Patriot Games Page #3

- No more questions.

- She's going to be okay.

- Thank you.

Its all right. She's fine.

Mr. Ryan?

Id like to share with you

our deep regret...

Mr. Ryan...

You know the deal. You are involved.

Its not good process.

The victim of a crime

does not make the best analysis, -

- even if

you knew something about terrorism.

I have guys on it

who know about the IRA.

Im not standing here with my hat

in my hand. I want back in.

Jack...

Thank God about Sally.

Alice and I are so relieved.

- Have you managed any sleep?

- Not much, sir.

Im interrupting something.

You were telling Jack that we'd

be better off without him around.

Or something along those lines.

Marc Spiva. Jack Ryan.

Tony Ferro. Alex Winter.

- Rose...

- You look better than I expected.

- Its an illusion.

- It'd have to be. Good to see you.

We've carved a niche for you.

Here's your night-table reading.

Father killed by RUC...

Belfast, 1979.

Good morning, sir.

Could I see some identification?

- Did you see the game?

- Yeah, it was all right.

For that penalty,

he was outside the area.

- What the hell...?

- Nobody move!

Get 'em up!

Good morning.

Kevin O'Donnell.

A long-time IRA strategist.

He saw Timothy Miller die in 1979.

He looked after Sean and Patrick.

Its a recent photo.

If we could find O'Donnell,

we'd find Miller, too.

- Are you with me, Jack?

- Im just thinking.

- What about the gun?

- It wasn't registered.

- Son of a b*tch.

- What?

Look...

SO-13 gets an anonymous tip

about some bomb-making setup.

They get the bad guys,

but who tipped them off?

Three IRA hitmen

found dead at a farmhouse.

That's British soldiers

getting out of hand.

No, look ... Brigade Commander

Jimmy O'Reardon.

Ends up dead in a cheap hotel.

A professional hit.

- Was that after the farmhouse?

- Same day.

- Same day.

- What are you coming to?

Jack! Where are you going?

Im going to throw

some water on my face.

Excuse me...

I think one of us

is in the wrong room.

Its okay.

- Jack!

- Get down.

When the IRA carry out a campaign,

they admit to it.

Get down!

Who are we looking for here,

IRA terrorists?

Or some ultra-violent faction

of the IRA, fighting their own way.

O'Reardon checked into a hotel

with a woman with long hair.

Long red hair.

This is who we're looking for.

We find her, we'll find him.

I saw his wife and daughter die,

but she and Neddie blew it.

Ryan's still alive.

- They're not dead.

- What?

They survived it.

I can't say it any plainer.

- It doesn't matter now.

- It does matter.

Americans hold their breath

every time a little girl falls down.

You shot at one with a machine gun

on her way back from school.

We've started the war. The Brits are

tearing apart Belfast for the IRA.

Their American money, by denying the

hits, makes them look more guilty.

The war is raging. When it's over,

we'll be the ones left standing.

I let you go for Paddyboy,

but that's it!

We've got work to do...

and it's not in Maryland.

Hello.

- Yeah?

- How's the family, Ryan?

You nearly lost them, didn't you?

Its easy to get at them.

You should

look after your family better.

Are you there? I understand

your little girl's feeling better.

Losing her spleen will make it

tough on her to fight off infection.

You sick son of a b*tch.

It was him, wasn't it?

He's never going to leave us alone.

He'll never get close to us again.

All he can do is call up.

You get him, Jack.

I don't care what you have to do.

Just get him!

Can I buy you a drink?

No...

Let me buy you one.

Two whiskeys.

The IRA's not responsible

for all this, I know that.

Are you waiting for me to agree?

Its what Ive said all along.

You claim responsibility

for one thing, deny it for another.

Nobody believes you anymore.

I want to know where Sean Miller

and Kevin O'Donnell are.

Let me try and understand this...

You want me to sell out

my fellow Irishmen to you?

- You don't understand me at all.

- I think I do.

I don't care what they've done!

The day I sell out my own people,

Ill put a bullet through my head.

- That's it then.

- Yes, Im not drinking with you.

Okay, Ill go home.

Ill call the Press and let them

film in my daughter's hospital room.

Itll be on the evening news.

I don't care if it wasn't you,

and neither will anyone else.

You'll have so little gun money,

you'll all be out throwing rocks.

I will f***ing destroy you!

Ill make it my mission in life.

Excuse me.

Well, lads, did you hear that?

- The satellite's coming.

- Let's go.

Come on!

Get inside!

SO-13 traced the guns

used in the Lord Holmes incident -

- to an arms dealer

that supplies Gaddafi.

Sean Miller was last seen in a

Zodiac heading out into the Channel.

I checked on the freighters

that were out there that day.

Syrian registry. Involved

in the Middle East arms trade.

- Miller sailed to North Africa.

- Exactly.

Our planes photograph 182 camps

a day in North Africa.

Libyan bases, PLO, Red Brigade,

Action Direct, Red Army Faction...

But on the day

this ship docked in Benghazi, -

- there's activity

in only nine of these camps.

One is PLO, one Shining Path,

these seven we're not so sure about.

- Why?

- Our satellites...

The people in those camps probably

know our satellite schedules.

Marty, unless you authorize us

to retask those satellites, -

- so we can get a look in, -

- we're never going to know

which camp they're at.

Do you know how big a deal

it is to retask those satellites?

Yeah.

Bring up camp 18 again.

Tighten on the camp here.

Let's look up here.

See what we can see.

Show me this grouping here.

That's nothing.

Go back to the bigger picture.

Let me see down here.

What's that? Tighten up on that.

Can you enhance that?

Tits.

The SAS could take out

any one of these camps.

Kill everybody there,

and be gone before the echo fades.

Are you sure this is the same woman?

Keep at it then.

Son of a b*tch.

Hi.

Read it again, Daddy.

The sun did not shine,

it was too wet to play.

So we sat in the house

all that cold, wet day.

I sat there with Sally.

We sat there, we two.

I wish we had something to do.

Too wet to go out.

Too cold to playball.

So we sat in the house

and did nothing at all.

All we could do

was to sit, sit, sit.

We did not like it,

not one little bit.

And then something went... bump.

Paddy O'Neil can sleep at night.

He probably enjoys the irony.

She's not Irish, she's English.

This is the girl you saw

in the jeep, in the blink of an eye?

- Yeah.

- What am I supposed to do?

Tell SO-13 you know who she is.

Give them her picture.

Ask them to look for her.

What do you mean, what do you do?

You walk into a bar, half of whose

customers want you dead.

You walk up to the IRA's bagman

and publicly threaten him.

You're not a field man.

You are an analyst. Analyze that!

I am not after your job. Im after

the man who tried to kill my family.

Well then, think. If you tell O'Neil

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