, Bartolo?
SECOND BOY: Jesus' disciples performed miracles.
When Simon Magus saw the miracles...
he offered Peter gold for God's powers.
PRIEST: How did Peter respond...
John Rossi?
Stand up!
Answer, John Rossi.
SIMON: That's not my name.
PRIEST: You and all the other bastards...
lucky enough to be here...
children of sin, spawn of the damned...
are all named for saints...
saints who are disciplined, saints who are chaste.
You are named for John Baptist Rossi...
a Capuchin priest who gave away all his possessions.
A man who had nothing, like you.
Now what is your name...
you ungrateful cur?
[Whipping]
PRIEST: Your name, boy!
Have you lost your tongue?
What is your name?
PRIEST: All the girls...
will remain locked in their dormitory...
and no food will be served to any boy...
until you acknowledge your namesake before God.
[Banging]
BOYS: Food! Food! Food! Food! Food! Food! Food!
[Banging stops]
[Boys whispering]
[Boys gasp]
[Cheering]
SIMON: Yes. Yes.
BOY: They should name you Simon Magus, the magician.
SIMON: No.
Simon...Templar.
Agnes!
AGNES: When they catch you, they'll cane you.
SIMON: Won't happen, 'cause we're leaving tonight...
this hearty brotherhood, on a crusade.
That's why I risked everything, Agnes, my love...
to bid you farewell.
I can't leave you behind without a kiss.
Hey, watch this.
[Clang]
NUN: We've lost some girls!
The girls are missing!
There are girls missing!
BOY: Come on, boys!
AGNES: Wait, John Rossi. My kiss.
[Barking]
PRIEST: There he is! Get him!
AGNES: Aah!
SIMON ON TAPE: October 3.
Entering foyer of Tretiak industries.
Heavy security on elevators. Guards in uniform.
Elevator to vault on 26th floor requires separate passkey.
[Sighs]
Maybe use stairs.
No traffic there.
October 4.
Personal tidbits.
Tretiak's former partner died suddenly in 1995.
It left Tretiak as sole owner of a gas and oil empire.
Tretiak's first son killed in car crash five years ago.
SIMON: Who are you?
SIMON ON TAPE: Vehicle was driven by younger son Ilya...
now 27.
Wife now lives in Geneva...
following assassination attempt in 1996.
[Russian accent] I am...Ivanovanovitch.
SIMON ON TAPE: October 5.
Ilya spent most of today in Cafe Eldorado...
with bandito buddies.
Gangster rap, coffee, flirting with teenage girls.
Small firearms in coats. Machine pistols in cars.
[Speaking Russian]
[Crowd chanting]
MAN ON P.A.: There were three great empires...
that dominated the world both culturally and militarily...
Rome, Constantinople, and Russia.
All three have fallen.
Only one can be restored...
and only one man can restore it...
Ivan Petrovich Tretiak!
[Cheering]
TRETIAK: Friends... countrymen...
Russians!
TRETIAK: You people here in this room...
are the cream of Russia...
and the whole nation is listening with us.
But why do you all listen to me rave?
Set aside my oil company...
forget about my best-selling book...
and all I am is a lunatic...
haunted by the fantasy of an empire...
that reclaims her former might, her former size.
[Applause]
All I am is a poet spinning rhymes of a Russia...
not cut off at the knees, but armed to the teeth.
Not ridiculed, but revered.
[Applause]
No! More than revered!
Feared!
[Cheering]
TRETIAK: But who am l to dazzle you with this dream?
All I've done is...
YURI: How does it look for the leader's son...
to walk out when the leader speaks?
ILYA: You'd prefer the leader's son...
to piss his pants on live TV? Hmm?
TRETIAK: And still the people freeze to death!
SIMON: I love this country.
[Click]
[Singing in Russian]
[Filtered breathing]
[Beeping]
[Beep]
[Beep, Clunk]
[Taps cane]
[Speaking Russian]
SIMON: [Australian accent] I don't speak Russian.
ILYA: In that case, stand up...
put your hands behind your head...
and turn around slowly.
Wrong place for a condom. Take it off.
SIMON: Listen, if I give this to you...
you'll give it to your daddy.
What's he gonna give you? Not even a Christmas bonus.
The guy I'm stealing this for will give me $1 million.
If we go in partners, we'll split 50-50.
Half a million hard currency.
Think of the drugs you could buy with that much cake.
You'll be discoing for a decade in Moscow, mate.
I don't need your small change.
That's your first problem.
Here is your second.
Microchip...please.
Freeze!
Sorry. Guns make me nervous.
Suck me...sideways.
[Alarm]
ILYA: Aah! Uhh!
Uh! My eyes! Ohh!
[Alarm]
ILYA: Give it up!
ILYA: You got no place to go!
ILYA: A goddamn button!
[Water sloshing]
ILYA: Back of the building! Come on!
ILYA: Where's the body?
GUARD: No body. Just some guy in rags.
[Crowd chanting]
[Rock and roll playing]
NEWS ANCHOR: As the bitter chill of winter...
descends on Moscow...
Russians are warming to the angry rhetoric...
of former communist boss Ivan Tretiak.
Now a billionaire oil magnate...
and leader of his own political party...
Tretiak predicted that the civil unrest engulfing Russia...
will only worsen, unless Reformist President Karpov...
can overcome the heating-oil shortage...
that has already killed scores of Russians.
WOMAN: What beautiful work.
Ah. Cloisonne.
It is old.
SIMON: [Spanish accent] Yes. It belonged to my grandmother.
Please.
Tonight I feel like the oldest person on this plane.
My husband, he's sending me to England to live...
until things change.
You are married not even a year...
and already this bastard has a girlfriend?!
I am sorry.
It's not my business.
How come you know so much about me?
It is a gift.
I'm Martin de Porres. I am from Spain...
but I'm named for a Peruvian saint...
who could cure the sick or the injured...
by the laying of hands.
INSPECTOR: Hmm. He's the same build...
as the description the Russians gave us...
but he doesn't sound like an Aussie.
WOMAN: No.
WOMAN: Could be faking it.
SECURITY GUARD: X-rays are clear.
He hasn't swallowed the microchip. Anything?
SIMON: You English with your chips, your fish and chips.
On the airplane, I had chicken.
WOMAN: Van Gogh theft, Netherlands.
Last year. Same eyes.
INSPECTOR: Different chin.
DRIVER: Halcyon Hotel, guv.
[Dreaming] PRIEST: Stand up!
What is your name?!
Answer the question!
[Echoing] What is your name?! Hey!
MAN ON TELEPHONE: Lou, the microchip arrived.
I put the dough in your account.
SIMON: Sorry I didn't get back to you about that diamond.
Moscow's like Dodge City now.
All them greedy Commies have turned into crazy capitalists.
It's disgusting. It's made 'em sloppy.
One or two more easy scores like this last one...
-l top 50 mil, I'm quitting. -l heard that before.
SIMON: Not from me. I don't know nuttin'.
You don't believe me? Try and find me.
-Fuck you, Lou. -See yourself.
Can't seem to break 50.
[German accent] "One million U.S. dollars...
"nonrefundable...
"reserves you a quiet table...
"at a romantic little spot in Berlin called Templehopf...
"which has a cozy transit lounge.
"To get inside, you walk through the metal detectors...
"and I walk through the metal detectors.
"Since you know I'm not armed, and I know you're not armed...
"we can both fall in love, and nobody gets hurt."
ILYA: I can't see him.
TRETIAK: Then look for him.
SIMON: You have a long and beautiful cane...
along with your beautiful eyes.
That photograph doesn't do you justice.
TRETIAK: Who are you?
SIMON: My name is Bruno Hautenfaust.
I was named for a saint who was a very wealthy man.
Had the wine, women, songs...
then took a vow of poverty and became a hermit...
went to live in the forest... in the nude.
TRETIAK: Please leave.
SIMON: I represent the professional you hired.
I'm his business manager.
I speak for him.
ILYA: We don't deal with underlings.
Come on, Father. Let's go.
TRETIAK: Wait. Sit down. Listen and learn.
SIMON: Ah. Youth.
TRETIAK: Who runs this thief?
CIA? Ml-6? Libya?
SIMON: He's not a racecar. Nobody runs him.
He's an independent contractor.
TRETIAK: Good. Then no one will mind if I kill him.
Oh, yes.
I can have a man killed and stroll away like that...
even with metal detectors...
even in this transit lounge.
SIMON: Oh, it's so early.
You guys wanna get coffee or something?
TRETIAK: Sure.
Be quiet.
SIMON: What is it you request of my employer?
TRETIAK: Do you know what cold fusion is?
SIMON: Of course.
It's the theory...
of nuclear fusion at room temperature...
free energy forever.
TRETIAK: Yes.
SERVER: Kaffee?
SIMON: Klein, Bitte.
SIMON: As far as science goes, it ranks just above astrology.
Those who claim to have achieved the experiment...
have never been able to duplicate it.
TRETIAK: Until now.
There is an electrochemist working at Oxford.
We believe that this good lady...
made a breakthrough in cold fusion.
Your employer will obtain the formula for me.
He's very busy, and you are very boring.
Your offer must inspire him.
This woman has repeatedly avoided...
my agents' attempts to find the formula.
She's cagey, difficult.
Maybe your agents are stupid.
I think this inspiration would cost you three million dollars.
TRETIAK: [Chuckles] Ridiculous.
SIMON: Why? You will have the world market in energy.
Cost you a nickel for every million you make.
His deposit should go--
Hey. It is not for me.
It is for mother Russia.
But you want mother Russia, too, Mr. Tretiak.
Three million in a bank account in Zurich. Agreed?
Yes.
How long to get your employer's agreement?
I'll ask.
Your offer has inspired her.
I'll do it.
Bank account number in Zurich.
Auf wiedersehen. Bye, sonny.
TRETIAK: Bye-bye.
I really love this guy. Ha ha ha!
ILYA: Too bad we have to kill him.
Yeah, too bad.
WOMAN: When the electrochemists Pons and Fleischman...
announced in 1989...
that they had discovered cold fusion...
a revolutionary process of generating energy...
they were at first acclaimed as geniuses...
and then condemned as charlatans.
The protocols of cold fusion...
SIMON: What are those? Drugs?
Could I have one? My head's pounding.
She's boring the life out of me.
-They're for my heart. -Oh.
You have very pretty eyes. You're a pretty lady.
-Who are you? -Me?
I'm here to do an interview with that Dr. Russell.
I'm gonna expose her as a fraud.
You don't put any stock in this cold fusion mumbo jumbo?
-Actually, I do. -Really?
WOMAN: Dr. Emma Russell.
Oops.
EMMA: Well, I didn't prepare any formal remarks.
I'm actually more interested...
in what questions you all have about cold fusion...
so I thought we would start with those.
Any questions?
Please?
MAN: I have, Dr. Russell.
Can you explain the actual process of fusion...
you know, the theory?
Yes. Oh, there it is.
This is the--the apparatus.
And very simply...
when positively charged deuterons...
are attracted to the palladium cathode...
they cram together...
and there are millions of them inside the cathode...
getting closer and closer, and then they fuse...
and they create energy in the form of helium.
WOMAN: But I read somewhere...
that the experiment couldn't be replicated...
so how do we know it works?
EMMA: We don't.
Not yet.
But if you remember Einstein...
he knew the theory of relativity to be true...
long before he could prove it.
I mean, he felt the truth.
And, uh, some of us feel the same way...
about cold fusion...
because it's there. It's in nature...
the raw, natural power just waiting to be harnessed.
When we ignite that cold fusion fire...
I mean, just imagine.
There's more energy in one cubic mile of seawater...
than in all the known oil reserves on earth.
I mean, you could drive your car 55 million miles...
on a gallon of heavy water.
It would be the end of pollution...
warmth for the whole world.
So why don't I demonstrate for you...
why other people in the past have been so unsuccessful?
They used very complex...
SIMON: November 17, 11:30 a.m.
Entering flat of Dr. Emma Russell.
High Street, Oxford.
No alarms on outer doors. Strange.
TAPE: No messages.
SIMON: Shelley Monument.
Entering bathroom.
Books.
More books.
Walls covered with reminder notes.
Poetry.
[Click]
Ah. Dad.
[Click]
"Stop and talk to Shelley every day.
"How can I love a man named Percy?"
"Isn't there someone in the world...
"who can consume me like that."
Magic. Romantic.
No recent applications.
"Cold fusion notes."
"Although I pass the Shelley Monument every day...
"its sadness strikes me every time."
"l feel a very personal loss when I look at it.
"So much pain and so much passion."
"To give light to them that sit in darkness...
"and in the shadow of death."
"Luke 1; verse 79."
Tretiak's wrong. She's not cagey.
She's not difficult. She's just...
eccentric.
She's innocent.
Maybe it's in her head.
She needs a poet... an artist...
someone who...
understands truth.
She needs Thomas More.
[Taps paper]
SIMON: Do you like it?
EMMA: What?
The sculpture. Do you like it?
Oh...yes.
What do you love about it?
The way it...glows.
And how the light...
holds him in silence...
taking care of him.
That's what I like about it.
Are you an artist?
No. I'm just a traveler searching for purity.
-What do you search for? -Energy.
Yes.
Have you ever been on a long journey?
No, not really.
Perhaps I'll take you to my home...
in Africa.
You should experience the energy...
of where all life began.
Sorry. I'm not very good with people.
Me, neither.
EMMA: "l see my angel for the first time...
"know my purpose, feel my birth..."
"hear, at first faintly, then distinctly...
"the sweet strains of our union..."
"Our love heats up the cold universe...
"and gives my tired, desperate hope..."
SIMON: "purified by our kisses...
"are eternally healed."
Do you like it?
Who did you write it for?
SIMON: You.
You're following me, or it's destiny.
Either way, it's weird.
Very weird.
Destiny then.
This must look strange.
It's, uh...
something that I'm working on...
a formula for...
creating energy.
That you carry around in your underwear?
Yeah, I do.
How did you do that?
Magic.
EMMA: Give it back.
SIMON: It looks like Sanskrit.
Give it back.
I'm sorry. I just wanted to watch you put it away.
What else do you keep in there?
Nothing.
SIMON: That's not true.
SERVER: Can I get you anything else?
SIMON: Drink your wine. Latour '57.
WAITER: The Latour, sir, is $400 a bottle.
Then we'll have two bottles.
There. You count it.
SIMON: All these little tubes and microbes and things.
EMMA: Molecules?
-Those, too. -[Laughs]
EMMA: Can I tell you something?
SIMON: What? You must. Everything.
EMMA: [Whispering] It's a secret.
SIMON: What?
I'm done.
My energy research-- I'm finished.
I still have some sequencing that I have to work out...
to make sure that it's safe, but I did it.
It's just been you against the whole world, hasn't it?
How have you done it and stayed so positive?
The gift of faith.
To see...
Well...
to believe in something that's all around us...
but hidden from our sight.
SIMON: That's a beautiful thought.
EMMA: I can't believe I'm telling you this.
I don't even know your name.
Well, my name is...
I don't want to tell you.
I don't want to do that.
What difference does it make?
What's your name?
-Emma. -Emma.
Now I know everything about you.
Your...genius.
You have a weak heart.
You have beautiful dreams, great courage.
You're not afraid in this world.
You get that from your father.
You can't cook to save your life...
and you love fish.
I do love fish.
That's weird.
I want to try that.
-No. -Yes.
I don't want you to. Drink your wine.
EMMA: Yes, I do.
What's your name?
My name is Thomas More.
I was named after the saint...
who died for his faith.
OK.
Your work...
is very dangerous... and alive...
and I love your poems.
They move me.
But that's not who you really are.
You're running away from...
your past and your pain...
and yet you keep it so close to you.
So you don't have to be afraid of who you are...
because you're beautiful.
What are you doing?
EMMA: Oh, my God, you're bleeding. What happened?
SIMON: Don't know. I was...
weeping, and I slipped.
I was thinking of you. I don't know.
EMMA: I live right down the street.
I could clean you up.
Why do you cover your mouth when you laugh?
-l don't know. -Wait.
I'm glad it stopped bleeding.
Don't need stitches.
[Glass clatters]
We're gonna have to disinfect it, though.
You really are an angel.
You are.
It's gonna hurt.
-Aah! -Aah!
Oh, sorry.
I'm sorry. Are you all right?
Yeah.
I'm sorry. I was just joking.
l...
-l should go. -Oh, no.
Yes. You--you...I...
Take off your pants.
Pardon?
I mean, your sweater.
EMMA: There's blood on it. I'll wash it.
SIMON: Very domestic.
There's blood on your blouse as well.
I'll wash it.
Do you have any wine?
EMMA: I'm so overwhelmed that you even noticed me.
SIMON: How could I not?
You make me feel so good.
I wish you...
I wish you could understand.
I want you to know who I am.
Oh, my heart.
Don't disappear. I'll be right back.
FEMALE VOCALIST: Calm it down.
Bring it round.
Too way high up, your street.
I can see...
like nothin' else...
in me, you're better than I wanna be.
Don't think, 'cause I understand...
I care...
Don't think, 'cause I'm talking...
SIMON: Oh, I can't do this.
She's so great.
EMMA: I can't believe this.
I can't believe this is happening.
VOCALIST: I'm open...
to falling from grace.
[Song continues faintly]
EMMA: Hi.
ILYA: "To spider:
"Must fly. Have better offer."
Greedy westerner. Wants more money.
TRETIAK: Who cares?
Can't spend hard currency in hell.
Send this message--
"Fly, don't buzz off.
"I'll double your fee...
"or send my own boys to take care of the woman."
EMMA: You OK?
SIMON: Let's... let's just lie here.
Can't we just be like this tonight?
Is that what you want?
SIMON: It's so magic.
It just feels so perfect.
[Beeping]
RADIO: It's 7:00 a.m., and here are the news headlines.
EMMA: Thomas?
TRETIAK: Lev Naumovitch, it's here! Good man!
DR. BOTVIN: It's revolutionary, sir!
She's boldly cast aside a slew of stale ideas...
but I think the formula is incomplete.
It will take months...
TRETIAK: That won't do...
because now that the people are nicely beginning to freeze...
Tretiak must sweep in with a miracle to save them.
MAN: How high do you want it, Mr. Tretiak?
TRETIAK: To the top. Good morning, Yuri.
YURI: Good morning.
BOTVIN: Perhaps l can confirm the validity...
of this formula more quickly if I dispense...
with certain protocols. But, Mr. Tretiak--
YURI: How long, Dr. Botvin, since you received...
your last salary check from Moscow University?
BOTVIN: Ukrainian Independence Day.
Last August.
[Beeping]
Ivan, he's on-line.
TRETIAK: Do it.
SIMON: To spider...
You've got the recipe.
YURI: "Where's my dough?"
TRETIAK: To human fly...
Recipe incomplete.
The cake won't rise.
Hence, no dough.
SIMON: I am not the baker...
YURI: "...but don't make me the butcher."
I like this guy.
No play, no pay.
I'm certain you kept the cookbook.
ILYA: Holland Park.
RECEPTIONIST: I'll check that for you.
Yes, that seems to be fine. One moment. Aah!
SIMON: He's keeping me on-line.
MAN: You wait here.
[Sirens]
[Beeping]
POLICE OFFICER: You, beside the car.
Now, turn around. Step away from the vehicle.
SIMON: He's armed!
ILYA: Drive!
ILYA: Go the other way. Go!
MALE VOCALIST: You're all I've got tonight.
INSPECTOR: What about him?
What about this one?
EMMA: Yeah. That--
INSPECTOR: We believe they're all the same villain.
Oh, my God.
They're all him?
INSPECTOR: We believe so.
He eluded a hit squad this morning in Holland Park.
Then he fled the U.K. out of Heathrow.
WOMAN: We've got a handful of false identities...
used on visas, passports, leases...
Nicholas Owen...
Louie Guanella...
Peter Damian...
Charles Borroneo.
EMMA: Of course.
Thomas More.
All names of Catholic saints.
Can you access Heathrow's passenger lists...
for the last eight hours?
I think it might be possible.
Good.
[Bell rings]
[Crowd cheering]
ILYA: Go!
CROWD: Yeah!
[Singing in Russian]
MAN: Yes!
TRETIAK: See, my friends...
you back the biggest rats.
[Speaking Russian]
Hello.
TRETIAK: Out, out.
Freeloaders, out.
I want to drink alone.
Close the curtain.