[ Chattering ]
[ Woman ] Um, ladies and gentlemen.
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you.
On behalf of our 14,000 employees
I am pleased to say welcome to E-Com-Con
the most technologically advanced, yet socially conscious company
on the Fortune 500. [ Man ] Yeah, right!
I-In this state-of-the-art research and development center
we're taking the next step in computer processor evolution
and we're creating a new age of innovation and customer service.
How 'bout a new age of invading your customers' privacy?
[ Nervous Chuckling ] Uh, sir, are you sure you're on the right tour?
Yeah, why don't you tell us about that Octium IV chip you're developing?
Well, the, um, Octium IV
is our latest high-speed processor.
It's capable of 6.8 gigaflops.
That's nearly seven billion calculations per second.
I mean, tell us the truth.
How the Octium is secretly designed to keep tabs on the users.
[ Beeps ] Patriot 1 to Patriot 2, we're in position.
It's got a tiny little modem embedded in each processor, see?
So they can upload your files onto the Internet
and your credit history and your tax bracket and your Social Security number.
All neatly packaged for these robber barons.
Sir, I don't know if this is the proper forum-- - And another thing!
[ Frohike On Earpiece ] Patriot 2.
Patriot 2, we're in position. Shut up already.
Uh... is there peanuts in this?
[ Gasping, Chattering ]
Oh, yeah.
Who's your daddy?
We have a man having a severe allergic reaction here. Over.
[ ♫ Man Singing Rock ♫ ] Come on, Byers.
Um... Frohike? [ ♫ Music Continues ♫ ]
Hang on tight. - What?
Whoa! Byers!
I don't have winch control. Our software's been hijacked.
[ Groaning ]
Take it easy. Help's on the way.
What the hell is this?
Whoa!
[ Alarm Blaring ]
[ Grunts ] [ ♫ Music Continues ♫ ]
You!
Byers. Byers!
Hey. [ Grunts ]
[ Langly ] You're making a big mistake. That was a hearing aid.
Huh? What'd you say?
Where's the chip?
Full body cavity search.
[ Frohike ] Honest to God, we don't have it.
[ Music Ends ]
What we won't do for the Constitution.
Yeah, like having a roll of tape shoved up our kazoos.
At least it feels like that. [ Clears Throat ]
We're not gonna let this injustice stand.
We've gotta stop these corporate goons from doing to the American people
wh-- what they did to us last night.
Yeah, right. - What's the matter, Byers?
We don't have the proof. Without proof, we're nothing more than conspiracy mongers.
Without proof, all we can do is cry wolf.
Don't take it personally, man. They strip-searched all of us.
Eleven years we've been putting out this paper. Think about it.
Have we made a difference? Is America a better place to live because of our efforts?
This story would have garnered national attention.
It would have forced E-Com-Con to halt the production of the Octium chip.
It would have protected the civil liberties of millions of Americans.
But without proof?
But, we could still speculate, can't we? We'll call it editorial commentary.
For whom?
Last week's issue had a circulation of 2,824.
We're preaching to the converted.
Readership doesn't matter, man. It's the impact on the black ops that counts.
They read it too. The guys at the N.S.A. and the C.I.A.--
they tremble every time we put out one of these babies.
Do you think the people at E-Com-Con are trembling?
They will if we get that chip back. - Like that's gonna happen.
E-Com-Con's already got the Justice Department searching for the dude that snaked it from us.
Only they're looking for a "he."
Are you sure that man with the beard was Yves Adele Harlow?
Trust me. No guy kisses like that.
I mean, uh-- [ Buzzing ]
I hear Harlow's a black hat, a real heavy lifter.
Industrial espionage, strictly for profit.
Then she's probably already sold the chip to the highest bidder--
the Malaysians or theJapanese.
[ Buzzing ] That sucks! We stole it! What the hell you doing?
Our operation was piggy-backed.
There's only one way Harlow could know our plans.
You believe she breached our security.
[ Instrument Squawks ]
Testing: one, two, three. You bitch!
That's twice today I've been violated! That's it, man!
Total war! Salt the earth!
[ Phone Rings ]
Lone Gunman Newspaper Group. Byers speaking.
Yes, I'm his son.
[ Man ] Bertram R. Byers.
The "R" stood for Roosevelt...
which is a name fit for a true believer, if ever I heard one.
A true believer.
That was Bert in the 30-odd years
that I was lucky enough to call him a friend.
He never lost his faith in government
and its abiding power to do good, its muscular Christianity--
There's enough brass here to make a spittoon.
As a civilian employee in the air force
Bert jokingly described himself as a plodding bureaucrat.
But he never lost his love for aerospace, his chosen profession
his true love
which is why today, in accordance with his wishes
we commend his ashes to that bold frontier that he loved so well.
Godspeed, Bert.
Would you do the honors?
[ Sighs ]
Five, four...
three, two...
one.
Ignition.
So you never met him?
Byers and his old man hadn't spoken since 1989.
The year we started publishing?
The year Byers threw away a government pension to hang out with low-life hippie scum.
At least, that's what his old man thought.
Frohike, 12:00. - 12:00 what?
One spying, chip-stealing little cross-dresser.
Ow! - Oh!
What are you doing?
You got... soup.
Next time leave the crack pipe at home.
- Hey, buddy. Nice service.
Looks like your old man had a lot of friends in high places.
Maybe we can plant bugs on a couple of'em.
Or... maybe now is not the time.
I'm about ready to get out of here.
John. We met once years ago.
I'm Ray Helm. I worked with your father. - Oh, Mr. Helm.
Your eulogy was very nice. - Thank you.
I meant every word of it. I was hoping you and I could talk about him.
I realize you hadn't seen each other in some time.
I'm just not sure what there is to talk about.
We could talk about how he died.
According to the police, his car ran off the road.
Like I said, we could talk about that.
[ Helm ] It happened here.
The police ruled it a single-car accident.
There were no witnesses to it, but based on the lack of skid marks
their explanation was your father fell asleep at the wheel
and ran off the road.
But you don't believe that.
You're not saying... my father killed himself?.
I'm saying he was murdered.
[ Helm ] I don't know where Bert was headed. I don't know that it mattered.
Just so he was driving a lonely stretch of road...
a perfect place for an ambush.
[ Tires Screech ]
What proof do you have of this? - Absolutely none.
Which is exactly the way these people would manage it.
The people your father and I worked for.
The government?
But why? Why my father?
He was a company man.
He was a good man. He had a conscience.
Sometimes that's a problem in our line of work. - Meaning what?
Last time I spoke to him, he was upset about something he'd found out.
He wouldn't tell me what. [ Frohike ] Hold up.
Somethin'-- Somethin's funky here.
You're telling us the government is behind this? - You're the government.
If you're anything like your father, I knew you'd want to know.
[ Frohike ] Hey, buddy, are you sure you want to do this?
[ Langly ] That government guy said there wouldn't be any proof your dad was murdered.
If he was murdered
there'd have to be a reason for it.
Mr. Helm said maybe he knew something.
I want to see what's on his P.C.
Whoa! Son of a--
This carpet's wet. Like it's been cleaned.
Check it out.
Well, the good news is there's no annoying passwords to crack.
What's the bad news? - There's no nothing else either.
Only an operating system.
Someone cleaned house, erased everything and defragged this puppy.
Try a sector editor.
See if you can find any recently deleted files.
[ Beeping ] B-I-N-G-O.
Delete commands up the wazoo.
Wait. What about this one? - Looks like a D.O.D. file.
Scenario 12D.
Text file.
[ Spraying ]
What the--
Hey, Byers, Langly! Come look at this!
Take a look at this.
That's blood, and a lot of it.
[ Langly ] I thought your old man died in a car crash.
My father was dead long before the crash.
He was murdered here.
[ Motor Humming ]
Byers, Bertram. Blue '92 Caprice.
Yeah, we got it. - I don't get it.
You're saying somebody popped your father in his living room...
then loaded him into his car and faked a car crash two miles away.
That's a hell of a trick. A dead man driving a car.
[ Byers ] They managed it somehow.
There's gotta be evidence in the car that the fire didn't destroy.
You're Bertram Byers?
Uh, yeah.
Date of birth January 30, 1934?
Viagra.
It's over yonder.
That yonder?
Hey, stop! - Hold up!
Hey, wait! Shut it down! - Stop!
Shut it down! - Hang on!
Shut it down! - Shut it down!
Shut it down!
Come on! Shut it down! - Stop! Stop!
Hey! This yonder.
This was your Caprice.
Hope you didn't leave nothin' in the glove box.
Nice shootin'. Have you seen Kimmy?
You want some? Try my smorgasbord.
[ Gunshots ] [ Shouting ]
Hey! Never touch a man with a gun in his hand.
Shooting Vikings now? That's not very sporting.
What do you want, Langly? I'm locked and loaded here.
I need some help circumventing D.O.D.'s online security codes.
D.O.D.? What for?
Go put your daisy in somebody else's rifle, hippie.
I gotta put some serious lead down range.
I'm talking about government-sanctioned murder here.
Is this another one of your wacko conspiracy theories, like who shot J.R.?
J.F.K. - Whatever.
My point being, you're wasting your life, man.
A hacker of your caliber oughta be floating in a Silicon Valley hot tub...
sipping champers and counting his I.P.O. cashola.
[ Rapid Gunfire ]
[ Gunfire Continues ]
[ Langly ] Ay, Chihuahua. Who's that?
Fellow hacker. Her name's Yves Harlow.
I liked you better with a beard.
Where's our chip?
Chip? What chip?
That Octium IV's rightfully ours. Give it the hell back.
You got an Octium IV?
And what did you Three Stooges plan to do with the chip?
Give it to 60 Minutes?
"Expose the truth" in your silly little rag?
The American people have a right to know.
If you pimply pencil necks are the only hope for the American people, God help us all.
Come on, Langly. Let's go do some real hacking.
[ Shell Casings Clattering On Ground ]
Find anything?
Yeah, a new meaning for the term "compact car."
Boy, talk about a needle in a haystack.
If there is any evidence in this hunk of junk
we're gonna be hard-pressed to find it.
We'll find it. [ Chuckles ] And then what?
Then you'll be happy?
I'm not sure I understand the question.
What's the best thing that could come out of this investigation, as far as you're concerned?
You find out that your father was gonna blow the whistle on the government.
You find out they killed him for it.
What's your point? - Come on, Byers.
We both know you and your father didn't see eye to eye.
You're hoping you'll find out he was someone you could respect.
But what if he wasn't?
My father used to talk about J.F.K. when I was a kid.
Camelot...
a government as good as its people...
an American dream.
I don't know when or why he stopped believing in it
but those stories made me who I am.
They made me believe in the promise of our country.
Truth, justice, the American way.
Someone has to expose those that would destroy that dream.
Someone has to write the stories they don't want you to read.
That's why I teamed up with you guys-- you're true believers.
And I thought it was for the chick throw-off.
Look, all I'm saying is
I don't want you setting yourself up for disappointment.
I'm saying
make peace with your father in another way.
What is it?
Needle in a haystack.
[ Typing On Keyboard ]
We're in. Piece of cake.
My old granny could hack this site. Okay, where to next?
Okay, Products and Logistics. No, no, no! Wait, wait.
Program Analysis and Evaluation.
We're looking for any reference to something called Scenario 12D.
[ Byers ] We got it! - The proverbial smoking gun.
Hey, Kimmy. Slumming?
He's helping me hack into the D.O.D. mainframe.
I only said yes to keep Blondie from getting his 'nads clipped.
We ran into Yves Adele Harlow at the shooting range.
I didn't want to cause a scene-- your old man and all.
So what do you got?
We found this in the engine compartment of my father's car.
You'll notice that none of the circuits have factory identifier numbers.
This copper zigzag looks like an integrated antenna.
Etched into the breadboard like a cell phone. We're thinking--
If this received radio signals and was clipped at the car engine's control module--
[ Byers ] The speed of the car could be remotely controlled.
All you'd need is a handheld radio controller to operate the car.
And make it look like a dead man was driving. - Mm-hmm.
Yes! I am the king!
Número uno, baby! Mm-hmm! - Find something?
Yeah, I wound up in some government think tank's upload directory.
Here's your scenarios, ladies.
[ Byers ] These look like counterterrorism scenarios, war games
developed for the Defense Department.
What's Scenario 12D?
Airline terrorism? That doesn't make sense.
Your father was murdered over a war game? - Download it.
[ Beeping ] [ Kimmy ] Uh-oh.
Ix-nay on the ownload-day. - What is it?
Bogey. We've been spotted.
[ Man ] Sir, we've got an intruder. I'm tracing.
They're running some real-time intrusion detection. Somebody knows we're in.
We should ditch. - Keep downloading.
These guys are murderers, Byers. Give it some thought, man.
I've isolated their bit stream-- D.S.L., D.C. Metro trunk.
Compromise their cookie! - Stay with it.
[ Kimmy ] They're scanning our services! - We're almost there. Keep going.
Come on board. Scanning for vitals.
I'm bailing! They're scanning our file system! - We need that file.
Here we go. Address data file.
Oh, my God. They found the data file. They're gonna get our address!
They'll be busting through our door! - Keep downloading.
Frohike, we almost had it. - We almost had our asses fried.
My father died for that file. - Exactly.
Use your head.
[ Beeping ] Lost 'em.
Sorry, sir.
I know who they are.
What do you say we call it a night, Byers?
Ah, it's too late for that. The sun just came up.
Come on, Byers.
I'll buy you a Grand Slam.
It just doesn't make sense. - What doesn't make sense?
The blood in my father's house.
Buddy, we've been through this.
They shot him. - But why?
Why go to the trouble of faking a car accident
so perfectly, so convincingly
when you're starting with a body that's got a bullet hole in it?
Maybe your dad put up a fight.
Maybe it wasn't his blood.
You found something.
Proof.
Of what?
My father wasn't murdered. - But not for lack of trying.
I don't understand. Are you saying it was an accident?
We're saying he's not dead.
It starts with a bloodstain we found in my father's house.
We've had it tested. The blood wasn't his. - Whose was it?
His would-be assassin, a professional sent to make his death look like an accident.
[ Byers ] The carpet in the living room had been freshly shampooed.
We assumed it was to get rid of the blood evidence.
[ Langly ] It was, the second time.
[ Gasps ] [ Gunshot ]
He shot himself?
Some professional. - Hey, government contractor.
[ Byers ] In the aftermath, Dad realized he was in danger.
I imagine his first impulse was to run.
But then he started to piece together the larger plan.
[ Beeps ]
[ Engine Starts ]
[ Byers ] He found the remote control that the assassin had attached to his car.
Someone was going to great lengths
to fake his death in a car accident
to murder him without arousing suspicion.
So he came up with his own plan.
Dad knew whoever would go to such lengths would only stop if he were dead
so he made it look like he was.
[ Helm ] But what reason did they have to kill your father?
What were they trying to hide?
Something called Scenario 12D.
We have to find Bert. He can tell us everything we need to know.
We don't know where he is. We gotta find out what Scenario 12D is.
That's why we need your help, as a government muckety-muck.
We need your password to get past online security.
What is it?
Overlord.
Cool. - Whatever I can do to help.
Good.
I'll catch up with you later.
Why is he so bummed? His dad's alive.
Yeah, but he may never see him again.
John.
Dad.
[ Gasps ]
What the hell are you doing? Why can't you stay out of this? Leave me buried.
What is Scenario 12D?
We know it's a war-game scenario and
that it has to do with airline counterterrorism.
Why is it important enough to kill for?
Because it's no longer a game.
But if some terrorist group wants to act out this scenario,
why target you for assassination?
Depends on who your terrorists are.
The men who conceived of it in the first place.
You're saying our government plans to commit a terrorist act against a domestic airline--
There you go, indicting the entire government as usual.
It's a faction, a small faction. - For what possible gain?
The cold war's over, John,
but with no clear enemy to stockpile against, the arms market's flat.
But bring down a fully loaded 727 into the middle of New York City
and you'll find a dozen tin-pot dictators all over the world
just clamoring to take responsibility
and begging to be smart-bombed.
I can't believe it. This is about increasing arms sales.
Mm-hmm. [ Sighs ] When?
Tonight. - How are you gonna stop them?
Why didn't you tell the world this? Go to the press.
You think I'd still be drawing breath 30 minutes after I made that call?
The press? Who's gonna run this story? - We would.
This?
This is bird cage liner.
Wild-eyed crap, right up there with "Elvis is an alien" and two-headed babies.
You obviously read it. - Don't be so damn naive.
You think this is gonna save the world?
[ Sighs ] I'm doing what I can, John.
I don't have all the specifics on Scenario 12D, but I think I know the flight they've chosen.
You stay out of it.
I don't want Overlord gunning for you, too.
[ Muttering ]
[ Door Opens ]
Feeling better?
We're on the job here, Byers. I think we're making some real headway.
Hey, buddy. Are you okay?
I just saw my father.
Where? - At his house.
He's there now. - What did he say?
After he hit me? He told me to stay away from him, not to get involved.
I gotta get over there. - Mr. Helm.
Be careful. He doesn't trust you either.
He thinks you were somehow involved in the attempt on his life.
[ Door Opens, Closes ] What the hell are you doing?
What if Helm is involved? What if he's using us to get to your father?
You might have ratted out on your dad. - That was their plan.
Put the son in danger, and you flush the father out of hiding.
We had a couple of portable hydrocarbon sniffers. Where are they?
What? Byers!
[ Knocking On Door ] Somebody get that.
Let him in before somebody sees him.
Hiya.
Congrats on not being dead.
Oh, the day is young.
Byers, you wanna clue us in?
We got a plane to catch.
[ P.A.: Woman ] Atlantic National announces
their final boarding call for Flight 265...
Do you see anyone you recognize?
No, but that doesn't mean they're not around.
Okay, let's board, check the cabin for free hydrocarbons...
try and pinpoint that bomb.
This is your plan? I still think we should call in a bomb threat.
Let the F.B.I. deal with this.
You said yourself we don't know the full extent of this conspiracy.
We can't trust any government official.
Our only hope is to get on that plane.
They're boarding.
Then that's two problems solved.
[ Beeping ]
Find anything? - The luggage hold's clear, if this thing can be trusted.
What'd you do, make it with your erector set?
You're absolutely sure that this is the targeted flight?
This flight was chosen primarily for its visibility.
It's scheduled to pass over Manhattan on its way to Boston.
You said they intend to bring this down in the middle of New York City?
Shh.
What if there is no bomb?
Well, how are they gonna bring it down?
The same way a dead man can drive a car.
[ Simultaneously ] What do you mean, no bomb?
Langly, I need you to hack into the aircraft's onboard navigation system.
We need to know where we're headed. - Okay. Going to headsets.
[ Beeping ] I'll call in the air phone's carrier--
make them think we're sending a ground-to-air fax.
That's one twisted Star-69. - Get ready to ride the wave, hippie boy.
Get me on that plane, and I'll get you autopilot access. - How you gonna do that?
Airline telemetry systems use processors similar to those found in C.B. radios.
I'm in. We got ourselves a convoy.
What's your progress? - I've hacked into the flight control system output.
With a little bit of help.
It's what the brains of the plane is telling the little black box.
Course heading, attitude hold, yaw axis stabilization. Wha--
What the heck's that?
Is that what it looks like? - I think it is what it looks like.
What does what look like? [ Langly ] Modem protocol.
Remote access. Somebody on the ground's flying your plane.
Bogey, sir. - Keep your course.
I need to know our flight plan.
I'm mapping the data now.
[ Beeping ]
Byers, your flight's gonna make an unscheduled stop in exactly 22 minutes.
Corner of Liberty and Washington...
Lower Manhattan.
World Trade Center.
They're going to crash the plane into the World Trade Center.
I'll tell the flight crew.
Langly, can you override the flight control system? - I'm working on it.
What is this? - My name is Bert Byers. I work for the government.
I believe this plane has been commandeered.
Sir, passengers are not allowed in the cockpit. Return to your seat now.
You don't have control of this plane, and I don't know if we can get it back.
Turn off your autopilot. There may be a chance we can override it.
Sir, I'll be happy to contact your superiors in the government--
Sir! Damn it!
He's right.
Damn it! Frozen again.
They've encrypted the manual override commands.
Well, decrypt them. - I don't have enough power.
[ Langly ] My C.P.U.s are pegged. Langly, what's happening?
I'll try decrypting in background mode. - How long will that take?
In my counts per sec...
I estimate 7 to 10 days.
Oh.
Needless to say--
Our asses are fried.
Where are you going? - To unfry us.
Damn it!
[ Rapid Gunfire ]
[ Approaching Footsteps ]
I need that chip, Yves.
Melvin. I knew you'd come begging sooner or later.
Lay off the "Melvin" crap. I need some serious gigaflops, and I need them now.
What I hear, some guy with a beard took that chip.
Those were a woman's lips I kissed.
Like you ever kissed a girl before.
I don't have time for this.
You gonna take it away from me?
Give us the chip, Yves, or you'll be sacrificing the lives of hundreds of people
including Byers and his father.
I'm crying. - Yeah, you're one real tough cookie.
How much are you gonna enjoy spending the millions you make selling that chip
when you realize it's been paid for in blood?
I guess you don't know me. - Well, maybe I do, Lee Harvey Oswald.
Your name, Yves Adele Harlow, is an anagram of Lee Harvey Oswald.
Some joke.
I know who you really are, sugar,
and I can tell the world in my "silly little rag."
All right. Try cutting electrical power.
They've thought of that. They've thought of everything.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
We're experiencing some, uh, technical difficulties up here.
At this time we'd like you all to return to your seats.
And kiss your asses good-bye.
Langly, we're getting close. - I know. I know.
Damn it!
[ Pilot ] New York Center, this is Atlantic National Flight 265 heavy.
We are declaring an emergency.
We have 110 souls on board, 16,000 pounds of fuel...
and no dangerous goods or cargo to report.
[ Angry Grunt ]
Come on, Frohike.
Your friends have failed, haven't they?
There's still hope.
Hope my next turnout is as nice as my last one.
[ Beeping ]
[ Sighs ] B-I-N-G-O.
[ Beeps ] We've got manual override.
[ Screaming ]
If we can't get to the F.B.I., we'll go public.
With your testimony, we can break this conspiracy wide open...
bring Overlord down.
The whole operation--
Dad.
What is it?
God, I see myself in you.
The same youthful enthusiasm-- idealism.
I was so angry at you for so long
because I didn't want you to waste your life tilting at windmills.
But I-- I see now that you've got something
I never had.
You're a brave man, John.
You're not going to testify. You're going to let them cover this up.
They almost killed me twice.
They won't fail a third time.
My silence will keep me alive...
and you.
I know you and your friends
are fighting for the American dream.
Just don't expect to win.
We're going with this then?
We can't do it. We don't have the proof.
Then we don't have a lead story for this week's issue.
Yeah, we do.
[ Keyboarding ]
Well, we certainly don't have proof of that.
Your pistol-packing bearded lady has it, remember?
Yeah? Well, turnabout's fair play.
How the hell'd you get that? - Hey.
Once you've had a little taste of Frohike--
Okay. I grabbed it. I ran.
Well, we got a story to write.
[ Child ] I made this!