my condolences. i understand you've had a tough day.
your brother worked for the state department. this was almost a question. and while it's obviously news to us, jerry clearly knew.
were you close?
tom morgan, special agent attached to the national counterterrorism center.
-- according to phone records, your brother called you twelve times in the last year. you never called him back.
oh. that's right. he stamped visas in karachi for a year. then was a junior fso in beirut. interesting places.
i'm just saying you didn't talk much. maybe you did.
you familiar with the slogan, "declare war on war?"
because you painted it when you were part of the student activist group "project underground" at berkley.
don't "dude" me. i'm not your friend. i don't have friends.  so: jerry. why'd you drop out of school?
you haven't been able to hold a job
construction work, bartender in singapore, telemarketing, real estate office, messenger, supermarket sign painter, taxi driver, gas station in florida, fishing boat in alaska--
who deposited the seven-fifty?
"somebody." who?
no more than abdul hamid, taliban pow we caught in afghanistan. except his real name was johnny walker lindh. grew up in marin county with a basketball hoop in his driveway and a carton of tropicana in his fridge. he was blonder than you.  though.
that kind of equipment and a major cash infusion five hours after a terrorist threat and were smiling and saying "coincidence?"
v m m putting you on the brother.
no, i want you to go there.
you know i hate it when you call me that-- he turns to go, grant immediately following him --
follow me and don't talk.
where's shaw?
took him?! on whose authority?!
freeze, right there!
they're headed for the harbor! gimme roadblocks at granville and sheridan! in the bmw: jerry and rachel speed through an industrial marina. up ahead, the intersection's closed by a police barricade.
move move move!!!
seal the harbor, get divers in the water! pan up to the horizon.  where the garbage barge floats lazily down lake michigan. jerry and rachel escaped.  for now.
all i want is a goddamn picture of her -- what about traffic cams? there are more cameras on that route than the super
the getaway car was waiting there -- get me a witness description on the woman driving -- remember witnesses? people who see things?! jesus, is this a lost art?
morgan. when? no. you tell them hold that 'til i talk to sanford - wtmz has a report that there's a terrorist at large in the.city,-- i'm going back to forensics. find out where the hell that fax originated.-- if you don't have good news for me before i touch down you will be demoted to a job that will require you. to touch shit with your hands --do you understand me?
nobody who works for me calls me sir. understand?! it's disingenuous -- might as well be calling me 'asshole.' as grant watches the chopper take off, perplexed.
whaddya got?
you're kidding me. what capacity?
b what?
look, i don't have time for this -- stay there til you get some answers --
simms: step up --
-- i don't care if you have to go to the. top to do it. whatever means necessary, got it? whatever means. click. latesha lowers the phone. a huge:painting of the battle of el-alamein looming behind her. shelooks. back down the hallway as all the brass heading into the meeting room and catches sight of -- callister amongst them. latesha hesitates. for just a second. shit. shit. this is it. before suddenly rushing forward and calling out --
and we're about 4 miles from the river -- just then we see agent grant running towards them, stumbling on some rocks. just finishing-.up a cell call:
inside?! you absolutely sure on that?
can't even get these things on the black market. someone was talking to him. something's rotten in denmark. no, something's rotten everywhere. morgan turns abruptly and starts back for the chopper. the sheriff helplessly calls after him:
biotech? the chemical company?
why'd the hazmat office issue a special permit for the case?
there.are 14 visible cameras in the lobby! " 8 hidden no one can see!
it's a federal bank; encryption doesn't get more secure, from now on assume our air's been compromised, too. tell everyone to go secure on tac-3, nobody communicates outside this task force without my say-so.
do not tell me that is what i think it is. goddamnit, who's leading these people around?! someone's behind the wizard of oz! he turns and spots something: a surveillance camera in the window of a 7-11. starts moving toward it.--
-- you're shitting me
simms? you're breaking up -- with latesha -- her cell lcd says: "call lost." no bars. muttering "dainnit," she tries to call morgan back. no dice. aria pqv cam: latesha snaps her phone shut, notices the camera watching her. unsettling. we read: "voice mimeo activated"
i heard 'darpa' and 'computer' --?
wait -- go back, freeze that - what he sees: a still of jerry and rachel getting in the limo, faces obscured.
find that car! simms, gotta jump, sit tight 'til i call.
he's with a brunette female, approximately five-seven -- i want airport pd at all exits -- have the tower shift commander ground every flight outta here under federal jurisdiction but don't change the departure boards, i don't want 'em to know we're coming-- the agents enter the airport through a door on the tarmac --
i have him on the upper concourse, c terminal!
move! everybody move! federal officer! moving with jerry and rachel -- past a wall made of thirty flat screen monitors that form one massive nike ad of lebron slam dunking -- at once, the screens change to spell out the words:
open this now! the janitor quickly swipes his id through the keycard scanner, but it buzzes red. aria's locking them out. morgan fires his gun at the lock -- people scream as he slams through --
all agents: northwest cargo area! freight cargo area: separated from morgan, they tumble off the conveyor -- a plasma displays the "asset tracking system," all airport cargo and shipping -- it changes to read:
we sweep every cargo hold, every crate-- he's cut short by the sound of roaring turbines out the window they spin to see the c-130 taxiing down the runway.
goddammit! why's that plane on the runway?!
have the tower pull the pilot's original flight plan, the one on pa er -- if it's on a computer, it's useless --
what do you mean, 'experimental?'
wanna give me some kind of ratio here?
you mean one goddamned crystal that someone could put in their pocket?! this is not good. this is not a coincidence. what about a trace?
we have two fugitives in the building, get us to 'freight and cargo' -- close all access points and seal the building-- the suv races into the fire tunnel, toward the center ring
what about.the rest of the building?
every time someone says "nothing" five minutes. later there's "something." turns around, surveying his surroundings. think. think. think. when. something occurs to him --
sonofabitch! where're the stairs?!
where's the girl?!! but all jerry can do is gasp, bug-eyed --
where's the 'hex,' jerry --?!
then tell me how the hell this is happening, and do not play games with me.
a "talking computer"
the chain of command.
shit. shit. state of the union's in 30 minutes.
if something's gonna happen it'd have to happen from inside, outside's like fort
-- the girl, could she have it?
are you sure, jerry --
are you sure, jerry?
turn around; now!
then go!!! there's no time! the water envelops them. morgan shoves him away, even now, even under water, stabbing his finger at jerry: go! and jerry looks at him. moved and awed by this tremendous act of sacrifice. finally twists round and kicks away at the shattered window, taking one last look behind him.  swims out.