Salt

Please, let me go home. Please,

I'm not who you think I am.

I am really not who you think I am.

- Please, please, I'm not a spy.

- You are a spy.

Please let me go home.

Try again.

I am not a spy, I am a businesswoman.

I work in the sale

of petroleum and gas.

You are here to sabotage

our nuclear ambition.

I'm not a spy. I'm not a spy.

I'm not a spy.

I am not a spy. I am not a spy.

Keep your head down and don't

say anything until we make the the swap.

In case Kim Jong here changes his mind.

Exchange.

I don't understand.

You don't understand what?

All the rules say to leave me, that one

life is not worth blowing operational cover.

You got that right.

If we have to lose someone

for the greater good.

We will.

So why did you do it?

Well...

I didn't do it.

He did.

Once he found out where you were,

there was no stopping him.

He petitioned the Senate...

State department...

We didn't need the publicity, so I

figured we better do something or

he's gonna invade this

God damn Republic himself.

- You okay?

- Yeah.

Hey.

- Good Morning.

- Happy Anniversary.

You want me to make you breakfast?

How about pancakes?

You're cooking?

You're joking, you like my cooking.

Germans don't joke.

Bert likes my cooking.

Get your bugs off the table.

- They're spiders.

- They're bugs.

- Spiders.

- They're bugs.

Are you doing this on company time?

It's my anniversary and

I want it to be perfect.

But...

that is not sexy.

No, but it is utilitarian and

utilitarian is the new sexy.

Ran the trace, first name

Usem, last name Utsa.

- Any verifiable hits?

- Only one.

Francis, do me a favor...

stick it in the safe till tomorrow.

- Matahari here's got a big night tonight.

- Yes sir, Right away Sir.

Sir?

Do I look like a, "Sir" to you?

From head to toe.

I'm surprised he didn't

call you "Your Majesty".

I like the ring of that.

I think I prefer "Your Majesty".

Was I ever that young?

Younger.

Walk me out.

How did the Oval Office briefing go?

You know, the usual.

The President wants to know what's

happening in Russia the day before it happens.

What about you?

I heard that interview went well.

Hm... Fingers crossed

Are you sure about this?

Once you start pushing papers,

there's no turning back.

I had the strangest feeling

when I was out last time.

I was homesick.

Homesick?

Sir... Sir...

We got a walk-in...

A defector, 10 minutes ago.

- Here?

- Guess he's not buying our cover.

- You get his bona-fides?

- He's Russian.

He says he's FSB, but

won't give us any more.

- He's a strange guy.

- How's his English?

Passable, not great.

- But if we got down to the subtleties of English...

- Ted, Mike's gonna be waiting for me at home.

Yeah, and I got a plane to catch.

Come on Salt, no one can sort

out a nut job from the real thing faster than you.

- I got 25 minutes.

- I got 26. Let's go.

Yeah, okay. We'll

decide when we know more.

- Who called Counter-Intelligence?

- Not me.

Hey, Ted. We're crashing the party.

- Peabody.

- Salt.

Please remove the hood.

Microphones are on.

Checking levels.

Baseline recording.

Neuro-scan is up. Ready to go.

Commencing audio and visual recording.

Testing ear piece.

Interview has commenced at 14:42.

You're married.

A husband must be a distraction

for a female intelligence officer.

Well, we're here to talk about you.

So what is your name?

My name is Alec Vassilly Orlov.

I have cancer.

I'm moved.

A defector with cancer. Are you selling secrets for

chemo or are you afraid of dying?

If I have gained anything by damming myself,

it is that I no longer have anything to fear.

- Russia is also dying.

- Alec Vassilly Orlov.

Shows up in 1993 in

Novosibirsk blast, Siberia.

He's on Victor Rasovsky's staff there.

He checks out as FSB.

The scan says he's

truthful on the cancer.

Prior to '93...

Nothing...

He doesn't exist.

I have somewhere I

need to be, Mr. Orlov

So if you wouldn't

mind getting to the point.

In English please.

Others are listening.

In a gymnasium, a Soviet Olympic

wrestler named Sacha Jordorovich,

meets for the first time,

the only female

Chess Grandmaster of her era.

Within a month they were married.

And within a year, a child.

One month more,

the child was back

in the same hospital,

sick with fever.

And within days after that,

the child, suddenly was dead.

Yes,

a child was dead...

and yes,

a child was buried.

But the Chenkov baby was still alive.

And became the property of another man.

A master spy who had devised the greatest

plan a Russian patriot could ever invent...

A plan to destroy America.

It had all started with an

American named Lee Harvey Oswald.

In 1959,

he emigrated to Russia.

Three years later,

he returned home. But, the man who

came back to America, was in fact a Russian spy...

named Alec.

On November 22, 1963,

Alec became the first

success of the new program

and a hero of the Soviet Union.

The spy master was now given

the go ahead, to create many more like Alec.

Scores of agents.

Males and females

to be substituted for Americans.

At an abandoned monastery,

Chenkov and other boys

and girls learned English long

before they learned Russian.

Drilled in idiom, idiosyncrasy.

And ideology.

And by methods of rigorous

physical and psychological programming.

The spy master made warriors of iron.

Unquestioned and unbreakable.

You're killing me, man.

When does the good fairy come in?

Never...

It's a story without hope.

Chenkov was matched with a child

of a visiting American family.

There was an accident, the family died.

Chenkov was sent to America,

to live a complete lie...

and to patiently await the

day to attack from within, day X.

The long awaited mission is here.

Chenkov will travel to your

city to kill the President of Russia,

at the funeral of the

American Vice President. Chenkov is KA12.

KA12?

It's an urban legend.

Highly trained Russian sleeper agents,

inserted into American society to sabotage and assassinate.

supposedly, theyd wait years to strike.

Decades even.

Hmm... Supposedly.

What's the matter, Ted?

You don't believe in moles?

I believe in moles, alright.

Just not the boogey man.

Specially if the plan is to

kill their own president.

This guy's selling smoke.

Wrap it up, Eve.

So a Russian agent is gonna kill

the Russian president. Is that it?

- Hmm...

- Okay.

Thank you very much

and what would you like in

return for that information?

I simply wish to help you

do what you need to do.

You're good.

KA-program is brilliant bull-sh*t,

but I'm officially off-duty,

so you can tell the rest of your

little story to one of my colleagues.

- Salt.

- Yes.

The name of the

Russian agent is, Salt. Evelyn Salt.

My name is Evelyn Salt.

Then you are a Russian spy.

Truthful.

So far, the FMRI has registered

truthful on everything he said.

Ted.

Call Protective Services and

make sure they find my husband.

- Where are you going?

- I need to get to the phone.

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