01x01 - Pilot

[bunniefuu]

(theme music playing)

♪ ♪

(people chattering)

(patriotic music playing)

Evening, Mr. Ambassador. Looking forward to the party tonight.

I'm sure you are, Talbot.

I was wondering if I could get five minutes with you tomorrow.

Yes. I've been meaning to talk to you about your future.

I just saw a job posting for a director of environmental affairs.

We'll talk in the morning then.

Perfect. (clicks tongue)

(sighs) I can't wait to fire that guy.

Rafiq! We're going on a mission.

No, we are not going on a mission.

Please get away from me. I'm not even supposed to talk to you.

Come on. No fuss, no muss.

Nope.

Heard you lost your driving privileges, because they had to steam clean that SUV that you took to the cricket match.

It's not my fault those ladies couldn't hold their liquor.

Come on, be a buddy.

I'm the only one at this f*cking embassy who bothered to learn your name.

I'm not taking you!

Let's go!

I guess I'm taking you.

(Talbot laughs)

(mutters) Putz.

Yeah! Now we're talking.

I'm telling you, it's getting dangerous out there.

I don't feel safe going out. There's a rage in the air.

You know what your problem is? You telegraph fear.

The militants can smell it on you.

Ah. You telegraph arrogance.

The militants are going to cut your throat and put it on YouTube.

They have a channel just for that.

Yeah, exactly.

So you think I'm going to take any risks in this a**l cavity of a country?

Rafiq: Ooh, so you're writing a travel guide?

Talbot: I'm just here to help, my man.

Rafiq: I'm telling you, this is the wrong day for your bullshit.

♪ ♪

Man: Oh, yeah.

(buzzing)

(woman moans) Yeah.

Man: Yeah.

Woman: Oh, yeah.

Man: Oh, sh*t, yeah.

(both moaning)

Man: f*ck, yeah.

Woman: Yeah.

Mmm. Sweet Jesus.

(muffled shouting)

(breathing hard)

(shouting stops)

(man grunting)

Walter?

Walter!

sh*t! Don't scare me like that!

(laughs)

Oh, too soon. The sexy ninja assassin took the pillow away too soon.

Evil American bureaucrat is still alive.

Oh. Let's try something else.

No, on, no. We'll get it.

It's a timing issue. Another 15 seconds would've done it.

I don't want to go to jail for m*rder.

They'd never hit you with m*rder.

Manslaughter, but you just tell them you were defending yourself.

I was trying to att*ck you. Ooh, let's try that.

I'll pretend to be attacking you, and you pretend to take a dirty Kn*fe from a room service tray and k*ll me, yeah? Why do all of your sexual fantasies involve you getting m*rder*d?

Why do all your sexual fantasies involve you fleeing Cambodia in a cargo container?

That story wasn't a sexual fantasy.

That was my childhood.

Come here, baby. Papa's thirsty.

(knocks on door)

Oh! Christ almighty.

Untie me!

Oh, God.

As you know, threesomes are extra.

Whoever it is, get rid of them. Untie me, untie me!

(woman knocks)

I know he's in there.

There's no Walter here.

Excuse me.

You can't come in here.

Mr. Secretary.

(door opens)

This had better be important, 'cause as you can plainly see, I am in the middle of a meeting.

(beeps)

I found him. Yeah, we'll be there in seven... make that eight minutes.

You're not his wife?

Yeah, thank God.

Kendra, Jasmine. Jasmine, Kendra.

Pants. Car.

Now.

(clicks tongue)

♪ ♪

Do you want a mint?

No, thank you.

Brief me.

Okay, Pakistan.

Did you read through the binders I sent you?

Unless they were encrypted on the vaginal walls of an Asian call girl, no.

(sighs) What binders?

The ones marked "Secretary of State" on the covers, the ones containing incredibly sensitive SCI level clearance information.

Oh, yeah. I think I might have left them on the bar at Bobby Van's.

We'll have to send someone to track them down and shred them.

Billy can do it?

Billy?

He's the bartender there.

Right. So, you want to trust Billy the bartender with classified m*llitary documents and the names of covert CIA agents in Pakistan?

He's a good kid. He's also my wife's personal trainer.

I think he might be f*cking her.

(scoffs)

Are you absolutely sure no mint?

Speaking of which, let's not let a good crisis go to waste.

Call my wife, tell her I've been with the president for the last 12 hours.

Now, tell me everything I need to know about Pakistan and not a g*dd*mn thing more.

Okay.

(buzzing)

♪ ♪

(man speaks over PA)

(ringing)

Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up.

Hello?

(on phone) Hey! It's Zeke.

Where are you? We're somewhere in the Red Sea.

Can't be too precise, OPSEC and all that. How are the kids?

They're good. When can you Skype with them?

Not for a while. We're underway.

The guy from the bank called again.

It sounds like they're gonna foreclose, so I need you to increase the cash flow.

(whispering) Ashley, I keep telling you, send me more product.

I'm not gonna break into my stock. You need to charge more.

Your markup is pathetic. They can't pay more.

Most of these poor guys, they net 250 a week.

After sending money home, Xbox, p*rn... there's nothing left.

Who the hell pays for p*rn these days?

Horny sailors stuck in the middle of the ocean with no wifi.

Look, Zeke, I really don't wanna have this argument again.

What do you mean? We're not arguing. - Z-Pak.

Been looking all over for you.

Ashley, don't hang up.

Sir! sh*t just got real.

Admiral wants his best sticks in the air, and that definitely means you.

Get off the phone. Now.

Ashley, these dr*gs are the only thing keeping everybody on this ship awake.

Then they need to drink more coffee.

How about a little compassion for the brave men and women who keep you from having to wear a burqa?

Okay, fine. I will put a yellow ribbon on my bumper.

Zeke: Please, Ashley, I'm begging you.

(whispers) Send me more product. You've gotta do it, Ash!

Right now, look, I really gotta go.

Listen to me! Ashley.

I'm late.

By the way, so is your alimony check.

Don't hang up! No!

(dial tone)

f*ck me.

Ashley, I really need you to get here on time.

I can take the first customer.

Okay. Is this it for today?

♪ ♪

(people chattering)

(horn honks)

(man shouts)

This is it. This is it.

If I'm not back in 10, just drive away like nothing's wrong, call the op desk, remember me fondly.

(chattering)

♪ ♪

(sighs) Do you have the package?

The price has gone up.

What is it with your people? We agreed on a price.

I agreed to nothing.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Whatever it is, I can pay.

You got me by the short hairs. Go ahead and squeeze.

Lemonade my balls.

Double.

Double? No problem.

Pleasure doing business with you.

At least throw in a shirt.

Too much to ask? Everything's a negotiation.

It's not necessarily a bad thing.

Back to the embassy, Tonto.

(engine starts)

As much as I relish leaving this sh*thole, I'm gonna miss your exquisite weed.

This was all about scoring dope?

No, this is about scoring with Malena.

She works at the Danish embassy, and I intend to nation build with her at the big party tonight.

Hence the primo smoke.

Ah. Diplomacy takes many forms.

Look, I spend all day organizing clean water projects, only to see them sabotaged by the Taliban.

Go! (speaks foreign language)

I deserve a little Danish nookie.

What happened to Eva at the German embassy?

She wanted me to help her get a green card, and that kinda... (mimics plane diving) ruined everything.

And if she finds out about Malena, she'll send me to the gas chamber.

I'm glad you're risking my life so that you can dine out, at the International House of p*ssy.

(people shouting)

That's no gay pride parade.

sh*t. They're still protesting the election results.

Where do they find time to do all this protesting?

Don't they have jobs?

Whoa, whoa.

Why are you stopping?

Something's not right. f*ck me.

Stay here.

(mutters) Damn it.

(shouting continues)

(g*nf*re)

sh*t!

Okay, you need to get out of the car and help me change this tire.

Yeah, pass. I'm not really feeling the love out here tonight.

Hey, they're coming here for us, okay?

Where the hell is a drone when you need one?

Oh, God! I'm gonna be butt-r*ped!

You need to really stop obsessing about man-r*pe and get the f*ck out of the car!

Let's get the f*ck out of here, god damn it!

Go, go, go, go!

(g*nf*re)

Go! Go!

(people shouting)

Oh, Jesus! (grunts)

(breathing hard)

Oh, outstanding.

Okay, see that? This is not a spontaneous demonstration.

It's a show staged by the m*llitary.

Which way back to the embassy?

No, no, it's blocked.

We're going to have to find a place to lay low for a while.

How about Vancouver?

Ah.

(beeping)

No signal.

Huh?

f*ck!

The m*llitary has cut off cell reception.

They do that a lot?

Yeah.

Yeah. It's a Pakistani tradition.

(shouting)

(g*nf*re)

♪ ♪

Man: I just want to get a straight answer.

Walter! Finally, somebody who knows what's going on in the world.

Good morning, Mr. President.

Morning.

Are you sick? You don't look well.

I've never felt better. What's going on in Pakistan?

There are anti-government protests on the streets of Karachi and Islamabad.

Diplomatic enclaves are sealed. TV and radio are down.

Internet's down, too, which means there's no Twitter feed to tell us what the hell's happening.

Why can't we reach the Pakistani ambassador?

He's been recalled. Flew out of Dulles six hours ago.

It's a signal. The last call.

Stools on the bar. No more business as usual.

- Smells like a coup d'état.

Led by who?

I can't tell you that.

I'm the president.

No, I mean... we don't know.

Terrific.

Man: Mr. President, all of Pakistan's nuclear warheads are at risk.

Imagine if al-Qaeda got their hands on them.

Our contingency plan needs to be put into motion immediately.

Contingency plan?

Pierce, haven't you been a busy little beaver?

President: Now, what carriers do we have nearby?

Well, the Reagan had to leave station three days ago due to propulsion issues, but we do have a backup en route, and they can launch from the Red Sea.

Adds a little flight time, so we've begun putting assets in the air now.

All we need is your go-ahead, Mr. President.

Whoa. Gentlemen, let's just take a breath here and tuck our tiny little peckers back into our pants.

Here's an idea. Let's find out what the f*ck is going on, then we can start World w*r III!

(softly) Jesus, Walter, your breath is a g*dd*mn fire hazard.

Who do we have on the streets outside the embassy?

We're still checking on that, Mr. President.

Most of our key people were already at the embassy at a social function when it was sealed off.

It's the monthly "This country's a ticking time b*mb, "so we might as well all get shitfaced" gala.

It's a heck of a party, actually.

We need eyes and ears on the ground.

(whispering) And I need hair of the dog, pronto.

Yeah, well, you know there's no alcohol allowed in the situation room.

Well, make it look like orange juice.

Christ, do you think LBJ fought Vietnam in this room sober?

Yeah, we lost that one, remember?

Tell me about it. This job sucks ass.

I should've asked for Secretary of Interior.

No one's gonna take you away from a hooker in the middle of the night to save Mount Rushmore.

Yeah, well, too late.

Can I have a mint?

(scoffs)

Uh, a guy named Billy called, says he's a bartender at Bobby Van's. He says it's important.

I don't... I don't know.

Kendra?

(people shouting)

It's not safe here.

You might as well have a target on your back with that Brooks Brothers jacket.

I'm sorry.

I left my fez at home.

Okay. sh*t!

I've got to get you off the street.

We'll go to my parents' house. It's not far from here.

Isn't it a little soon to meet your parents?

I mean, we just started dating.

Rock and roll, baby!

Hey, what's going on, buddy?

Hey, you know that public affairs officer?

Gail what's-her-name? Real cute.

Who? Gail Sweet?

Yeah!

Yeah.

She's pregnant.

What?

(laughs) Yeah!

(chuckles) CJ over in Medical told me.

God! Whoever she's banging... luckiest son of a bitch on this boat... just became the unluckiest.

She ain't pregnant. (chuckles)

She can't be.

How would you know that?

Oh, sh*t!

Ah! She swore to me she was on the pill, man.

Pregnant?

Well, that's what CJ says.

f*ck me! I cannot afford this sh*t right now.

I'm worried about you, Z-Pak.

I'm dealing with two underwater mortgages and child support.

I've been living off of credit cards since flight school, flying $65 million fighter jets for minimum f*cking wage!

I should've been a plumber like my brother.

Son of a bitch makes out like a bandit.

Well, you both know how to lay pipe.

Zeke: I could teach people to push pills for me.

You in?

f*ck no.

No, I'm thinking of taking my FAA exam.

Yeah, gonna fly for FedEx or JetBlue!

I hate to pop your dream bubble, but FedEx ain't hiring and Jet Blue pays sh*t.

Where'd you hear this?

Why do you think Mace and Boomer just re-upped?

Well, it ain't for the food, that's for damn sure.

So, you with me?

(jet passes)

Doesn't seem like I got much of a choice.

Roger that.

(woman speaks on PA)

Is there any money in crop dusting?

Now, will somebody please tell me who the f*ck we're supposed to b*mb the sh*t out of?

Talbot: Word is Walter Larson's gonna make a run for president.

Rafiq: Mm-hmm. And the last time he was here, I hooked him up with girls.

Twins. Blonde Asian twins.

High degree of difficulty in this g*dd*mn desert.

And he told me that he and I were, and I quote, "cut from the same cloth."

If he gets elected, it'll be payback time.

Why are you here?

Because I can't get back to the f*cking embassy.

No, I mean, why are you in the foreign service?

Mmm! You make a miserable diplomat.

Because when all the other pricks from my class at Dartmouth went off to Wall Street to suck every nickel from the poor and middle-class, I didn't want to be one of 'em!

Hard as it may be for you to fathom, I want to make a difference.

Ah, by procuring prostitutes for your boss?

You know what?

An army marches on its stomach.

Walter Larson marches on his d*ck.

Who cares? Underneath all that, Walter's a good guy.

(strained) I heard he tips well.

(people chattering)

Is that fresh-squeezed?

(whispers) Yeah, just like you asked.

All right, we now believe that whoever is in charge has assumed command and control of their nuclear arsenal, and is attempting to relocate the warheads.

Terrific.

Pierce: Mr. President, we need to take out those key sites before they can be moved.

Come on. Once they're hit, it'll be too late.

These sites are just guesses. It's your same bad intel that missed Bin Laden year after year while he was swapping wives every night right in the middle of Abbottabad.

All right, Walter, what's your proposal?

Call an emergency session of the UN Security Council, get a regional summit going.

The region will be a smoking ruin before your summit can negotiate a group rate on hotel rooms.

You'll never hit all those sites, and the ones you miss will end up being sold to the highest bidder on the black market!

Mr. President, if you go with this plan, it won't be long before you see a listing for a long-range ballistic m*ssile on eBay.

♪ ♪

(exhales sharply)

Oh, hello. Nice house.

You live here?

Yeah, what did you expect?

I don't know. A mud hut, stray goats, burning tires.

Oh. Yeah. (laughs)

Hey, what does it feel like to be such an assh*le?

Well, the world is run by assholes, my friend.

(sighs)

Don't underestimate the assh*le.

It's the most powerful muscle in the body. It will crush you.

(radio chatter)

(engines whining)

Ready?

Z-Pak!

You're being singled out for something special.

Sir, what's going on?

You know as much as I do!

Just get on station and await further instruction.

Hey.

Huh?

Here's the 50 that I owe you for the Provigil.

How soon can you get me some more?

Sir, having a little supply issue!

(jet passes)

Should be all straightened out shortly. I'll be in touch, sir!

Good! I shouldn't have to remind you that if I fall asleep, our planes end up crashing into one another.

Sir, no, sir!

This... is Alex, the one that I was telling you all about.

Oh. Yes.

So happy to finally meet you.

Likewise.

Our son informs us that your ignorance of all things Pakistani is truly astonishing, a sight to behold.

I cannot wait to witness it for myself.

Father: Naeema.

Naeema: And why is it you treat my boy, little Rafi, so badly?

Hush, woman! He is lucky to have this job.

But he has gained so much weight since he started working for you people.

What are you feeding him?

Ignore my wife.

My son, he is very happy working for you.

May I ask what you do?

I'm a writer.

He writes popular fiction... spy novels, thrillers, things like that. He's been translated into seven languages.

Random House has an offer on the table.

A very generous offer.

I refuse to give up movie and television rights.

The Middle East is hot right now.

(door opens)

Man: What's going on?

Who is this?

This is...

Rafi's friend from the American embassy.

This is my uncle Hasan.

He's a renowned psychologist, teaches at the university.

You work for the CIA, don't you?

What? Me? No! Oh, God.

Honestly. I-I... I am... in no way affiliated with the Central Intelligence Agency. I am a functionary of the State Department at the lowest level.

Naeema: Oh, yes.

What... What are you guys talking about?

(helicopter passing)

We were just discussing how much we admire American foreign policy.

Yeah.

So, do any of you have any idea what's happening out there?

I mean, has there been any news?

Uh... just bits and pieces...

Of people they believe to be CIA collaborators.

(chuckles) Good.

A bit of that droll Pakistani humor you and your fellow countrymen are not so famous for.

(laughs)

No?

Pakistani TV is back up.

♪ ♪

Pierce: Sound?

Man: Working on it.

Who the hell is that?

It's Umair Zaman, the former general. He's ex-ISI leader.

He's our guy.

He was our handpicked guy until he turned radical.

He's still got a lot of support in the army.

He's head of the Pakistani Unity Party, ran in the last election, lost, contested the results.

I guess he's not bothering to wait around for a recount.

Looks like he's in charge now.

There... Ah, sound.

(Zaman speaking Urdu)

Who speaks Urdu?

I do, sir.

Lovely.

If you could translate, please.

(clears throat) He's saying that the drone w*r being carried out inside Pakistan's sovereign borders is illegal.

The former government was complicit in these crimes.

He says the US drone w*r is a Zionist conspiracy.

He's just playing to the cheap seats, Mr. President.

He says the American-Zionist drones have spread dangerous electromagnetic activity across Pakistan, and...

Yes? Go on.

(clears throat) This electromagnetic energy is a secret diabolical program to alter the reproductive biology of our girls and to emasculate our boys.

(Zaman continues speaking)

(whispers) We're not really doing that, are we?

(continues speaking)

What's he saying?

Rafiq: I don't know.

I don't know. Something about the drones being a form of birth control invented by the Israelis.

He's completely off his rocker.

Yes, Umair Zaman is certifiable.

In fact, I certified him.

He suffered a full psychotic break about five years ago.

You treated him? He was a patient of mine for many years.

I have a file upstairs... Quite thick!

He has acute episodic schizophrenia.

Textbook case, really.

So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.

The militants are gonna eat this nonsense up.

There's going to be rioting.

They will burn the Domino's Pizza to the ground again.

We're gonna have to order from Rawalpindi.

That's gonna take forever.

Have you been listening to the television?

I don't believe we've been introduced.

Alex, this is my sister, Fareeda.

You must be my brother's insufferable, oversexed boss.

(sighs)

Sorry to hear about your STD.

(whispering) Jeez, you didn't do me any favors, did you?

(whispering) Hey, listen, I'm not f*cking around, okay?

You stay away from her, or I will cut your throat and put it on YouTube.

Whoa! Hey, my friend, Yeah. We've had a very stressful night.

Let's just inhale and exhale.

I'm just saying... Yeah.

God save us from this lunatic.

It's God who is responsible for this lunatic.

(shouting)

Hey!

What? I can't look?

I'm just looking at her.

(mutters) No, don't look.

Look, I'm not a dog, okay?

I'm not gonna do anything.

Just keep it... okay.

Okay.

"We cannot stand by while our ability to reproduce is att*cked in this way. We will respond by using our long-range power to remove the Zionist state. Israel is an illegal entity."

Did he just say "remove"?

Yes, "remove."

What are the range on their missiles?

Well, we've just discovered they've acquired the ability to reach Tel Aviv.

Terrific.

Translator: "Tonight, we have made history.

"Tomorrow, a new day dawns on our nation.

"Good night.

"God is great."

Thank you. Great job.

(whispers) Get me her details.

Prime minister of Israel on the line.

Oy.

(jet passes)

Oh, dude, I'm really nervous.

This isn't my thing, man.

I just fly jets and blow sh*t up. Why'd they choose me?

Are you kidding me, man?

After downing that Iranian arms shipment, you're a rock star, brother.

(exhales sharply) They got plans for you.

Unless those plans include debt relief, I'm not interested.

Glenn: Hey, come on, buddy.

This is your chance to shine a light on it.

You just relax and be the Z-Pak.

(radio chatter)

What the hell was that?

A Xanax.

Oh, hell, yeah. Gimme one of those.

You're like a pharmacy, man.

Damn, I love flying with you.

Oh, man, I am having the worst f*cking day of my life.

Man on radio: 20 knots over the deck. Cleared for launch.

Man 2 on radio: Verified.

Avi, I understand your concern.

Avi, please. No, no, slow down.

Okay. I...

We're in the process of finding out exactly what he meant.

"Remove" could mean 10 different things in Urdu.

You know these tribal languages.

I promise we will not let that happen.

No, as soon as I hear anything, I will call you.

Yes, I promise that, unlike your grandchildren, I will call you.

Avi, don't do that. Just wait.

(sighs)

♪ ♪

He says that unless we launch a preemptive strike, he will.

Walter, talk to me. Mr. President, I am in the process of tracking down moderate elements in the Pakistani government.

Give me 24 hours to find a different way.

We don't have 24 hours, Mr. President.

We need to remove those weapons now.

Spoken like a true chicken hawk. You're out of line, Walter.

Am I? I was on the g*dd*mn roof defending the last chopper out of Saigon before my 19th birthday.

When you were 19, you were date-raping Radcliffe girls.

f*ck you. Or was it Harvard boys?

Lucky for you, your prick was so small, they didn't have the heart to press charges.

f*ck you! f*ck you!

f*ck you. f*ck you!

Both: f*ck you!

Enough!

What is it with you two?

He started it.

I need better information!

I need a tie breaker!

(whispers) f*ck you.

(whispering) Grab the menu book, 'cause these hungry little beasts need to be fed or they're gonna blow up the planet.

♪ ♪

(crickets chirping)

(stairs creak)

(clicks)

(whispering) Oh, sh*t.

Oh, yeah, mamacita.

This sh*t is solid gold.

(scribbling)

(beeps)

(fax machine trilling)

I want Paris for this!

(whirring)

What are you doing?

Uh... you couldn't sleep either?

You are CIA. I knew it!

Uncle Hasan, I can explain. I had to fax my dad.

I get homesick! Oh, God! (grunting)

Stop, god damn it! That hurts!

(thuds) Oh!

(shouts)

Alex: Damn it!

I'm sorry. What the f*ck is going on?

He's attacking me!

This medical file on Umair Zaman just came in from a source on the ground, Alex Talbot.

♪ ♪

Who's he? - He's a low-level embassy guy.

He works on clean water, malaria projects... stuff like that.

One of your guys, Walter?

Never heard of him.

Alex Talbot.

So he's CIA under diplomatic cover?

No. He applied twice, and we rejected him 'cause there were concerns he wouldn't hold up well under enhanced interrogation.

Well, he's working for you now.

He risked life for country to get us this.

This is page three of 30.

This... This is incomplete.

Well, transmission ended abruptly.

We're trying to pinpoint the phone number now.

Does anybody object to Thai food?

Jesus.

Just circle which one.

The summary, page two.

Zaman's been treated for episodes of delusion and personality disorder going back a decade.

He suffered a full psychotic break.

There's your tie breaker!

How is that a tie breaker?

The man is psychotic and he's got his finger on the button.

While I admit that is cause for concern, Mr. President, the answer is not to start global w*r.

♪ ♪

(sighs)

Pierce, set your plan in motion.

(mutters) Good lord.

I think you're making a big mistake, Mr. President.

(whispering) We're going rogue.

Get me in touch with my old friend Haroon Raja in the ISI.

If we have any hope of averting armageddon, that two-faced Paki weasel is it.

(whispering) Two-faced Paki weasel.

But... You... Don't call him a two-faced Paki weasel.

No, no, of course not. Okay.

Avi.

(chuckles) Oh, man.

The Xanax is starting to kick in!

Zeke: Wait a second, this can't be right.

Our target's right in the middle of a residential district in Islamabad.

Yeah. Went over that in pre-flight.

I'm gonna reconfirm. Flight Op!

This is Hammer One Nine, do you read?

Man on radio: Go ahead, Hammer One Nine.

Zeke: Yeah, I got an issue with this target.

Looks like it's right in the middle of a heavily populated area.

Is that correct?

(phone clatters)

Walter: I just got off the phone with the Chinese ambassador.

He's warning that any action against Pakistan will be seen as an act of aggression against an ally, claims it gives them license to move on their disputed border with India.

This plan is already starting to unleash some major chain reactions, Mr. President.

(whispering) Indian ambassador just called. He sounds freaked out, convinced his country's next on Zaman's hit list.

They're going on full alert.

Also, soup or egg roll? It comes with.

Egg roll. No, too greasy. Soup. - Mm-hmm.

Actually, I'll take both.

Yup. Okay.

And I want zero civilian casualties.

Yeah, and I wanna f*ck Scarlett Johansson.

Mr. President, there are no guarantees in w*r.

I have a high degree of confidence in the full array of assets we've deployed.

That golf junket you took with your wife courtesy of Lockheed Martin is really starting to pay off.

Excuse me?

Damn it, Walter.

Man: General Stanton on the screen.

General, who's the tip of the spear?

(mutters) "Tip of the spear"? What a tool.

Carrier Strike Group 16.

Some of the best pilots this country has ever sent into harm's way.

Man: I've got a location on Alex Talbot.

It looks like a house in a residential district in Islamabad.

♪ ♪

You've been caught red-handed!

We're all going to be sh*t because of this pompous douchebag!

(scoffs) I'm sure you meant that (helicopter approaching) as the compliment it was intended to be.

(pounding on door)

It is the army. sh*t.

Naeema: Good-bye, Random House. - I say we hand him over to them and be done with it!

You wouldn't happen to have an attic or a hidden basement?

(speaking at once)

Come on, Rafiq. This is insane.

We're pals.

No pals! He is CIA! I told you from day one.

Rafiq, come on. We smoked J together.

Mr. Alex, in Pakistan, the army knocking, that is not good. It's not good.

Okay, everybody just shut up! Let me think!

(helicopter overhead)

(pounding continues)

sh*t.

Mr. President, right now I'd like to show you something that's gonna put you in the middle of all the action.

Hello, Mr. President!

♪ ♪

Zeke... I mean, Lieutenant Commander Zeke Tilson here.

Hello, Commander Tilson.

It's an honor, sir, to be chosen to represent all the brave men and women who fight for this country on a daily basis.

And I'd like to take this opportunity...

Glenn: Oh, sh*t, man! I can't feel my f*cking face!

Hey, watch your mouth, man! I'm talking to the f*cking Pre...

(no audible dialogue)

What's going on?

Man: We... We seem to have lost audio.

♪ ♪

Ladies and gentlemen, congratulations.

This plan is off to great start. (clicks tongue)

("Fortunate Son" playing)

I think I mixed up the pills, man.

Yeah, well, what the hell did we take?

If it's what I think it is, we're in for one hell of a ride.

Glenn: I think I just sh*t my pants.