The Falcon and the Snowman

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills

From whence cometh my help

My help cometh even from the Lord

Who hath made heaven and earth

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved

He that keepeth thee will not slumber

Behold, he that keepeth Israel

Shall neither slumber

Nor sleep

The Lord is thy keeper

The Lord is thy shade

Upon thy right hand

The sun shall not smite thee by day

Nor the moon by night

The Lord shall preserve thee

From all evil

He shall preserve thy soul

The Lord shall preserve thy

Going out

And thy coming in

From this time forth

And even

For evermore

Chris.

Chris!

Easy, now. Easy.

Easy.

Easy. Hey, hey, OK!

All right, climb up there, girl!

There you go! Climb on up now!

There you go! There you go!

Get up there now! Get up there!

OK!

Come on, let's go for it now!

Go for it! Yeah!

Go get 'em, Fawkes! There you go!

There you go! OK! Yeah!

Go get 'em, Fawkes! Go get 'em!

Go get 'em!

Count it and make sure.

-You a resident in the United States?

-Yes, sir.

-Are you a resident?

-Yes, I am.

-Any fruits or vegetables?

-No, sir.

-OK. Thank you.

-Thank you.

Hello there. How are you today?

I'm doing fine.

Would you pull over

to the inspection area, please?

-What are these?

-Prescription Lomotil.

-How long have you been in Mexico?

-Just for the summer.

-Hi.

-How you doing?

-It's 82nd Airborne. Pleiku.

-2nd Division Marines. Korea.

Yeah? All right!

-Thanks a lot.

-All right.

Where is it? Where is it?

Good boy! Good boy!

Attaboy!

Go get 'em!

That's it! Good boy! Good boy!

Where is it?

You can't walk with the ball!

You gotta dribble it!

Hey, Carmen!

-Hi, Chris. Long time no see!

-He up yet?

What do you think?

Daulton Lee, we've got you surrounded!

Who's there? Don't move!

It's me! It's me! Don't shoot!

Chris? Chris, stay down!

-They got us surrounded!

-No! I was joking!

I was just kidding! Just kidding.

Hey!

-How are you?

-All right. You're looking well.

Yes, I'm looking very well. So are you.

Sorry about that.

Plop! Little does it know!

You write a friend a letter,

you expect a response.

-That's the way it works.

-Good to see you.

Good to see you, but I'm serious.

I take it very personally.

-I write very few letters.

-I wanted to surprise you.

This isn't a visit. I'm back for good.

Changed my mind. No seminary.

Just couldn't go through with it.

What have you been up to?

Pass the cantaloupe.

Is this a bad joke?

I thought you'd congratulate me

for coming to my senses.

You're wrong! How many guys do you

know whose best friend is also his priest?

I mean, I could've gone to confession

and told the truth!

-I'm disappointed.

-When did you last go to confession?

That's irrelevant.

-Did you tell your folks?

-They don't know I'm back yet.

That'll be interesting!

The committee recommended

the impeachment

of President Nixon, charging that

he acted in a manner contrary to

his trust as President and subversive...

I don't care what these people say.

The man is innocent!

-Right, Dad?

-Keep it up.

Maggie, the garbage.

You gotta give me this moment!

I may never be right about anything again!

You find this amusing?

Hardly.

Dad, it's for you!

-Mr. Waldie.

-Aye.

-Mr. Flowers.

-Aye.

-Mr. Mann.

-Aye.

-Mr. Sarbanes.

-Aye.

Mr. Wiggins.

-No.

-No.

-Mr. Moorhead.

-No.

It's unbelievable.

You'll call Father Glenn today?

-It won't hurt to talk to him.

-Ma, it's not gonna accomplish anything.

You don't know that.

You remember Tony Owens' son Gary?

-Careful, Dad. Careful.

-I'm sorry.

I hired him last summer. I let his old man

know the time had come to reciprocate.

Well?

If you have a better idea,

I'd love to hear it.

I don't think you have

the faintest clue what to do.

-Well, you could ask!

-I'm asking.

Here.

You're to report 9 o'clock

Monday morning.

Here is $10.

Get yourself a haircut.

I don't know what this is, Coach,

but... I'm sure it's great!

You're welcome, son.

RTX Credit. Authorization code, please.

Yes, we show derogatories,

credit and criminal.

-You're early.

-You're late.

Chris.

Chris Boyce, Larry Rogers.

-How's it going?

-OK. Pretty good. How are you doing?

I've been saying to Larry that we'd better

make things more interesting for you

or we'll lose you.

-Going back to school?

-Yes, sir. I plan to next year.

-Medicine.

-Law.

Yeah, that's right. Right. That's excellent.

That's excellent?

I don't know your father.

He's Director of Security

over at Strata Research.

-Retired FBI.

-Yeah, I know.

Good.

That's good.

-Debra.

-Hi!

-Hi. You got a minute?

-Sure.

Get out my personal file, please.

-Chris, you know I can't do that.

-I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please?

-Come on...

-I don't have your access code.

I owe you one.

Wait a second.

"File closed. Under review."

We've been checking into your

background for some time, Mr. Boyce.

You're quite an impressive young man.

Do you ever hear anybody

talking about birds here?

Birds?

No, sir.

The Black World?

At lunch? Or in the men's room?

You never overheard anybody

mentioning Black World projects?

-Just gossip.

-No, sir.

Know why that is?

They don't exist.

At least, not as far as anyone without

government clearance is concerned.

Do you want to do me a favor

and sign this piece of paper for me?

It's backwards.

The Black World is a codename for

a family of covert surveillance satellites.

Conceived by the Defense Department,

manufactured and maintained by RTX,

and used primarily by a company

you may have heard of

-in Langley, Virginia.

-Central Intelligence.

Circling the earth with their cameras,

heat sensors, microwave antennas,

they've significantly lightened

the workload of human spies.

When Brezhnev chats with his mistress

over his supposedly clean phone,

the birds listen in.

When he walks his dog in the park,

the birds take a picture of it

pissing on the shrubbery.

When he tests his latest warhead

underground somewhere in Siberia

and claims he hasn't,

the birds know he's lying.

You'll be working

in the system's nerve center.

A communications vault linking RTX

and our associates in Virginia

with tracking stations

all around the world.

Alaska, Guam, Iceland, Australia,

to name a few.

You'll be dealing with correspondence

that relates to the activities

of the satellites.

Correspondence that you will find

designated top secret.

It's protected by sophisticated

cryptographic equipment

developed by

the National Security Agency.

You're not to discuss

any aspect of your job

with non-cleared RTX employees.

This is as far as I can go.

Not with your girlfriend.

Not with your parents.

Not with your dog.

Not in the men's room, not over lunch.

Not in your sleep. Nowhere.

Are we clear so far?

Miss.

I'm not the secretary.

There is no secretary.

I think somebody might've made

a mistake. Is this the black vault?

No, but you're getting warm.

The vault's over there.

-F***!

-Excuse me.

-Mr. Norman?

-Who the hell are you?

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