GoldenEye (James Bond 007) (1995) Movie Script

I beg your pardon.
I forgot to knock.
I'm alone.
Aren't we all?
- You're late, 007.
- I had to stop in the bathroom.
Ready to save the world again?
After you, 006.
James, for England.
For England, Alec.
It's too easy.
Half of everything is luck, James.
And the other half?
- Set timers: six minutes.
- Six minutes, check.
Closing time, James!
Last call!
Buy me a pint.
This is Colonel Ourumov! Come out
with your hands above your heads!
How original.
Shut the door, Alec!
There's a draft!
Move out. Throw down your weapon
and walk towards me, slowly.
Finish the job, James!
Blow them all to hell!
You have ten seconds.
nine... eight...
seven... six...
four... three... two...
For England, James!
Hold your fire!
You'll blow the gas tanks!
This is your last chance.
Come out with your hands above your...
You can't win.
Get out there! Move!
Move it!
Hold your fire!
James, is it really necessary
to drive quite so fast?
More often than you'd think.
I enjoy a spirited ride
as much as the next girl, but...
- Who's that?
- The next girl.
James, stop this! Stop it!
I know what you're doing.
What's that, dear?
You are just trying to show off
the size of your, your...
- Engine?
- Ego.
We're having a pleasant drive, and
you've got to bring psychology into it.
I was just sent here
to evaluate you.
Let's try and put that
behind us, shall we?
Ladies first.
- James, I want you to stop this car.
- Really?
Stop this car at once!
As you can see, I have no problem
with female authority.
James, you're incorrigible.
What am I going to do with you?
Well, let's toast your evaluation,
shall we?
A very thorough evaluation.
Madame wins.
Bet, Mademoiselle? No?
Bets, ladies and gentlemen?
No players?
It appears we share the same passions.
Three, anyway.
I count two.
Motoring and baccarat.
Seven. Madame wins.
I hope the third
is where your real talent lies.
One rises to meet a challenge.
Madame stands with five.
Six. Madame loses.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
The very words I live by.
And what words do you live by?
The trick is to quit
while you're still ahead.
That's one trick I've never learned.
Perhaps you'll show me how it's done.
Vodka martini.
Shaken, not stirred.
And for you?
The same.
How do you take it?
Straight up, with a twist.
Thank you, Mr... .?
The name's Bond.
James Bond.
Xenia Zaragevna Onatopp.
- Onatopp?
- Onatopp.
Your accent, Georgian?
Very good, Mr. Bond.
- You've been to Russia?
- Not recently.
I used to drop in occasionally.
Shoot in and out.
It's very different now,
a land of opportunity.
With a new Ferrari in every garage?
No, not quite.
That belongs to a friend.
A tip for your friend:
The French registration plates for this
year's model start with the letter 'L. '
Even the counterfeit ones.
Oh. And what rank
do you hold...
with the Motor Vehicles Department,
Mr. Bond?
- Shall we go?
- This one is an Admiral.
I like a woman
who enjoys pulling rank.
Nice to meet you, Mr. Bond.
The pleasure, I'm sure,
was all mine.
Transmission begins from Moneypenny.
Identification confirmed:
Onatopp, Xenia. Ex-Soviet fighter pilot.
Current suspected links to the
Janus crime syndicate, St. Petersburg.
Yacht Manticore is leased to
a known Janus corporate front.
M authorizes you
to observe Miss Onatopp...
but stipulates no contact
without prior approval.
End transmission. Moneypenny.
Good night, James.
I trust you'll stay
'on-a-topp' of things.
Xenia, I can't breathe!
Yes! Yes!
My respects, Admiral.
Delighted to have you aboard,
Ladies and gentlemen...
please take your seats on the upper deck
for the demonstration of the aircraft.
What you are about
to see in operation...
is Europe's answer
to the electronic battlefield:
the first working prototype
of the Tiger helicopter.
Uniquely maneuverable, the Tiger
not only uses stealth technology...
it is the only helicopter
to be hardened against...
all forms of
electronic interference...
radio jamming
and electromagnetic radiation.
I have a small surprise from
your friends back at the barracks.
I think I've gone to heaven.
Not yet.
Now please welcome the pilots.
Lieutenant Commander
Bernard Jaubert...
and Lieutenant Francois Brouse.
Select Mir.
Autographic projection.
Compute possible intercept
with second stage geo-sat two.
He wouldn't know a woman
if one came up and sat on his head.
- Boris!
- What?
I thought I'd post it
on the Internet, no?
- What's the password?
- I made it easy this time.
Even you should be able to break it,
borscht for brains.
All right, all right,
I'll give you a hint.
They're right in front of you
and can open very large doors.
You're such a geek.
Yes, I'm in!
You've hacked into
the U.S. Department of Justice.
Do you know what will happen
if they trace it here?
The Chief of Computers
will call me a genius...
move me to Moscow and give me
a million bucks hard currency.
I think not.
Besides, the Americans are slug-heads.
They'll never detect me.
- You were saying, slug-head?
- Nobody screws with Boris Grishenko!
Spiked them!
Come on, Boris, just hang up.
No way! I spiked them!
All right, what's the password?
I'm not going to tell you.
Okay, let me guess.
It's not in front of me?
You sit on it,
but you can't take it with you.
My program seizes the phone line
of whoever's tracing me...
and jams their modem
so they can't hang up.
Now the hunted
becomes the hunter.
Better luck next time...
Bang! Gone!
I am invincible!
Was it good for you, too?
I'm getting some coffee.
I'm going for a cigarette.
General Arkady Grigorovich Ourumov...
head of Space Division.
- General, if I'd known...
- You'd have been ready.
This is an unscheduled test of the
Severnaya facility. War simulation.
We are going to test-fire GoldenEye.
Report your status.
Two operational satellites, sir:
Petya and Mischa...
both in 90-minute earth orbit
at 100 kilometers.
Good. Here is the
authorization code.
Now, the GoldenEye and today's access
numbers for satellite Petya, please.
I am timing you.
Thank you, Major.
On my count.
Three... two... one.
Set target: Severnaya.
Arm the weapon.
Check it!
Their best response time is 19 minutes.
They'll be late.
It's clean.
I had to ventilate someone.
- Good evening, Moneypenny.
- Good evening, James.
M will meet you in the situation room.
I'm to take you straight in.
I've never seen you after hours,
Moneypenny. Lovely.
- Thank you, James.
- Out on a professional assignment?
Dressing to kill?
I know you'll
find this crushing, 007...
but I don't sit at home every night
praying for an international incident...
so I can run down here all dressed up
to impress James Bond.
I was on a date with a gentleman.
We went to the theater together.
Moneypenny, I'm devastated.
What would I ever do without you?
As far as I can remember, James,
you've never had me.
Hope springs eternal.
You know, this sort of behavior
could qualify as sexual harassment.
What's the penalty for that?
Someday you have to make good
on your innuendos.
- After you, Moneypenny.
- No, I insist.
You first.
- Good evening, 007.
- Tanner. What's up?
Sixteen minutes ago,
we intercepted a distress call...
Sixteen minutes ago,
we intercepted a distress call...
from a supposedly abandoned
radar station at Severnaya.
Look what the satellite picked up.
We found a match:
your missing Tiger.
In the middle of Northern Russia.
It seems your hunch
was right, 007.
It's too bad the evil Queen of Numbers
wouldn't let you play it.
- You were saying?
- No, I was just...
Good. Because if I want sarcasm,
Mr. Tanner, I'll talk to my children.
- Good evening, 007.
- Good evening, M.
The Prime Minister's
waiting for an update.
Proceed with your briefing,
Mr. Tanner.
Thank you.
After the distress signal,
your helicopter took off...
and the Russians scrambled
these three MIGs here to intercept it.
What do you think the Russians
are using the base for?
Well, at one point we suspected
Severnaya might be the ground station...
for a secret space-based weapons program
called GoldenEye, but...
Our statistical analysis
saw they had...
neither the finance
nor technology to implement it.
Numbers were never
my strong suit.
Are these pictures live?
Unlike the American government, we
prefer not to get our bad news from CNN.
Negative so far.
Everything seems normal.
What the bloody hell was that?
Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova.
Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova!
Our satellite is knocked out.
So are two of the Americans.
We have another
coming into range...
Good God.
Two of the MIGs are down.
And it looks like
the third went into the dish.
What do you think?
No lights.
Not one single electric light on
in a 30-mile radius.
- That explains the MIGs and satellites.
- And the blackout.
Electromagnetic Pulse:
a first-strike satellite weapon
developed by the...
The Americans and Soviets
during the Cold War.
I've read the brief.
Discovered after Hiroshima.
Set off a nuclear device
in the upper atmosphere.
Creates a pulse...
a radiation surge that destroys
everything with an electronic circuit.
The idea being to knock out
the enemy's communications...
before he, she, or they
could retaliate.
So, GoldenEye exists.
- Could this be an accident?
- No.
The helicopter.
If you wanted to steal the GoldenEye,
it was the perfect getaway vehicle.
Setting off the blast was the ideal way
to wipe out any trace of the crime.
The Janus group?
It may have been involved
with the helicopter.
I know the Russian
failsafe systems.
You don't just walk in
and ask for the keys to the bomb.
You need the access codes.
It had to be an insider.
And at least one person
probably knows who it is.
Very well, sir.
Thank you. Good night.
The Prime Minister's
talked to Moscow.
They're saying it was an accident
during a routine training exercise.
Governments change.
The lies stay the same.
What else do we know about
the Janus syndicate?
Topflight arms dealers,
headquartered in St. Petersburg.
The first outfit to restock
the Iraqis during the Gulf War.
The head man's unreliably described.
No photographs.
The woman, Onatopp...
is our only confirmed contact.
- Would you care for a drink?
- Thank you.
- Your predecessor kept cognac in the...
- I prefer bourbon.
- Ice?
- Yes.
We've pulled the files on
anyone who might have had access...
or authority at Severnaya.
The top name on the list is
an old friend of yours, I understand.
They made him a General.
He sees himself as
the next Iron Man of Russia.
So our political analysts rule him out.
He doesn't fit the profile of a traitor.
Are these the same analysts
who said that GoldenEye couldn't exist?
Who said the helicopter
posed no immediate threat...
and wasn't worth following?
You don't like me, Bond.
You don't like my methods.
You think I'm an accountant...
a 'bean counter, ' more interested
in my numbers than your instincts.
- The thought had occurred to me.
- Good.
Because I think you're a sexist,
misogynist dinosaur.
A relic of the Cold War...
whose boyish charms,
though wasted on me, obviously appeal...
to that young woman
I sent out to evaluate you.
- Point taken.
- Not quite, 007.
If you think for one moment I don't have
the balls to send a man out to die...
your instincts are dead wrong.
I've no compunction about
sending you to your death.
But I won't do it on a whim, even with
your cavalier attitude towards life.
I want you to find GoldenEye.
Find who took it, what they plan
to do with it, and stop it.
And if you should come across Ourumov,
guilty or not...
I don't want you running off
on some kind of vendetta.
Avenging Alec Trevelyan
will not bring him back.
- You didn't get him killed.
- Neither did you.
Don't make it personal.
Come back alive.
Good morning, General Ourumov.
Defense Minister Mishkin,
Please deliver your report.
As this Council is aware,
a secret weapon system code-named
GoldenEye was detonated over Severnaya.
As head of Space Division...
I personally undertook
the investigation.
I have concluded this crime
was committed by Siberian separatists...
seeking to create
political unrest.
the peaceful work...
and much-needed hard currency
earnings of Severnaya...
have been set back
by several years.
I tender my resignation.
It seems the Council does not
want your head, Arkady Grigorovich.
Merely your Ioyal assurance that
there are no other GoldenEye satellites.
I can give you that assurance,
Defense Minister.
And what of the two missing
Severnaya technicians?
I was aware only of the one,
Boris Grishenko.
There was a girl also
whose body was not among the dead.
Natalya Fyodorovna Simonova,
a level-two programmer.
I will investigate immediately,
Defense Minister.
It would seem presumptuous,
to blame this incident
on Siberian separatists...
before the whereabouts
of your own people are determined.
Do you agree?
Yes, Defense Minister.
Thank you for
bringing it to my attention.
That will be all.
Morning, Q.
Sorry about the leg. Skiing?
Right. Now pay attention, 007.
First, your new car, BMW.
Agile, five forward gears,
all-points radar...
self-destruct system...
and naturally,
all the usual refinements.
Now, this I'm
particularly proud of.
Behind the headlights,
Stinger missiles.
Excellent. Just the thing for unwinding
after a rough day at the office.
Need I remind you, 007...
that you have a licence to kill...
not to break the traffic laws.
- I wouldn't think of it.
- Good.
Right. Let's get on
to more practical matters.
A typical leather belt.
Male, size 34, buckle notch.
- Have you finished?
- Yes.
Good. A typical leather belt.
Q, I'm familiar with that device.
Not one with a 75-foot rappelling cord
built into the buckle.
Fire, and out shoots a piton...
followed by a high-tensile wire
designed to support your weight.
I see. And what if I need
additional support?
It's tested for one, 007.
Flight 878 to St. Petersburg.
X-ray document scanner.
A pen.
This is a Class Four grenade.
Three clicks
arms the four-second fuse.
Another three disarms it.
How long did you say the fuse was?
Oh, grow up, 007!
They always said the pen
was mightier than the sword.
Thanks to me, they were right.
Look, let's ask Freddie here
to demonstrate for us.
Here we are.
Sorry about this, Fred.
One... two... three.
Don't say it.
The writing's on the wall?
Along with the rest of him.
Now, 007, do please try
and return some of...
Do please try and return some of
this equipment in pristine order.
Don't touch that!
It's my lunch.
In London,
April's a spring month.
Oh, yeah?
And what are you, the weatherman?
For crying out loud,
another stiff-assed Brit...
with your secret codes
and your passwords.
One of these days you guys
are going to learn just to drop it.
Come on, my car's over there.
- After you.
- Thank you.
Like you said, drop it.
In London,
April's a spring month...
whereas in St. Petersburg
we're freezing our butts off!
Now, is that close enough
for government work?
No. Show me the rose.
Please, no.
All right, all right, all right!
- Muffy?
- Third wife.
- Jack Wade, CIA.
- James Bond, stiff-assed Brit.
- That's a nice move.
- Nice car.
This baby hasn't let me down yet.
She's an ugly little bitch,
but she gets you there.
Hey, Bond, you do any gardening?
Hand me that wrench, Jimmy?
- What do you know about Janus?
- Zilch. Zipsky.
No one's ever seen him.
But the man's connected up the kazoo.
KGB, military.
Rumor has it, he lives on one of
those old Soviet missile trains...
that armored stuff they ran around
the country so we couldn't target them.
Want to hand me
that hammer, Jimbo?
No, the bigger one.
The sledge.
Anyways, to tell the truth,
you don't find this guy. He finds you.
Hell, it's all Russian Mafia.
The best thing I can do is point you
in the direction of his competition.
- Who is the competition?
- An ex-KGB guy.
A tough mother. Got a limp on
his right leg. Name's Zukovsky.
- Valentin Dimitreveych Zukovsky?
- Yeah. You know him?
I gave him the limp.
Are these all you have?
How many do you want?
Twenty-four for the American school,
eleven for the Swedish.
IBM compatible
with 500 meg. Hard drives...
CD ROM and 14.4 modems.
- Will you pay dollars?
- Of course.
If madame would require
a demonstration, I could...
Madame requires one demonstration model
and a quiet place to test it.
Is everything satisfactory?
Everything except the interruption.
Now let me get you straight, Jimmy.
You shot him in the leg,
you stole his car, you took his girl.
And now you want Valentin Zukovsky
to set you up with Janus?
Well, what are you going to do?
Appeal to his heart?
No, his wallet.
Oh, that might work.
Okay, show time.
Valentin operates out of
building number 23 there.
Are you sure
you want to do this?
Last guy who dropped in uninvited
went home airfreight...
in very small boxes.
Make sure they
send me home first-class.
Natalya, it's me!
It's Boris!
It's Boris! It's Boris!
Another morning shot to hell.
Free market economy.
I swear it will be the end of me.
Walther PPK,
Only three men I know
use such a gun.
I believe I've killed
two of them.
Lucky me.
I think not.
James Bond.
Charming, sophisticated
secret agent.
Shaken but not stirred.
I see you haven't lost your
delicate sense of humor, Valentin, huh?
Or your need for an audience.
Who's strangling the cat?
Strangling a cat?
That is Irina, my mistress.
A very talented girl.
Irina! Take a hike!
So, Mr. Bond...
what is it that brings you
to my neighborhood, hmm?
Still working for Ml6...
or have you decided
to join the 21st century?
I hear the new M is a lady.
I want you to do me a favor.
He wants me to do him a favor!
My knee aches...
every single day,
twice as bad when it is cold.
Have you any idea how long
the winter lasts in this country, hmm?
Tell him, Dimitri!
- Well, it depends...
- Silence!
For an ex-KGB agent,
you surprise me, Valentin.
Someone of your stature must've realized
the skill was not to hit your knee...
but to...
miss the rest of you.
So why did you not kill me?
Call it professional courtesy.
Then I should extend you
the same courtesy.
Kirov's funeral parlor,
Two hundred pounds of C4 explosives
hidden in a casket.
Your man drives the hearse in,
the money's exchanged...
their man drives the hearse out.
Their man will be arrested
with the explosives.
Your man will make
a miraculous escape with the money.
Your money.
And what do I owe
for this accommodation?
I want you to set me up...
with Janus.
What has he done to deserve you?
- Stole a helicopter.
- I have six.
Three. None that fly.
Who's counting?
These are not just criminals,
Valentin, they're traitors.
They used the chopper
to steal a nuclear weapon.
Killed a lot of
innocent Russians doing it.
- What do you expect from a Cossack?
- Who?
This Janus, I've never met the man,
but I know he's a Lienz Cossack.
Group that worked for the Nazis
against the Russians, Second World War.
You know your history, Mr. Bond.
At the end of the war...
the Lienz Cossacks surrendered
to the British in Austria...
believing they'd join your government
and wage war against the communists.
But, the British betrayed them...
sent them promptly back to Stalin
who promptly had them all shot...
women, children, families.
Not exactly our finest hour.
Still, ruthless people.
They got what they deserved.
I want you to set me up with Janus.
Tell him I'm asking about the chopper.
You're going to meet me tonight
at the Grand Hotel Europe.
And then, you and I are even
and he owes me one?
You don't need the gun,
That depends on your definition
of 'safe sex. '
That's close enough.
Not for what I have in mind.
Oh, you think you can hurt me?
You think you can break me?
Yes! Yes!
No, no, no.
No more foreplay.
Take me to Janus.
- This is it?
- Yes.
Well, I must say,
I've had a lovely evening. You?
Well, once again,
the pleasure was all yours.
You'll understand
if I don't call.
I won't lose sleep over it.
Sweet dreams.
Hello, James.
- Alec?
- Back from the dead.
No longer just an anonymous star
on the memorial wall at Ml6.
What's the matter, James?
No glib remark?
No pithy comeback?
Hilarious question,
particularly from you.
Did you ever ask why?
Why we toppled all those dictators,
undermined all those regimes?
Only to come home: 'Well done, good job.
But sorry, old boy.
Everything you risked your life
and limb for has changed. '
- It was the job we were chosen for.
- Of course you'd say that.
James Bond,
Her Majesty's Ioyal terrier...
defender of the
so-called 'faith. '
Oh, please, James, put it away.
It's insulting to think I haven't
anticipated your every move.
- I trusted you, Alec.
- Trust?
What a quaint idea.
How did the Ml6 screening miss
that your parents were Lienz Cossacks?
Once again, your faith is misplaced.
They knew.
We're both orphans, James.
But where your parents had the luxury
of dying in a climbing accident...
mine survived the British betrayal
and Stalin's execution squads.
But my father couldn't let himself,
or my mother, live with the shame of it.
Ml6 figured I was
too young to remember.
And in one of life's
little ironies...
the son went to work for
the government whose betrayal...
caused the father
to kill himself and his wife.
Hence, Janus.
The two-faced Roman god
come to life.
It wasn't God who gave me this face,
it was you...
setting the timers for three minutes
instead of six.
Am I supposed
to feel sorry for you?
No. You're supposed
to die for me.
Oh, by the way...
I did think of asking you
to join my little scheme...
but somehow I knew...
never to his friend.
Closing time, James.
Last call.
For England, James.
Wake up!
Wake up, please!
- Wake up!
- I'm here.
- I'm here!
- Hurry!
Hurry up! Come out!
Pull yourself together!
We're going to die!
Do something!
Get us out of here!
I'm a little tied up...
Never mind.
The things that we do
for 'frequent flyer' mileage.
Here, let me help you.
That's it, mind your head.
Let me go!
Who are you?
Listen, I'm on your side.
I'm here to help you.
- I don't know anything.
- I don't believe you.
- I don't care what you believe.
- Look!
They might be back for us any minute.
You either take your chances with me...
or your fellow countrymen
who killed everyone at Severnaya.
I've never been to Severnaya.
Your watch has.
Frozen by the GoldenEye blast.
And I'm willing to bet you're the one
who climbed up the dish to get out.
- Who are you?
- I work for the British government.
And the more you tell me,
the more I can help you.
- But I don't know anything!
- Then let's start with what you do know.
My name is Natalya Simonova.
I was a systems programmer
at Severnaya facility until...
Go on.
- Until they killed everyone.
- Who? Alec Trevelyan?
No. I don't know who that is.
Who was the insider?
Who was the traitor?
Boris Grishenko.
- KGB or military?
- Computer programmer.
- There was no one else?
- No.
They're going to kill me,
aren't they?
Trust me.
Trust you?
I don't even know your name.
Good morning, Mr. Bond.
I'm Defense Minister
Dimitri Mishkin.
So, by what means shall we
execute you, Commander Bond?
What, no small talk?
No chitchat?
That's the trouble with the world today.
No one takes the time to do a sinister
interrogation anymore. It's a lost art.
Your sense of humor doesn't slay me,
Commander. I'm sorry.
- Where is the GoldenEye?
- I assumed you had it.
I have an English spy, a Severnaya
programmer and the helicopter they took.
That's what some traitor in your
government wanted it to look like.
- Who was behind the attack on Severnaya?
- Who had the authorization codes?
Russia may have changed, but the
penalty for terrorism is still death!
- And what's the penalty for treason?
- Stop it, both of you! Stop it!
You're like boys with toys.
It was Ourumov.
General Ourumov set off the weapon.
I saw him do it.
Are you certain it was Ourumov?
Yes. He killed everyone
and stole the GoldenEye.
And why would he do that?
There is another satellite.
Another GoldenEye?
Thank you, Miss Simonova.
You were saying something about
the lost art of interrogation, Mr. Bond?
Defense Minister, I must protest!
This is my investigation.
You are out of order.
From what I am hearing,
it is you who's out of order!
- I have seen this gun before.
- Put it down.
- In the hand of our enemy.
- Put it down, General!
Do you even know who
the enemy is, Dimitri?
- Do you?
- Guard!
Defense Minister Dimitri Mishkin...
murdered by a British agent,
James Bond.
Himself shot while
trying to escape. Guards!
Come on!
They're in the archives!
Spread out!
Cover the other side!
Trust me.
Go now!
Damn it!
Down the alley!
Use the bumper!
That's what it's for!
What was that?
Go left!
Get out!
Either you've brought me
the perfect gift, General Ourumov...
or you've made me
a very unhappy man.
Mishkin got to them
before I could.
Bond is alive?
He escaped.
Good for Bond.
Bad for you.
Take a seat, my dear.
You know, James and I
shared everything.
Absolutely everything.
To the victor go the spoils.
You'll like it where we're going.
You may even learn to like me.
Stay with her.
Only Bond.
He's going to derail us.
Full speed!
Full speed! Ram him!
Why can't you just be
a good boy and die?
You first.
You... second.
Situation analysis: hopeless.
You have no backup,
no escape route.
And I have the only
bargaining chip.
Where is she?
Oh, yes.
Your fatal weakness.
Ourumov, bring her in.
Lovely girl.
Tastes like...
like strawberries.
- I wouldn't know.
- I would.
So, back where we started, James.
Your friend or the mission.
Drop the gun.
I'll let her live.
Ourumov, what has this
Cossack promised you?
You knew, didn't you?
He's a Lienz Cossack.
- It's in the past.
- He'll betray you!
- Just like everyone else.
- Is this true?
What's true is that in 48 hours
you and I will have more money than God.
And Mr. Bond here will have
a small memorial service...
with only Moneypenny and a few
tearful restaurateurs in attendance.
So, what's the choice, James?
Two targets.
Time enough for one shot.
The girl, or the mission?
Kill her.
She means nothing to me.
See you in hell, James.
One-inch armor plating.
I'm fine,
thank you very much!
- Boris, yes!
- What are you doing?
Boris is on-line,
backing up his files.
If I can spike him, I might be able
to find out where they're going.
But don't stand there!
Get us out of here!
Yes, sir.
Good luck with the floor, James.
I set the timers for six minutes...
the same six minutes you gave me.
It was the least
I could do for a friend.
- What does that mean?
- We've got three minutes.
What else do you call your butt?
- What?
- It's Boris' password.
He plays word games: 'What I sit on,
but I don't take it with me. '
- Chair.
- Like I said.
Thirty seconds.
He's not in Russia, Germany,
Paris, London, Madrid.
Twenty-five seconds.
New York, Toronto, Chicago,
San Francisco.
Twenty seconds!
Mexico City, Rio, Miami.
- Come on!
- Wait!
He's in Cuba, Havana. No.
Do you destroy every vehicle
you get into?
Standard operating procedure.
'Boys with toys. '
Maybe I should take care of
the transportation for our trip to Cuba.
Our trip?
Do you know how
to disarm the weapon?
I suppose that depends on what kind of
weapon you're talking about disarming.
So, tell me.
Are there any other
standard operating procedures...
I should be aware of, Commander?
But I only pay them...
lip service.
My whole life, I dreamed about
coming to the Caribbean.
It's so beautiful.
Not another human being in sight.
What is it with you
and moving vehicles?
Yo, Jimbo!
Brought a little gift from
old what's-his-name, uh, T, Z...?
- Q.
- Yeah.
- What are you doing here, Wade?
- Banyan trees.
I am not here.
The CIA has no knowledge, no
involvement, absolutely nothing to do...
with your insertion into Cuba,
if you catch my drift.
Yes, I do, perfectly.
Borrowed the plane from
a friend of mine in the DEA.
Now, the Coast Guard
and the FAA are both in the loop.
You're cleared on our radar
for 0600 hours.
Here's the latest Sat-Int
from Langley.
- Stay below 600 feet.
- 500 feet.
- Who's that?
- Natalya Siminova.
Natalya Simonova.
Russian Minister of Transportation.
Did you check her out?
- Head to toe.
- Right.
So, you're looking for a dish
the size of a football field, huh?
Doesn't exist. You can't light a cigar
in Cuba without us seeing it.
I know it's there.
It's a duplicate of Severnaya, like your
secret transmitters in New Zealand.
I've never been to New Zealand.
How'd she know about that?
What if I need backup?
Get on the radio.
I'll send in the Marines.
Anyway, hang a left
at the end of the runway.
- Cuba's 80 miles on your right.
- Yo, Wade.
Just one thing: Don't push
any of the buttons on that car.
- I was going to go bombing around in it.
- Exactly.
Yo, James, I got faith.
But be careful. He knows you're coming.
He was your friend, Trevelyan?
And now he's your enemy
and you will kill him.
It is that simple?
In a word, yes.
Unless he kills you first.
- Natalya...
- You think I'm impressed?
All of you with your guns,
your killing, your death. For what?
So you can be a hero?
- All the heroes I know are dead.
- Natalya, listen to me.
How can you act like this?
How can you be so cold?
It's what keeps me alive.
It's what keeps you alone.
On the train...
when you told him to kill me
and I meant nothing to you...
did you mean it?
Basic rule:
always call their bluff.
Turn ten degrees south,
bearing one-eight-four.
Yes, sir.
There is nothing here.
Let's make another pass.
Maybe Wade was right.
There is no dish.
This time, Mr. Bond,
the pleasure will be all mine.
Wait for your turn.
She always did enjoy
a good squeeze.
Is the satellite in range?
- Six minutes.
- Prepare the dish.
No! It's too early.
I am not ready.
Do it!
No wonder we couldn't see it.
Come on.
The world's greatest cash card.
It had better not be rejected.
- Mischa is on-line.
- Sir.
Kill him!
The man just won't take a hint.
- Target coordinates?
- The target is London.
He's getting ready
to signal the satellite.
- How do you stop it?
- The transmitter above the antenna...
Antenna in position.
On my count.
Three... two... one.
God save the Queen.
The mainframe computer.
Don't move.
What an unpleasant surprise.
- We aim to please.
- Where's the girl?
Find her!
So, how is old Q?
Up to his usual tricks?
The watch.
A new model.
Still press here, do I?
Interesting setup, Alec.
You break into the Bank of England
via computer...
and then transfer
the money electronically...
just seconds before
you set off the GoldenEye...
which erases any record
of the transactions.
- Ingenious.
- Thank you, James.
But it still boils down
to petty theft.
In the end,
you're just a bank robber.
Nothing more
than a common thief.
You always did have
a small mind, James.
It's not just
erasing bank records.
It's everything on every computer
in Greater London:
tax records, the stock market,
credit ratings, land registries...
criminal records.
In 16 minutes and 43 sec...
No, 42 seconds... the United Kingdom
will reenter the Stone Age.
A worldwide financial meltdown.
And all so mad little Alec can settle
a score with the world 50 years on.
Oh, please, James.
Spare me the Freud.
I might as well ask you if all the vodka
martinis ever silence the screams...
of all the men you've killed.
Or if you find forgiveness in the arms
of all those willing women...
for all the dead ones
you failed to protect.
England is about to learn
the cost of betrayal...
inflation-adjusted for 1945.
- Welcome to the party, my dear.
- Natalya!
Don't ever do that again!
This is not one of
your games, Boris.
Real people will die!
You pathetic little worm.
She was in the mainframe.
Check the computer.
She's a moron.
A second-level programmer.
She works on
the guidance system.
She doesn't even have access
to the firing codes.
Retrorockets firing!
What the hell's happening?
We will have reentry in...
- It will burn up over the Atlantic.
- Deal with it!
She changed the access codes!
Well, then she can fix it.
Go ahead, shoot him.
He means nothing to me.
I can do it!
- I can break her codes.
- Then get on with it!
Tell him, now!
Give me the codes, Natalya!
Give them to me!
- Can Boris break your codes?
- Possibly.
We have to destroy
the transmitter.
By the way,
I'm fine, thank you very much.
Do you know how
to use one of these?
Stay out of sight.
- How long?
- Two minutes. One minute.
- Guard!
- I'm fixing it!
If he moves, kill him.
Yes! I am invincible!
You know, James...
I was always better.
Alpha One to Gunship.
Alpha One to Gunship!
Speak to me!
For England, James?
For me.
Yes! I am invincible!
James! James!
Are you all right?
Yes, I'm fine, thank you.
Suppose someone is watching?
No. There's no one
within 25 miles, believe me.
Yo, Jimbo!
Is this supposed to be your idea of, uh,
coming through in a clinch?
It's tobacco plants.
I said I'd be here, huh?
Yo! Marines!
Maybe you two would like to finish
debriefing each other at Guantanamo.
Maybe you two would like to finish
debriefing each other at Guantanamo.
- You ready?
- I'm not going on a helicopter with you.
No plane, no train,
nothing that moves.
Darling, what could
possible go wrong, eh?