[ Crowd Chattering Softly ]
[ Woman ] Thank you. [ Morris ] You're very welcome. Cheers.
So, what do you do for a living?
[ Morris Chuckles ] I work for the government.
I'm based out of Nevada, actually. I'm just here in town on business.
My job, uh, is kinda cloak-and-dagger, you might say.
Involves national security. - Really?
Well, I can keep a secret.
Well, that's what I love to hear. [ Chuckles ]
[ Sighs ]
How shall I put this? You ever see the movie Men in Black?
- Mm-hmm.
Well, guess who the Tommy Lee Jones character was based on?
Loosely. - Wow.
Yeah. [ Laughs ]
But it isn't all, you know...
[ Warbling Whistle ]
It can get lonely too.
What say I pay up, and we find a place that's not so loud?
[ Clatters ]
[ Clears Throat ]
Excuse me.
[ Exhales ]
[ Loud Switch Bangs ] [ Electronic Humming ]
[ Humming Continues ]
Oh, man.
Oh.
Hello?
Can we talk about this?
All right already.
I'm M.I.B. Majestic 12?
We play for the same team.
[ Instrument Whirring ] Oh, not the nose thing. I hate the nose thing.
Just t-tell me what you want.
[ Whirring Stops ] [ High-Pitched Voice ] You have information.
[ Snickers ] Hell, yeah. Lots of it. What do you wanna know?
What is "Maharan"?
Um...
[ Whirring Resumes ] Oh, okay, okay, okay!
[ Whirring Stops ] Okay. "Maharan." That's our code name...
for technology we borrowed from you.
And I wanna stress the word "borrowed," because we really do play for the same team.
It's your photon aggregate technology. Your weapons system.
We took it off the Roswell ship. [ Chuckles ]
Took us 50 years, but we finally figured out how it works.
But... [ Exhales ] hey, you know, I'm not the hardware guy.
Tell us everything. [ Whirring ]
Aaah!
[ Screaming ]
[ Jimmy ] Yee-haw! Yee-haw!
We rock. We are the champions.
What a coup. What a scoop!
An honest-to-God Man in Black. It's unheard of.
[ Langly ] That Morris Fletcher was totally fooled.
It's amazing how much fun you can have
with a couple c.c.'s of Pentathol and a Halloween mask.
We never even had to use this. [ Buzzes ]
Uh-oh, guys! [ Brakes Squeal ]
[ Grunts ]
[ Car Engine Approaching ]
[ Engine Stops ]
Hello again. Remember me?
[ Soldier ] What should we do with the prisoners?
Hmm. What do you suggest, guys?
Let us go? - Yeah, yeah, I guess I could do that.
[ Snickers ] No. Shoot 'em all in the head.
[ Langly ] Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! [ Byers ] Y-You can't do that.
[ Soldier ] Ready, aim... [ Snapping Weapons ]
Oh, I... I almost forgot.
How did you four monkeys know where to find me?
Why should we tell you if you're just gonna kill us?
Fine. Be that way.
Ready, aim...
Yeah. Okay. Okay. We got an e-mail.
- It told us your name, who you were, what hotel you were stayin' at.
And who sent the e-mail?
We can't be sure. It was anonymous.
We back-traced it, and we got a, um, domain name off some military server... Romeo 61.
[ All Grunting ]
[ Vehicle Doors Slamming ] [ Tires Squeal ]
What the hell did we say?
[ Yawning ] Oh, man.
You crack babies woke me up from one killer dream, and I ain't talkin' about the dry kind.
Jessica Alba?
We'll make it up to you, Kimmy, somehow.
Just find us Romeo 61. - If you even can.
Oh, ha-ha. I tell you what, Langly.
I was actually gonna make this seem hard
so that you wouldn't break down crying in front of your sorority sisters...
but it looks like Grasshopper is in need of...
a little lesson in humility. [ Martial Arts Yell ]
Try and snatch that pebble!
All right. What service branch is it under: army, navy, Cub Scouts, what?
Try the air force. Area 51.
[ Keystrokes ] Hey, Lurch, how's about you trot out and get me a java grande?
How's about I trot over and smack you across the head?
Okay. Big guy has a temper. [ Computer Beeping ]
Nada on the air force, Byers. Anyway, I need a department.
Otherwise, we're talkin' needle in a five-sided haystack.
The Pentagon's e-mail server. Maybe if you can crack the server...
you can trace the root name back to the department it came from.
I have taught you much, Grasshopper. [ Scoffs ]
Soon it will be your time to wander the earth. [ Computer Beeping ]
Romeo 61. But, uh, there's no department.
Open the file. [ Keystrokes ]
What is all this?
"Atlanta, 7/27/96."
That was the summer of the Olympics.
"Atlanta, 7/27/96."
The date of the Centennial Olympic Park bombing.
[ Keystrokes ] "Alaska, 3/24/89."
The wreck of the Exxon Valdez in Prince William Sound.
"Harrisburg, 3/28/79."
Three Mile Island?
All indicated as operations?
All "successful"? Guys...
[ Frohike ] This can't be what it looks like.
Lockerbie, Scotland in '88.
The marine barracks bombing in Lebanon in '83.
Romeo 61, whatever it is...
Is it conceivable... one group of terrorists is responsible for all these acts?
- But they all can't be terrorist acts. I mean...
Three Mile Island, Exxon Valdez weren't.
Oh, man.
But, guys, what kind of terrorist works out of the Pentagon?
Government-sanctioned ones.
Like Kimmy says, one that doesn't appear in the chain of command.
Yo, I never said anything, okay? 'Cause... 'Cause I was not here.
[ Langly ] Kimmy! - Look, I never met any of you guys, okay?
You have to help uncover this. - Where's your sense of patriotism?
It gets overruled--
by my sense of self-preservation.
And yours should too. Seriously.
Arrivederci, baby.
[ Scoffs ] [ Door Shuts ]
These operations go back decades.
This outfit must've been around since...
Oh, my God. "Dallas, November 22, 1963."
J.F.K. The assassination.
It can't be. Can it?
Where do we start? - Maybe we shouldn't.
Maybe Kimmy's right.
If all that's true, you gotta know the people behind it
aren't gonna let us get away with writin' a story about it.
J.F. K... you understand? This is the Holy Grail.
This is why we call the paper the Lone Gunman, not because of huntin' and fishing.
I mean, you understand that, don't you?
Yeah. I understand that, Langly.
[ Sighs ]
Wh-Where do we start? This is just a list. There's no proof here.
Who else knows about Romeo 61?
Yeah, it can get lonely out there in that desert at night.
Looking up at all those stars, it makes me think...
I'm not gonna be here forever.
I'd better seize the moment. Carpe diem.
[ Chuckles ] I love the way French sounds.
Yeah. French and Greek... that whole region. - Mm-hmm.
What say I pay up, and we, uh...
find someplace not so loud?
Wow. This is so nice.
Well, it's even nicer with champagne. [ Chuckles ]
Oh, uh, we're missing glasses.
Hello, lover.
[ Gasps ] Ooh, my.
What a tasty, young morsel you've brought me. [ Kisses ]
Whoa, guys. This is so not my scene. - Oh.
Wait, wait, wait.
This whole... - What's your name again?
[ Exhales ] You son of a...
Oh, you've seen the last of Mr. Nice Guy. I really am gonna have you shot in the head.
We don't think so. We're bettin' that you need us.
Oh? And why's that? - Romeo 61.
You're scared of it, aren't you... "it," "them," whatever pronoun best applies?
You know they're stone killers. For some reason they put us on your trail.
We wanna know why. We're sure you do too.
Mr. Fletcher, I believe we can be helpful.
We're journalists.
[ Snickers ] I know who you are. You put out the Lone Gunman.
It's absolutely hilarious.
Guys, it's why I let you live.
It would've been like killing the staff of Mad magazine.
We tell the stories others refuse to tell.
Yeah, that's one way to put it. [ Laughing ]
Sorry to waste your time.
All right.
[ Vehicle Approaching ]
Thanks for comin', Yves. - Jimmy, I'm in a rush.
Sorry to bother you, but... it's the guys.
You know how you're always jokin' about them bein' in over their heads?
I never mean it as a joke.
Well, this one time I agree with you.
They're looking into this secret group of government assassins...
terrorists.
Supposedly they had somethin' to do with J.F. K...
not the movie, the actual guy.
Right now they're talking to this secret government agent...
you know, Men in Black?
Again, not the movie but... - An actual guy.
I'm worried what might happen.
I was afraid of this, Jimmy. You are the smartest of the four.
Don't let them go through with it. Get them off the story.
I tried. They won't listen to me. That's why I need your help.
I'm sorry, Jimmy. I can't. [ Brake Releases ]
Romeo 61.
It's sort of a bogeyman story for guys in my line of work.
Nobody knows who they are or what their mission is.
They kill, torture, steal, do God knows what.
Maybe they're just about causing chaos...
or turning a profit... either way, they're a seriously scary bunch.
But... [ Exhales ] I've got bigger problems. - Such as...
Well, there's this big meeting on Friday...
and I'm supposed to present this information.
Never mind what or to whom. It's not important. - The Maharan Project.
Anyway, it got stolen.
And when I show up without it, I'm dead.
Not fired, dead.
I can't go to the people I work with...
and there's no way I can find this woman.
What woman? - The one who ripped me off.
A real two-knuckler. Just... [ Grunts ]
Exotic, tall, brunette, talked like Elizabeth Hurley.
What was her name?
It doesn't matter. It was a fake. I had it checked out.
Darva Loye Welshe.
[ Scratching On Pad ]
[ Scratching Continues ] What?
Go on. Tell us what happened.
Two nights ago, I'm sitting in the bar downstairs, just minding my own business.
So I said, "Lesbian? I thought you said Lebanese." [ Laughs ]
[ Morris Narrating ] And then she showed up.
My God. I mean, this gorgeous, gorgeous woman...
and here she comes, sitting down right next to me.
Good evening.
[ Morris Narrating ] One thing led to another...
you know, I laid on the old charm.
And by this time it had swollen to the size of a Texas grapefruit.
[ Laughing ]
[ Morris Narrating ] And the next thing I knew...
Should've seen it coming. The whole thing was a setup.
[ Gags ]
[ Beeping ]
[ Whirs ]
"Darva Loye Welshe." You spell it with a couple extra E's, you get
"Lee Harvey Oswald" or "Yves Adele Harlow." [ Pen Clatters ]
[ Exhales ] Wait. Y-You know this woman?
We've had dealings with her.
But what does all this have to do with Romeo 61?
Boys, don't you get it?
She rips me off. Then she e-mails you.
Romeo 61... she's a member.
I mean, what do we really know about Yves? Next to nothin'.
Any luck? - Not only is she not answering her cell phone...
but apparently she just canceled the account.
I thought you guys were hackers. Trace her billing address.
We tried that the day she gave us the number.
Somehow she figured a way to bill it to the offices of Martha Stewart Living.
Oh, she's good. She's very good.
What's he doing here? - Hey, relax, man.
Guys, please, get off of this story.
If you won't listen to me, listen to Yves.
What about Yves? - She said stay away from it.
You told her about it? Einstein here told her about it.
Well, of course she's gonna stay away if she's part of Romeo 61.
A part of Romeo 61? Who in the hell told you that?
Jimmy, Yves is the only connection we have between data stolen from Mr. Fletcher
and the e-mail we received informing us of it.
So that makes her some kind of government killer?
Have you ever seen her kill anybody?
The only thing I've ever seen her do is protect her own interests.
All those secrets she keeps... why?
She's a... a very private person.
[ Laughing ] We don't even know her real name.
And what's with that anagram... "Lee Harvey Oswald"?
Could someone please explain what that's supposed to signify?
You're wrong about her, Langly.
[ Speed Dial Tones ]
[ Ring Tone ]
[ Mulder ] You can leave me a message after the beep.
[ Answering Machine Beep ]
[ Frohike's Voice ] Hey, man. Me and the boys have come across...
something you'll find very tasty.
I can't tell you over the phone, but call me so we can meet someplace...
out of the way of prying eyes, if you catch my drift.
You can reach me at 240-555-0106. Later.
You're not gonna find her if she doesn't wanna be found.
The valet remembered her from the night she ripped me off.
They pulled her silver BMW out of the lot at 10:26. She headed north on Wisconsin.
[ ♫ Electronic ♫ ]
[ Keypad Tones ] Here it comes.
[ ♫ Continues ♫ ]
A big left onto O Street.
[ ♫ Continues ♫ ]
Right on 35th.
[ Langly ] Got her.
[ ♫ Ends ♫ ] Bishop Place.
[ Knocking ]
Nobody's home.
- Ah, come on. Don't do that.
- We didn't spend four hours trackin'her here for nothing.
That's right, Poindexter.
I'm gonna get my computer disk back. [ Frohike ] Here we go.
Hold up. Booby traps.
Way ahead of you, Spider-Lady.
[ Wire Twangs ]
[ Alarm Beeping ]
[ Snorts, Laughing ]
[ Continues Laughing Wheezily ]
Hey, I'm workin' here.
How would you like it if I went through your underwear?
Did the dye come off?
[ Laughing ] Don't even!
[ Chuckling ]
Langly! Guys, what are we doin' here?
Gettin' to the truth, Jimmy, like I said before. - The truth about what?
This whole thing has gone from J.F.K. to Romeo 61 and secret assassins
to us rummaging through a woman's underwear.
Well, this guy's a broken record.
What do you keep him around for? You got a lot of hard-to-open jars?
- We're looking for the truth, and we're doing it with a man that lies for a living.!
Ohhh. [ Snickers ]
I'm really not feelin' good about this. - Then leave, why don't ya?
Just shut the hell up and leave. - Langly.!
Come on, buddy. [ Quietly ] The kid doesn't know any better.
I do know one thing.
You three aren't as smart as I thought.
Oh, Jimmy. Come on. - Guys... [ Door Closes ]
could we get back to work? See if we can find my stolen disk?
Huh? Please. [ Exhales ]
Ah-ha. - What is it?
"Lucerne Financial." - It's an opening receipt.
No account owner's name. Just a number.
Yesterday's date. Yves just opened up a Swiss bank account.
Check out the opening deposit.
- Yeah. 10.13 million from Fenix Atlantic Corporation.
Who the hell is that? - Maybe another name for Romeo 61.
Either way, I'm guessing these are the people who have your disk.
[ Bell Dings ]
May I help you? - Yes.
I'm researching Etruscan pottery. I understand you have a new acquisition.
We do. It's in the back.
This is a pleasant surprise. You are here to sell, aren't you?
Word is out about your new acquisition.
Word does seem to travel.
I must say, I'm rather cross at you.
I feel left out of a large number of opportunities:
the Octium 4 chip, the water-powered car.
None of these items ever made it to market. Strange.
Who have you told about me?
Who have you told?
There's a dozen potential witnesses right outside the door.
You'd be seen. - I don't care.
Do they know where I am?
[ Man On Speaker ] Ooh-wah.! [ Computer Beeping ]
[ Beeping Continues ]
"Boys, couldn't reach you at your phone number just now. Can't make 9:00.
How about 10:00 at the parking deck... 14th and K?"
What? Who's this from?
"Fox."
What fox do I know?
Oh, man. Yves.
[ Motor Whirring ]
If this is where Romeo 61 hangs...
they've got one ugly clubhouse. [ Keystrokes ]
[ Keystrokes Continue ] We got floor plans. We got security systems.
Man, oh, man, this is heavy-duty stuff.
What is that?
It's a vault... data storage... in the pit of the building, 16 floors down.
Massive.
- What the hell kind of data they store down there anyway?
Hey, don't look at me. This is your town.
Guys, I think we're sitting on the mother lode here.
Romeo 61? J.F.K.? Who knows?
[ Scoffs ] Maybe every answer we've ever dreamed of uncovering.
You know, maybe the boys wouldn't treat you like such a tramp if you'd wear less makeup.
You know, that just gets funnier and funnier. [ Snorts, Laughing ]
Keep it up. [ Scottish Accent ] Aye, Braveheart...
and you will lead us to victory over the English dogs.
[ Chuckling ] And you can blow my bagpipe, pal.
Mr. Fletcher, we're supposed to be working together.
[ Sighs ] Yeah, I know.
I know, but this is pointless. I'm a dead man.
I should be using these last hours constructively...
drinking at the bar and juggling blonde triplets.
No offense, fellas, but there's no way you're gettin' in there.
How 'bout it? - Yeah, it's tricky.
They got a wicked access system based on facial recognition.
If your face doesn't match one in their database, they lock you in.
Can you crack the database, add our photos to it?
Negatory. It's built as a ROM file. Be like changing Moses' stone tablets.
That's what I'm sayin'. And even then, uh, how would Blue Boy pass with his complexion?
He's right. With that shade of blue...
the scanner would probably read your face as invisible...
like the chroma key they use behind the TV weatherman.
Chroma key. That's the answer.
[ Tires Squeaking ]
[ Engine Starts, Runs ]
Little thing called the speed limit, buddy!
[ ♫ Electronic ♫ ]
[ ♫ Continues ♫ ]
[ ♫ Ends ♫ ]
[ Tapping ]
[ Cocks Pistol ] [ Tire Hissing ]
[ Tapping ]
[ Power Window Whirring ]
I'm not armed. - You should be.
I have a message for you. [ Cocks Pistol ]
People that you care about may die tonight. - There's no one I care about.
[ Moans ]
It's up to you. If you come with me now, they'll be safe.
Perhaps we could take your car.
[ Tire Hissing ] [ Cocks Pistol ]
[ Engine Starts ] [ Tires Squeal ]
[ Byers ] There we are. That should do it. Number 15.
Now, what exactly does this do... aside from making sure he never gets laid again?
Ah, bite me, Fletcher. [ Chuckles ]
Maybe. You taste like blueberries?
Guys! Facial recognition works by scanning the shape of each face
and measuring a sampling of its prominent features.
Fifteen sampling points with this system.
So if Langly's face is chroma-key blue and, hence, invisible to the scanner...
all the machine picks up are these 15 pink dots...
which correspond to the exact sampling points of one Walter Belofsky
whom we pulled off the Fenix Atlantic database.
And presto, I'm in like Flynn.
You guys never went to your high school prom, did you?
The gate and the outer door are... standard keypad entry.
Plain vanilla stuff.
Coming, Skeezix? - Oh! Ah, no, thanks. I think I'll sit this one out.
Suit yourself.
Yves?
Yves.
Hey.
You wouldn't happen to know a guy named Frohike, would you?
Frohike? Yeah. I live with him.
I mean, I used to.
Was that kind of a May-December thing?
Wh-What about Frohike?
I'm supposed to meet him here. - Yeah?
You wouldn't happen to know a woman named Yves, would you?
No.
You're supposed to meet her here too?
What are the chances of that?
Unless maybe you're talking about some other Frohike.
The Frohike I know, I'm hopin' he's the only one.
My name's Mulder, by the way. - Jimmy.
Mulder. You're that F.B.I. agent the guys are always solvin' the crimes for.
You're the one that says he was abducted by aliens.
I was abducted.
Wow. Did they probe you?
Did they use the nose thing on you or...
or the... big one?
[ Imitating Motor Buzzing ] Jimmy, let's put our heads together
and see if we can't figure this thing out.
[ Langly ] Bingo. We're in.
[ Frohike ] I told you.
Plain vanilla. [ Speed Dial Tones, Ring Tone ]
[ Man ] Hello. How's it goin'?
As expected. Your end?
[ Motor Whirring ] Hold on a second.
[ In Loud Whisper ] Right on, guys. Let your freak flag fly.
[ Whirring Stops ]
Three blue mice headed for the cheese.
[ Beep Tone ] [ Whirring Resumes ]
This is kidnapping.
[ Grunts ] Yeah, I know. I'm real sorry.
I thought I made myself abundantly clear. I plan to keep on breathin'.
I don't care how big a doo pile
your little mongoloid Girl Scout troop has burrowed itself into.
You got no right to involve me in this.
It's true. I don't. - Exactly.
So, buh-bye.
Ow! Hurting. Hurting. Hurting. Hurting.
Hurting. Hurting!
I have no right...
but that doesn't mean you're not gonna help me, understand?
[ No Audible Dialogue ]
[ Grunts ] All right. Lay it out for me, already.
I ran into this F.B.I. agent.
He thought he was meeting Frohike, who was gonna give him secret information...
only Frohike never showed up.
This agent... [ Paper Rustling ]
he gave me a phone number for a Frohike that I'd never seen before.
It's disconnected. I need you to run it down for me.
Usin' me to trace phone numbers.
It's like watching Michael Jordan play checkers.
[ Keystrokes ]
"Martha Stewart Living." That's who it bills to.
It's Yves. - Yves Harlow.
She was gonna meet with Mulder.
She was gonna give him the disk she took from Morris Fletcher.
- You are the smartest of the four.
See that it gets to Agent Mulder.
Move. - Whatever.
I assume neither of you knows the whereabouts of Byers, Langly or Frohike.
[ Keystrokes ]
What's on this?
The Maharan Project? An alien weapon?
Nothing so exotic. It's a detailed file of alien abductees...
or rather, innocent people who have been brainwashed by the likes of Morris Fletcher.
It's all there: their modus operandi, their disinformation.
I reckon that man Agent Mulder will find it useful.
What about Romeo 61?
What about Santa Claus and the Easter bunny?
Classic disinformation, Jimmy. Bait.
Shiny lures to dangle in front of your three friends.
Something they couldn't resist.
[ Locks Squeaking, Clicking ]
[ Panel Beeps ] [ Door Unlatches ]
[ Beep Tone ]
[ Motor Whirring ]
Damn it! - Are you running a plate trace?
Late model Jaguar sedan. I need an owner's name. It's not coming up.
Run the VIN number. Let me try somethin'.
Morris is usin' the guys as bait to get to you?
Why? What does he want with you?
He simply wants his disk back. I imagine that's why he got involved.
He's working for someone else, however...
someone who's been looking for me for quite some time now.
Who?
All you need to know is that I won't turn myself over to him.
Which means, if we can't track down Byers, Frohike and Langly ourselves...
They'll kill them.
Sorry. [ Hits Keyboard ]
Whole lotta nothin'.
[ Jimmy, Quietly ] Think. Oh, think.
Last time I saw the guys, they were at your hotel room.
Maybe there's some clue there. - What do you mean, my hotel room?
We, uh, tracked you to your room at the Bishop Place.
I don't have a room at the Bishop Place.
Crack the in-house server. - Cinch.
What was the room number?
[ Jimmy ] I think it was the presidential suite.
Eyes forward.
Check the billing file. Who rented the room?
Uh... Uh, there you go.
[ Yves ] "Fenix Atlantic."
[ Elevator Whirring ] [ Panel Beeping ]
[ Whirring Stops ]
Gentlemen, this is it.
I suspect that every answer to every question we have ever asked...
lies behind this door.
Huh. All we gotta do is open it.
Nobody's here.
Where'd they go? - Come on.
[ Sighs ] They're probably inside, from the looks of things.
This isn't too promising.
Okay. So I got a plan.
You do?
You and Kimmy figure out how to get the doors open, and I'll go in by myself.
Whoever's after you is after you, not me.
It's a smart plan, Jimmy.
[ Sighs ] What?
[ Hisses ]
What? Hey. What? What the hell?
Take him home. Stay there.
You are, like, dangerous, lady.
Let's hope so. [ Panel Beeping ]
[ Motor Whirring ]
Come on. Come on.
I don't understand, Langly. Your schematics clearly showed a different vault door.
Yeah. One that had a control panel. One we actually had a chance of breaking into.
It doesn't make any damn sense. I-It's like these stupid schematics are... are like...
Fake? [ Elevator Whirring ]
[ Panel Beeping ]
Oh, crap. [ Beeping Continues ]
[ Whirring Stops ]
Hi, guys. Why so blue?
[ Snorts ] Sorry.
[ Child ] I made this!