good -- good. i'll be right down.
small problem with the shipment, travers. tell him what you just told me.
this is cleared from the top, travers. matheson will accompany you on the flight to san francisco. show him every professional courtesy.
okay -- i know it's not in san francisco. i know it's not here. i know it's not in any fucking airport from here to montana. where it's not - we got that covered. now, do you have any ideas on where it is?
air search?
-- the roads are shut down, right?
keep two copters on full standby. and let me know the second that storm starts to wind down.
any visual? any radio contact?
get the copters ready. we take off in three minutes.
sorry to hear it. we're still going. the plane might be intact.
shut up. that fifty million isn't coming out of my pension.
unhappily walks through the carnage and past agents gathering up the plane, to a harried crash specialist from the faa -- ross stuart -- who is organizing the debris.
what can you confirm?
no, i don't think i will. the reason the faa pays you is to exercise your vast, amazing knowledge of these "events". so i expect you to come up with some stunning insights, something a slow-witted fuck like me hasn't already observed. one: it didn't blow up in mid-air, because the debris isn't widely dispersed. but was there a bomb on board that could have disabled it? i wonder. two: there wasn't an attempted landing. otherwise, there'd be debris to the east of the wreckage, where the plane was coming from. did it come straight down? that's got me scratching my head too. and three: the flight recorder's tracer led us here in the first place. so where is the goddamn thing? that one's got me all aflush with curiosity.
oh, i believe you.
he didn't think a distress call from a crashed plane was "important"? get me a fucking radio! now!
one of the currency cases.
what about the men?
everything's accounted for, then -- time to head back and start making excuses. fifty million bucks up in smoke, and i just don't give a shit. it's one more run of the press. but we lost five good men and they aren't so easily replaced. especially a guy like travers.
i give up. what was it?
a hijack. the plane was hijacked. son of a bitch --
guess we're both right, stuart. thanks for your expertise. well? you'll be waiting till groundhog's day for him to pull his head out of his ass -- let's get it in the air!
come in, rocky mountain rescue -- urgent -- come in --
i'm no expert -- but what do you make of that "event"?