The Rocketeer

Keep her straight...

level.

It's your first time up, so

don't do anything interesting.

- Who me?

- Yeah, you.

Remember, she stalls out

at about 100.

Keep the air speed up,

otherwise you'll be drifting all over.

- If the ailerons start to shimmy--

- I've flown a plane or two.

Not like this one.

This one's a handful.

You sneeze and you'll end up

upside down in a field.

- That's fresh paint, damn it!

- Do you want me to crash?

Gum ain't gonna keep

your butt in the air.

Treat her nice, Clifford. She's gonna

take us all the way to the nationals.

- Let's make some history.

- Yeah.

Crank her up, Goose!

- Make her hot!

- Hot and brakes.

Watch this, Peevy!

[ Cheering ]

National air race

is our next stop!

[ Sirens ]

[ Gunshots ]

You tryin' to save ammo?

Nail 'em!

I can't get a clean shot. Wish that

black-and-white would get out of the way.

Careful what

you wish for.

[ Engine Sputtering ]

[ Fitch ] This is the 3rd car

in a month. Hoover'll be spittin' nails.

The heck with Hoover!

- Outta my way. I can't see.

- Keep drivin'!

Quit movin'. You're

ruining my shot!

Get back. Get --

Let's go, Lenny.

We can't get caught with--

Lousy feds!

Somethin' ain't right.

- [ Sirens ]

- Sorry, Lenny.

He's gettin' away.

Get it off!

- Get him out!

- Peevy!

Hit the latch!

Hurry!

Get the hell

outta there!

Where you goin'?

Cliff!

You all right?

You okay?

Well... that's

the end of that!

- All right, get it outta here.

- [ Peevy ] Wait a minute.

You chase crooks

across our runway,

crash into my pilot,

and it's our fault?

No offence, pops, but we

got more important things...

than get all sweaty

about whose fault it was.

Listen, buddy, building that plane

took three years and every cent we had.

File a claim with Uncle Sam.

You could get lucky.

And wait six months... a year?

We made a livin' with that plane.

Well maybe it's time

to get a real job.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Relax! Relax!

You got that one free, kid. One more

and you'll be eatin' soft food for a month!

Yeah?

- Relax.

- That fly boy hangs one...

on my kisser and

you let him waltz?

Maybe you

had it comin'.

- We need a word with the patient.

- In private.

Your buddy's getting fitted

for a pine overcoat.

If you make it to County General,

Alcatraz is your new digs.

Spit it out, Wilmer.

Where's the package?

Blown to hell.

Why don't you

go look for it?

- Get him outta here.

- Hey, Fitch?

- Take a look at this.

- [ Whistle ]

[ Wooly ]

That must be the gizmo, all right.

Okay, button it up.

- Call 'im, Wooly.

- Why me? I called last time.

- But he likes you.

- [ Sigh ]

There's no mistake

about that, Wooly?

[ Wooly ] I'm afraid not.

We got what's left of it.

I see.

- It was damn sloppy.

- It could've been worse. We got the gizmo.

- Yes, it could have.

- We'll take it down to headquarters.

Was that Wolinski?

They chased it to an

airstrip in the valley.

There was a wreck

on the runway.

The X-3 was destroyed.

Better lost than

in the wrong hands.

- How soon can you rebuild it?

- Rebuild it?

Not a chance.

My people in Washington will have

something to say about that.

Your people in Washington want to turn

anything that flies into a weapon.

Apparently someone else

had the same idea.

I'm afraid

we must insist.

I don't work

for the government.

I cooperate

at my discretion.

Two of my best pilots were

killed during the test phase.

God knows how many more men

would have died if it had flown.

No, gentlemen.

I'm sorry I ever dreamed

the damn thing up.

Sir, I wish

you'd reconsider.

What do we tell

the president?

Tell him

the dream is over.

Tell him

Howard Hughes said so.

[ Peevy ]

What's this 300 gallons here?

We don't burn that much fuel

in two years!

You burned it in two seconds when my

fuel truck went up. It's all itemized.

I didn't blow up your truck.

The guy in the car did.

After bouncing

off you.

Pilots are responsible

for a safe landing.

Where we gonna get this kind of dough?

We've gotta sell the Gee Bee for scrap!

I'm sorry. I hate to

kick you when you're down.

But business is business.

I'm out of pocket here.

Of course, I could always

use the old clown act.

We don't do the clown act

no more.

Peevy, it's worth

fifteen bucks a shot.

Think it over. See it my way

or see me in court.

The clown suit is

in the storeroom.

First show's at nine.

Don't be late.

Lousy nickel-nurser.

Clown act!

Good thinkin', Clifford!

You just set us back four years.

Plus which "Miss Mabel" here

is a flying coffin.

She never let us down before.

I'll go real easy on her.

Number five piston is shot,

nothing left but spit and wire.

I could fly a shoe box

if it had wings, Peev.

- Ouch!

- What's the matter?

There's somethin'

under this seat.

[ Grunting ]

That's my

duffel bag.

- What've you got in there?

- I don't know, but it's heavy.

- Peev, clean that table off.

- All right.

Open her up.

[ Gasp ]

Oh, my!

What've we got here?

Take the bag.

[ Grunting ]

- That's a piece of work, isn't it?

- Yeah.

What do you suppose it is,

a bomb or somethin'?

Too complex

to be a bomb.

I don't see

any moving parts.

I wouldn't touch that

if I were you.

- The housing's still cool.

- Huh.

[ Sniffing ]

Runs on alcohol.

What's the damn thing for?

- Hold it, Peev.

- Huh?

Hold it!

[ Sawing ]

[ Cliff ]

Tip her over. Tip her over.

- Easy, easy!

- I got it.

Watch it.

[ Grunting ]

What's goin' on, Sinclair?

Lenny is dead.

Wilmer's wrapped up like

a mummy in County General.

You didn't

play straight with me.

I'm sorry about your boys,

Eddie... truly.

- What went wrong?

- It's the feds that went wrong.

This was supposed to be a simple

snatch-and-grab. What the hell is going on?

I didn't say it'd be simple.

Snatch-and-grab is what

you're supposed to be good at.

That's what I pay you for.

Now where's the package?

Nothing's gonna happen

until you tell me...

why this merchandise is

so important to the feds.

Send me a cheque.

- Let's get out of here, boys.

- It's a rocket.

A rocket?

Yeah...

Like in the comic books.

- What happened to it?

- I don't know.

Wilmer knows. He's in

the hospital surrounded by cops.

- In a couple of days --

- We don't have a couple of days.

- What room's Wilmer in?

- [ Laughing ]

Mr. Movie Star!

He's gonna walk in with a smile

on his face and a handful of posies.

He's gonna charm

the feds to death.

[ Laughing ]

That's not exactly

what I had in mind.

Who cares what

you had in mind?

You don't need

my services any more.

You can take it from here.

I'll tell you what.

You pay me what you owe me

'cause you're half lunatic.

Yes, shoot!

I want that rocket, Eddie, not

next week, not tomorrow... now.

We have a deal?

You bring me that rocket

and I'll double your price.

You'll triple my price.

What's a movie star

need a rocket for anyway?

Bloody amateurs!

[ Opera ]

[ Phone Ringing ]

Yes.

[ Sinclair ] Lothar,

I've got another job for you...

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