Fathom

Fly away with me, sky-girl

We'll go racing

chasing the sun

Swallows on the wing around us

And the sunlight shining

On our rainbow run

Ever tried to chase moonbeams

While the stars shine

Twinkling and bright

No, you'll never find a joy

for girl and boy

Like floating in the air

There's just nothing to compare

With the joy

that we'll be sharing

Tonight

And now, jumping

in the individual accuracy competition,

Miss Fathom Harvill

of the United States team.

Senorita, a smile

would make it perfect.

They never make a fuss

over me when I land.

Maybe you ought to let

your hair grow longer.

Senorita, how did you

ever get a name like Fathom?

A fathom is six feet. Papa was hoping

for a tail son. Papa was disappointed.

- Think the U.S. team will beat the French

next week? - That's the idea, isn't it?

Miss Harvill? Miss Harvill?

I'm supposed to drive you back to town.

- Thank you. - How come the rest

of us have to take the bus?

I keep telling you, you ought

to let your hair grow longer.

I'll be with you

as soon as I change.

The one thing I'll never understand

about you skydivers-

how do you get the nerve

to take the first jump?

It's easy. You learn parachute

packing, study up on meteorology,

wind currents, aerodynamics,

and then, when the big day comes,

you get someone

to give you a big push.

Say, didn't we pass

the road to Malaga?

Yes, we're taking a slight detour.

Nothing to worry about.

Colonel Campbell wants to see you.

- Colonel Campbell?

- He'll explain everything.

But I don't know

any Colonel Campbell.

You will.

Good day to you, Miss Harvill.

A very good day.

I've been looking forward

to our meeting.

Oh, uh, come inside, won't you?

In you go, love.

Do sit down.

Oh, uh, excuse me.

I'm not a very good housekeeper.

Now, I'm going to be very calm

about this whole thing.

If you take me back to my hotel room in the

next ten minutes, I'll forget all about it.

If you don't, I'm gonna holler

bloody murder to the American embassy.

A very normal reaction,

Miss Harvill.

I'll tell you what. If my credentials

don't entirely satisfy you,

I'll holler with you.

- HADES? - Headquarters Allied

Defenses Espionage and Security.

Impressive signatures.

Or I've been kidnapped

by a mad autograph collector.

Very good, but not mad.

Colonel Douglas Campbell,

late of the Scots Guards,

presently in charge of this very

powerful and very secret organization.

Do sit down.

Get that, Timmy.

Let me introduce you.

Flight Lieutenant Timothy Webb,

Royal Air Force, on leave of absence.

Leave of senses is more like it, volunteering

for a potty outfit like this one.

I apologize, Miss Harvill, for having

brought you here in this unorthodox way,

but you'll see it's a matter

of the utmost urgency.

I don't believe a word of this.

I assure you it's very

desperately real. Please.

It's Washington, sir.

N.S.A. frequency, code 12.

I'll put it through the scrambler.

Oh, I'm squeaking again.

The sea air disagrees with the lubricant

in my titanium knee joint.

- HADES One to N.S.A. liaison. Over.

No negative information, eh?

Thank you kindly. HADES One out.

No worries there. That message

was about you, Miss Harvill.

You've been cleared by Washington

at the very highest level.

- Cleared? For what?

- Whitehall code check A-okay.

Good. Excuse me.

- Take a message, will you?

- Sir.

To U.S. Navy, Force F.D.,

via liaison Gibraltar.

Tell them HADES won't be needing

any assistance at the moment.

Assuming that Miss Fathom Harvill,

"dental assistant,

La Jolla, California,"

on a three-week tour

with a U.S.jumping team...

is half what I think she is.

Well, half of her is fascinated,

but the other half

tells me to get out of here.

The first half is the one I like...

the brave and bonnie one who's gonna

help us find the Fire Dragon.

Fire Dragon 7

The name of this game, lassie.

And Lord have mercy on this

poor sad world if we should fail.

Amen.

Some time ago,

there was a calamity in the air.

One of our hydrogen bombs

was lost in the Mediterranean Sea.

- A fantastic search was made.

- I remember.

- It was found, finally.

- Aye, the bomb was found. That's history.

The bomb they found,

but not the Fire Dragon.

Code name for the contents

of this wee box-Fire Dragon.

Well named.

It's a fail safe device...

which triggers the hydrogen bomb

by electronic signal.

Need I say what it would mean if this

Fire Dragon fell into hostile hands?

For a year or more, not a trace,

though we scoured the earth

and veritably sieved the sea.

Not a trace. Then, a week

past Tuesday, newsreel pictures.

A corrida. Malaga.

Routine.

With the Fire Dragon file still open,

we look over everything

from the South of Spain...

Watch now.

One Peter Merriwether.

Next to him, his great

good friend, Miss Jo-May Soon.

They're from Hong Kong.

- Popped up on the scene just the day before

these were taken. - Devoted aficionados.

Really Red Chinese agents.

Pure and simple, lassie,

with this wee box in their hands,

they'd have the power to turn the world

into a black broiled mushroom.

Merriwether's current headquarters...

this villa above the sea

near Malaga.

They are passing

as perfectly innocent tourists.

Valid passports,

papers quite in order.

The place is walled

and guarded, impregnable from land.

They didn't

exactly appreciate our flyover.

You?! see what I mean.

- Major Jo-May Soon.

- "Major"?

That was the rank she held

in the Mongolian K.G.B.

Tasty fortune cookie, that one.

Enter the boss, Peter Merriwether.

Closely attended

by underlings, the Trivers family.

Mr. Tis the boss's

second in command.

Whoops.

Not having bullet-proof trousers on...

exit hastily, yours truly.

Only one reason for them being

in this area... the Fire Dragon.

The infernal thing's known to be

their number one objective.

- You think they have it?

- Not yet,

or they'd be halfway

across the world by now.

But they're on its trail.

We're quite certain the Fire Dragon's

been found by some person unknown.

And Merriwether fully intends

to get it from him.

- Problem:
Who's that person?

- Milk?

- Phase.

- The problem we tried to solve...

by dropping a wee radio

transmitting bug from that helicopter.

Unfortunately,

the device malfunctioned,

and that, lassie,

is where you come in.

- Don't tell me. I can see it perfectly.

- Do you 7

I was sitting there thinking

while you were showing me those movies.

"Why me?" I said to myself.

"Why Fathom Harvill?

"Couldn't be 'cause

she's fun at a party.

"Couldn't be 'cause someone

needs their teeth cleaned.

"Has to be some special knack.

Has to be her skydiving."

- Right? - Obviously. Plus

the fact that you're a girl.

And a very pretty one too,

if I may say so.

Gets nicer and nicer. I skydive into

a pad full of mad Mongolian butchers...

and seduce the boss

into telling all.

- My dear lassie, you don't have to do

a thing. - Just land there, that's all.

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