Episode Summary

After a mysterious and beautiful interloper thwarts their heist, the Gunmen unravel a conspiracy that hits closer to home.

Episode Details


Guest Cast


Publicist: Ladies and gentlemen... ladies and gentlemen, thank you. On behalf of our 14,000 employees, I am pleased to say, welcome to E-Com-Con; the most technologically advanced, yet socially conscious company on the Fortune 500.

Langly: Yeah right...

Publicist: In this state of the art research and development centre, we're taking the next step in computer processor evolution and we're creating a new age of innovation and customer service.

Langly: How about a new age of invading your customers' privacy.

Publicist: Sir... are you sure you're on the right tour?

Langly: Yeah, why don't you tell us about that Octium IV chip you're developing...

Publicist: Well... The Octium IV is our latest high speed processor... it's capable of 6.8 gigaflops; that's nearly seven billion calculations per second.

Langly: I mean tell us the truth. How the Octium is secretly designed to keep tabs on the user.

Frohike: [on radio] Patriot One to Patriot Two, we're in position.

Langly: It's got a tiny little modem embedded in each processor, see. So that it can upload your files onto the internet. And your credit history. And your tax bracket, and your social security number. All neatly packaged for these robber barons.

Publicist: Sir, I don't know if this is the proper forum...

Langly: And another thing...

Frohike: [on radio] Patriot Two. Patriot Two, we're in position; shut up already.

Langly: Uhh...is there peanuts in this? [He holds up a kebab, then drops to the floor, faking an allergic reaction. Guards rush to rush to his aid]

Frohike: [on radio] It's all ours, Byers. [He moves the security camera and lifts the lock switch off the chip]

Byers: Uh, Frohike? Hang on tight.

Frohike: What? [The winch yanks him upwards unexpectedly] Byers!

Byers: I don't have winch control! [Frohike is dropped to just above floor level] Our software's been hijacked!

[Frohike is dangling from the winch when Yves, disguised as a man, enters the room and triggers the alarm. She kisses Frohike]

Frohike: You... [Yves takes the chip] Byers... Byers...! [As she leaves Yves sets Frohike somersaulting in his harness] Hey...!

Head Of Security: Where's the chip? [Frohike doesn't answer] Full body cavity search.

Langly: What we won't do for the Constitution.

Frohike: Yeah, like having a role of tape shoved up our wazoos, least it feels like it.

Langly: Yeah, well... we're not going to let this injustice stand. We got to stop these corporate goons from doing to the American people what, what they did to us last night!

Byers: Yeah, right.

Frohike: What's the matter, Byers?

Byers: The matter is we don't have the proof. Without proof, we're nothing more than conspiracy mongers. Without proof, all we can do is cry wolf.

Langly: Don't take it personally, man, they strip-searched all of us.

Byers: Eleven years we've been putting out this paper. Think about it; have we really made a difference? Is America a better place to live because of our efforts? This story would have garnered national attention. It would have forced E-Com-Con to halt the production of the Octium chip, it would have protected the civil liberties of millions of Americans. But without proof...

Langly: Well we can still speculate, can't we? We'll call it editorial commentary.

Byers: For whom? Last week's issue had a circulation of 2824. [The Lone Gunman headline: FBI Fabricates Hacker Crimes] We're preaching to the converted.

Langly: The readership doesn't matter, man, it's the impact on the black ops that counts. They read it too. The guys are the NSA and the CIA... [Holding up the Lone Gunman headline: Teletubbies = Mind Control] They tremble every time we put out one of these babies.

Byers: You think the people at E-Com-Con are trembling?

Frohike: Oh, they will if we get that chip back.

Byers: Like that's going to happen.

Langly: E-Com-Con's already got the Justice Department searching for the dude that snaked it from us.

Frohike: Only they're looking for a he.

Byers: Are you sure that man with the beard was Yves Adele Harlow?

Frohike: Trust me, no guy kisses like that. I mean, uh...

Langly: I heard Harlow's a black cat, a real heavy lifter; industrial espionage, strictly for profit.

Byers: Then she's probably already sold the chip to the highest bidder; the Malaysians, or the Japanese.

Langly: That sucks! We stole it! What the hell are you doing? [Frohike is sweeping an antenna across the room]

Frohike: Our operation was piggybacked. There's only one way Harlow could know our plans.

Byers: You believe she breached our security?

[A bug sweep of a drawer near Byers' produces a positive result. Frohike ferrets through the drawer, before holding up a small microphone]

Langly: Testing, one two three, you bitch! [He drops the microphone into a cup of coffee] That's twice today I've been violated! That's it man, total war, salt the earth.

Byers: [answering phone] Lone Gunmen newspaper group, Byers speaking. Yes, I'm his son.

[The Lone Gunmen are at Bertram Byers funeral]

Frohike: [to Langly] There's enough brass here to make a spittoon.

Langly: So, you never met him?

Frohike: Byers and his old man hadn't spoken since 1989.

Langly: The year we started publishing?

Frohike: The year Byers threw away a government pension to hang out with a couple of lowlife hippie scum. At least, that's what his old man thought.

Langly: Frohike, 12 o'clock.

Frohike: Twelve what? [He looks at his watch]

Langly: One spying, chip-stealing little cross-dresser. [He takes off across the cemetery in pursuit of a bearded man. Langly grabs the man's shoulder, spins him around and grabs his beard]

Bearded Man: Ow!

Langly: Whoa!

Bearded Man: What are you doing?

Langly: You got... soup...

[The bearded man wipes at his beard and leaves, Langly heads back to Frohike]

Frohike: Next time, leave the crack pipe at home.

[Byers approaches]

Frohike: Hey buddy. Nice service. Looks like your old man had a lot of friends in high places.

Langly: Yeah, maybe we could plant bugs on a couple of them. Or, maybe now's not the time.

Byers: I'm about ready to get out of here. [Raymond Helm approaches them]

Raymond Helm: John... We met once, years ago. I'm Ray Helm, I worked with your father.

Byers: Oh, Mr Helm... You're eulogy was very nice, thank you.

Raymond Helm: I meant every word of it. I was hoping you and I could talk about him. I realise you hadn't seen each other in some time...

Byers: I'm just not sure, what there is to talk about.

Raymond Helm: We could talk about how he died.

Byers: According to the police, his car ran off the road.

Raymond Helm: Like I said... we could talk about that.

Raymond Helm: It happened here. Police ruled it a single car accident. There were no witnesses to it, but based on the lack of skid marks... Their explanation was your father fell asleep at the wheel and, ran off the road.

Langly: But you don't believe that?

Byers: You're not saying, my father... killed himself...?

Raymond Helm: I'm saying he was murdered. I don't know where Bert was headed; I don't know that it mattered. Just so he was driving a lonely stretch of road. A perfect place for an ambush.

Byers: What proof do you have of this?

Raymond Helm: Absolutely none, which is exactly the way these people would manage it. The people your father and I work for.

Byers: The government? But why? Why my father? He was a company man.

Raymond Helm: He was a good man, he had a conscience. Sometimes that's a problem in our line of work.

Byers: Meaning what?

Raymond Helm: Last time I spoke to him, he was upset about something he'd found out. He wouldn't tell me what.

Frohike: Hold up. Something... something's funky here. You're telling us the government is behind this?

Langly: You're the government.

Raymond Helm: If you're anything like your father, I knew you'd want to know.

Frohike: Hey buddy, are you sure you want to do this? [They are searching out Bertram Byers house]

Langly: Besides, that government guy said there wouldn't be any proof your dad was murdered.

Byers: If he was murdered, there'd have to be a reason for it. Like Mr Helm said, maybe he knew something. I want to see what's on his PC.

Frohike: Whoa! [He slips on the carpet] Son of a... Hey, this carpet's wet. Like it's been cleaned.

Byers: Check it out.

Langly: Well the good news is, there's no annoying passwords to crack. [He is checking out Bertram Byers computer]

Byers: Uh, what's the bad news?

Langly: There's no nothing else either, only an operating system. Someone cleaned house. Erased everything and defragged this puppy.

Byers: Try a sector editor. See if you can find any recently deleted files.

Langly: B-I-N-G-O. Delete commands up the wazoo.

Byers: Hey, wait, what about this one.

Langly: Looks like a DoD file. Scenario 12D. Text file.

Frohike: What the... Hey Byers, Langly... Come look at this! Take a look at this. [He holds a blacklight bulb over an area of fluorescing carpet] That's blood, and a lot of it.

Langly: I thought your old man died in a car crash...

Byers: My father was dead long before the crash. He was murdered here.

Demolition Man: Byers, Bertram. Blue '92 Caprice. Yeah, we got it.

Frohike: You know, I don't get it. You're saying somebody popped your father in his living room, then loaded him into his car and faked a car crash two miles away. Now, that's a hell of a trick. A dead man driving a car...

Byers: They managed it somehow. There's got to be evidence in the car that the fire didn't destroy.

Demolition Man: You're, Bertram Byers?

Byers: Uh... yeah.

Demolition Man: Date of birth, January 30, 1934?

Frohike: Viagra.

Demolition Man: It's over yonder.

Frohike: That yonder? [They see a car about to be crushed and run to stop it]

Byers: Hey, stop!

Frohike: Hold up!

Byers: Hey, wait! Shut it down!

Frohike: Stop! Shut it down!

Byers: Hang on!

Frohike: Shut it down!

Byers: Shut it down! Shut it down! Come on, shut it down!

Frohike: Cut it! Stop!

Demolition Man: Hey! This yonder. [He pats a cube of car] This one's your Caprice. Hope you didn't leave nothing in the glove box.

Kimmy the Geek: You want some? Try my smorgasbord. [Langly taps him on the shoulder] Hey! Never touch a man with a gun in his hand.

Langly: You're shooting Vikings now? That's not very sporting.

Kimmy the Geek: What do you want, Langly? I'm locked and loaded.

Langly: I need some help circumventing DoDs online security codes.

Kimmy the Geek: DoD, what for? Go put your daisy in somebody else's rifle, hippie. I got to put some serious lead downrange.

Langly: I'm talking about government-sanctioned murder here.

Kimmy the Geek: What is this, another one of your wacko conspiracy theories? Like who shot JR?

Langly: JFK.

Kimmy the Geek: Whatever. My point being, you're wasting your life, man. A hacker of your calibre ought to floating in a Silicon Valley hot tub, sipping champers and counting his IPO cashola.

[A barrage of machine gun fire erupts further down the range. Yves, in a very Lara Croft outfit, holds a submachine gun in each hand]

Langly: Aye Chihuahua! Who's that?

Kimmy the Geek: Fellow hacker. Name's Yves Harlow. [They walk down the range to meet Yves]

Langly: I liked you better with the beard. Where's our chip?

Yves: Chip? What chip?

Langly: That Octium IV is rightfully ours, give it the hell back.

Kimmy the Geek: You've got an Octium IV?

Yves: And what did you three stooges plan to do with the chip? Give it to 60 Minutes? Expose the truth in your silly little rag?

Langly: The American people have a right to know.

Yves: If you pimply pencil-necks are the only hope for the American people, god help us all.

Kimmy the Geek: Come on, Langly. Let's go do some real hacking.

Byers: Find anything?

Frohike: Yeah... A new meaning for the term compact car. Boy, talk about a needle in a haystack... If there is any evidence in this, hunk of junk, we're gonna be hard pressed to find it.

Byers: We'll find it.

Frohike: Heh, and then what? Then you'll be happy?

Byers: I'm not sure I understand the question.

Frohike: What's the best thing that can come out of this investigation, as far you're concerned? You find out that your father was going to blow the whistle on the government, you find out... they killed him for it.

Byers: What's your point?

Frohike: Oh, come on, Byers. We both know that your father didn't see eye-to-eye. You're hoping you'll find out he was someone you could respect. But what if he wasn't?

Byers: My father used to talk about JFK when I was a kid. Camelot, government as good as its people, an American Dream. I don't know when or why he stopped believing in it, but those stories made me who I am. They made me believe in the promise of our country.

Frohike: Truth, justice... the American way.

Byers: Someone has to expose those who would destroy that dream. Someone has to write the stories they don't want you to read. That's why I teamed up with you guys; you're true believers.

Frohike: And I thought it was for the chick throw off. Look, all I'm saying, is I don't want you setting yourself up for a disappointment. I'm saying; make peace with your father, in another way. [He removes a computer board about the size of a playing card from the cubed remains of the car]

Byers: What is it?

Frohike: Needle in a haystack.

Kimmy the Geek: We're in. Piece of cake; my old granny could hack this site. Okay, where to next?

Langly: Oh, ah... Products and Logistics... No, no, no, wait, wait, wait... Program Analysis and Evaluation. We're looking for any reference to something called Scenario 12D. [Byers and Frohike enter the room]

Byers: We got it!

Frohike: The proverbial smoking gun. Hey Kimmy, swarmy.

Langly: He's helping me hack into the DoD mainframe.

Kimmy the Geek: Yeah, I only said yes to keep Blondie from getting his nads clipped.

Langly: We ran into Yves Adele Harlow at the shooting range. I didn't want to cause a scene, you know, your old man and all. So what have you got?

Byers: We found this in the engine compartment of my father's car. You'll notice that none of the circuits have factory identifier numbers...

Langly: And this copper zigzag looks like, uh, an integrated antenna.

Byers: Etched into the breadboard like a cell phone. We're thinking...

Frohike: If this received radio signals, and was clipped to the car engine's control module...

Byers: The speed of the car could be remotely controlled.

Frohike: All you'd need is a handheld radio controller to operate the car.

Langly: And make it look like a dead man was driving.

Frohike: Mm-hmm...

Kimmy the Geek: Yes! I am the king! Numero uno, baby. Mm-mmm...

Byers: Find something?

Kimmy the Geek: Yeah, I wound up some government think tank's upload directory; user scenarios, ladies.

Byers: These look like, counter-terrorism scenarios; war games, developed for the Defence Department.

Frohike: What's Scenario 12D? [Kimmy the Geek opens a file information window that reads; scenario_12D.txt, Domestic Airline In-Flight Terrorist Act]

Langly: Airline terrorism? That doesn't make sense. Your father was murdered over a war game?

Byers: Download it.

Kimmy the Geek: Uh-oh. Ixnay on the ownload-day.

Byers: What is it?

Kimmy the Geek: Bogie. We've been spotted.

ND Man: Sir, we've got an intruder. I'm tracing.

Kimmy the Geek: They're running some real-time intrusion detection; Somebody knows we're in. We should ditch.

Byers: Keep downloading.

Langly: These guys are murderers, Byers. Give it some thought, man.

ND Man: I've isolated their bitstream, DSL... DC metro trunk.

Langly: They've compromised our code key!

Byers: Stay with it...

Kimmy the Geek: They're scanning our services!

Byers: We're almost there, keep going.

ND Man: I'm on board, scanning for vitals...

Kimmy the Geek: I'm bailing; they're scanning our file system!

Byers: We need that file.

ND Man: Here we go; address data file.

Kimmy the Geek: Oh my god... they found a data file. They're going to get our address!

Langly: They'll be busting through our door!

Byers: Keep downloading... [The display goes black, Frohike has unplugged it] Frohike, we almost had it.

Frohike: We almost had our asses fried.

Byers: My father died for that file...

Frohike: Exactly. Use your head.

ND Man: Lost 'em. Sorry sir.

Raymond Helm: I know who they are.

Langly: What do you say we call it a night, Byers?

Frohike: Ah, it's too late for that; sun just came up. Come on, Byers; I'll buy you a Grand Slam.

Byers: It just doesn't make sense.

Langly: What doesn't make sense?

Byers: The blood in my father's house.

Frohike: Buddy, we've been through this. They shot him.

Byers: Why? Why go to the trouble of, faking a car accident so perfectly, so convincingly, when you're starting with a body that's, got a bullet hole in it.

Langly: Maybe Dad put up a fight.

Byers: Maybe it wasn't his blood.

Raymond Helm: You've found something...

Frohike: Proof.

Raymond Helm: Of what?

Byers: My father wasn't murdered.

Langly: But not for lack of trying.

Raymond Helm: I don't understand, are you saying it was an accident?

Byers: We're saying he's not dead. It starts with a blood stain we found in my father's house. We've had it tested, the blood wasn't his.

Raymond Helm: Whose was it?

Byers: His would-be assassin, a professional, sent to make his death look like an accident. The carpet in the living room had been freshly shampooed. We assumed it was to get rid of the blood evidence.

Langly: It was. The second time.

Raymond Helm: He shot himself? Some professional.

Langly: Hey, government contractor.

Byers: In the aftermath, Dad realised he was in danger. I imagine his first impulse was to run. But then he started to piece together... the larger plan. He found the remote control that the assassin had attached to his car. Someone was going to great lengths to fake his death in a car accident. To murder him without arousing suspicion. So he came up with his own plan. Dad knew whoever would go to such lengths would only stop if he were dead. So he made it look like he was.

Raymond Helm: But what reason did they have to kill your father? What were they trying to hide?

Byers: Something called Scenario 12D.

Raymond Helm: We have to find Bert. He can tell us everything we need to know.

Langly: We don't know where he is. We got to find out what Scenario 12D is.

Frohike: That's why we need your help, as a government muckity-muck.

Langly: We need your password to get past online security. What is it?

Raymond Helm: Overlord.

Langly: Cool.

Raymond Helm: Whatever I can do to help.

Byers: Good. I'll catch up with you later. [He heads back to the van]

Langly: Why's he so bummed? His dad's alive.

Frohike: Yeah, but he may never see him again.

[Byers enters his father's living room and notices a pile of Lone Gunmen newspapers on a bookshelf]

Bertram Byers: John...

Byers: Dad...

Bertram Byers: What the hell are you doing? Why can't you stay out of this? Leave me buried?

Byers: What is Scenario 12D? We know, it's a war game scenario, that it has to do with airline counter-terrorism. Why is it important enough to kill for?

Bertram Byers: Because it's no longer a game.

Byers: But if, some terrorist group wants to, act out this scenario, why target you for assassination?

Bertram Byers: Depends on who your terrorists are.

Byers: The men who conceived of it in the first place. You're saying our government plans to commit a terrorist act against a domestic air...

Bertram Byers: There you go, indicting the entire government as usual. It's a faction, a small faction...

Byers: For what possible gain?

Bertram Byers: The Cold War's over, John. But with no clear enemy to stockpile against, the arms market's flat. But bring down a fully-loaded 727 into the middle of New York City; you'll find a dozen tin-pot dictators all over the world, just clamouring to take responsibility. And begging to be smart bombed.

Byers: I can't believe it; this is about increasing arms sales?

Bertram Byers: Mm-hmm.

Byers: When?

Bertram Byers: Tonight.

Byers: How are you going to stop them? Why didn't you tell the world this? Go to the press?

Bertram Byers: You think I'd still be drawing breath 30 minutes after I made that call? The press? Who's going to run this story?

Byers: We would.

Bertram Byers: This? [He picks up one of the newspapers] This is birdcage liner. Wild-eyed crap right up there with, Elvis is an alien and two-headed babies.

Byers: You obviously read it.

Bertram Byers: Don't be so damn naive. You think this is going to save the world? I'm doing what I can, John. I don't have all the specifics on Scenario 12D. But I think I know the flight they've chosen. You stay out of it. I don't want Overlord gunning for you too.

Raymond Helm: Feeling better?

Langly: We're on the job here Byers, I think we're making some real headway.

Frohike: Hey buddy, you okay?

Byers: I just saw my father.

Raymond Helm: Where?

Byers: At his house. Here's there now.

Frohike: What did he say?

Byers: After he hit me? He told me to stay away from him, not to get involved.

Raymond Helm: I got to get over there.

Byers: Mister Helm... Be careful, he doesn't trust you either; he thinks you were somehow involved in the attempt on his life. [Raymond Helm leaves]

Frohike: What the hell are you doing?

Langly: What if Helms is involved, what if he's using us to get to your father?

Frohike: You might have ratted out on your dad.

Byers: That was their plan. Put the son in danger, and you flush the father out of hiding. We had a couple of portable hydrocarbon sniffers; where are they?

Frohike: What? Byers?

Byers: Somebody get that. [Frohike checks the security camera monitor, Bertram Byers is waiting at the door] Let him in before somebody sees him.

Frohike: Hiya. [He lets Bertram Byers in]

Langly: Congrats on not being dead.

Bertram Byers: Oh, the day is young.

Frohike: Byers, you want to clue us in?

Byers: We got a plane to catch.

Byers: See anyone you recognise?

Bertram Byers: No, but that doesn't mean they're not around.

Byers: Okay. Let's board, check the cabin for free hydrocarbons, try to pinpoint that bomb.

Bertram Byers: This is your plan? I still think we should call in a bomb threat, let the FBI deal with this...

Byers: You said yourself, we don't know the full extent of this conspiracy, we can't trust any government official. Our only hope is to get on that plane.

ND Man: They're boarding.

Raymond Helm: [on mobile] Then that's two problems solved.

Byers: Find anything?

Bertram Byers: The luggage hold's clear, if this thing can be trusted. What did you do, make it with your Erector Set?

Byers: You're absolute sure that this is the targeted flight?

Bertram Byers: This flight was chosen primarily for its visibility. It's scheduled to pass over Manhattan on its way to Boston.

Byers: You said they, intend to bring this down in the middle of New York City? What if there isn't a bomb?

Bertram Byers: Well, how are they going to bring it down?

Byers: Same way a dead man can drive a car.

Frohike and Langly: What do you mean no bomb?

Byers: [on phone] Langly, I need you to hack into the aircraft's onboard navigation system. We need to know where we're headed.

Frohike: Okay, going to headsets. I'll clone the airphone's carrier, make them think we're sending a ground-to-air fax.

Langly: That's one twisted star-69.

Frohike: Ah, just get ready to ride the wave, hippie-boy.

Langly: Just get me on that plane and I'll get you auto-pilot access.

Frohike: How you going to do that?

Langly: Airline telemetry systems use processors similar to those found in CB radios.

Frohike: I'm in. We got ourselves a conway.

Byers: What's your progress?

Langly: [on phone] I've hacked into the flight control system output.

Frohike: [on phone] With a little bit of help.

Langly: [on phone] It's what the brains of the plane is telling the little black box.

Frohike: [on phone] Course, heading, altitude, hold, yaw, axis stabilisation, wha... What the heck's that?

Langly: [on phone] Is that what it looks like?

Frohike: [on phone] I think it is what it looks like.

Byers: What does what look like?

Langly: [on phone] Modem protocols. Remote access; somebody on the ground's flying your plane.

ND Man: Bogie sir.

Raymond Helm: Keep your course.

Byers: I need to know our flight plan.

Frohike: [on phone] I'm mapping the data now.

Langly: [on phone] Byers... Your flight's going to make an unscheduled stop. In exactly 22 minutes.

Frohike: [on phone] The corner of Liberty and Washington. Lower Manhattan.

Byers: World Trade Centre. [to Bertram Byers] They're going to crash the plane into the World Trade Centre.

Bertram Byers: I'll tell the flight crew.

Byers: Langly... can you override the flight control system?

Langly: [on phone] Working on it...

Pilot: What is this?

Bertram Byers: My name is Bert Byers; I work for the government. I believe this plane has been commandeered.

Pilot: Sir; passengers are not allowed in the cockpit, I need you to return to your seat now.

Bertram Byers: You don't have control of this plane and I don't know if we can get it back. Turn off your auto-pilot; there may be a chance that we can override it.

Pilot: Sir, I'll be happy to contact your superiors in the government if you... [Bertram Byers lunges forward and flips off the auto-pilot switch] Sir... damn it!

Co-Pilot: He's right...

Langly: [on phone] Damn it! Frozen again! Ah, they've encrypted the manual override commands.

Frohike: [on phone] Well decrypt them.

Langly: [on phone] I don't have enough power... my CPU's are pegged.

Byers: Langly, what's happening?

Langly: [on phone] I'll try decrypting in background mode.

Byers: How long will that take?

Langly: [on phone] In my calcs per sec, I estimate... seven to ten days.

Byers: Oh... Needless to say...

Langly: [on phone] Our asses are fried. [Frohike removes his headset] Where you going?

Frohike: To unfry us. [He leaves]

Langly: Damn it...

Frohike: We need that chip, Yves.

Yves: Melvin, I knew you'd come begging sooner or later.

Frohike: Lay off the Melvin crap, I need some serious gigaflops and I need them now.

Yves: Well I hear some guy with a beard took that chip.

Frohike: Those were a woman's lips I kissed.

Yves: Like you ever kissed a girl before.

Frohike: I don't have time for this...

Yves: You going to take it away from me?

Frohike: Give us the chip, Yves, or you'll be sacrificing the lives of hundreds of people, including Byers and his father.

Yves: I'm crying.

Frohike: Yeah, you're one real tough cookie. How much are you going to enjoy spending the millions you make selling that chip, when you realise it's been paid for in blood?

Yves: I guess you don't know me.

Frohike: Or maybe I do, Lee Harvey Oswald. Your name, Yves Adele Harlow, is an anagram of Lee Harvey Oswald. Some joke. I know who you really are, sugar. And I can tell the world in my... silly little rag.

Pilot: All right, try cutting electrical power.

Bertram Byers: They've thought of that. They've thought of everything.

Pilot: [over microphone] Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We're experiencing some... some technical difficulties up here. At this time we'd like you all to return to your seats.

Bertram Byers: And kiss your asses goodbye.

Byers: Langly, we're getting close.

Langly: [on phone] I know, I know... Damn it!

Bertram Byers: Your friends have failed, haven't they?

Byers: There's still hope.

Bertram Byers: Hope my next funeral's as nice as my last one.

Byers: If we can't get to the FBI, we'll go public, with your testimony we can break this conspiracy wide open. Bring Overlord down. The whole operation. Dad... what is it...

Bertram Byers: God, I see myself in you. The same youthful enthusiasm, idealism. I was so angry at you for so long, because I didn't want you to waste your life tilting at windmills. But I, see now that, you've got something I never had. You're a brave man, John.

Byers: You're not going to testify. You're going to let them cover this up.

Bertram Byers: They almost killed me twice; they won't fail a third time. My silence will keep me alive. And you. I know, you and your friends are... fighting for the American Dream. Just don't expect to win.

[The Lone Gunman headline: Terrorist Act Narrowly Averted]

Langly: So, we're going with this then?

Byers: Can't do it, we don't have the proof.

Langly: Then we don't have a lead story for this week's issue.

Frohike: Yeah, we do. [He deletes the headline, writing: Octium IV Chip Invades Privacy]

Byers: Well we certainly don't have proof for that.

Langly: Your pistol packing bearded lady has it, remember?

Frohike: Yeah? Well, turnabout's fair play. [He holds up the Octium IV processor chip]

Langly: How the hell did you get that?

Frohike: Hey... once you've had a little taste of Frohike... Okay. I grabbed it, I ran.

Byers: Know what? We've got a story to write.