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that long to book you.
You'll be lucky to get there in 45 days!
-Book me? Book me? Bullshit!
-Hey, sit down!
COP: Hey, Charlie. Charlie, you all right?
All right, call it in! I'm going after her.
Coming through! Get out of the way!
Look out!
LARRY: Slow down.
You're gonna hurt yourself.
-Get out of the way, Lisa!
DOUG: Marty called.
Maybe she got herself a boyfriend.
Terry, what's going on?
-Jack. B-Flat.
-See, what did I tell you? Jack.
Jack, do you receive? Jack?
JACK: Jack here. Just leaving.
Anything wrong?
Listen carefully. Can--?
Jack? What is this? Every time,
I get this Russian bitch on my terminal!
-Fucking machine!
-It's unbelievable. You're fired.
I'm conferring with members
of the British financial community.
-And they hear this language.
TALBOT: It's all right. We're used to it.
Well, I'm sorry, I....
It appears you did send
the Burghardt contact.
MR. PAGE: I couldn't find the Burghardt
information on any of these terminals.
TERRY: Bastard.
JACK: Terry, what's wrong?
-Tell him nothing's wrong.
-Who are these people? I want to know--
-Step out, Mr. Page.
-Tell him.
MR. PAGE: Get Larry, the guard.
-Take your hands off me.
Can't help you now, Mr. Page.
Terry, what's wrong?
On second thought, Mr. Talbot...
...send it your goddamn self.
-Oh, you shouldn't--
-Shut up!
Don't let her send! Hunter, stop her!
Don't let her send a message!
Keep her away from--
My hat! My hat!
Don't kill anyone!
-Oh, my God!
TALBOT: Don't shoot the machines!
JACK: Terry, must leave
in order to make contact.
Get off my foot!
TERRY: Burghardt is setup. Will kill you.
HUNTER: Oh, no, you don't!
-Kill her?
TALBOT: Feel free!
Why do I have to work here?
Cancel that message.
Cancel the message.
Cancel the message.
I'll cancel something even better.
I don't believe her.
-What's his code?
-Who are you?
CIA. What's his code?
What's his code?
-Give me his code, goddamn it!
-All right. It's B-Flat. God.
DOUG: Take a picture of me
next to the dead guy.
Still here, sweetheart.
MARTY: Glad to hear it, honey.
It's Peter Caen.
-You're Peter Caen?
-Yeah. I'll explain it all later.
-The one on the frying pan?
Have Talbot. Have exit contact.
Meet Matuchek, store on Balton Street.
Will get you home. Promise.
-Anything you want to say?
-Well, tell him not to forget our date.
All this is for a date?
Our specials tonight--
-Welcome back.
-Well, thank you. Excuse me.
Darling, I'm sorry.
WAITER: More bread sticks, madame?
-Oh, no. Could I have the check, please?
Hi, Marty. I'm sorry, Peter.
-It's all right.
-What are you doing here?
-You look very nice.
-Yeah? Thanks.
-What are you doing here?
-Jack isn't coming.
I'm sorry. He sent me a telex
from London.
Told me to come and explain it to you.
I know that he wanted to be here.
It's no big deal, you know.
After all, I was just some words
on a screen, right?
A screwdriver, a mechanic's tool
to be used by you guys.
-He asked me to take care of this.
-Please. No.
It's too much like him leaving my room
and leaving money on the dresser.
-Forty dollars. Great.
Well, I did my part for democracy.
I'll take you home, okay?
No. No. I'm okay.
She should be happy. Page is leaving,
and she's taking over his job.
If I'd known that'd get a promotion,
I'd have blown up the place.
Terry, I've got a great idea.
Let's have a little fun tonight after work.
-Yeah, quit moping. Come with us.
-Yeah, we could go to Cole's.
-No, thanks, you guys.
-Come on.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock. Please.
Leave me alone.
I'm sorry. Unavoidably delayed
in London. Queen thanks you.
Frankly, I don't give
a shit about the queen.
I did give a shit about you, however.
I sat in that restaurant
feeling stupid and hurt.
I mean, what happened to you?
All you had to do
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