Mission: Impossible II (2000) - full transcript

Chimera is a deadly virus that will bare a deathly death unless you are given the antidote. The creator of Chimera is murdered and the antidote is stolen by a disavowed IMF agent, Sean Ambrose. The Impossible Mission Force, IMF, hire the skilled and charming Ethan Hunt, and the beautiful Nyah Nirdoff-Hall, who has had her share with Ambrose. Their mission, should they choose to accept it is to send Hirdoff-Hall undercover to Ambrose and learn what she can for Hunt to bring down Chimera, but they will have to break into a secure lab by jumping off buildings and dodging bullets. Its impossible.


Well, Dmitri,
every search for a hero...

must begin with something
that every hero requires--

a villain.

Therefore, in the search
for our hero, Bellerophon,

we created a monster,

Chimera.

I beg you, Dmitri,
come to Sydney...

and accompany me
to Atlanta immediately.

However we travel,
I must arrive at my destination...

within 20 hours of departure.

Folks, we're
two-and-a-half hours from Atlanta.



Look out your window now. We have
a great view of the Rocky Mountains.

You keep staring at that watch as if
your life depended on it, Doctor.

Oh, yes.

I suppose I'm a bit anxious.

You'll soon be with old friends.

I'm with an old friend now, Dmitri.

I'm sorry it couldn't be
under happier circumstances.

I'm sorry too.
You are sorry, and I am sorry.

You don't know Gradski
thought the world of you.

Did he... know...

before the end
that you two had succeeded?

Yes, he knew. Just--

Not in time to save him.

No.



After you've been infected with Chimera
for 20 hours, nothing can save you.

Not even Bellerophon.

You can carry them
together... safely?

Yes.

And you'll get us to safe place
with them in Atlanta, thank God.

This is your captain again.
We've experienced a slight...

but abrupt drop in cabin pressure.

As a precaution,
I've released the oxygen masks.

Please put them on and sit back, relax.

There's nothing
to worry about.

Are you concerned?

Not so far.

Just put on your oxygen mask.
I'll see what's going on.

Okay.

Denver Center,
this is Trans-Pac 2207, 747 heavy.

We're unable to maintain
cabin pressurization.

We've initiated a descent
to one six thousand.

Captain--

It seems we have
a problem, Dmitri.

You keep calling me Dmitri.
You really shouldn't.

You are not Dmitri?

No.

Wallis, hold on to this.

Ulrich, remember to pull the--

Remember to pull
the NO2 tank and dump it.

All done, chief.

Terrain. Terrain.
Pull up. Pull up.

Terrain.

Okay, dive, dive!
Checkpoint Charlie in three,

two, one, go!

Terrain. Terrain.
Pull up. Pull up.

Terrain. Terrain.
Pull up. Pull up.

- Terrain. Terrain. Pull up. Pull up.

Good morning, Mr. Hunt.

Your mission,
should you choose to accept it,

involves the recovery of
a stolen item designated ''Chimera. ''

You may select any two team members,

but it is essential that the third
team member be Nyah Nordoff-Hall.

She is a civilian and
a highly capable professional thief.

You have 48 hours
to recruit Miss Nordoff-Hall...

and meet me in Seville
to receive your assignment.

As always, should you or any member
of your IMF team be caught or killed,

the secretary will disavow
all knowledge of your actions.

And, Mr. Hunt,
the next time you go on holiday,

please be good enough to let us know
where you're going.

This message
will self-destruct in five seconds.

If I let you know where I'm going...

then I won't be on holiday.

I see you found it.

What are you doing here?

Think you're the only one
who can pick a lock?

Huh. You're not just
a pretty face after all.

Do you mind if I'm on top?

No. Either way works for me.

- You'll never find it there.
- Damn it!

Find what?

His ex's Bulgari necklace
that goes up for auction on Tuesday.

And are you gonna tell me
where it is?

Far left.

This is very disconcerting.

Hey, you put me here.
I just do as I'm told.

Right.

Hmm!

Now, who are you,
and what's it gonna cost me?

- I wouldn't do that.
- What?

That.

No, no, no.
Tranquilo. Tranquilo.

Mr. Keys, it is you.

It is Mr. Keys,
our security engineer. Apologize!

No, no.
No need to apologize.

Now, Miss Hall, my associate has
your necklace in a very safe place.

But obviously we do feel the alarm
should have gone off a little sooner.

- Isn't that right, Miss Hall?
- Hmm? Oh, absolutely.

Much, much too long, I'd say.

Under the circumstances,
I think we'd recommend...

resetting the sensors
to respond to a lighter load.

How do you feel
about 40 kilos, Miss Hall?

Perfect.

Shall we?

- Miss Hall.
- Hmm?

Haven't you forgotten something?

What are you trying to do, señorita?
Rob me?

The thought had crossed my mind.

I'm missing something here, aside
from my half-million-pound necklace.

Even after I screwed up the job,

I could've walked out of there
with the bloody thing.

At least you walked.

Why did you watch me
go through it all?

I wanted to see how good you were.
I was hoping we might work together.

Sounds terrific.
Muchacho.

Now be serious.
Whatever you're talking about,

you couldn't possibly want me
after tonight's performance.

- You didn't do that badly.
- You apologizing for me?

Quite the gentleman.
Gracias.

Not really.
I triggered the alarm.

Sorry.

I don't do laundry, cook,
or put up with cheeky bastards

who set me up on their territory
so they can poach on mine.

Hola.

Hi.
Would you mind slowing down?

Where did you get this number?
I don't even have it.

Would you like it?

Pull over and listen to me,
will you? Just listen.

- Listen to what?
- I need your help.

- And I think you could use mine.
- Your help?

- What are you talking about?
- I'm talking about Scotland Yard,

Interpol, every Dutch authority.

- I can make them all go away.
- Oh, bloody hell.

You're a spy!
Well, if you want me,

you've gotta catch me!

Whoa!

You having fun?

Sorry.

Idiota.

Sorry.

Watch the road.
Watch the road.

What's your name?

Ethan Hunt.

Well, Ethan Hunt,

what is it you want
to talk to me about?

A lot more than I thought.

Awfully short notice.

Care to wait a decent interval?

Who wants to be decent?

So what have you got
against spies?

When they've got
your recruiting technique?

This wasn't exactly by the book.

They've got a book for this?

Oh, they've got
a book for everything.

So, this thing
these blokes pinched--

I don't know
that they pinched it.

I don't even know
that they're blokes.

What am I doing here?

And I thought I'm supposed to be...

some kind of thief
to catch a thief.

So do I... sort of.

Damn, you're beautiful.

Espresso? Cappuccino?

- No, thanks.
- Sit down. Sit down.

Festival's a pain in the ass.

Honoring their saints
by setting them on fire.

Lets you know what they think
of saints, doesn't it?

Damn near set me on fire
on my way over here.

Sorry I barged in
on your vacation.

I'm sorry I didn't
let you know where I was.

Don't be. It wouldn't
be a vacation if you did.

You're sorry, and I'm sorry.

Why did you phrase it like that?

- Like what?
- ''You're sorry; I'm sorry.''

You've gotta be kidding.

Well, Dmitri,
once again I need your help.

Just as in the old days, huh?

When you saved our lives,
saved our very sanity.

Dmitri...

we have this little problem.

Every search for a hero...

must begin with something
that every hero requires--

a villain.

Therefore, in the search
for our hero, Bellerophon,

we created a monster, Chimera.

I beg you, Dmitri,

come to Sydney and accompany me
to Atlanta immediately.

However we travel,
I must arrive at my destination...

within 20 hours of departure.

I fear I can entrust this
to no one but you.

Dmitri, as we say,
I'm sorry and you're sorry.

Do you have any idea
what the hell he's talking about?

- An idea? Yeah.
- Like?

Like it's a good idea
to pick him up in a hurry...

and a bad idea to fly him
on a commercial carrier.

-Is he still in Sydney?
-Dr. Vladimir Nekhovich is dead.

So is his colleague Gradski,
but that happened earlier.

We had Nekhovich on a flight from
Sydney that crashed in the Rockies.

- Dead?
- Are you listening to me?

If he didn't want
to go anywhere without me,

how did you get him
on that flight?

Oh, you were there.

When I couldn't find you,
I had to replace you.

Sean Ambrose was the obvious choice.

Now, he doubled you, what,
two or three times?

- Twice.
- What did you think of him?

We had our reservations
about each other.

Isn't it a little late
to be asking me that?

No, not necessarily.
Airline records...

list a Captain Harold Macintosh
as the pilot of flight 2207.

As far as the media and all
government agencies are concerned,

Captain Macintosh
died on the flight.

But, in fact, he missed it.

He did, however,
make the next flight...

in cargo.

Stuffed into a rather small
suitcase, considering his size.

Now, someone on that flight
planned an operation...

designed to bring the plane down
and make it look like an accident.

Someone skillful enough to bring
the whole thing off without a hitch.

So there's one thing we know
that Ambrose doesn't.

You do think it was Ambrose?
You're not surprised?

Sean feels he hasn't done the job unless
he leaves a lot of hats on the ground.

The question is why? What was this,
uh, Chimera, Nekhovich was carrying?

Only Ambrose knows that.

In any case, you must recover this--
whatever-- Chimera, and bring it to us.

In order to do that, I have to figure
out how he plans to make money with it.

That is where Miss Hall comes in.

Excuse me?

Miss Hall and Ambrose
had a relationship...

which he took very seriously.

She walked away, and he's been
wanting her back ever since.

We believe she's our surest
and quickest way of locating him.

And then what?

Well, make sure
she continues to see him,

gets him to confide in her,
and report to you.

You made it sound as if I was recruiting
her for her skills as a thief.

Well, then I misled you,
or you made the wrong assumption.

Either way, we're asking her
to resume a prior relationship,

not do anything
she hasn't already done.

Voluntarily, I might add.

No, she's got no training
for this kind of thing.

What, to go to bed with a man
and lie to him? She's a woman.

She's got all
the training she needs.

I don't think
I can get her to do it.

- You mean it'll be difficult.
- Very.

Well, this is not Mission Difficult,
Mr. Hunt, it's Mission Impossible.

Difficult should be
a walk in the park for you.

I'm open to suggestion.

If you can think of a quicker way,
you're welcome to try.

You might take a look at these...

if you have any further qualms
about getting her to do the job.

How many people are capable
of something like that?

Sean Ambrose, for one.

Right.

This wasn't what
I had in mind, Nyah.

But it is what you'd
like me to do.

What? Oh, let my conscience
be my guide, is that it?

Something like that.

I don't have a conscience.
I'm a bloody thief.

Are you gonna try
and force me to do this?

Generally, I don't favor
coercing someone,

not when there's a chance
my life could end up in their hands.

- Is that the only reason?
- Can you think of a better one?

Me? No.
But I was just hoping that you might,

thinking that somewhere, this got
personal as well as physical!

Would it make you feel any better
if I didn't want you to do this?

- Yeah, much.
- Then feel better!

You know, Sean will never
be anything but suspicious...

if I pitch up saying,
''Hey, honey, I'm home. ''

What wouldn't
make him suspicious?

That I needed him
in some urgent way.

Destitute.
In serious trouble.

The kind I couldn't possibly
sort out myself.

Serious trouble, Nyah, is something
that I can always arrange.

This transponder chip
is completely untraceable.

It transmits your location
to a satellite...

which can be read
by only this computer.

We can then track you
to within three feet.

Anywhere.

Since your arrest, I've
been sending news bulletins...

to every law enforcement agency.

I know Sean Ambrose,

and I guarantee
that after that airline crash,

he's monitoring
everyone of them.

He knows you're there.

And he has the means
to get you out.

Nyah...

Nyah...

I'm not gonna lose you.

Ethan Hunt? G'day, mate.
I'm William Baird. Billy's okay.

Anything you need me to get,
move or watch, just let me know.

I'll have a look around.

- Shit.
- Yes, it is.

This ain't funny.

I just bought
these $800 Gucci shoes,

and you got me in a helicopter
with this man?

Computer's up. We got her.

Let's put in the coordinates
and get a visual.

Visuals aren't coming up.

The satellite doesn't work
as fast as I do.

Yeah, I heard about you, Luther.
Just wanna say it's an honor...

and a pleasure
to be working with you blokes.

Come on. Isn't there any way
we can speed this up?

With what? This is
the only computer that'll do this.

Ohhh!

Ethan, here we go.

Aye.

Now, there's a bloke who knows
how to give a proper welcome.

Don't get me wrong, mate.
You were very friendly also.

- Is it him?
- It's him, Billy.

- So we've got him!
- We don't know what we've got.

'Cause we don't know what he's got,

where he's got it or
what he's doing in Sydney with it.

- Not much luggage.
- I left in a bit of a hurry.

I'm incredibly grateful, Sean.

How in the world did you find me?

How I usually find you, Nyah.

Magic.

Mmm, mmm!
No flies on her.

No bugs, either.
No transmissions.

She's clean.

All cats are.

- Your room?
- Mmm.

- And my room?
- Hmm.

She did it.
She's in the compound.

Yeah? We just rolled up
a snowball and tossed it into hell.

Now we'll see
what chance it has.

Try it on.

Go ahead.

I'm dying to see
if I remembered your size.

You're not interested
in seeing how it looks?

Oh, I am.

Later.

Every search for a hero...

must begin with something
that every hero requires--

a villain.

Therefore, in the search
for our hero, Bellerophon,

we created a monster, Chimera.

Nekhovich was
a molecular biologist.

Why is he going on
about an old Greek myth?

Nekhovich specialized
in recombining DNA molecules.

In the myth,

Bellerophon was a prince
who killed the Chimera.

A monster with the head of a lion...

and the tail of a serpent...

who plagued the ancient world.

I think Nekhovich created
a monster virus named Chimera...

and the antivirus to kill it,

named Bellerophon.

That simple, huh?

Why not?

£37 million.

Now, that's a promising bid
for Nekhovich's work.

Don't look so worried, Hugh.
We're halfway there.

We'll need this at the track...

if we're gonna get the other half.

Well, then... sorted.

Not everything.

Why do you think
she's really here?

From her point of view or mine?

Well, she wasn't
exactly gagging for it...

when she left you six months ago.

The question is,
do you trust her?

One considers her timing, of course.

Getting nicked within a week
of the plane going down.

Suggestive,
even borderline suspicious,

but hardly conclusive.

Well, you've thought about it,
at any rate.

Tell me, Hugh,

you don't exactly hang on Nyah's
every word and gesture, do you?

That's a fairly ratty nail that.

Sean, please!

Suppose she is some sort of Trojan
horse sent in by IMF to spy on us.

Why should I deny myself
the pleasure of a ride or two?

Or don't you think I can learn
more from her than she can from me?

I do! I do! I do! I do!

Now, Hugh,

you must realize
that some of us...

have the burden
of sex to deal with.

And I may or may not know
why she thinks she's here,

but I'm willing to take
the risk, because, Hugh,

I am gagging for it.

Come on!

Darling! You won!

- I suppose I did.
- What made you pick that nag?

He's never won a bloody thing.

- ''Thief in the Night.''
- Say no more.

I'm, uh--

I'm off to grab a drink.
Do you still favor the Bellinis?

Mmm.

''Naturally Vain.''

Pardon me?

Naturally Vain... in the fourth.

Check her out. She's due.

You can speak
as if I'm right by your side.

Where are you?

Mounting enclosure
just off the track, 2:00.

How's it going?

Just like old times.

Just like old times?

Just about.

Tell me who you've run into
at Ambrose's.

Near as I can tell, there's about a half
dozen other blokes about the place.

Maybe more.
Hugh Stamp, old friend of Sean's.

He's the only one I recognize.
And a bit of a creep and then some.

We know him. He's over your left
shoulder, looking at you right now.

Ambrose has photos of newspapers
with money piled on them.

Thirty seven million
on the London Times.

What's that about?

Bids from possible Chimera buyers.

Ambrose is meeting
some bloke in the bar.

Big bloke. Ginger hair.
They're into something.

- Who is this guy?
- Checking now, Ethan.

John McCloy,
CEO Biocyte Pharmaceuticals.

In 1989, acquired Biocyte
in a hostile takeover.

He was Nekhovich's boss.

Right. He worked for him
as a research scientist at Biocyte.

Ambrose is showing something
to McCloy on a digital camera.

Whatever McCloy's
looking at, he's not happy about it.

Ambrose just pulled...

the camera's memory card
and put it into an envelope.

Put it in his inner left
jacket pocket.

Confirm left jacket pocket.

Roger that.

Nyah. Nyah, Ambrose
is on his way back to you.

- There's an envelope inside--
- His left jacket pocket.

That's right.

- Where do I meet you?
- Betting table 12, off the paddock.

- Are you sure you're up to this?
- I'll muddle through.

- There you are!
- See anything you like?

Well, yeah.
''Naturally Vain.''

But they're about to close
the betting, and I haven't a bean.

- Nyah!
- Would you mind terribly?

Not at all.
But, um, you are gonna pay for it.

- And with interest.
- I have no doubt.

Hold on.

Put down a thousand for me.

- To win?
- What else?

-Billy, make sure Nyah's not followed.
-No worries, mate.

-Billy, make sure Nyah's not followed.
-No worries, mate.

Luther, digital camera
ready to transmit.

Betting table 12.

- There you go.
- Fine.

Oh, sorry about that, mate.

Say again?

Whatever you're about,
in future, watch your step.

Never know who you might run into.

So where's the loo?

Thanks, mate.

How'd you do?

Don't turn around.

I managed.

You turned around.

What are you gonna do?
Spank me?

I'm booted up.
Go, Ethan.

Are you getting this?

''Sergei Gradski.:

20 hours after exposure. ''

God.

Stamp 's out of the loo.

He's coming out of the tunnel,
heading your way, mate.

- I want you out of Ambrose's place.
- What are you talking about?

What's happened?
What did you see?

Okay, he's coming up
behind you, Ethan.

You've done your job.
I want you out of Australia.

- Thirty steps.
- How do you suggest I go about it?

He's touched your heart.
You need to think it over.

Fifteen, fourteen, twelve, eleven.

I want you out of there now.
Give me the earpiece.

- Nine, Ethan. Eight.
- If you don't get out of there,

I'm coming in and getting you out.

Ethan, get out of there!

You placed your bet, ma'am?

Just.

Horses are ready to race.

They're off!

Come on! Come on! Your nag's
making a run for it on the outside!

Come on! Come on!

You picked another winner!

I thought you
were going to dinner.

Hugh, take care of
the Nekhovich memory card.

Where is it?

In the envelope
in my jacket pocket.

My right jacket pocket.

We at our state-of-the-art
solar-powered Biocyte building,

recognize that eternal vigilance
is the price of health,

whether it's funding the teaching center
at the Royal Prince Edward Hospital,

removing aerosol products
from the market...

or braving the influenza quarantine
at Bruny Island late last month.

At Biocyte, your life
is our life's work.

We've got an opportunity here.

I'm not going to miss it.

George, take me home.

George?

George!

What the hell?

George!

George! George!

Sean?

Sean?

Shhh.

Easy.

Oh, Ethan.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I am now.

- What is this?
- A visit from an old friend.

You crashed
on the plane. You're dead.

Dead, certainly.
But dead is a little extreme.

On the other hand, when my colleague
Gradski had your pulse...

and your blood pressure,
he had less than a day to live.

You are infected with Chimera,
my friend.

No use, my friend.

The medical staff
wants no part of this.

Doctors don't fancy the idea
of dying any more than anybody else.

How could I possibly be infected?

That's exactly what Gradski said
27 hours before he died.

You've got the antidote,
you miserable bastard!

- You stole Bellerophon! All of it!
- My, my, my.

I need it! I need it now,
you whacked-out Russian Gypsy!

And what about Gradski, who you
deliberately infected with Chimera?

How was I to know they needed...

to be treated with Bellerophon
within 20 hours?

- By asking me.
- You still don't get it, do you?

I needed to know just how bad
the disease was in the real world,

not just the lab.

You were genetically splicing
together strains of influenza...

to create a cure for all influenzas.

But you were also creating
a disease so terrible in Chimera,

the cure would be priceless.

I needed Chimera in order
to peddle Bellerophon.

It's not that difficult
to understand, is it?

Look, I've got the virus.
You've got the cure.

I need them both.

Time was a shot of penicillin
would knock off...

every bloody bug in the zoo.
Not anymore.

If I couldn't make money killing
the microscopic little shits out there,

well, you'd help me put one out
there that I could make money on.

Well, there it is.
I've confessed.

I, John C. McCloy,

am in business to make money.

Now, forget any deal you may have
made with that thug Ambrose.

Get me treated,
and let's go back to work.

You know,

I think it's a little late for that.

Do give my regards to Gradski...

if you see him.

Well...

I've heard...

all I need to hear.

Nyah...

it's imperative that we do nothing
to alarm Ambrose.

What?

You told me to get out of there
as soon as possible.

-I thought you were here to collect me!
-Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!

Listen to me.
There's no time to talk.

It is critical,
absolutely critical,

that you do whatever Ambrose asks.

Do you understand me?

Don't worry.

It will all be over...
very soon.

That's a promise.

Go on.

Go on. Off you go.

Luther, we know this much.
Nekhovich gets on a plane...

to go to the Center for
Disease Control in Atlanta.

He's carrying a virus
he created, Chimera,

and the cure for that virus,
Bellerophon.

Ambrose doesn't have the virus.

That's why Ambrose needs McCloy.

So we go into Biocyte, kill Chimera,

Ambrose has a cure
without a disease,

and we're home free.

You were right.
Hunt stung McCloy tonight.

So he knows.

He'll be going into Biocyte.

Good. Then we'll know
where he'll be, don't we?

Well done, Hugh.

Well done.

Oi! You're home, mate. Home.

Where's George?

My regular driver?
Where is he?

He's gone home sick.
Touch of the flu.

-Is the building up and running yet?
-Mmm.

-That's not exactly it.
-Sorry, but this is a Biocyte facility.

Their storage structure.
I'll have it up in a minute.

- Okay, take a look at this.
- Start from the inside out.

All storage and production
of Chimera is done here,

in this lab on the 42ndfloor.

Hunt's target will be the Chimera,

stored and manufactured
at Biocyte on the 42nd floor.

If you look at Hunt's
operational history, and I have,

he invariably favors
misdirection over confrontation.

He'll never break into Biocyte from
the bottom where security is heaviest.

No garage entrances.

Lobby's protected by five guards
on rotating patrol.

Not goin' in from the ground.
Show me the atrium.

The atrium?
One of a kind.

Runs down through the center
of the building.

Provides 24-hournaturallight via
mirrors and daylight storage cells.

Optimal growing conditions
for the virus.

Ends in a glass floor which doubles
as part of the lab ceiling.

Uh-uh. The atrium roof
closes at sundown.

And if the louvers are up for
more than 40seconds at night,

the civil emergency alarms
are tripped.

Those, even I can't stop.

Ethan, we have
a total of 40 seconds...

to get you in
and the cables out.

No, Hunt will prefer to enter
Biocyte somewhere from the top...

where security is minimal.

He'll undoubtedly engage
in some aerobatic insanity...

before he'll risk harming a hair
on a security guard's head.

- Check-check. Got copy?
- You're five-by-five.

Luther, how we doin '?

Not there yet,
Ethan. I'll give you the word.

Billy, ready to go?

Okay, package away in five--

I'm not ready.
The louvers aren't moving.

Come on, Luther! We gotta go!

Wait, there's
a glitch in the access code.

Luther,
we're out of time. On the count.

Please, baby, open up, open up.

- Five, four,
- Come on!

three, two, one!

- I'm going now!
- Ethan, wait!

Twenty five,
twenty four, twenty three,

twenty two, twenty one, twenty.

Ethan, you've got 19seconds
to clear the cable.

Okay, retracting cable!

Come on!

Nine, eight, seven, six,

five, four, three, two--

Cable's clear!

Transponder activated.
Reading package and cable clear.

He'll breach the lab
at the only possible time,

whether you break in
from the ground or the roof.

It's 2300 hours, one minute...

when the air filtration generators will
cover the sound of Hunt's break-in...

and the rotating guards
make the building vulnerable...

to our break-in from below.

Ethan,
the generator's about to go active.

Just a friendly reminder. We'll be
out of contact for eight minutes.

I'm betting
Hunt will destroy Chimera...

rather than attempt
to preserve any part of it.

He'll have to do it
in two places.

First, the incubation room
where the growth vials are kept.

And finally,
in the inoculation chamber...

holding the last remaining Chimera
virus in three injection guns.

He won't be allowed to destroy
the virus in those guns.

What's this?
You're on time, for once?

Not exactly, sport.

John C. McCloy.

Billy, I think we've got a problem.

Nyah's on the wing up early.
Billy, do you copy?

Yeah, I got you, Luther.
Sorry, exactly where is she?

- In the building.
- Say again, mate.

Sounds like you're saying
she's in the building.

I am. She is.

Uh, well, then she's not likely
to be alone, is she, mate?

She's in the elevator,
headed towards Ethan.

The question is.:
How many of them?

I can't get through to Ethan,
not till the generators go.

- Yeah, well, when's that?
- Not for another...

five-and-a-half minutes.

Chimera
in vitro pH and temperature level...

outside optimal range.

Chimera in vitro pH
and temperature level...

outside optimal range.

Chimera working seed stock pH
at critical level.

Alert.
Chimera stock life threatened.

Alert.
Chimera stock life terminated.

Come on, Ethan.
Come on.

Subject is contaminant-free.

Zero contaminant factor.

Come on, come on,
come on, come on.

Luther, what the hell can we do?

What can we do?

Hope he kills all the bugs before
the yellow dot gets to the red one.

However we travel,

I must arrive at my destination
within 20 hours of departure.

How was I to know
that he needed to be treated...

with Bellerophon within 20hours?

Get him.

How much longer
before you can reach him?

We've got29seconds
before the generators turn off,

then Ethan will be back on-line.

Ahh!

Luther! Luther!

Hold your fire!

Hold your fire, damn it!

Well, Hunt...

how've you been?

Fighting a bit of a cold.

Aww.

You know, that was the hardest part
of having to portray you--

grinning like an idiot
every 15 minutes.

I would've thought the hardest part was
curbing that pressing need of yours...

to get your gun off.

You were in such a hurry
to knock off that 747...

you never figured out
where Chimera really was.

- I knew where it was.
- Oh.

Then you knew the only way Nekhovich
could smuggle the live virus...

is by injecting himself and using
his own bloodstream as a petri dish.

You knew that...
while you were knocking him off,

destroying the very thing
you came for.

Stop!
Put a sock in it!

Hit that bloody gun, and you'll
spray the virus all over the place!

There it is, guys.

The last of it.

What was the top bid?

Why? You gonna make me
a better offer?

Than £37 million?
Not really.

Oh!

Somebody has been slipping you
our mail.

Come on out here, you bad girl.

Sean, she doesn't belong here.
Let her go.

She wouldn't be here...

if it wasn't for you, Hunt.

From this moment, you are
responsible for what happens to her.

And if you're looking out
for her well-being,

I suggest you advise her to pick up
the injection gun and bring it to me.

Ball's in your court, Hunt.

Nyah's in the building.
Do you copy?

Thank you.

How do you know he won't shoot you
the minute he's got it?

Please. One can't hold Nyah
responsible for her actions.

You know women, mate.
Like monkeys they are.

Won't let go of one branch
till they get a grip on the next!

Get it, Nyah.
I'll cover you.

I am waiting.

Things haven't exactly worked out the
way you thought they would, Ethan.

Sorry.

You bitch!

You're not gonna shoot me, Sean.
Not this bitch.

'Cause she's worth £37 million.

- What did you think you were doing?
- I wasn't thinking!

Just trying to stop you
from getting hurt, that's all!

You who don't have a conscience.

I guess I lied.

You can't get us both
out of here, can you?

I'm infected with Chimera.

You know you don't have a choice.
Just do it.

Do it now!

We've got 19 hours and 58 minutes!

I'll get Bellerophon
into your system before then!

Just stay alive!
I'm not going to lose you!

Feel like pleading for your life?

Well, then, how about dying...

so you can make me a lot of money?

In just a few hours time,
you can be assured...

of going down in history
as the Typhoid Mary of Oz.

G'day.

There's not a chance of locating Nyah
until can access the satellite.

And there's not a chance of doing that
until I can get this computer fixed.

How much time does she have left?

Not long. But whatever happens,
Nyah will take care of Nyah.

-What do you mean?
-Unless we dose her with Bellerophon,

Nyah will kill herself.

So first things first.

Ethan, Ambrose and his team
have arrived...

over the bridge,
and Nyah's not with him, mate.

Copy that.

You all right, mate? Looks like
pretty heavy security from here.

What's it look like from there?

Risky.

Simon? Simon!

Stay here.

Breached the structure
at the 10:00 grating.

It's a DNA match.
The blood's loaded with Chimera.

And they certainly have Bellerophon.

Well, then you've got
both the virus and the antivirus,

which means I've got
30 million for you.

Not exactly.
We don't want just your cash.

- What do you want?
- Stock, Mr. McCloy.

Stock options,
to be a little more precise.

Cut her loose...
right in the center of town.

The more crowded the better.

Ethan, just picked up an Ambrose
call. Nyah's been dropped off.

- Where is she?
- Somewhere in Sydney.

Somewhere in Sydney?
Care to harden the target?

I can't until...

I can get the GPS up
on our computer. It's down.

The clock is ticking.

How quickly can you manufacture
more of the antivirus?

No time at all,
once I've got it.

Good. Biocyte stock is just a few weeks
away from going through the roof.

- What are you talking about?
- An outbreak of Chimera.

- Where?
- Downtown Sydney, for a start.

You create the supply, Mr. McCloy.

We've just created the demand.

Three million people in Sydney...

and 17 million people
in Australia...

are going to need Bellerophon
within the next few days,

not to mention
the rest of the world.

Now, this is how
it's going to work.

- Wallis, the shares outstanding are?
-93.4 million.

Which means, Mr. McCloy, we need to
get our hands on 480,000 options.

We'll borrow your 30 million
to buy those options.

Your stock has never sold
above $3 1 a share.

When your stock goes north of 200,

which it will, those options
will be worth billions,

and I will own 51% of Biocyte.

This is outrageous.

I will not let you
take control of my company.

Sit down.

You'll be a billionaire.
It's better than being broke.

I have terrorists and...

other pharmaceutical
companies standing in line.

The ball's in your court,
Mr. McCloy.

Run that bastard down.

We're running short
on time, Mr. McCloy.

We have got to conclude
our business.

Yes. Start the transfer.

Follow it...
and let me know.

Uh!

Raise your hands very slowly.

Sure you want me to do this?

Raise your hands very slowly.

Ethan, Ethan, do you copy?
Do you copy?

Keep it going!

Sean, this
rat's reached the end of the maze.

Is he alive?

Yeah, more or less.

Bring him to me.

Go!

Sean, transfer completed.

Well done, Stamp.
Well done.

Stop mumbling!

I'm afraid he's got no choice.

I believe I broke his jaw.

Stamp, I'm impressed.

Right. We don't have
a lot of time, Hunt.

What ever you got to say,
say it now.

How about giving us a big smile?

- No?
- What are you doing?

Get down on your knees.

Now, this is what's known...

as getting your gun off.

There he is!

Ethan!

Just back off
and pinpoint your positions!

Luther, clear the bridge for me!

Hunt's heading for the bridge,
coming in at 12:00 high.

Oh, I'm mad now.

Ha-ha!

-You all right, mate?
-That punk put a hole in my Versace!

Ethan, the computer's up.
I've got Nyah.

She's moved out of the city.

She's on the north head bluff
approaching the cliffs.

- But I can't get a visual.
- Copy!

She's only got
a little time left!

Track ahead and pick her up!

-I can't get a good shot.
-Ethan, we won't be able to cover you!

My earpiece is failing!
You've got me on GPS!

Bring her to me!

Billy, north head bluff.
Haul ass.

- Get out there and keep firing!
- I can't see anything!

Slow down, mate!
Slow down!

Range is 2K.

Ahhh!

Go ahead.
Use it, Hunt.

It's not a bad way to go.

It's a lot better than
the way that bitch is gonna die.

Hey, there she is!

Hunt!

You should've killed me.

Miss Hall's blood, it appears,

has absolutely no elements
of the Chimera virus,

not even antibodies.

Yes. I gathered as much.

But you were under specific
instructions, Mr. Hunt,

to bring back a living sample
of the Chimera virus.

I'd be very interested to know how,
after you managed this recovery,

it subsequently got destroyed.

By fire.
It's the best way, really.

Oh. Well, Mr. Hunt,

as for Miss Hall,
in light of her efforts,

her criminal record
will certainly be expunged.

Wiped out.
I'm assuming you approve.

I do.

Yeah. Where is she now, by the way?
Any idea?

I don't know.
Not exactly.

So, what are your plans?

I don't know.
Uh, some sort of vacation.

I'll let you know where I'm going.

You don't have to do that.

It wouldn't be a vacation
if you did.

Let's get lost.

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