Timecop Page #3

Sure is a handsome devil, isn't he?

- He's not my type.|- What did you want to talk about?

What do you know|about him?

Capable of eating|his young.

He sure seemed interested|in you this afternoon.

He interests me.

Atwood named him.

- You're shittin' me.|- He's the one who sent him back.

- Why didn't he testify?|- McComb would go after his family.

He also said McComb|has half of the agency. I believe him.

He doesn't have me.

I said, he doesn't have me.

- Well, f*** you too.|- He's gonna close the agency.

Then no one can stop him|from going back.

- This one is mine.|- Not unless I say it is.

The son of a b*tch|is a presidential candidate.

If you haul him in, you better have|enough evidence to plug up the Potomac.

- You believe me.|- I always believe you...

but you're not always right.

Yeah.

Come over to the house for dinner.

Carol would love to see you.

Thanks. Some other time.

You're allowed to have a life.|I read it in a manual.

I'll tell you this:|If I cannot go back to save her...

this scumbag is not|going back to steal money.

Go home, Max.

If you won't come to mine,|go to yours.

By the way, when I said|McComb hasn't bought me...

you were supposed to say,|"I know that."

I know that.

System initialized.

Destination, please.

Home.

There are no new messages.

Television.

Play tape.

It's going to look like|this when I'm finished.

See? Very nice.

"Victorian Villa Deluxe Birdhouse."

This thing is gonna be bigger|than our house by the time I'm done.

Okay. Uh-huh.

- Want some help?|- Want some help?

Yeah. You can buy the birdseed.

Okay. Divide all these parts...

into groups to determine|their structural function.

- I should buy more videotapes.|- I should buy more videotapes.

Gotta be in the mood to do this.

- You were a second ago.|- You were a second ago.

I think that I should...

start with something|easier to put together.

Huh? Honey?

Maybe you should lay out|all the parts first, then...

- You know...|- I think I wanna try from memory.

Just find part "A"|and work from there.

The controversy...

over government-provided campaign funds|is in the news again.

The White Supremacist Party has|qualified for matching funds...

sparking many groups to petition|for the abolition of the practice.

Meanwhile, Senator McComb's|fading presidential bid...

received another blow...

when today it was denied|federal campaign matching funds.

Sources indicate|the senator is out of money...

and may be forced|to withdraw from the race.

Though no official|statement has been made...

independent party leaders claim that|the denial will bolster their play...

for the upcoming|presidential election.

With the polls showing|independent candidate Elgin Michaels...

trailing the incumbent|by only six points...

There are no new messages.

Who are you?|Who sent you?

Who sent you?

Fifty thousand volts, motherf***er.

Have a nice day.

Walker?

Walker!

My name's Fielding.|I'm with Internal Affairs.

He messed up my apartment.|You can kill him.

You've got some more inside.

- Everybody freeze!|- I'm a cop! I'm a cop!

I.D.|I.D.

Get in there.

You, he's under arrest.

They're all under arrest.

Assault, attempted murder,|makin' a mess.

Sector 17, Sector 19.

Report for duty|in five minutes.

If you'd like,|I'll have the door removed.

I had company|this morning.

- You look like they stayed awhile.|- McComb sent them.

- Did they say that?|- I said that.

- And what does I.A. Want?|- Atwood was your partner.

Internal Affairs isn't convinced|you can be trusted anymore.

- She's not going to follow me.|- We've got a phase four. You take it.

Send somebody else.|I want to be where McComb is.

A little refresher course in Agency|etiquette: I'm the director, I direct.

I authorize the missions. I make|the assignments. This one's yours.

This agency isn't dead yet, but if I|can't keep you from McComb, it will be!

- Fielding, get in here!|- She'll get in my way.

Ask her to stay behind you.|You've got an hour until launch.

- You're not funny.|- I'm never funny.

Yeah?

Disturbance has jumped|from four to six, sir.

Yes.

Yes.

I catch you f***in' this machine again,|I'll break your neck.

- Sorry, Chief.|- Looks like safe sex to me.

- Show me.|- Okay.

Here we go. The ripple was steady|at four, then spiked past five to six.

On the board, it looks|like it set off Waimea.

Somebody's really doing a number.

We've located the point|of origin and...

- it's right here in Washington.|- Sh*t.

Come on.|You're out of here.

You should have an exhibit.

Oh, really? All my best stuff's|at home.

I really could care less|whether you like me or not...

but you don't know|a thing about me.

T minus three minutes and counting.

I've been with I.A. For two years.

I'm field-rated in weapons and tactics|and speak three languages. Impressed?

- I'm blown away.|- I read the Atwood file.

You didn't mention you could read.

He was your friend,|and you still asked to go after him.

- He crossed the line.|- Or he crossed you.

Launch sequence activated.

Authorized personnel only in the area.

She looks just like the Vollmers!

T minus two minutes and counting.

Why is everyone so nervous?

When a launch goes wrong,|they're the guys who scrape the wall.

And you do look like|the Vollmer twins.

Who are the Vollmer twins?

Launch personnel only in the bay.

T minus one minute 30 seconds|and counting.

Magnetic field polarity|initiation in ten seconds.

Telemetry check is initiated.

Are we gonna blast to the past!

Yee-hah!

Green for launch!

I've run dozens|of simulated launches...

but I-I never noticed|that wall before.

- "Simulated"?|- This is my first real launch.

Great. Don't stick|your head out of the window.

- She's a little shaky.|- Blood pressure'll loosen her teeth.

Her pulse is pushing 140.

If she farts, she'll get|ahead of the pod.

Fielding, listen to me.|It helps to concentrate...

on something relaxing|during a launch.

What do you think about?

Not swallowing my tongue.

- How's Walker?|- You'd have to shake him...

to be sure he's awake.

- He's awake.|- T minus 30 seconds.

- Have they ever lost a pod?|- Ask the Vollmers.

- Where are they?|- See those two red spots?

- Oh, God.|- Nine... eight... seven...

Six... five... four...

Three... two... one...

Zero.

They're away.

Is this the hottest thing or what?

Goddamn Ricky.

So much for a dry run.

We're alive.

- Are we where we're supposed to be?|- Give me a date.

Sunday, October 9, 1994.

Target.

- We're close.|- October 9?

- I'll be 16 tomorrow.|- Where?

I was living in Colorado.|Man, this is weird. Whew.

Yeah? Well, don't get sentimental|and try to visit yourself.

I'd like to call myself, tell me not to|sleep with Bobby Morgan after my party.

It's really disappointing.

A smart woman|would call Bobby...

and give him|some advice.

Aw, yeah, right.

- How long was Atwood your partner?|- Three years.

- Was it difficult to bring him back?|- What do you think?

You got a family?|Hmm?

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