Shark Hunter (2001) Movie Script
[music playing]
[clatter]
Whoa.
Oh.
[splashing]
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Whoa.
What's the matter, son?
What was that?
That would be the
giant man-eating squid
that inhabits these waters.
But you can't see
him, especially
in dark waters like this.
No, but he's there.
When you're watching, he just
sort of sneaks up from behind,
and all of the sudden-- ah.
Sorry.
Sorry, I was just kidding, son.
Um, it's a dolphin maybe, or
some driftwood that came up
from the bottom of the ocean.
[sighs] There's going to
be a lot of bumps tonight,
buddy, especially on a
foggy night like this.
Can't let it scare
you, buddy, OK?
OK.
Huh?
OK.
OK.
OK.
MRS. NORTHCUT: Dishes, Frank.
Dishes, Frank.
MRS. NORTHCUT: Help me, please.
I'm going to be
in big trouble.
I gotta go.
OK.
OK.
[music playing]
Mom, Dad.
What's wrong, Spence?
Hang on.
Ah!
[screaming]
[heavy breathing]
[music playing]
Dr. Northcut?
[sighs] Sorry, excuse me.
Um, from Beebe and
Barton's bathysphere
to Alvin and now Britain's
newest Vanguard series,
these machines allow us
to reach the ocean floor.
But they'll run you $30
million apiece, break down,
and usually, all you get back
is distorted underwater video
of dirt and water.
So you tell me.
What's the point of
having them around?
Yes?
To search for more
oil, more energy sources.
That's close.
Yes?
Protect endangered
habitats or species.
That's cuddly,
but close again.
Why?
In a word-- answers.
Before we can begin to
drill for offshore oil
or save endangered
deep sea species,
we need to ask questions.
And these machines go down
and bring back answers.
Excuse me for just a minute.
Will, won't you come in?
I got the vote today.
Due to new sponsorship,
Bottom Industries officially
declined your exploratory
grant and the use
of the Argus research sub.
I did what I could.
A new team got picked
up by sponsors, right?
Listen, Spence, all I know,
it's not going to be you.
Will, I built that sub.
Sorry, class,
we'll end it early.
Soggy, I need that report.
Thank you.
Look, Spencer, I
did what I could.
Yeah, I bet you
really pushed the board.
Fine.
You helped build it.
So submit your proposal
in six months again.
You want me to
wait six months?
Yes.
Did I make Barton wait for
the conversion and retrofitting?
And did they wait
for [inaudible]
with dynamic composites,
improved propulsion,
ballast systems, and sonar
mapping software, huh?
Spencer, get it straight.
It's not your sub.
Do you understand?
[music playing]
[music playing on headphones]
[computer beeping]
[computer beeping]
Uh, guys, I got a
signal bearing down on us.
Do you see anything out there?
[computer beeping]
Negative.
We don't see shit out here.
Nothing out there.
Let's finish up.
I got a nice cold one waiting.
[computer beeping]
Damn.
I don't know what
to tell you guys.
Sonar might be fucked up.
A school of fish maybe?
Maybe it's the transport
sub coming to our side.
Ah, not likely.
Large pressure sub?
SUBMARINE WORKER 1: Whatever
it is, we can't see shit.
Revolt, I told you
we're going to screw
up the operating system
loading those stupid ass games.
SUBMARINE WORKER 2: Nothing's
wrong with the system.
I'm telling you.
Something very big
is closing fast.
You sure you guys
don't see anything?
SUBMARINE WORKER 1: Nothing.
Now quit screwing around.
We're going to have to
service the outside terminal.
[music playing]
Ah!
Charlie?
Get the hell out of there.
Get the hell out of there.
Ah!
Ah, it's you again.
If you're not here to tell me
Barton changed their minds,
don't even bother, man.
At 3:20 this afternoon, Bottom
Industries specific DSS complex
folded.
It was completely destroyed,
killing the entire research
staff and facilities crew.
No survivors,
total decompression?
Initial damage
report indicates
a massive breach followed
by an immediate loss
of pressurization.
Down 1,900 feet, nothing
could have survived.
What caused the breach?
We don't know yet.
Come on.
Let's get out of here.
Yeah.
The true story--
diving friend of mine
works for the US
Bureau of Reclamation.
Swims down to the
bottom of the Colorado
Dam every six month to clean
grates on floor intakes.
Anyway, he goes
down to the bottom.
Water is all dark, murky.
And he sees a giant
flathead catfish.
This thing is
huge, big as a car.
A catfish as big as a car?
May I finish?
Like I said, the guy
goes down, face to face
with this monster catfish.
He turns like mad
for the surface
and tells the others
up top what he saw.
No one believes him.
Can't imagine why.
The guy says, go down
and see for yourself.
So another diver goes
down and comes back up.
Tells the first
diver that he also
saw the monster
catfish, big as a car,
opening and closing its
mouth, just watching him.
The second diver
noticed something round
above the upper jaw.
What was it?
It was a chrome hood emblem
from a '72 Volkswagen bug.
[scoffs] All that for--
hm.
See, Spence, it wasn't
a monster catfish at all.
It was a sunken car, and the
current was opening and closing
the hood like a mouth.
What did you think
it was, Dr. Northcut?
An analogy-- some things
are not what they seem.
Isn't that right-- like an
11-year-old boy saw something
take his family away from him?
Then again, um, I'm going to get
myself something else to drink.
Excuse me.
Come on, Sp--
excuse me.
I thought you wanted
to have another drink.
What's this bullshit, Will?
First you tell me the DSS
complex was destroyed.
Then you ask me to dinner
with your new squeeze.
What the hell do
you want from me?
Answers.
Answers.
What happened to the DSS?
Well, how the hell
should I know?
All you told me is that there
was a sudden decompression.
All we got is the sonar
feed just before the impact.
Something huge hit it.
Well, we know it
wasn't a-- a submarine.
Maybe it could have been
a huge seismic shift,
a freak undercurrent, some
sort of massive fissure.
I don't know.
- You're reaching.
No, I am trying to get
back on my sub, Will.
Now, if you're here to pick
on my brain, you picked it.
I got better things
to do than hang
out with you and your student.
I'll see you later.
Check, please.
Miss, can I have
my coat, please?
Thank you.
Listen, guys, I've
got some work to do.
So I'm going to jump
in a cab, all right?
Spence, this is one of
your biggest problems.
What's that?
Listening.
I'm listening.
Pack a bag.
Check in at Barton Port
Station tomorrow at 600 hours.
What for?
Bottom won't wait for
the Navy's investigations.
They want answers now.
And they want us
to go find them.
Congratulations, Spence.
You're back on the Argus.
Good night, Doctor.
[music playing]
How are you feeling?
I feel good.
[laughs]
Did you imagine it like this?
I did.
I certainly did.
Yeah, baby.
[laughs] [sighs]
I want you to meet somebody.
This is Valentin Tchenko, our
helmsman and chief mechanic.
Dr. Spencer Northcut
had a hand in the design
and construction of the Argus.
Wow, nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you too.
What's our heading?
270, right?
Whew, correct.
How is she handling?
The rim propulsion is
working fine, much better
than her days in the Navy.
I want you to see something.
Sure.
It's nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
Heading 280.
This is our latest
toy from Bottom.
Titanium shell,
[inaudible] portals,
twin oxygen rebreathers
good for five
hours without an umbilical.
Hydropropulsion, I mean, this
thing runs on fuel pellets.
It looks like it's been, uh,
operational for a while, huh?
And decent thrust
and responsive
even down at 3,500 feet.
3,500 feet.
This is the only
manned submersible
that can go that deep.
Right.
Guys, say hello to
Dr. Spencer Northcut.
And may I introduce
you to Justin French--
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Hi.
WILL ADLER: --our computer
and robotics technician?
Gotta hand it to you, Doc.
You did a serious
overhaul in me.
Thank you very much.
Peters-- and
the gentleman with
the power drill in his
hands is Rob Harrington,
our mini sub pilot.
Hi.
How's she run?
She's fast.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Yeah?
Built for punishments,
especially with yours truly
on the sticks.
I hope so.
Because whatever caused
the DSS complex to fold
will probably crush this
thing like a beer can.
Yeah.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: That's right.
So, what, am I supposed
to be scared now?
I'm just saying.
We don't know what we're
dealing with here yet.
Well, if you're scared,
you don't belong down here.
So how the hell did you
get on the sub anyway?
- Dr. Spencer--
- Will, it's all right.
I built it.
Oh, really?
Yeah.
And that qualifies
you for this mission?
Uh, excuse me, is
there a shortage
of deep depth research crews?
Dr. Northcut had
some experience
with unexplained
marine phenomena.
Unexplained marine phenomena.
Oh, you're the guy.
You saw a giant shark once.
A megalodon.
Megalodon?
That's right.
Super shark,
big as a dinosaur.
Except there's one problem
with Dr. Northcut's story--
megs became extinct about
40 million years ago.
Harrington, do you always
have to be like that?
It's all right.
It's all right.
I'm going back to
the main bridge.
Don't worry
about Dr. Northcut.
He's highly qualified, and
we're going to need him.
You should know better
than to bring Captain Ahab
to the bottom of the ocean.
Fuck.
[music playing]
Dr. Northcut.
Cheryl, right?
[sighs]
What are you doing here?
Dr. Adler brought me over from
the bar to make theology staff.
I'm running the lab.
Well, last night,
you seemed like--
I seemed like, what,
a fawning grad student?
Some squeeze rented
out for dinner?
I didn't mean
to offend you, OK?
That's all right.
I didn't think
much of you either.
Is there something
I can help you with?
Actually, yes, I'd like to see
the plans of the DSS complex,
please.
Good luck.
You good?
OK, go.
Watch out for the megs.
[music playing]
It looks like the
dormitory sealed itself off
from the rest of the
facility, probably
trapping the crew in the
lab and the control room.
These walls didn't
buckle at all.
The debris field is pretty wide.
But why is the damage
so localized though?
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO): Your
guess is as good as mine.
Spence, how are you doing?
SPENCER NORTHCUT (ON
RADIO): I'm working
along the outer wall near the
point of the official breach.
The cavity is at
least 18 feet across,
but there's no blast
pattern indicators.
It's just massive
structural failure.
It's pretty dark down here.
I need more light.
Hit the flats.
Jesus!
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
What do you got?
SPENCER NORTHCUT:
It was a worker.
[music playing]
Hello.
I think we have a winner.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
What do you got?
The feeling we've bitten
off more than we can chew.
Where's Cheryl?
Uh, she's in the galley.
Adler speaking, request
preparing the mini sub.
Why didn't you tell
me she was on this crew?
Hm, I didn't think you cared.
What'd you come up with?
Look at it.
WILL ADLER: Megalodon.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Mhm.
That can't be right.
Base enamel indicates
a young adult.
We're talking about
a 60 to 70 foot
shark, 30 to 35 tons at least.
Everything checks out.
Except the fact that megs
disappeared sometime around
the early Pleistocene period.
That's right.
That's over 40
million years ago.
Mhm.
Your dating's awful.
Well, what--
what do you think?
You think I'm lying to
you to cover my ass?
I didn't say that.
Well, let me
show you something.
Yeah, go ahead.
You see this?
The enamel is
perfectly preserved.
It's not a fossil.
Look at it.
Wow, damn scary.
No, there's a mistake somewhere.
What?
You want to send
it back to Barton
so they can analyze it
and say the same thing?
Now, listen to me.
Let's say there's a
group of megalodons
living in deep waters,
undetected by DSVs or sonar
for years.
Now, the seafloor shifts.
New vents open up.
Water heats up.
So they have to descend
into cooler waters.
It's plausible,
except one little thing.
What?
That they are extinct.
The coelacanth was
extinct until a fisherman
found it in his net in 1938.
And the coelacanth was from
the same evolutionary period
as the megalodon.
Interesting theory,
except the coelacanth is
a three foot long fish at best.
The megalodon is 60 plus feet.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Yeah.
And you think that
a fish that size
could remain invisible
for 40 million years.
Yes.
No.
No, that's impossible.
It's not impossible, Will.
Ah, a voice of reason,
good timing, Cheryl.
Spence, my esteemed yet
delusional colleague
thinks this belongs
to a megalodon.
Interesting theory.
You two figure it out.
I'm going upstairs to see
if French and Harrington
have the mini sub running.
This is what you found
in the DSS wreckage?
Yeah.
What can you tell
me about this fish?
The megalodon?
Try me.
All right, a little
scientific question and answer.
Why is it here today?
No, no, it's a
paleontological certainty that--
that megs disappeared
40 million years
after the dinosaurs became--
what, it's a
possibility that the meg
was never really extinct?
Continue.
More life exists in the
deep sea than anywhere else.
And so maybe this species has
survived in small numbers.
Because of a shrinking food
supply or tectonic shifting,
it's moving towards the surface.
Now, why would it
attack the DSS complex?
Territorial response.
This was the undisputed
king of the oceans.
Nothing could challenge it.
So if it senses something to
eat, and you're in the way,
you're in the way.
What if, uh, we're in the way?
Hm?
[music playing]
So did you tell Barton
about the meg tooth?
I said I am analyzing
some biological evidence.
I'm not ready to tell them
we are looking for an extinct
prehistoric shark.
But you do believe me, right?
Well, I'm keeping
an open mind.
You might be onto something
with your vent theory.
A series of plans between the
Juan de Fuca and the Pacific
plates, plus an
adjacent migratory
road for at least three
different species of whale.
The migratory
route is right here.
This right here is a perfect
feeding grounds for the meg.
We could take it out right in
its own backyard, right here.
What do you mean,
"take it out?"
Spence, let's get
something straight.
If we are on the threshold
of a major discovery,
we will go out, locate,
and capture this creature,
not destroy it.
Listen, Spence, it's an
absolute improbability
that this thing has anything
to do with your past.
What makes you so sure?
The point is that we
are a research vessel, not
a tool for a personal crusade.
Look, Spence, I need you
with a clear head on board.
All right.
Good.
[music playing]
What are you
doing in there, Doc?
What do you mean?
In here, in this closet
full of canned heat.
I'm just looking.
For what?
I'm just checking
things out, that's all.
Right.
These are, uh, impact
torpedoes, extremely
dangerous, just like you.
What's your
problem, Harrington?
You.
I know your whole story.
I know why Barton didn't
re-sign you after the Argus.
Yeah?
Why is that?
Because you're a fucking
lunatic with fringe ideas.
Do you have any idea
about what I found?
You found a big
fucking tooth--
big fucking deal.
Stay the hell out
of my torpedo room.
Why are you so worried?
Because of you finally
cracking and taking
the rest of us with you.
I'm the least
of your problems.
Stay out of my torpedo room.
Will?
WILL ADLER: Yeah?
I know Dr. Northcut
is a friend of yours.
But, um--
So what?
It's a serious game down here.
Give him a break.
This isn't Spencer's
first deep sea mission.
He knows what he's doing.
Yeah, well, he might not be
wrapped as tight as you think.
He just might pop.
What do you think he's going
to do, jeopardize the Argus?
He-- I'm watching out for
all of our asses down here.
You hear what I'm saying?
If he starts to go off, I'm
going to have to deal with him.
Piloting the mini
sub is your job.
Deal with that, OK?
Yeah, all right.
[music playing]
[gasping]
Oh, Jesus.
Roger, Argus 177 has received.
Good night, sir.
Add in 300-12 knots.
Pending 300-12 knots.
Spence?
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Hey.
There you are.
How are you doing?
Good.
I got some information
from the area control.
Fishing 10 that was
passing a school off killer
whales when something huge
in the water attacked them.
Are you ready?
Are you?
OK, to find the
meg, we can use
what we know from the meg's
smaller cousins, the mako,
tiger, and great white.
This is the lateral line.
This network of
neuro maps and canals
can detect external
motion and helps pinpoint
potential prey and predators.
So basically, boats,
whales, schools
of fish, anything moving water
as far as 100 miles away,
can be detected and located.
These are the
ampullae of Lorenzini,
gel-filled pits which work
as electrical sensors.
Now, the ampullae can
detect even the weakest
electrical field generated by
all fish and prey, even though
cycling at or around
40 megahertz, which
is similar to a small
fish in distress.
These and a directional sense of
smell which can detect one part
blood in 100 parts water
is all that the meg needs
to detect, stalk, and attack.
Needs?
Don't you mean "needed?"
What are you talking about?
What I'm talking about is
we're buying into this theory
that we're chasing
a prehistoric fish.
Why don't you
shut up and listen?
You are the guy in
the front lines.
Remember that.
Imagine this attached
to Jaws, capable of 40,000
pounds per square
inch of biting power.
Not bad for an old fish, huh?
Look, Harrington, the point
is, you combine all of this
with the attack velocity of a
public bus slamming into you
at a crosswalk, and we
see why this creature
dominated the oceans
for millions of years.
Let's prep the harpoon turret.
OK.
Now, we know how these B-17
nose gunners must have felt.
Yeah, but they
had 250 calibers.
Yeah, but this is designed
to shoot radio tags.
Yeah, but now we're
shooting something
that packs a bigger punch.
Right.
OK, imagine, ketamine
with phenobarbital,
1,000 milligram slugs, one in
the dorsal, one in the tail.
Strap a harness
around, tow it back
to the bottom holding tanks--
our job is done.
You want to strap
a harness around
and toe it back to Barton?
That's my plan exactly.
Harrington, you will
be able to sedate it?
Pump 4,000 or 5,000 milligrams
of phenobarbital into anything,
and it will drop down faster
a girl's dress at prom night.
I'm glad you're so confident.
Once it's lights out, I
pull in with the mini sub,
lock the harness straps down.
Tchenko can tighten
it to our winches.
[sighs] No, no.
[alarm sounding]
Uh-oh.
Show time.
Now you believe me, huh, about
what happened to my family?
Come on, Spence.
It's not a matter
of believing you.
Whatever is out there will
confirm that, won't it?
Well, let's hope
your team knows exactly
what we're dealing with here.
They know.
Don't worry about that.
Well, let me
tell you something.
If I'm right about
what I saw, then
I'm the only person
who's ever lived
through it to talk about it.
Do you understand that?
[music playing]
[computer beeping]
We've got a signal.
How strong?
Sending it to your screen now.
Come on.
Come on.
(SINGING) Let's get serious.
Let's get serious.
Let's get serious.
All right, guys.
Let's get serious.
Ready to rock and roll?
Can I get an amen?
Amen.
Tchenko, Tchenko,
do you read me?
Yes.
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Keep those hands crossed.
Let's get a clean target.
I don't want a
harpoon stuck up my ass.
All right, all right.
Oh, where's my hat?
Where's my hat?
Where's my hat?
Don't dive without my cap.
Good luck, boss.
ROB HARRINGTON: All right.
[sighs]
Let's cut.
[computer beeping]
[music playing]
900 meters and closing.
OK, how much?
10 at 1,000 milligrams each.
Now, any more, and
you'll kill it.
You understand?
OK, [inaudible].
Just stay back.
I need to concentrate, OK?
- You understand me, don't you?
- Of course.
[sighs]
Harpoon servos are good.
Harrington, are you ready?
Full immersion
in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
We're in.
700 meters, 60
degrees off starboard.
Check for refraction.
It might be a school of fish.
[sonar beeping]
I got sonar.
Let's do a little visual.
Good luck.
Harrington, you
must see it by now.
All that chum
clouded up the water.
[sonar beeping]
Does anyone have a
visual on this thing yet?
All right,
Harrington, hold back.
I want to use the
Argus as a shield.
I still don't see shit.
Port side down till
we get it in sight.
All right, cutting power, 60%.
[sonar beeping]
What the hell?
Adler, we have visual.
It's a god damn
train with teeth.
It's at least 60 feet, 70, 80
feet at least, 40 tons plus.
Guys, we're going to
need a bigger sub.
Can you fire a
tracking tag into it?
Are you fucking kidding?
That's Tchenko's job.
He's got a little more sub
to back himself up with.
Harrington, you're going to have
to take the first swing, man.
Well, you know that
story of David and Goliath?
Well, me in this mini sub is
like Bambi versus Godzilla.
I'm pulling back to the
Argus just like you said.
Wait, wait, wait, wait,
she's veering 16 degrees
at 10 knots to you port side.
Soup's hot.
Circling around.
Hugging the port side hull.
And we're set-- standing by.
Spence, are you OK?
Yeah, yeah, I'm OK.
She's coming back.
Ready?
Full screens to port side now.
Pulling starboard.
[sonar beeping]
Spear firing.
Missed.
Reload.
Firing.
Come on in.
She's descending
fast, Tchenko.
Pull in your slack.
Val, switch to
tranquilizer slugs.
Standby.
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON RADIO):
Harpoons in the water.
Got two in her.
That's two mils in her.
That should slow her down.
Listen to me
Listen to me, Will.
Does this seem to be
slowing her down at all?
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Harness seems ready.
Harrington she's on you, man.
Get out of there.
Get out of there now.
Oh, no, she's going under us.
French, the mini
sub is coming up.
OK, get ready to bring him up.
Surfacing in 6, 5, 4, 3--
Ah.
Ah!
[music playing]
French, what the hell
is going on down there?
It came through the moon pool.
Peters is gone.
Ah, no.
Come on.
Help me up.
Listen, we've got
a red line here.
She's pulling us down.
Harrington, she's
pulling us down.
I need you to cut
the tow cable now.
I'm on it.
Cut it.
I'm on it.
I'm on it.
WILL ADLER: Harrington, cut it.
Tchenko, where is she?
What's going on?
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON
RADIO): I've got no visual.
I got her--
firing tranqs.
Firing two more in her.
Cheryl, why isn't the
tranquilizer working?
I don't know.
That's 4,000 mils in her.
Then why isn't it working?
I don't know.
Tell them I'm port side now.
I'll spring the
first harness to you.
[grunts]
[computer beeping]
I've got an engine out.
I've got shit for juice.
We've got structural
damage, half tanks.
This ship isn't going to
take another punch like that.
And now we got ballast
damage, front tanks.
Listen, we're going down.
I need to-- I need to blow
out the ballast right now.
No, Spencer, you can't do it.
Will, we've got no choice.
I've got to do it.
WILL ADLER: No.
[booming]
[bubbling]
You just blew
our oxygen reserve.
We were going down
to the ground, OK?
We have bigger problems.
We're leveled off
at 3,000 meters.
But unless we get those
ballast release valves fixed,
we are stuck.
With less than 40
hours of oxygen left.
Come on, people.
Talk to me.
Anyone got the fish on sonar?
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON
RADIO): [inaudible] going.
Good, now, get your asses over
here and get me back inside.
Listen, man, we got a
little problem on our own.
You know the ballasts
are totally jammed.
We have limited
mobility right now.
That's just fucking great.
[sonar beeping]
Harrington, it's
right behind you.
Oh, shit.
Listen, man, the
meg is closing, man.
It's heading straight
for him right now.
He's not going to make it.
Yes, he is.
Listen, Will, I need
you to take over.
Pilot the ship.
Co-pilot, take over.
My god.
The co-pilot is down.
OK, then let's do it.
Let me pilot.
Let me pilot.
- Why?
It's the only way.
Trust me.
Come on.
Harrington, Harrington,
this is Spence.
Do you read me?
OK, I need you to listen to me
carefully right now, you hear?
What?
SPENCER NORTHCUT (ON
RADIO): [garbled]
On three, I need
you to drop on a 4.5.
I'm going to shoot
a harpoon at you.
- What?
- Just do it.
Try to switch to auto pilot.
Push the red button slowly.
Yes.
3--
Tchenko?
2--
What's happening down there?
Fire.
Ah.
Got you.
Harrington, are you all right?
Fuck you, Northcut.
I'm going to
bring you back in.
You are crazy, you know that?
Harrington, just hold on.
I got you.
I got you.
Will, Will, do you read me?
What's going on down there?
He's with us.
I got him.
I'm bringing him back in.
[sonar beeping]
Harrington, she's
still closing.
Come on.
Get me the hell out of here.
How fast can the
winch pull him in?
WILL ADLER: I don't know.
We'll find out.
300 meters and closing.
OK, you motherfucker.
Tchenko, I need you to
reload the tranquilizers now,
all of them.
Are you done?
Reset.
Shit.
Come on, you guys.
Come on.
Fire.
She's still coming.
Fire again.
Reload.
Reload again.
You son of a bitch.
Fucking come on already.
We're ready.
[music playing]
[groaning]
What's going on?
Talk to me.
- We're clear now.
Ah, fuck, ah, oh,
oh, oh, oh, shit.
Oh, uh.
That was close.
What did you say?
That was close.
Close?
That thing had its god damn
mouth of meat cleavers close.
Fuck close.
Where's Peters?
JUSTIN FRENCH: He's gone.
Shark came straight through
the pool and got him.
Oh, shit.
[groans]
- Fuck.
Come on.
Sit down.
Sit down.
- Ah.
Just sit down.
Just relax.
I think I owe you one.
Don't worry.
You would have done
the same for me.
Oh, don't be so sure.
Think we can put
it back together?
Oh, my god, are you OK?
I'm OK.
I'm OK.
Son of a bitch.
Spence?
I, uh, I'm really sorry.
You know, sometimes,
you don't believe
a thing until you see it.
And I believe it.
I've seen it.
I'm sorry.
It's all right.
I'm just glad you're all right.
Just have a seat.
Just relax.
Go take care of that shoulder.
Whew.
Cheryl, do we have
any Zarkon B on board?
No, why would
we have Zarkon B?
We're trying to capture
it, not kill it.
Think about it.
Do you think this thing is going
to let us sedate it while we
tow it back into the mainland?
Think about it.
This thing is fundamentally
the most significant scientific
discovery in marine biology.
It-- it needs to be
isolated and protected.
Protected?
Who was there to protect my
family and that technician
on a dry docks?
You want to ask his
family what they think,
if we should protect it?
So your solution
is to destroy it.
Yes, that's it.
OK, that's not very
scientific, Dr. Northcut.
This is not about
science anymore.
This is about survival.
[computer beeping]
She'll dive now,
but the ballast
tanks won't take you out again.
Fucking fish busted
up everything.
Helm's yours.
Stay back.
Stay back.
Shit.
We have to access the
control panel from outside.
You mean in the water?
Someone's going
to have to dive.
I'm not going out there.
Neither am I.
Shit.
Air scrappers are damaged,
no oxygen reserves--
we might have six hours
of breathable air left.
The ballasts are history
unless someone can go out
and replace the control valve.
Don't look at me, not
until that shark is gone.
I thought you knew what you
were getting yourself into.
I said we could handle it.
Who's delusional now, Will?
We've got to deal
with the fact here.
The tables have been turned.
We have to kill it.
I'm not making that call.
Well, I say make that call.
I'm not really
interested in being
remembered for the Harrington
Memorial Marine Institute.
I wouldn't worry about that.
Look here, baby cakes, I'm
about tired of your mouth.
You know--
All right, knock it off.
We need solutions.
All right, the way I see
it, we've got two choices.
One, we ready for
rescue and hope they
get to us before the meg does.
Rescue?
The ballasts are fucked.
We cannot surface.
No, no, no, the rescue bell--
clamp it onto the entry hatch.
A rescue bell, you going
to clamp the rescue bell
with that thing in the water?
I don't know.
Fine.
What's the other choice?
We have to kill it.
All right, but only if
there is no other choice.
There is no other.
No, I cannot believe
what I'm hearing.
We kill it.
No, this creature
could advance
marine anthropological science.
Have you not been
paying attention?
That shark has been beating
this sub like a naughty dog.
You got a better idea?
Pump it with phenobarbital,
wait it passes out, and then
continue with the capture.
Tchenko hit that thing
with over 10,000 milligrams.
- 12,000.
- 12,000.
So what the hell
is your plan now?
Look, we are scientists.
We have got to figure this out.
Cheryl, listen to
me for just a minute.
I know why you want to study
it, but that time is gone.
Now we're not in any
position or condition to toy
or-- or examine this meg.
We are out of our league.
Do you understand me?
No, you are doing exactly
what you've always wanted to do.
This is just about
fucking revenge.
I'm going to do what we should
have done in the first place.
Sorry, Cheryl.
[music playing]
Listen, Spence, I
don't think that Barton
wants us going after it
with blasting torpedoes.
Barton is not here, are they?
Maybe there is another way.
Like what?
Listen, we're out
of options here.
Come on.
One thing, these are
blasting torpedoes.
They've got a lot
of powder in them.
They weren't meant to be
detonated in the open water.
They were meant to be buried
deep in the ocean floor.
OK, we won't know the
range, and we won't
know the detonation power.
Harrington, let me
ask you something.
Can you modify them
to explode on impact?
With the condition this
sub is in, we can't detonate
these things within 500 meters.
But we've got to get a
directional beacon on the shark
before we can kill it.
OK, what about if you put the
beacon on the side of the mini
sub?
And the torpedo on the other?
That's fucking suicide, man.
OK, don't worry about that.
I will pilot the mini sub.
Just-- just get a
lock on the shark.
Then it's me and
Frenchy here, nobody else.
How much longer?
20 minutes.
You've got five.
All right.
How close is it?
1,000 meters off the stern.
[sonar beeping]
I'm going to try and get
a visual from the turret.
Done.
Six minutes, not bad.
Adler, she's operational.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO): Dr.
Northcut is on his way.
300 yards.
God damn it, she's circling.
JUSTIN FRENCH: You sure
you know what you're doing?
I mean, I just got
the thing fixed.
Yeah, I know how to
pilot one of these.
Good luck.
Thank you.
Keep your rudder
on an even keel.
French, talk to me.
Two control sticks,
one for each engine.
Ballast controls here, Navy
fuel regulators up here.
Check.
Hydrogen fuel cell, turn
that handle for a speed
burn then reset it.
Check.
JUSTIN FRENCH (ON RADIO):
This thing is no bike.
That's pure propellant.
You turn that one at
1,000 feet or less.
Turn the hydrogen to 35.
What happens if
I turn them both?
How fast you want to go?
SPENCER NORTHCU(ON RADIO): I want
to go faster than Harrington.
Dual cells, 3,500 feet, that's
an eight second vert, tops.
Then what?
Too much pressure,
and boom, it ruptures.
OK, got it, eight seconds.
JUSTIN FRENCH (ON
RADIO): I wouldn't chance
a burn for more than five.
You got it?
Eight seconds and this thing
blows like a hydrogen bomb.
OK.
Thanks, French.
Tubes are flooded.
Ready to launch.
Will, I'm spotting
in the turret--
no visual yet.
Spencer?
Yeah, I read you, Will.
Are you ready to submerge?
Yeah, I'm ready.
Be careful.
If I see a chance
to capture the meg,
I want your word that we
still have that option.
Standby to submerge.
Dr. Adler, do you hear me?
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
How is she driving?
Everything seems to
be responding just fine.
Seems to be a little
sluggish still.
But I'll take care of it, Will.
Don't worry about that.
Sluggish, my ass.
The guy doesn't know
how to drive it.
Relax, French.
You want to be driving?
God, it's beautiful.
Do you have it in sight?
Everybody hang on.
[groaning]
That's starboard side.
I'm going to try
to draw it away.
Ah.
Jesus Christ, want to give
us a little warning up there?
Spencer, do you read me?
Firing the first harpoon.
Fire.
You're too close
for torpedoes.
OK, I'm going to bring
it across your bough.
Copy that.
Come on.
OK, Will, beacon is on.
I got a lock on
the tracking beacon.
That son of a bitch.
He's burning his
cells up too fast.
Watch your fuel.
Come on.
He's over 600 meters out.
I think we should fire.
Hold on.
Hold on.
Come on, you son of a bitch.
Fire.
Creating the thrust.
[groaning]
Direct hit.
Under mount him.
Motherfucker.
Reload.
Crazy son of a
bitch, I like him.
Spencer, do you read me?
Spencer?
Will, I hear you.
I'm here.
You're back.
Whew.
Good man.
Will, Will, listen, I--
I got serious control damage.
But, uh, the internal
generators are-- are still
functioning at the moment.
So that's good.
Listen, I'm going to try
to come around again.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
Spencer, get back.
This is an order.
Will, listen to me.
Maybe this is the
only chance we've got.
Let me cross in front of
you and pivot with me.
Harrington, do you read me?
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Ready with number two.
Uh-oh.
Listen, the back up
drive is failing.
The core battery
is completely shut.
Will, I'm losing you.
What's going on?
Argus, your radio
is cutting out.
Argus, can you read me?
CHERYL (ON RADIO): [garbled]
- Shit.
Say it again.
I'm losing you.
CHERYL (ON RADIO): [garbled]
Argus, it's-- it's
heading for you.
[music playing]
She's coming around again.
Harrington, French,
get ready to fire.
Ready to fire.
Oh, my god.
Harrington, [garbled]
- What did she say?
- Try the mic.
Cheryl, come in.
Harrington do not fire.
Harrington, do not fire.
Come in.
God damn it.
Harrington, Harrington,
can you hear me?
[garbled]
Seal the bulkheads.
Seal the bulkheads.
What the fuck are
you talking about?
Cheryl's down there.
What are you saying?
What the hell (GARBLING)
are you saying?
That's the most exposed
section of the ship.
If the torpedo detonates,
we will all die.
Harrington, do not fire.
Harrington, your
torpedo's blocked.
Do not [garbled].
Seal the bulkheads.
Seal the bulkheads.
Harrington!
Ah.
The torpedo is jammed.
Do not [garbled].
[groaning]
Oh, god.
It's in range.
Fire.
Ah.
[music playing]
RESCUE SUBMARINE
WORKER (ON RADIO):
Rescue vessel
Battalion to the Argus.
We're two hours away
from your position.
Copy.
I copy.
This is Dr. Spencer Northcut.
I'm calling you from
the Argus mini sub.
The Argus is down.
I repeat, the Argus is down.
RESCUE SUBMARINE WORKER (ON
RADIO): Please say again.
What's the extent of the damage?
How many survivors?
There are no survivors.
I'm the only one left.
RESCUE SUBMARINE WORKER (ON
RADIO): OK, hold your position.
Transmit your coordinates.
Copy that.
[music playing]
[alarm sounding]
MR. NORTHCUT (VOICEOVER):
And that would
be the giant man-eating squid.
Can't let it scare you, buddy.
[music playing]
[clatter]
Whoa.
Oh.
[splashing]
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Whoa.
What's the matter, son?
What was that?
That would be the
giant man-eating squid
that inhabits these waters.
But you can't see
him, especially
in dark waters like this.
No, but he's there.
When you're watching, he just
sort of sneaks up from behind,
and all of the sudden-- ah.
Sorry.
Sorry, I was just kidding, son.
Um, it's a dolphin maybe, or
some driftwood that came up
from the bottom of the ocean.
[sighs] There's going to
be a lot of bumps tonight,
buddy, especially on a
foggy night like this.
Can't let it scare
you, buddy, OK?
OK.
Huh?
OK.
OK.
OK.
MRS. NORTHCUT: Dishes, Frank.
Dishes, Frank.
MRS. NORTHCUT: Help me, please.
I'm going to be
in big trouble.
I gotta go.
OK.
OK.
[music playing]
Mom, Dad.
What's wrong, Spence?
Hang on.
Ah!
[screaming]
[heavy breathing]
[music playing]
Dr. Northcut?
[sighs] Sorry, excuse me.
Um, from Beebe and
Barton's bathysphere
to Alvin and now Britain's
newest Vanguard series,
these machines allow us
to reach the ocean floor.
But they'll run you $30
million apiece, break down,
and usually, all you get back
is distorted underwater video
of dirt and water.
So you tell me.
What's the point of
having them around?
Yes?
To search for more
oil, more energy sources.
That's close.
Yes?
Protect endangered
habitats or species.
That's cuddly,
but close again.
Why?
In a word-- answers.
Before we can begin to
drill for offshore oil
or save endangered
deep sea species,
we need to ask questions.
And these machines go down
and bring back answers.
Excuse me for just a minute.
Will, won't you come in?
I got the vote today.
Due to new sponsorship,
Bottom Industries officially
declined your exploratory
grant and the use
of the Argus research sub.
I did what I could.
A new team got picked
up by sponsors, right?
Listen, Spence, all I know,
it's not going to be you.
Will, I built that sub.
Sorry, class,
we'll end it early.
Soggy, I need that report.
Thank you.
Look, Spencer, I
did what I could.
Yeah, I bet you
really pushed the board.
Fine.
You helped build it.
So submit your proposal
in six months again.
You want me to
wait six months?
Yes.
Did I make Barton wait for
the conversion and retrofitting?
And did they wait
for [inaudible]
with dynamic composites,
improved propulsion,
ballast systems, and sonar
mapping software, huh?
Spencer, get it straight.
It's not your sub.
Do you understand?
[music playing]
[music playing on headphones]
[computer beeping]
[computer beeping]
Uh, guys, I got a
signal bearing down on us.
Do you see anything out there?
[computer beeping]
Negative.
We don't see shit out here.
Nothing out there.
Let's finish up.
I got a nice cold one waiting.
[computer beeping]
Damn.
I don't know what
to tell you guys.
Sonar might be fucked up.
A school of fish maybe?
Maybe it's the transport
sub coming to our side.
Ah, not likely.
Large pressure sub?
SUBMARINE WORKER 1: Whatever
it is, we can't see shit.
Revolt, I told you
we're going to screw
up the operating system
loading those stupid ass games.
SUBMARINE WORKER 2: Nothing's
wrong with the system.
I'm telling you.
Something very big
is closing fast.
You sure you guys
don't see anything?
SUBMARINE WORKER 1: Nothing.
Now quit screwing around.
We're going to have to
service the outside terminal.
[music playing]
Ah!
Charlie?
Get the hell out of there.
Get the hell out of there.
Ah!
Ah, it's you again.
If you're not here to tell me
Barton changed their minds,
don't even bother, man.
At 3:20 this afternoon, Bottom
Industries specific DSS complex
folded.
It was completely destroyed,
killing the entire research
staff and facilities crew.
No survivors,
total decompression?
Initial damage
report indicates
a massive breach followed
by an immediate loss
of pressurization.
Down 1,900 feet, nothing
could have survived.
What caused the breach?
We don't know yet.
Come on.
Let's get out of here.
Yeah.
The true story--
diving friend of mine
works for the US
Bureau of Reclamation.
Swims down to the
bottom of the Colorado
Dam every six month to clean
grates on floor intakes.
Anyway, he goes
down to the bottom.
Water is all dark, murky.
And he sees a giant
flathead catfish.
This thing is
huge, big as a car.
A catfish as big as a car?
May I finish?
Like I said, the guy
goes down, face to face
with this monster catfish.
He turns like mad
for the surface
and tells the others
up top what he saw.
No one believes him.
Can't imagine why.
The guy says, go down
and see for yourself.
So another diver goes
down and comes back up.
Tells the first
diver that he also
saw the monster
catfish, big as a car,
opening and closing its
mouth, just watching him.
The second diver
noticed something round
above the upper jaw.
What was it?
It was a chrome hood emblem
from a '72 Volkswagen bug.
[scoffs] All that for--
hm.
See, Spence, it wasn't
a monster catfish at all.
It was a sunken car, and the
current was opening and closing
the hood like a mouth.
What did you think
it was, Dr. Northcut?
An analogy-- some things
are not what they seem.
Isn't that right-- like an
11-year-old boy saw something
take his family away from him?
Then again, um, I'm going to get
myself something else to drink.
Excuse me.
Come on, Sp--
excuse me.
I thought you wanted
to have another drink.
What's this bullshit, Will?
First you tell me the DSS
complex was destroyed.
Then you ask me to dinner
with your new squeeze.
What the hell do
you want from me?
Answers.
Answers.
What happened to the DSS?
Well, how the hell
should I know?
All you told me is that there
was a sudden decompression.
All we got is the sonar
feed just before the impact.
Something huge hit it.
Well, we know it
wasn't a-- a submarine.
Maybe it could have been
a huge seismic shift,
a freak undercurrent, some
sort of massive fissure.
I don't know.
- You're reaching.
No, I am trying to get
back on my sub, Will.
Now, if you're here to pick
on my brain, you picked it.
I got better things
to do than hang
out with you and your student.
I'll see you later.
Check, please.
Miss, can I have
my coat, please?
Thank you.
Listen, guys, I've
got some work to do.
So I'm going to jump
in a cab, all right?
Spence, this is one of
your biggest problems.
What's that?
Listening.
I'm listening.
Pack a bag.
Check in at Barton Port
Station tomorrow at 600 hours.
What for?
Bottom won't wait for
the Navy's investigations.
They want answers now.
And they want us
to go find them.
Congratulations, Spence.
You're back on the Argus.
Good night, Doctor.
[music playing]
How are you feeling?
I feel good.
[laughs]
Did you imagine it like this?
I did.
I certainly did.
Yeah, baby.
[laughs] [sighs]
I want you to meet somebody.
This is Valentin Tchenko, our
helmsman and chief mechanic.
Dr. Spencer Northcut
had a hand in the design
and construction of the Argus.
Wow, nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you too.
What's our heading?
270, right?
Whew, correct.
How is she handling?
The rim propulsion is
working fine, much better
than her days in the Navy.
I want you to see something.
Sure.
It's nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
Heading 280.
This is our latest
toy from Bottom.
Titanium shell,
[inaudible] portals,
twin oxygen rebreathers
good for five
hours without an umbilical.
Hydropropulsion, I mean, this
thing runs on fuel pellets.
It looks like it's been, uh,
operational for a while, huh?
And decent thrust
and responsive
even down at 3,500 feet.
3,500 feet.
This is the only
manned submersible
that can go that deep.
Right.
Guys, say hello to
Dr. Spencer Northcut.
And may I introduce
you to Justin French--
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Hi.
WILL ADLER: --our computer
and robotics technician?
Gotta hand it to you, Doc.
You did a serious
overhaul in me.
Thank you very much.
Peters-- and
the gentleman with
the power drill in his
hands is Rob Harrington,
our mini sub pilot.
Hi.
How's she run?
She's fast.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Yeah?
Built for punishments,
especially with yours truly
on the sticks.
I hope so.
Because whatever caused
the DSS complex to fold
will probably crush this
thing like a beer can.
Yeah.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: That's right.
So, what, am I supposed
to be scared now?
I'm just saying.
We don't know what we're
dealing with here yet.
Well, if you're scared,
you don't belong down here.
So how the hell did you
get on the sub anyway?
- Dr. Spencer--
- Will, it's all right.
I built it.
Oh, really?
Yeah.
And that qualifies
you for this mission?
Uh, excuse me, is
there a shortage
of deep depth research crews?
Dr. Northcut had
some experience
with unexplained
marine phenomena.
Unexplained marine phenomena.
Oh, you're the guy.
You saw a giant shark once.
A megalodon.
Megalodon?
That's right.
Super shark,
big as a dinosaur.
Except there's one problem
with Dr. Northcut's story--
megs became extinct about
40 million years ago.
Harrington, do you always
have to be like that?
It's all right.
It's all right.
I'm going back to
the main bridge.
Don't worry
about Dr. Northcut.
He's highly qualified, and
we're going to need him.
You should know better
than to bring Captain Ahab
to the bottom of the ocean.
Fuck.
[music playing]
Dr. Northcut.
Cheryl, right?
[sighs]
What are you doing here?
Dr. Adler brought me over from
the bar to make theology staff.
I'm running the lab.
Well, last night,
you seemed like--
I seemed like, what,
a fawning grad student?
Some squeeze rented
out for dinner?
I didn't mean
to offend you, OK?
That's all right.
I didn't think
much of you either.
Is there something
I can help you with?
Actually, yes, I'd like to see
the plans of the DSS complex,
please.
Good luck.
You good?
OK, go.
Watch out for the megs.
[music playing]
It looks like the
dormitory sealed itself off
from the rest of the
facility, probably
trapping the crew in the
lab and the control room.
These walls didn't
buckle at all.
The debris field is pretty wide.
But why is the damage
so localized though?
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO): Your
guess is as good as mine.
Spence, how are you doing?
SPENCER NORTHCUT (ON
RADIO): I'm working
along the outer wall near the
point of the official breach.
The cavity is at
least 18 feet across,
but there's no blast
pattern indicators.
It's just massive
structural failure.
It's pretty dark down here.
I need more light.
Hit the flats.
Jesus!
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
What do you got?
SPENCER NORTHCUT:
It was a worker.
[music playing]
Hello.
I think we have a winner.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
What do you got?
The feeling we've bitten
off more than we can chew.
Where's Cheryl?
Uh, she's in the galley.
Adler speaking, request
preparing the mini sub.
Why didn't you tell
me she was on this crew?
Hm, I didn't think you cared.
What'd you come up with?
Look at it.
WILL ADLER: Megalodon.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Mhm.
That can't be right.
Base enamel indicates
a young adult.
We're talking about
a 60 to 70 foot
shark, 30 to 35 tons at least.
Everything checks out.
Except the fact that megs
disappeared sometime around
the early Pleistocene period.
That's right.
That's over 40
million years ago.
Mhm.
Your dating's awful.
Well, what--
what do you think?
You think I'm lying to
you to cover my ass?
I didn't say that.
Well, let me
show you something.
Yeah, go ahead.
You see this?
The enamel is
perfectly preserved.
It's not a fossil.
Look at it.
Wow, damn scary.
No, there's a mistake somewhere.
What?
You want to send
it back to Barton
so they can analyze it
and say the same thing?
Now, listen to me.
Let's say there's a
group of megalodons
living in deep waters,
undetected by DSVs or sonar
for years.
Now, the seafloor shifts.
New vents open up.
Water heats up.
So they have to descend
into cooler waters.
It's plausible,
except one little thing.
What?
That they are extinct.
The coelacanth was
extinct until a fisherman
found it in his net in 1938.
And the coelacanth was from
the same evolutionary period
as the megalodon.
Interesting theory,
except the coelacanth is
a three foot long fish at best.
The megalodon is 60 plus feet.
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Yeah.
And you think that
a fish that size
could remain invisible
for 40 million years.
Yes.
No.
No, that's impossible.
It's not impossible, Will.
Ah, a voice of reason,
good timing, Cheryl.
Spence, my esteemed yet
delusional colleague
thinks this belongs
to a megalodon.
Interesting theory.
You two figure it out.
I'm going upstairs to see
if French and Harrington
have the mini sub running.
This is what you found
in the DSS wreckage?
Yeah.
What can you tell
me about this fish?
The megalodon?
Try me.
All right, a little
scientific question and answer.
Why is it here today?
No, no, it's a
paleontological certainty that--
that megs disappeared
40 million years
after the dinosaurs became--
what, it's a
possibility that the meg
was never really extinct?
Continue.
More life exists in the
deep sea than anywhere else.
And so maybe this species has
survived in small numbers.
Because of a shrinking food
supply or tectonic shifting,
it's moving towards the surface.
Now, why would it
attack the DSS complex?
Territorial response.
This was the undisputed
king of the oceans.
Nothing could challenge it.
So if it senses something to
eat, and you're in the way,
you're in the way.
What if, uh, we're in the way?
Hm?
[music playing]
So did you tell Barton
about the meg tooth?
I said I am analyzing
some biological evidence.
I'm not ready to tell them
we are looking for an extinct
prehistoric shark.
But you do believe me, right?
Well, I'm keeping
an open mind.
You might be onto something
with your vent theory.
A series of plans between the
Juan de Fuca and the Pacific
plates, plus an
adjacent migratory
road for at least three
different species of whale.
The migratory
route is right here.
This right here is a perfect
feeding grounds for the meg.
We could take it out right in
its own backyard, right here.
What do you mean,
"take it out?"
Spence, let's get
something straight.
If we are on the threshold
of a major discovery,
we will go out, locate,
and capture this creature,
not destroy it.
Listen, Spence, it's an
absolute improbability
that this thing has anything
to do with your past.
What makes you so sure?
The point is that we
are a research vessel, not
a tool for a personal crusade.
Look, Spence, I need you
with a clear head on board.
All right.
Good.
[music playing]
What are you
doing in there, Doc?
What do you mean?
In here, in this closet
full of canned heat.
I'm just looking.
For what?
I'm just checking
things out, that's all.
Right.
These are, uh, impact
torpedoes, extremely
dangerous, just like you.
What's your
problem, Harrington?
You.
I know your whole story.
I know why Barton didn't
re-sign you after the Argus.
Yeah?
Why is that?
Because you're a fucking
lunatic with fringe ideas.
Do you have any idea
about what I found?
You found a big
fucking tooth--
big fucking deal.
Stay the hell out
of my torpedo room.
Why are you so worried?
Because of you finally
cracking and taking
the rest of us with you.
I'm the least
of your problems.
Stay out of my torpedo room.
Will?
WILL ADLER: Yeah?
I know Dr. Northcut
is a friend of yours.
But, um--
So what?
It's a serious game down here.
Give him a break.
This isn't Spencer's
first deep sea mission.
He knows what he's doing.
Yeah, well, he might not be
wrapped as tight as you think.
He just might pop.
What do you think he's going
to do, jeopardize the Argus?
He-- I'm watching out for
all of our asses down here.
You hear what I'm saying?
If he starts to go off, I'm
going to have to deal with him.
Piloting the mini
sub is your job.
Deal with that, OK?
Yeah, all right.
[music playing]
[gasping]
Oh, Jesus.
Roger, Argus 177 has received.
Good night, sir.
Add in 300-12 knots.
Pending 300-12 knots.
Spence?
SPENCER NORTHCUT: Hey.
There you are.
How are you doing?
Good.
I got some information
from the area control.
Fishing 10 that was
passing a school off killer
whales when something huge
in the water attacked them.
Are you ready?
Are you?
OK, to find the
meg, we can use
what we know from the meg's
smaller cousins, the mako,
tiger, and great white.
This is the lateral line.
This network of
neuro maps and canals
can detect external
motion and helps pinpoint
potential prey and predators.
So basically, boats,
whales, schools
of fish, anything moving water
as far as 100 miles away,
can be detected and located.
These are the
ampullae of Lorenzini,
gel-filled pits which work
as electrical sensors.
Now, the ampullae can
detect even the weakest
electrical field generated by
all fish and prey, even though
cycling at or around
40 megahertz, which
is similar to a small
fish in distress.
These and a directional sense of
smell which can detect one part
blood in 100 parts water
is all that the meg needs
to detect, stalk, and attack.
Needs?
Don't you mean "needed?"
What are you talking about?
What I'm talking about is
we're buying into this theory
that we're chasing
a prehistoric fish.
Why don't you
shut up and listen?
You are the guy in
the front lines.
Remember that.
Imagine this attached
to Jaws, capable of 40,000
pounds per square
inch of biting power.
Not bad for an old fish, huh?
Look, Harrington, the point
is, you combine all of this
with the attack velocity of a
public bus slamming into you
at a crosswalk, and we
see why this creature
dominated the oceans
for millions of years.
Let's prep the harpoon turret.
OK.
Now, we know how these B-17
nose gunners must have felt.
Yeah, but they
had 250 calibers.
Yeah, but this is designed
to shoot radio tags.
Yeah, but now we're
shooting something
that packs a bigger punch.
Right.
OK, imagine, ketamine
with phenobarbital,
1,000 milligram slugs, one in
the dorsal, one in the tail.
Strap a harness
around, tow it back
to the bottom holding tanks--
our job is done.
You want to strap
a harness around
and toe it back to Barton?
That's my plan exactly.
Harrington, you will
be able to sedate it?
Pump 4,000 or 5,000 milligrams
of phenobarbital into anything,
and it will drop down faster
a girl's dress at prom night.
I'm glad you're so confident.
Once it's lights out, I
pull in with the mini sub,
lock the harness straps down.
Tchenko can tighten
it to our winches.
[sighs] No, no.
[alarm sounding]
Uh-oh.
Show time.
Now you believe me, huh, about
what happened to my family?
Come on, Spence.
It's not a matter
of believing you.
Whatever is out there will
confirm that, won't it?
Well, let's hope
your team knows exactly
what we're dealing with here.
They know.
Don't worry about that.
Well, let me
tell you something.
If I'm right about
what I saw, then
I'm the only person
who's ever lived
through it to talk about it.
Do you understand that?
[music playing]
[computer beeping]
We've got a signal.
How strong?
Sending it to your screen now.
Come on.
Come on.
(SINGING) Let's get serious.
Let's get serious.
Let's get serious.
All right, guys.
Let's get serious.
Ready to rock and roll?
Can I get an amen?
Amen.
Tchenko, Tchenko,
do you read me?
Yes.
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Keep those hands crossed.
Let's get a clean target.
I don't want a
harpoon stuck up my ass.
All right, all right.
Oh, where's my hat?
Where's my hat?
Where's my hat?
Don't dive without my cap.
Good luck, boss.
ROB HARRINGTON: All right.
[sighs]
Let's cut.
[computer beeping]
[music playing]
900 meters and closing.
OK, how much?
10 at 1,000 milligrams each.
Now, any more, and
you'll kill it.
You understand?
OK, [inaudible].
Just stay back.
I need to concentrate, OK?
- You understand me, don't you?
- Of course.
[sighs]
Harpoon servos are good.
Harrington, are you ready?
Full immersion
in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
We're in.
700 meters, 60
degrees off starboard.
Check for refraction.
It might be a school of fish.
[sonar beeping]
I got sonar.
Let's do a little visual.
Good luck.
Harrington, you
must see it by now.
All that chum
clouded up the water.
[sonar beeping]
Does anyone have a
visual on this thing yet?
All right,
Harrington, hold back.
I want to use the
Argus as a shield.
I still don't see shit.
Port side down till
we get it in sight.
All right, cutting power, 60%.
[sonar beeping]
What the hell?
Adler, we have visual.
It's a god damn
train with teeth.
It's at least 60 feet, 70, 80
feet at least, 40 tons plus.
Guys, we're going to
need a bigger sub.
Can you fire a
tracking tag into it?
Are you fucking kidding?
That's Tchenko's job.
He's got a little more sub
to back himself up with.
Harrington, you're going to have
to take the first swing, man.
Well, you know that
story of David and Goliath?
Well, me in this mini sub is
like Bambi versus Godzilla.
I'm pulling back to the
Argus just like you said.
Wait, wait, wait, wait,
she's veering 16 degrees
at 10 knots to you port side.
Soup's hot.
Circling around.
Hugging the port side hull.
And we're set-- standing by.
Spence, are you OK?
Yeah, yeah, I'm OK.
She's coming back.
Ready?
Full screens to port side now.
Pulling starboard.
[sonar beeping]
Spear firing.
Missed.
Reload.
Firing.
Come on in.
She's descending
fast, Tchenko.
Pull in your slack.
Val, switch to
tranquilizer slugs.
Standby.
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON RADIO):
Harpoons in the water.
Got two in her.
That's two mils in her.
That should slow her down.
Listen to me
Listen to me, Will.
Does this seem to be
slowing her down at all?
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Harness seems ready.
Harrington she's on you, man.
Get out of there.
Get out of there now.
Oh, no, she's going under us.
French, the mini
sub is coming up.
OK, get ready to bring him up.
Surfacing in 6, 5, 4, 3--
Ah.
Ah!
[music playing]
French, what the hell
is going on down there?
It came through the moon pool.
Peters is gone.
Ah, no.
Come on.
Help me up.
Listen, we've got
a red line here.
She's pulling us down.
Harrington, she's
pulling us down.
I need you to cut
the tow cable now.
I'm on it.
Cut it.
I'm on it.
I'm on it.
WILL ADLER: Harrington, cut it.
Tchenko, where is she?
What's going on?
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON
RADIO): I've got no visual.
I got her--
firing tranqs.
Firing two more in her.
Cheryl, why isn't the
tranquilizer working?
I don't know.
That's 4,000 mils in her.
Then why isn't it working?
I don't know.
Tell them I'm port side now.
I'll spring the
first harness to you.
[grunts]
[computer beeping]
I've got an engine out.
I've got shit for juice.
We've got structural
damage, half tanks.
This ship isn't going to
take another punch like that.
And now we got ballast
damage, front tanks.
Listen, we're going down.
I need to-- I need to blow
out the ballast right now.
No, Spencer, you can't do it.
Will, we've got no choice.
I've got to do it.
WILL ADLER: No.
[booming]
[bubbling]
You just blew
our oxygen reserve.
We were going down
to the ground, OK?
We have bigger problems.
We're leveled off
at 3,000 meters.
But unless we get those
ballast release valves fixed,
we are stuck.
With less than 40
hours of oxygen left.
Come on, people.
Talk to me.
Anyone got the fish on sonar?
VALENTIN TCHENKO (ON
RADIO): [inaudible] going.
Good, now, get your asses over
here and get me back inside.
Listen, man, we got a
little problem on our own.
You know the ballasts
are totally jammed.
We have limited
mobility right now.
That's just fucking great.
[sonar beeping]
Harrington, it's
right behind you.
Oh, shit.
Listen, man, the
meg is closing, man.
It's heading straight
for him right now.
He's not going to make it.
Yes, he is.
Listen, Will, I need
you to take over.
Pilot the ship.
Co-pilot, take over.
My god.
The co-pilot is down.
OK, then let's do it.
Let me pilot.
Let me pilot.
- Why?
It's the only way.
Trust me.
Come on.
Harrington, Harrington,
this is Spence.
Do you read me?
OK, I need you to listen to me
carefully right now, you hear?
What?
SPENCER NORTHCUT (ON
RADIO): [garbled]
On three, I need
you to drop on a 4.5.
I'm going to shoot
a harpoon at you.
- What?
- Just do it.
Try to switch to auto pilot.
Push the red button slowly.
Yes.
3--
Tchenko?
2--
What's happening down there?
Fire.
Ah.
Got you.
Harrington, are you all right?
Fuck you, Northcut.
I'm going to
bring you back in.
You are crazy, you know that?
Harrington, just hold on.
I got you.
I got you.
Will, Will, do you read me?
What's going on down there?
He's with us.
I got him.
I'm bringing him back in.
[sonar beeping]
Harrington, she's
still closing.
Come on.
Get me the hell out of here.
How fast can the
winch pull him in?
WILL ADLER: I don't know.
We'll find out.
300 meters and closing.
OK, you motherfucker.
Tchenko, I need you to
reload the tranquilizers now,
all of them.
Are you done?
Reset.
Shit.
Come on, you guys.
Come on.
Fire.
She's still coming.
Fire again.
Reload.
Reload again.
You son of a bitch.
Fucking come on already.
We're ready.
[music playing]
[groaning]
What's going on?
Talk to me.
- We're clear now.
Ah, fuck, ah, oh,
oh, oh, oh, shit.
Oh, uh.
That was close.
What did you say?
That was close.
Close?
That thing had its god damn
mouth of meat cleavers close.
Fuck close.
Where's Peters?
JUSTIN FRENCH: He's gone.
Shark came straight through
the pool and got him.
Oh, shit.
[groans]
- Fuck.
Come on.
Sit down.
Sit down.
- Ah.
Just sit down.
Just relax.
I think I owe you one.
Don't worry.
You would have done
the same for me.
Oh, don't be so sure.
Think we can put
it back together?
Oh, my god, are you OK?
I'm OK.
I'm OK.
Son of a bitch.
Spence?
I, uh, I'm really sorry.
You know, sometimes,
you don't believe
a thing until you see it.
And I believe it.
I've seen it.
I'm sorry.
It's all right.
I'm just glad you're all right.
Just have a seat.
Just relax.
Go take care of that shoulder.
Whew.
Cheryl, do we have
any Zarkon B on board?
No, why would
we have Zarkon B?
We're trying to capture
it, not kill it.
Think about it.
Do you think this thing is going
to let us sedate it while we
tow it back into the mainland?
Think about it.
This thing is fundamentally
the most significant scientific
discovery in marine biology.
It-- it needs to be
isolated and protected.
Protected?
Who was there to protect my
family and that technician
on a dry docks?
You want to ask his
family what they think,
if we should protect it?
So your solution
is to destroy it.
Yes, that's it.
OK, that's not very
scientific, Dr. Northcut.
This is not about
science anymore.
This is about survival.
[computer beeping]
She'll dive now,
but the ballast
tanks won't take you out again.
Fucking fish busted
up everything.
Helm's yours.
Stay back.
Stay back.
Shit.
We have to access the
control panel from outside.
You mean in the water?
Someone's going
to have to dive.
I'm not going out there.
Neither am I.
Shit.
Air scrappers are damaged,
no oxygen reserves--
we might have six hours
of breathable air left.
The ballasts are history
unless someone can go out
and replace the control valve.
Don't look at me, not
until that shark is gone.
I thought you knew what you
were getting yourself into.
I said we could handle it.
Who's delusional now, Will?
We've got to deal
with the fact here.
The tables have been turned.
We have to kill it.
I'm not making that call.
Well, I say make that call.
I'm not really
interested in being
remembered for the Harrington
Memorial Marine Institute.
I wouldn't worry about that.
Look here, baby cakes, I'm
about tired of your mouth.
You know--
All right, knock it off.
We need solutions.
All right, the way I see
it, we've got two choices.
One, we ready for
rescue and hope they
get to us before the meg does.
Rescue?
The ballasts are fucked.
We cannot surface.
No, no, no, the rescue bell--
clamp it onto the entry hatch.
A rescue bell, you going
to clamp the rescue bell
with that thing in the water?
I don't know.
Fine.
What's the other choice?
We have to kill it.
All right, but only if
there is no other choice.
There is no other.
No, I cannot believe
what I'm hearing.
We kill it.
No, this creature
could advance
marine anthropological science.
Have you not been
paying attention?
That shark has been beating
this sub like a naughty dog.
You got a better idea?
Pump it with phenobarbital,
wait it passes out, and then
continue with the capture.
Tchenko hit that thing
with over 10,000 milligrams.
- 12,000.
- 12,000.
So what the hell
is your plan now?
Look, we are scientists.
We have got to figure this out.
Cheryl, listen to
me for just a minute.
I know why you want to study
it, but that time is gone.
Now we're not in any
position or condition to toy
or-- or examine this meg.
We are out of our league.
Do you understand me?
No, you are doing exactly
what you've always wanted to do.
This is just about
fucking revenge.
I'm going to do what we should
have done in the first place.
Sorry, Cheryl.
[music playing]
Listen, Spence, I
don't think that Barton
wants us going after it
with blasting torpedoes.
Barton is not here, are they?
Maybe there is another way.
Like what?
Listen, we're out
of options here.
Come on.
One thing, these are
blasting torpedoes.
They've got a lot
of powder in them.
They weren't meant to be
detonated in the open water.
They were meant to be buried
deep in the ocean floor.
OK, we won't know the
range, and we won't
know the detonation power.
Harrington, let me
ask you something.
Can you modify them
to explode on impact?
With the condition this
sub is in, we can't detonate
these things within 500 meters.
But we've got to get a
directional beacon on the shark
before we can kill it.
OK, what about if you put the
beacon on the side of the mini
sub?
And the torpedo on the other?
That's fucking suicide, man.
OK, don't worry about that.
I will pilot the mini sub.
Just-- just get a
lock on the shark.
Then it's me and
Frenchy here, nobody else.
How much longer?
20 minutes.
You've got five.
All right.
How close is it?
1,000 meters off the stern.
[sonar beeping]
I'm going to try and get
a visual from the turret.
Done.
Six minutes, not bad.
Adler, she's operational.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO): Dr.
Northcut is on his way.
300 yards.
God damn it, she's circling.
JUSTIN FRENCH: You sure
you know what you're doing?
I mean, I just got
the thing fixed.
Yeah, I know how to
pilot one of these.
Good luck.
Thank you.
Keep your rudder
on an even keel.
French, talk to me.
Two control sticks,
one for each engine.
Ballast controls here, Navy
fuel regulators up here.
Check.
Hydrogen fuel cell, turn
that handle for a speed
burn then reset it.
Check.
JUSTIN FRENCH (ON RADIO):
This thing is no bike.
That's pure propellant.
You turn that one at
1,000 feet or less.
Turn the hydrogen to 35.
What happens if
I turn them both?
How fast you want to go?
SPENCER NORTHCU(ON RADIO): I want
to go faster than Harrington.
Dual cells, 3,500 feet, that's
an eight second vert, tops.
Then what?
Too much pressure,
and boom, it ruptures.
OK, got it, eight seconds.
JUSTIN FRENCH (ON
RADIO): I wouldn't chance
a burn for more than five.
You got it?
Eight seconds and this thing
blows like a hydrogen bomb.
OK.
Thanks, French.
Tubes are flooded.
Ready to launch.
Will, I'm spotting
in the turret--
no visual yet.
Spencer?
Yeah, I read you, Will.
Are you ready to submerge?
Yeah, I'm ready.
Be careful.
If I see a chance
to capture the meg,
I want your word that we
still have that option.
Standby to submerge.
Dr. Adler, do you hear me?
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
How is she driving?
Everything seems to
be responding just fine.
Seems to be a little
sluggish still.
But I'll take care of it, Will.
Don't worry about that.
Sluggish, my ass.
The guy doesn't know
how to drive it.
Relax, French.
You want to be driving?
God, it's beautiful.
Do you have it in sight?
Everybody hang on.
[groaning]
That's starboard side.
I'm going to try
to draw it away.
Ah.
Jesus Christ, want to give
us a little warning up there?
Spencer, do you read me?
Firing the first harpoon.
Fire.
You're too close
for torpedoes.
OK, I'm going to bring
it across your bough.
Copy that.
Come on.
OK, Will, beacon is on.
I got a lock on
the tracking beacon.
That son of a bitch.
He's burning his
cells up too fast.
Watch your fuel.
Come on.
He's over 600 meters out.
I think we should fire.
Hold on.
Hold on.
Come on, you son of a bitch.
Fire.
Creating the thrust.
[groaning]
Direct hit.
Under mount him.
Motherfucker.
Reload.
Crazy son of a
bitch, I like him.
Spencer, do you read me?
Spencer?
Will, I hear you.
I'm here.
You're back.
Whew.
Good man.
Will, Will, listen, I--
I got serious control damage.
But, uh, the internal
generators are-- are still
functioning at the moment.
So that's good.
Listen, I'm going to try
to come around again.
WILL ADLER (ON RADIO):
Spencer, get back.
This is an order.
Will, listen to me.
Maybe this is the
only chance we've got.
Let me cross in front of
you and pivot with me.
Harrington, do you read me?
ROB HARRINGTON (ON RADIO):
Ready with number two.
Uh-oh.
Listen, the back up
drive is failing.
The core battery
is completely shut.
Will, I'm losing you.
What's going on?
Argus, your radio
is cutting out.
Argus, can you read me?
CHERYL (ON RADIO): [garbled]
- Shit.
Say it again.
I'm losing you.
CHERYL (ON RADIO): [garbled]
Argus, it's-- it's
heading for you.
[music playing]
She's coming around again.
Harrington, French,
get ready to fire.
Ready to fire.
Oh, my god.
Harrington, [garbled]
- What did she say?
- Try the mic.
Cheryl, come in.
Harrington do not fire.
Harrington, do not fire.
Come in.
God damn it.
Harrington, Harrington,
can you hear me?
[garbled]
Seal the bulkheads.
Seal the bulkheads.
What the fuck are
you talking about?
Cheryl's down there.
What are you saying?
What the hell (GARBLING)
are you saying?
That's the most exposed
section of the ship.
If the torpedo detonates,
we will all die.
Harrington, do not fire.
Harrington, your
torpedo's blocked.
Do not [garbled].
Seal the bulkheads.
Seal the bulkheads.
Harrington!
Ah.
The torpedo is jammed.
Do not [garbled].
[groaning]
Oh, god.
It's in range.
Fire.
Ah.
[music playing]
RESCUE SUBMARINE
WORKER (ON RADIO):
Rescue vessel
Battalion to the Argus.
We're two hours away
from your position.
Copy.
I copy.
This is Dr. Spencer Northcut.
I'm calling you from
the Argus mini sub.
The Argus is down.
I repeat, the Argus is down.
RESCUE SUBMARINE WORKER (ON
RADIO): Please say again.
What's the extent of the damage?
How many survivors?
There are no survivors.
I'm the only one left.
RESCUE SUBMARINE WORKER (ON
RADIO): OK, hold your position.
Transmit your coordinates.
Copy that.
[music playing]
[alarm sounding]
MR. NORTHCUT (VOICEOVER):
And that would
be the giant man-eating squid.
Can't let it scare you, buddy.
[music playing]