Virus

Synopsis: When a typhoon cripples their boat, the crew sails into the eye of the storm, where they discover a high-tech Russian communications and research vessel adrift. Only one Russian crew member is still alive, raving about "intelligent lightning." They soon discover that an alien life form has taken over the ship's computers and is churning out mechanical warriors. With their own boat destroyed, the crew must battle the creature as the ship reenters the storm.
Director(s): John Bruno
Production: Universal
 
IMDB:
4.9
Metacritic:
19
Rotten Tomatoes:
9%
R
Year:
1999
99 min
Website
752 Views


- Da, Nadia.

- Lonya ?|- Da ?

Yuri !

Alexi.

- MIR ?

- MIR ?

MIR ? MIR !

Alexi !

Captain, winds gusting to 110. If they|get to 130, we're verging category five.

Put her back into the wind, Woods.

Forty-five degrees down swell.

Captain, the barge|is taking on water.

Captain !

I've got eyes,|for Christ's sakes.

I've seen her through worse than this,|so calm down and stand your station.

Woods !

Forty-five degrees the swell.

Green water !

Steve ! Engine room !

Richie, the door's jammed.|I can't get in !

Damn ! If water stalls the engine,|man, we're history.

- Hiko, take the torch and cut the door.|- Yeah, yeah !

- I'm goin' up top.|Hiko, let me help you with that.

Captain, recommend new course heading:|2-2-9 degrees magnetic.

Captain ? Captain.

Once we're in the eye,|we'll have calm seas for two hours.

We can make repairs,|steady the barge.

Skipper, should I head for the eye ?

What the hell is goin' on up here ?

Captain, the engine room|is taking on water.

Then pump it out, mister.|You're the bloody engineer.

We can't get in. The bulkhead|took a hit, and the door's wedged tight.

Hiko's cuttin' it now.

Jesus Christ, the barge !

- We gotta cut that damn thing loose !|- That's not an option, Mr. Baker.

Skipper, should I head for the breach ?|I need an answer now. I'm losin' her.

- Winds 125, Captain !|- Captain, take a look !

That barge goes down,|we go down with it !

Well, that's a chance I'll take.

I'm cuttin' it loose.

- Stay away from that door, mister.

I mean, what's so precious|about your goddamn cargo, Captain ?

The cargo is mine.

I've leveraged everything|I own against it.

And it's not insured.

Christ, what's the matter|with those people ?

So I go out that door, you shoot me ?|I stay here, we're all dead !

Get the tank !|Hold the tank !

Let me tell you something.

You ever put a gun|in my face again--

And you'll what ?

You figure it out.

Sir, what about Foster's idea ?

I can reach the eye.

I've let you down, lad.

The water's coming in|faster than it's going out.

I can't believe we were stupid enough|to sign on with that guy again.

Maricon, ese got a gun on you, man.|I would've decked that son of a b*tch.

He had us pullin' 500 tons of lumber|and steel, uninsured, in a typhoon,

a hundred miles|from any normal shipping lane.

And Woods tells me Foster|got tossed out of the Navy|for striking a superior officer.

- Hey, Hiko.|- Comin' through.

I'll tell you one thing, Stevie.|It's the last time we make a move...

- for percentage of cargo|instead of a salary.|- Damn straight. Damn straight.

- I told you it was a bad idea.|- My idea ? It was your idea.

It was your idea.|What are you talking about ?

How is it ?

- It's bad.|- Define bad.

- We're sinking.|- That's bad.

So does anyone|have any suggestions ?

Mayday, mayday, mayday.|Hello, mayday. Come back, please.

- We got about four days of supplies.|- What is this ?

That's food and that's water.

Put that back, okay ?|We're gonna distribute--

- Fifty-mile range. Piece of junk.

Hey, you buy this sh*t ?

Wait, wait, wait !|I'm picking up a contact.

There might be another ship|in the eye with us.

Twelve miles out.|Speed: zero knots.

- It's dead in the water,|but it's really big.|- Let's hail it, Foster.

Ahoy, vessel, latitude 29 degrees south,|Iongitude 1-7-9 degrees east.

This is the Sea Star. We are 12 miles|northwest of your position.

Come back.

So where the hell|is the captain ?

I'm busy.

Skipper,|there's a ship in the eye with us.

Dead in the water,|about 12 miles out.

Dead in the water ?

I'll be there in a minute.

Dead in the water.

- Captain ?

Dead ahead, 300 yards.

Hail it, Woods.

Unidentified vessel,|this is the Sea Star...

approaching from the northwest,|300 yards out.

Dead ahead, 300 yards.

Unidentified vessel,|this is the Sea Star...

approaching from the northwest,|300 yards out.

Please come back. Over.

- You see anything ?|- Nope. Not a thing.

That ain't ours, brother.

Unidentified vessel,|this is the Sea Star...

approaching from the northwest,|200 yards out.

Come back. Over.

This is the Sea Star|approaching from the northwest.

Is anybody there ? Over.

She looks Russian.

"The Academic Vladislav Volkov,|missile and satellite tracking ship.

Ship's complement: 300.|Armament: none."

She's fitted for scientific|purposes. Their biggest.

"Forty-two labs, five machine shops|outfitted with advanced robotics.

Three parabolic dishes can maintain|simultaneous communication...

with several spacecraft."

Ahoy, the Vladislav Volkov !

I'm the captain of the Sea Star.

Is there anyone aboard ?

Ahoy ! Baker.

Break out the shotguns,|the flashlights and the walkies.

- We're goin' aboard.|- Sh*t.

Jesus Christ.|This is kind of stupid, Stevie.

Shh. Come on.

Very stupid.

Stevie.|This is very stupid, what we're doing.

Stevie. Stevie !

Those are bullet holes, Stevie.

Sh*t, I don't like this at all, man.|This is bullshit.

Ahoy, the bridge !

Anyone aboard ?

The bridge is deserted.

What the hell|happened in here ?

What a mess.

- Looks like somebody|powered it down, Captain.

Captain ? Captain,|do you see anything ?

You'll be the first to know, Woods.

- What do you think ? Pirates ?|- Russian Mafia, probably.

Pipe down. Check the radio.

It's smashed.

These logs are worthless,|unless somebody reads Russian.

That storm wall is 16 miles due east.|Captain, you've got an hour and a half.

He's, uh, thinking, Foster.

You know, something|you were paid to do ?

You thinking|what I'm thinking ? Huh ?

- What ?

Salvage ? Salvage, baby.

You all signed on for a percentage.

But you never figured|I'd bring you this, did you ?

A ship abandoned|in international waters.

Maritime law says|she's a derelict.

All we have to do is tow her to safety,|slap a salvage lien on her,

and the Russian government has to pay us|100/0 of her value to get her back.

Richie, put a number|on her for me.

Well, let's see. There's|three parabolic satellite dishes.

One of them's|kind of f***ed up.

Forty-two labs all primed with,|uh, state-of-the-art stuff.

Let's see. We're talking...

two hundred ?

- Three hundred million ?|- $300 million.

That's what's comin' our way.

The opportunity of a lifetime|if we play our cards right.

That's what, about 30 grand apiece ?

- Three hundred G's apiece.|- Three hundred G's !

That's at one percent ?

I'm willing to change all that,

cut you in for ten percent.

That's $3 million each.

- What do you think of that ?

What do you think ?

- Is it legal ?|- Totally.

Totally legal.

- Sh*t. I'm in if you're in, jefe.|- Hey, I'm good.

What about you, Foster ?

- Oh, Foster, please ! Come on !|- What ?

- Come on ! It's easy money !|- There's no such thing|as easy money, Squeaky.

I'll take that as a yes, Foster.

Baker, find the ship's generator.|We need power to the bridge.

See if you can get|the main engines running.|Squeaky, you go with him. Richie ?

Throw a line down to the tug.|We're gonna have to turn|this ship into the wind.

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Chuck Pfarrer

Charles Patrick "Chuck" Pfarrer, III is an American novelist, screenwriter, and former U.S. Navy SEAL from Biloxi, Mississippi, USA. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Virus" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/virus_22893>.

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