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.. Scénář - 52. + 53. epizoda - Ostrov pokladů (Mountie on the Bounty) ..


Fraser: All right. The way I assess it is, we could stand our ground and wait for backup, or we could give up. Now, if we stand our ground, they'll likely shoot us. If we give up, well, they'll likely shoot us anyway. What else could they do?

Ray: Well, they could surrender but I wouldn't count on that.

Fraser: You know something? We could jump.

Ray: Like hell we could.

Fraser: No, no. Would you make a jump like that if you didn't have to?

Ray: Look, I have to and I'm not gonna.

Fraser: All right, I'll go first.

Ray: No.

Fraser: All right, you go first.

Ray: No means no!

Fraser: What is wrong with you?

Ray: I can't swim.

Fraser: The quality of the water alone will probably kill us.

Ray: Look, does this conversation seem strangely familiar to you?

Fraser: Oddly, yes. All right. On the count of three.

Ray: One.

Fraser: Two.

Together: Three.

[arrests being made]

Dewey [to Huey]: Heave. Not heat. Frost heave. Why would I say frost heat? What the hell could frost heat mean? Frost doesn't have heat, right?

[Ray and Fraser climb out of the water]

Ray: If we had waited two seconds, they would have been here.

Fraser: What if they hadn't come?

Ray: You're a maniac, Fraser.


Dewey: Heave is like when you throw up, you know. The frost sort of throws up the ground. That's why your foundation has been moving. That's why you got a basement full of water.

[Ray and Fraser]

Fraser: You are overreacting.

Ray: I'm not overreacting.


Huey: No I got a basement full of water because the sewer backed up.

Dewey: Water. You have water. You have a problem now.

Welsh: Dewey, you seen Vecchio?

Dewey: Yeah, they've been going at it for a while down there.

Welsh: What's the problem? It's a good collar. They did good.

Dewey: Differences.

Welsh: Differences, huh?

[Ray and Fraser]

Fraser: What do you propose we do, Ray? We are officers of the law.

Ray: I know that. We're cops. I don't have a cape, you don't have a cape.

Fraser: No, but I do have a uniform. You carry a badge. And my Sam Browne is sort of a -

Ray: Look, why are you arguing with me?

Fraser: I am not arguing with you!

Ray: Yes you are! That's that thing again. You're correcting. You're niggling. You're doing that thing with the T's and the I's, and I say 'A' and you say 'B'. I say 'night' and you say 'day'.

Fraser: I think you should be reasonable. I don't do it all the time.

Ray: Look! You just did it again!

Fraser: I -

Ray: You just did it again! It's like some kind of disease.

Fraser: It's not a disease.

Ray: Look, I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear it! I don't understand, I don't want to hear it!

Fraser: Ray, would you just listen to me?!

Ray: Look - I swear - I swear to God I will punch you right in the face. Fair warning.

Fraser: Well what does that mean, you're going to punch me?!

Ray: Just look, I'm going to punch you in the face! Why don't you listen to me?!

Fraser: Just think calmly -

[squad room]

Francesca [on phone]: Okay, so, orange baseball cap, orange slacks, orange shirt, carrying a pizza. . . Is there a light on the car outside with flashing lights marked 'Pizza' by any chance?

Welsh: Vecchio, you want to come in here for a minute?

Francesca [on phone]: Okay, and one more question. Did you order a pizza?

[Fraser's office]

Thatcher: Fraser, I have something here that I'd like to discuss with you that. . . Constable, I understand that you live here, but during the day - !

Fraser: Yes, sir, it's just that, you see, well, Detective Vecchio and I were in pursuit of three individuals who were from the FBI's most wanted list -

Thatcher: Just - just stay in uniform, Fraser.

Fraser: Yes, sir.

Thatcher: I have something for you.

[Welsh's office]

Welsh: This came in today.

Ray: Transfer?

[Fraser's office]

Thatcher: To Ottawa.

[Welsh's office]

Ray: So I can get my own life back? My own name?

Welsh: Frankly, I'd choose something a little more interesting if I were you, but if that's what you want, go ahead.

[Fraser's office]

Thatcher: Well, you're not going to take it, are you?

Fraser: Well, I haven't -

Thatcher: Because over the years we've developed a relationship. Working, of course, working relationship, and you might be hard to replace. Cost-wise. I mean, not everybody would live here in his underwear - uh, work - live in a place where he works.

[lake shore]

Ray: This is where it started, so this is where we'll end it.

Fraser: All right. I was over there. . . I can't do this, Ray.

Ray: Look, you have to.

Fraser: This is for good?

Ray: You put in your transfer, I'll put in mine. It's quits.

Fraser: You're sure about this?

Ray: Do it. . . There. . . Done. . . Pleasure working with you. . . Come on, I'll give you a lift.

[in car]

Ray: This is 1-1-7. We've got a 10-52 at South Speedway. We need immediate assistance.

Man: Treasure. . . chest.

Fraser: He's dead.

Ray: All right. Okay. One more case, then we're done.


Mort: Treasure chest, maybe.

Ray: Looks like the head of a dog.

Mort: Very good work. It looks like it was carved into the skin.

Fraser: With his hook maybe. . .

Mort: Captain Hook?. . . It would seem to be a map.

Fraser: Could be. . .

Ray: Of course it's a map. He's a pirate.

[squad room]

Ray: Frannie, can you run some prints for me, check 'em against any known pirates?

Francesca: Pirates? What do you mean? Like, pieces of eight and sliver me timbers?

Ray: It's shiver me timbers.

Francesca: It's sliver.

Ray: Frannie!

Francesca: Ray, what can that mean, shiver me timbers? That doesn't mean anything.

Ray: Sure it does. It means, like, shake your booty, something like that. . .

Francesca: Ray, pirates. They slide down masts. Wooden masts. Sliver, you get it? Sliver in their timbers?. . . Shiver!

Ray: I never got that.

Fraser: You know, Ray, we do not know that he's a pirate. For all we know, he might be an accident-prone accountant.

Ray: You ever try to run a calculator with a hook?

Fraser: No, but appearances can be deceiving. You know, I once knew a trapper in Great Slave Lake who ran his trap lines dressed in a three-piece suit. He looked like a banker. Of course, he carried his bait in his pocket, so the smell, it was - well, that's a different story.

Ray: Fraser, a guy dies. He's got a hook and he's got an eye patch. He says 'treasure'. He says 'chest'. What do you think he is?

Fraser: Ray, if there are any pirates on the Great Lakes, which I sincerely doubt, I think it's highly unlikely that they would go about dressed like some character invented by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Ray: Stevenson!

Francesca: Hey Ray, I got an I.D. His name's Billy Butler. He worked the lake boats most of his life. He's got three convictions for drug smuggling and one for assault.

Ray: Accountant?

Fraser: Pirate.

Ray: Thank you.


Voices: Who are those guys?. . . Never seen 'em in here. . .

Ray: Recognize this guy?

Bartender: Yeah. Used to live in that chair. Moved out about a year ago. Haven't seen him since.

Ray: You seen this guy?

Man at bar: Nah.

Ray: Anybody here seen Butler?. . . You know this guy?. . . You seen him before?. . . How about you?

Man 1: Is that a wolf?

Fraser: Ah, yes, as a matter of fact, it is.

Man 2: A wolf in a bar's bad luck.

Man 3: No, man, that's a woman on a ship.

Man 2: That too.

Man 3: That's whistling on a ship, you idiot.

Man 1: Wolves, there's gotta be something about wolves.

Fraser: Well, I know there are a number of nautical superstitions, but I can't think of any offhand that actually feature wolves.

Man 1: You can't be too careful these days.

Fraser: And why is that, sir?

Man 1: There's bad things stirrin' the waters. A ghost ship, with a crew long dead, flying the colors of the Mackenzie.

Man 2: Come on, you old bastard. You've had too much to drink.

Ray: You seen this guy?. . . You seen him? Butler?. . . [to Fraser] Goat ship?

Fraser: Ghost ship. It seems to have scared them all off.

Bartender: Hey, he left some stuff down in the cellar if you want to go through it.

Ray: What are you doing?

Fraser: Well, my Uncle Tiberius owned a very similar trunk in which he had hidden pictures of some naked - aha.

Ray: Gold. . .


Ray: I told you. Pirates.

Fraser: Possibly.

Ray: What do you mean, possibly? The guy said 'treasure', the guy said 'chest'. You know? We found the chest and this is the treasure.

Fraser: One bar?

Ray: Well, where there's one, there's a pile, you know. That's the way treasure works.


Lew: What are you doing? You could get somebody -

Fraser: Sorry, sir. Terribly sorry.

Ray: Who the hell are you? Why are you following us?

Lew: The name's Lew.

Fraser: Blind Lew, by any chance?

Lew: That's right. I got information about Billy, if you're wanting it.

Ray: What do you got?

Lew: Ahh. 70 bucks.

Ray: 70 bucks?

Lew: Hey, get an old blind man a decent meal.

Ray: Where you going to get it, Europe? 20 bucks.

Lew: 50. It's deductible.

Ray: Look, this better be good.

Lew: It is.

Ray: What is it?

Fraser: It's an editorial about crab grass. . .

Lew: Wait, wait.

Fraser: This is more like it. According to this, Billy Butler was drowned at sea over a year ago.

[squad room - Francesca's desk]

Francesca: Okay. Whaling Yankee. Yankee, as in Yankee Doodle Dandy?

Fraser: That's correct.

Francesca: And Whaling, as in sperm?

Fraser: Sperm?

Ray: No, Francesca, that's wailing as in wailing on a guy's head.

Francesca: Okay.

Ray: Look, I don't believe this. A guy on the wharf has better information than we do.

Francesca: Says who?

Ray: Says this. Billy Butler sank on the Wailing Yankee a year ago.

Fraser: 'Here lies the body of John Brown, who was lost at sea and never found.'

Ray: Francesca, ask Fraser what that's supposed to mean.

Francesca: It's supposed to mean that your guy drowned, and then what? He swam, crawled, stabbed himself so that he could hang out with Mort?

Ray: Okay, so we got a bit of a mystery.

Fraser: Indeed we do.

Francesca: Hey, I got it.

Fraser: That's excellent, Francesca.

Francesca: Thank you, Fraser.

Fraser: Wailing Yankee. Went down a little more than a year ago. All hands lost.

Ray: And now I found one of 'em.

Francesca: Hey, there's the crew.

Ray: There's my friend Billy. Wait a minute, wait a minute. I just found two of 'em. This guy - I saw this guy the night of the murder.

Fraser: We both saw him, Francesca.

Ray: Make it bigger, will you, Frannie?

Francesca: Okay. . . woops.

Ray: Come on, Frannie, no woops. Don't blow it here.

Francesca: Okay, okay, just relax. . . see?

Ray: Yeah, learn fast. Fraser's not going to be around to help much longer. . . Andy Calhoon. Print that out, will you, Frannie?

Francesca: You're leaving, Frase?

Fraser: Well, I've been offered a transfer to Ottawa.

Francesca: Oh. That's great, that's just - that's great.

Fraser: Is something wrong?

Francesca: No. I've, um, just got something in my eye.

Fraser: Well, if you pull your lower eyelid out and fold it over your -

Francesca: I'll be okay.

Ray: Let's go. This guy's the killer.

Fraser: How do we know he's the killer?

Ray: Two supposed dead guys show up in more or less the same place and one of 'em gets a knife in the back and you think somebody else did it?

Fraser: Well it could have been a deranged accountant.

Ray: That is so stupid. A deranged accountant? That's like saying a raging librarian. . . Francesca, can you, uh, run Calhoon for me and see all you can get on the Wailing Yankee?

Francesca: Yeah.

Fraser: Francesca? Could you. . .? [to Ray] The other evidence. . .

Ray: I was going to hold onto that.

Fraser: Ray, it's evidence.

Fraser: Francesca, are your eyes all right?

Francesca: Perfect.

Fraser: Good. I wonder if you wouldn't mind checking this serial number for us?

Francesca: Gold. This could have been made into hundreds of wedding bands.

Fraser: Dief, we have to step out for a couple of minutes. Could you do me a favor and just keep an eye on Francesca?. . . [Dief jumps for joy] . . . Hurts my feelings.


Ray: Anyone seen this guy?. . . See him?. . . How about you?. . . You know this guy?. . . Anyone?

Fraser: Gentlemen, good day.

Man 1: What kind of outfit is that?

Fraser: My name is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Man 2: Oh, yeah? What brings you here?

Fraser: Well, I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father.

Man 3: Then what? You just stayed?

Fraser: As a matter of fact, I did, yes, attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate.

Man 2: Interesting.

Fraser: Thank you. Thank you kindly. I wonder if I could trouble you gentlemen to tell me about the ghost ship?

Men: No. . . Don't pay to talk about ghosts. . . Those that do are bound to see them. . . And those that see them are doomed to sleep on the bottom of the ocean.

Ray: Wow, that Canadian charm is working overtime today, Fraser.

Fraser: These men are afraid, Ray.

Ray: Yeah, nobody saw anything.

Fraser: Perhaps he did.

Ray: Is that a joke, Fraser? 'Cause that's not funny. That's not at all sensitive or Mountie-like. That's completely rude.

Fraser: Can I borrow your gun?

Ray: What for?

Fraser: You'll see. . . Excuse me, sir.

Lew: Whoa! Oh! Oh!

Ray: He's not blind.

Fraser: No, he is not.

Ray: How'd you know that?

Fraser: The involuntary movement of the pupils. It's a dead giveaway.

Lew: I was born blind. My eyesight's slowly getting better.

Ray: Yeah, right, pal. Know this guy?

Lew: Never laid eyes on him.

Ray: Well that's too bad, 'cause if you helped us out I wouldn't have to arrest you for impersonating a blind guy - Hey! Drop the act!

Lew: I seen him around the Albatross.

Fraser: Do you recall anything he happened to say?

Lew: He talked about the Mackenzie. Said he'd seen the ghost ship prowling around the waters near Six Fathom Shoal. It's not something you want to hear. Didn't go by the name of Calhoon, by the way. Called himself Vic Hester. Okay?

Fraser: Thank you.

Lew: Okay? Can I go?


Ray: Yeah?

Francesca: Hey, Ray, it's me. You know that guy Andy you're looking for?

Ray: Yeah.

Francesca: He's got a longer rap sheet than your guy Billy.

Ray: Yeah, Frannie, what?

Francesca: Attempted murder, assault, nasty stuff.

Ray: Okay, thanks, Frannie.

Francesca: Yeah. Oh, and hey! I checked out some of the other guys on the Wailing Yankee. Everybody on it has a long sheet.

Ray: That's queer. Who owns it?

Francesca: I found out his name is Gilbert Wallace. He's the president of Illinois Lake Freight.

[Illinois Lake Freight]

Ray: What do you mean it was not unusual? That was like the Con Air of boats.

Wallace: Look, we hire sailors. We don't kill ourselves checking their morals.

Fraser: Well, sir, of the 30 crew members you had, 29 of them had serious criminal records.

Ray: And the other one we haven't tracked yet.

Fraser: It would seem to be a much higher proportion than could be accounted for by the law of averages.

Wallace: You go to the Union Hall, you get what you get.

Ray: What do you know about Vic Hester?

Wallace: As I said before, nothing. I knew none of these men. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I got work to do.

Fraser: We understand. Thank you kindly for your time.

Ray: Do not do that, Fraser!

Fraser: Do what?

Ray: Cut me off like that! I was going on my gut. When your partner's going on his gut, you got to go with the flow, you got to let it ride, you got to -

Fraser: Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray.

Ray: What?!

Fraser: The car's this way.

Ray: Right. . . Car's this way. . . I knew that.

Fraser: Wallace said he hired the crew from the Union Hall.

Ray: Yeah? So?

Fraser: Vic Hester may be looking for work.

Ray: Then we'd better go to the Union Hall.

Fraser: So we're still partners, then?

Ray: Look, the problem is we're stale. Like bread or something. You know, maybe it's time for a change.

Fraser: I imagine you'll be taking that transfer then.

Ray: And you'll take yours.

[Union Hall]

Woman: No. . . no. . . no. . . Aha. Henry Allen.

Ray: Henry Allen? Another alias.

Fraser: No, I think she's referring to a ship, Ray.

Woman: Yeah. Sailing from Sault Sainte Marie at 9 in the morning. Your guy's on it.

Fraser: Thank you kindly.


Fraser: Now if I had a sextant, Ray, I could locate the vehicle in a heartbeat.

Ray: Mr. Sextant, I told you exactly where the car was.

Fraser: Yes, you did, but we've been walking around in circles for the last five minutes. . . I think it's to the right.

Ray: To the right of what? That's not a description of where the car -

[attacked by several men]

Man: Don't go lookin' for the Mackenzie.

Ray: Come on!. . . [attackers run away] Look, Fraser, there's the car, right by the boat, right where I told you.

Fraser: I think we're on to something, Ray.

Ray: Oh, yeah, like getting killed. . . Look, I may be damaged, Fraser, but I'm not stupid. There's more to life than dying.

Fraser Sr.: Partnership is like a marriage, son. Give and take, up and down, who left the empty butter dish in the fridge. . . It isn't easy.

Fraser: No, it isn't.

Fraser Sr.: Buck Frobisher and I were a team, maybe the best team the North has ever known. One day we fell out and it all but destroyed us.

Fraser: What did you do?

Fraser Sr.: We swallowed our pride for the greater good. Someone's using a brave ship's name for an evil purpose, and you've got to stop them. You need the Yank. Swallow the pride, son.

Fraser: Ray -

Ray: Look, Fraser, I know what you're going to say. You give me a reason - you give me one reason why we should risk our skinny asses chasing the Robert Mackenzie. That is way out of our jurisdiction. We have no authorization. . . Okay?

Fraser: On November 1st, 1969, the Robert Mackenzie left a pier in Thunder Bay carrying 28,110 long tons of high-sulfur coal bound for the steel mills in Detroit. She was 810 feet long, 80 feet wide, crewed by 32 men and captained by Scottie Phillips. Now, no one on board could have known they were headed into a gale known as the Witch of November. By 2 a.m. on the 2nd, the seas were already running at 20 feet. The winds were gusting at 50 miles an hour. At 3:13, the Mackenzie radioed her sister ship, the Phoenix, to say she'd taken a wave over the wheelhouse, knocking out her radar. She was blind in the water, navigating by dead reckoning. . . Captain Phillips decided to head south to find shelter in Bet Grise Bay by way of Keweenaw Point. But by then the seas were running over 40 feet. Winds were blowing at 100 miles an hour. . . At 4:23 a wave broke, exposing a mountain of rock known as Six Fathom Shoal. . . Time stopped. . . The Mackenzie hit the shoal broadside, cutting her in half. The stern was still under full power and it rammed the bow, crushing men on metal as they were caught midship scrambling for life boats. It hit the bow three times before it finally drove it under. And then the stern continued into the night, all its lights blazing, fires burning from the ruptured boilers, like some kind of headless beast. Captain Phillips' last transmission to the Phoenix read, 32 down on the Robert Mackenzie.

Ray: . . . All right. . . Say we drive like hell, I mean, put the pedal to the metal. . . Can we get to Sault Sainte Marie and get on the Henry Anderson before she sails?

Fraser: Allen. Henry Allen. . . Yes.

Ray: Right, Allen. . . Come on.

[Henry Allen bridge]

Smithers: All ahead, one-third.

[Henry Allen captain's quarters]

Smithers: Good to see you, Benton boy.

Fraser: Yes, and you too, sir.

Smithers: Stirs up memories.

Ray: Wait a minute, Fraser. You know this guy?

Fraser: Yes. Captain Smithers is an old friend of my father's. As a matter of fact, he taught me how to tie my first knot. . . Oh, dear.

Smithers: Yeah, double clove and half hitch. Tie a knot in his tail to hold the devil down.

Ray: Does everybody in Canada know everybody?

Fraser: No.

Smithers: Old Bob Fraser. . .

Fraser Sr.: Old! Who's he calling old? I've been dead for years and I still look twice as good as he does!

Smithers: Yeah, we go back a long way, me and Bob. I saved his life in a bar fight once in. . .

Fraser Sr.: Skagway.

Smithers: Skagway - How did you know that? Oh yeah, your father told you - In '59.

Fraser Sr.: That's a crock!

Smithers: Bart Anderson got liquored up and came after him with a harpoon.

Fraser Sr.: It was a small pocket knife.

Smithers: Luckily, I got between him and your dad.

Fraser Sr.: He sure did. He was as goggle-eyed as old Bart. I had to throw them in the brig to sleep it off.

Smithers: Those were the days.

Ray: I hate to interrupt memories, but we think you might have a killer on board.

Smithers: In my crew?

Fraser: In your crew, sir.

Smithers: Well, son, you show me the maggot and I'll take him apart like that Moor in the Dardanelles! By God, I'll throw him in the brig!

Ray: You got a brig?

Smithers: Well. . . no.

Fraser Sr.: There! You see? He wouldn't be able to tell the truth if his life depended on it!

Smithers: It's cold in here.

Fraser: Sir, we don't think there's any pressing need to disassemble this man. At the moment, he's just a suspect. We would like to observe him, unobtrusively.

Smithers: Unobtrusively.

Fraser: Yes, sir.

Smithers: How are you going to do that?

[Henry Allen hold]

Fraser: Now that we're out here, we're away from the city, doing good honest work - there's nothing like it, is there?

Ray: Hell, maybe.

Hester: Bad luck bringin' strange crew on board.

Larry: Specially on the North Shore route.

Man: Why's that?

Hester: We're passing by the graveyard they call Six Fathom Shoal.

Ray: Is there anything on this ship that isn't bad luck?

Hester: Eddie Walters saw her last week. He was on the Bailey Madison.

Larry: The Robert Mackenzie cut across her bow. Dead men on the deck, crying out for help.

Hester: I saw it once myself. She come up on us in the night. Nothing on radar, and then, there she was. I don't want to see her again. I say we get the Captain to take the south route.

Man: Yeah, I'd like to see you tell old Iron Bottom where to sail his ship. He'll have your guts for garters in a second.

Larry: Well he's got no call crossing us with no ghost ship.

Hester: I don't want to see the face of a dead man staring back at me in the middle of the night.

Larry: Jeez, I hate ghosts.

[squad room]

Welsh: Maybe they got involved in a case and forgot to report in.

Thatcher: Constable Fraser failed to fill out his daily 10989B report.

Welsh: He failed to fill out a report? Vecchio hasn't done one for three months. It's not cause for general panic.

Turnbull: While there is breath in his body, Constable Fraser would never neglect to do his paperwork. Never. No real Mountie would.

Thatcher: Thank you, Constable.

Welsh: All right, Inspector. What do you suggest we do?

Thatcher: I think we should mount a coordinated search effort. I am offering you the entire resources of the Canadian Consulate.

Welsh: And those would be?

Thatcher: Constable Turnbull and myself. And the wolf.

[Henry Allen - crew's mess]

Hester: . . . cold night. Dark, as if the stars themselves had fled. She come out of the fog, draped in seaweed, foul stench rolling across the water. . .

Ray [to Fraser]: What is this?

Fraser: Food, Ray. Good hearty food. Just the thing after a long day's work.

Ray: Does it come with instructions?

Fraser: Open mouth. Put in.

Hester: . . . And when the moon broke through the clouds and shone her light on the faces of the dead, their eyes were the devil's own. Their faces were pale. . .

Ray [whispers]: Keep them occupied.

Fraser: Gentlemen, there's something I'd like to get off my chest. . .

Man: What's that?

[begins song]

[Henry Allen - crewman's cabin]

Ray: Oh, yeah. . . [sound at door] You know what's funny? This is not the room I was looking for. I was looking for the skull. . . the- the top. . . the front. . .

Larry: The head?

Ray: The head. You see, I been drinking, and I'm lost, so I just, I got all. . . It's a large boat- ship. . . And I'll just circumnavigate myself out this way, and the head will probably be. . . down. . . there.

[Henry Allen - crew's mess]

Ray [whispers]: His locker's full of electronic gizmos and transistors

Fraser [whispers]: Stay here. I'll inform the captain.

[squad room]

Francesca [on phone]: Oooh, that's great!. . . [to others] You, uh, okay! The gold robbery! The big gold robbery!

Thatcher: What gold robbery?

Francesca: The big one! The big one! You know! This is from there! Ray had this -

Welsh: Francesca!

Thatcher: Take a deep breath.

Welsh: All right, let it out slowly.

Turnbull: And think of the color yellow.

Welsh: What is it?

Francesca: Okay. Okay. Fraser and Ray found this in the stuff of the dead pirate.

Thatcher: Pirate?

Welsh: The guy with the hook, the eye patch. Billy Butler.

Francesca: Um-hmm. So I just called and they traced it. This was part of the big shipment that got stolen from the Chicago Federal Reserve Bank last year. That was huge.

Welsh: You're kidding.

Huey: That was a hundred million in gold bullion.

Welsh: Yeah, they were seasoned pros. They killed the six guards.

Thatcher: This is what Fraser and Ray are investigating?

Welsh: Apparently.

Turnbull: And not to get lost in the shuffle, we have an excellent lead. All we need to do is find the robbers, and we'll find Constable Fraser!

[Henry Allen - bridge]

Smithers: Ah, Constable Fraser. . . I thought you were under cover.

Fraser: Well, I was.

Smithers. Oh. . . Sorry about that.

Fraser: That's not really important any more. What is important is that I have reason to believe that someone has tampered with your radar.

Smithers: My radar? It looks all right.

Fraser: Nevertheless, I think. . .

Smithers: Huh?

Fraser: Can you manipulate this image?

Smithers: Sure.

Fraser: Can you make it seem further out?

Smithers: Yeah.

Fraser: Looks like the head of a dog. . .

Smithers: Yes, you're right. It does. It looks like a golden retriever. Could be a Labrador, or Doberman -

Fraser: It's also a motive for murder.

Smithers: What?

Fraser: It's also a motive for murder.

Helmsman: Ship! Ship in the water! Dead ahead!

Smithers: No sign of it on the radar screen -

Helmsman: She's a ghost! It's the Mackenzie! The Robert Mackenzie!

Smithers: No, stop blithering, you idiot!

[shouts from crew]

Fraser Sr.: See what I mean, son? There's something funny about this whole setup. Those are the worst looking ghosts I've ever seen.

Smithers: It doesn't look too good.

Fraser Sr.: What's wrong with them?

Fraser: Well, theoretically they're dead.

Fraser Sr.: Well I'm dead. There's nothing wrong with me. Look at them. The look pale. Look at me. I'm pink.

Fraser: They're draped in seaweed.

Smithers: Helmsman! Helmsman!

Fraser: Are you all right?

Fraser Sr.: Yeah, I'm fine.

Smithers: Helms- ! Lash down the wheel, Benton. I'll deal with the crew.

Fraser: Lash down the wheel?

Smithers: Use a running bowline.

Fraser: Running bowline, running bowline, running bowline. . .

Fraser Sr.: You know what this is, son. You know what this is.

Fraser: What is it?

Fraser Sr.: The rabbit comes out of the hole, runs around the tree, goes back in the hole and. . . No, no, no, wait, wait, wait. . . It's not a rabbit. It's a squirrel that goes up the tree. And it's a squirrel because the tail is longer, meaning the end of the rope. And it doesn't go back in the hole-

Fraser: Of course it doesn't go in the hole. It's a squirrel.

Fraser Sr.: Exactly.

Fraser: Well, what does the squirrel do?

Smithers: Off my bridge!

Hester: All you got to do is head south, stay out of Robert Mackenzie's territory

Smithers: She's my ship. I'll head her anywhere I damn well please, you mutinous, scab-sided, scum-sucking son of a poxy sea witch!

Larry: You shut up! You do what he says! We ain't crossing no ghost ship!

Smithers: I'll hang you from the nearest yardarm before I turn this ship!

Hester: You going to let him get us all killed?

Man: It wouldn't hurt to turn the ship. . .

[shouts of agreement]

Smithers: You get back to your station! Do what I tell you or I'll gut you like herring! I'll tear you apart like I disassembled that Moor in the Dardanelles!

Fraser: It's not a ghost ship.

Hester: Don't listen to him!

Fraser: It's the Wailing Yankee disguised to look like the Robert Mackenzie.

Larry: He's lying!

Fraser: And the crew are not ghosts. They're criminals.

Hester: How come she don't show up on the radar then, huh?

Fraser: Because you tampered with the radar. He also killed a man in Chicago, a man who was carrying a map that pinpointed a location roughly 30 miles east of here.

Hester: I never killed anybody!

Fraser: He killed that man to prevent him from revealing that location, a location so secret that they invented a phony ghost ship to scare people off.

Smithers: Are you going to side with this cowardly, murdering scum?

Fraser: Would you side with those who would destroy the reputations of the men who sailed with the Robert Mackenzie?

Man: How do we know you're telling the truth?

Smithers: Look at him. He's a Mountie. . .

Men: It's the hat. . . Yeah, yeah, he's a Mountie. . . Has to be. . . Yeah, he's a Mountie. . .

Smithers [to Fraser]: Now what?

Fraser: Stay your course.

Smithers: All right you miserable sons of. . .

Fraser: Tell me where my partner is.

Hester: Why should we tell you?

Fraser: Because it's the right thing to do.

Fraser Sr.: Now this is where you need the Yank, so he can threaten them with force, tell them he's going to kick 'em in the head or jump Bogart all over them or one of those other colorful expressions he's so fond of.

Fraser: I can do that.

Fraser Sr.: Oh, they would never believe you, son.

Fraser: They might.

Fraser Sr.: Well, give it a try. . .

Fraser: So I shall. . . [to Hester and Larry] Tell me where my partner is or I will kick you in the heads.

Larry: Really?

Fraser: . . . No. Not- not really.

Smithers: Ghost ship dead ahead, Benton!

Fraser: Stay your course! There's nothing they can do to you.

Smithers: Right. . .

[Wailing Yankee opens fire]

Fraser: Oh, dear.

Smithers: Abandon ship!. . . [to Fraser] By rights, I should be the last off.

Fraser: But I can't leave, sir.

Smithers: She's a big ship. You'll never find him.

Fraser: He's my partner. I have to try.

Smithers: Well, good luck, Benton.

Fraser: Thank you, sir.

Fraser Sr.: I'm glad to see the back of him. . . You could be in some trouble, son.

Fraser: You may be right.

[Henry Allen - below deck]

Fraser: Ray! Are you all right? I am going to have to remove your tape. It's probably easier if I do it fast. . . [Ray shakes his head no] You'd prefer that I do it slowly? [Ray nods his head yes. Fraser rips off the tape fast.]

Ray: Ahh!. . . God!. . . Okay, I'll kill them. Where are they?

Fraser: Well, they're in a life boat.

Ray: A life boat.

Fraser: Well, yes. The ship is sinking.

Ray: Yeah. Ship is sinking. Okay, the ship's sinking!

Fraser: Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Calm down. Calm down. We need your keys.

Ray: What keys?

Fraser: The keys to your handcuffs.

Ray: The keys to my handcuffs. . . Let me think. . . Left jacket pocket. No, those are the keys to my old car. . . Right jacket pocket. . . Apartment. Old apartment. Locker. Don't know. Don't know. . .

Fraser: Ray, you know, you really should try to keep your things a little more organized.

Ray: Look, Fraser, this is the wrong time for advice on neatness.

Fraser: It may be the wrong time for advice, Ray, but it's never the wrong time for neatness.

Ray: Those guys must have taken the key.

Fraser: It would seem likely.

Ray: So. You got another plan?

Fraser: You betcha I do. I'm going to pick the lock.

Ray: Pick the lock. That's good, Fraser. That's very good. . . Come on, come on.

Fraser: Here, I want you to put your head under this bucket.

Ray: Thanks, Fraser. . . I guess.

Fraser: Ray.

Ray: Fraser!

Fraser: Ray.

Ray: Fraser!

Fraser: Ray.

Ray: Fraser! Fraser! Fra-

Fraser: Ray, please. You have to stop yelling. The echo in here is just, well, it's very jarring.

Ray: Mmmm.

Fraser: Oh, sorry.

Ray: Get my gun.

Fraser: Oh. I imagine you would like me to shoot off your handcuffs.

Ray: Yeah, sometime this week would be nice, Fraser.

Fraser: Your gun is gone.

Ray: Not that gun. My boot gun, my boot gun.

Fraser: Boot gun, right. . . Ready?

Ray: Ready.

Fraser: All right.

Ray: See?! This is why we're gettin' stale, Fraser. Communication - we're not doing it.

Fraser: What are you talking about? I thought we communicated remarkably well considering you had a bucket over your head.

Ray: Yeah, well, it's gotta be like instinct, like breathing.

Fraser: Ray, that door, I'm not sure that -

Ray: What?!

Fraser: All right, Mr. Instinct!

Ray: Right.

[station corridor]

Welsh: This was a big heist, gentlemen, which means it was a big team. Let's pound the docks with pictures of this Wailing Yankee crew. If we shake everything down maybe we'll come up with a couple more dead guys.

Dewey: Sir, what if we shake out some gold while we're at it?

Huey: Yeah. There was. I mean, there was a lot of gold.

Welsh: If you find gold before you find Vecchio and Fraser, I'm going to load it in your pants and drop you into the lake. Keep your eyes on the prize, gentlemen. We got officers out there. They might need a lifeline.

[Henry Allen]

Ray: I paid 300 bucks - 300 bucks! - for this stupid thing, and it doesn't even work.

Fraser: Well, you know, generally speaking, water and electronics are not a good mix.

Ray: Generally speaking.

Fraser: Yeah. Oh, well. Look at that!

Ray: It's a fish.

Fraser: Yeah. It's an encouraging sign.

Ray: That's not a sign, Fraser, it's a fish.

Fraser: Well, it's a trout, to be exact, which is a sign that the water quality of the Great Lakes is actually returning.

Ray: Look, why are you arguing with me, Fraser? It's not a sign, it's a fish! That means the boat's sinking and we're dying!

Fraser: Well, yes, it's a sign of that also.

Ray: Fraser! I got a signal!

[squad room - Francesca's desk]

Francesca [phone]: Detective Division. . . It's them! It's them!

Welsh: Get 'em on the speaker!

Francesca: Where are you guys?

Ray [on phone]: . . . sink. . . somewhere. . .

Welsh: What sink? Kitchen sink perhaps?

Ray [on phone]: . . . sink. . . sink. . .

Thatcher: Where is your sink?

[Henry Allen]

Ray: We're sink-ing!

Fraser: Give them our coordinates, Ray. I think we're roughly 47 degrees latitude. . .

Ray: 47 degrees latitude. . .

Fraser: 85 degrees longitude. . .

Ray: 85 degrees longitude. . .

[squad room]

Ray [on phone]: 85. . . longi. . . got. . .

Welsh: Write that down.

Ray [on phone]: 47. . . 85. . .

Turnbull: Uh, 5-8-7-4. Got it.

Thatcher: 4-7-8-5. . . [to Welsh] Dyslexia.

Welsh: Ray!

[Henry Allen]

Ray: Captain?. . . Cap- ? [to Fraser] Battery's dead.

[squad room]

Thatcher: A license plate?

Welsh: Phone number? Part of a phone number?

Francesca: There's a 478 exchange in Chicago.

Welsh: Get a reverse directory. Get somebody on it right away. Dial every number with that prefix.

Thatcher: That's kind of a long shot.

Francesca: Yeah, there could be thousands of numbers. Who's going to take on a job as revolting and tedious as that?

[Henry Allen]

Fraser: You wouldn't happen to have a screwdriver, do you, Ray?

Ray: Not on me, Fraser.

Fraser: Oh. That's too bad.

Ray: Yeah, well, I left my garage in my other pants.

Fraser: All right. Mental note: Equipment myself with a portable waterproof all-purpose toolkit. . . Ray. Ray. Ray. . .

Ray: It's as dark as sin in here. . . Your matches still work?

Fraser: Yeah, they're waterproof. It's standard issue for every Mountie.

Ray: They don't last very long. Come on, light another one.

Fraser: I think we should save the others for an emergency.

Ray: And this is what? Recreational swimming?

Fraser: Well, Ray, you know, any situation can deteriorate . . . Ray!. . . Oh, dear.

Ray: What?

Fraser: We're trapped.


Dewey: Anything?. . . Next pier.

Huey: Hey, what if you ran into a pile of gold? What would you do with it?

Dewey: Well that's a snap. I'd get a storefront in a strip mall somewhere, open up a comedy club, call it the Ad-Lib or the One-Liner.

Huey: A strip mall?

Dewey: Yeah. I mean, it's not big time but at least you'd get a steady flow of business.

Huey: Yeah?

Dewey: Yeah.

Huey: Okay. Do one.

Dewey: What?

Huey: Do a one-liner.

Hooker: You boys looking for a date? Tommy! How's it going?

Dewey: Ah, pretty good. Hey, listen, you want to do me a favor? Just look at these photographs for us. Just take your time.

Huey: You know her?

Dewey: High school. She's grown up.

[Henry Allen]

Fraser: All right. We have to go this way.

Ray: Come on, Fraser, hang on a second. A hundred and fifty yards under water?

Fraser: Well, it's meters, actually.

Ray: Meters, yards, you think my lungs know the difference?

Fraser: It's our only option.

Ray: That's an option?

Fraser: Well, no.

Ray: No? What kind of logic is that?

Fraser: Well, it's logic of a kind.

Ray: How?

Fraser: Well, sort of like a strange loop. It's like Godel's Theorem.

Ray: Who's Godel? Godel? Who the hell is Godel?

Fraser: Godel was a German mathematician who founded this theorem that, loosely translated, means, everything I say is a lie.

Ray: So everything he said was a lie.

Fraser: Right. Except that what he just said was the truth.

Ray: So everything he said was a lie and the truth at the same time.

Fraser: Exactly, see, it loops back in onto itself.

Ray: A loop. I see. This I get, this is blood. I can go with this.

Fraser: Well, it's also a function of logic.

Ray: Logic! See? There you go again! You always got to take it one step further, right? One step over the line!

Fraser: Why are you yelling at me?

Ray: I am not yelling!

Fraser: You are yelling!

Ray: I'm not yelling!

Fraser: You are yelling. . . at. . . me!

Ray: I can't- I can't swim.

Fraser: Right. . . Right. Well, then, a quick lesson is probably what's called for right now. Okay, coat off. I want you to try to think about- think of yourself as a flower that opens by day and then it closes down at night. All right? So think, bloom, close, bloom, close.

Ray: All right. . . What do I do with my feet?

Fraser: Just kick. Kick as though you were interviewing suspects. You ready? Big breath.

Ray: What was that, Fraser?

Fraser: What was what?

Ray: That thing you were doing with your mouth.

Fraser: Oh, that. That's buddy breathing. You seemed to be in a bit of a, well, having a problem. I have excess lung capacity, so. . .

Ray: Buddy breathing.

Fraser: Standard procedure.

Ray: Good. . . Okay. . . All right. . . Nothing's, like, changed or anything, right?

Fraser: No.

Ray: Okay.

Fraser: Yeah.

Ray: Thanks.

Fraser: You're thanking me?

Ray: Look, don't get too excited, Fraser. The jury's still out on this partnership thing, okay?

Fraser: Oh, well, don't worry, Mr. Instinct, I'm not excited. . . Yikes.

[apartment building hallway]

Dewey: So what would you do if you came across a pile of gold?

Huey: Me?

Dewey: Yeah.

Huey: I'd get one of those drum machines, plug it in. They got the whole kit on them. You know, bass, snare, cymbals, and you can program patterns and stuff. You know, rhythm patterns.

Dewey: Really?

Huey: Oh, yeah, it's very cool.

Dewey: So, like a traveling DJ sort of?

Huey: Yeah, sort of.

Dewey: Cool. . . Take it real easy, buddy, that's it.

[Henry Allen]

Ray: Fire extinguishers?

Fraser: You bet, Ray. It should make an excellent propellant.

Ray: Fraser, you done this kind of thing before?

Fraser: Well no, not precisely. Although there was one occasion when I was underneath a drilling platform in a fjord just south of Clyde River -

Ray: Come on, Fraser, just tell me the truth. Just say, I'm going to endanger your life, Ray, my friend, I'm going to endanger your life in a wildly bizarre way.

Fraser: All right. Ray, my friend, I'm going to endanger your life in a wildly bizarre way. Step back. Follow me.

Ray: Ahh, Fraser, this hurts my head.

Fraser: You've just got to get streamlined, Ray.

Ray: How do you streamline your head?

Fraser: Practice.

Ray: How do you practice something like this?

Fraser: Holy Moly, look at that. It's a golden eagle.

Ray: Ah, Fraser, we're slowing down.

Fraser: Yep. That would be gravity.

Ray: And now?

Fraser: Now we're falling. Big breath.

Ray: Three.

Fraser: Two.

Both: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

Fraser: Well that was exciting, wasn't it?

Ray: Real exciting, Fraser. . . I can't swim.

Fraser: Well what do you call what you're doing right now?

Ray: I'm praying in water.

Fraser: Well, it looks as though your prayers might have been answered. Look. We found the criminals. Okay, come on. Bloom, close, kick 'em in the head. Bloom, close, kick 'em in the head. Bloom, close, kick 'em in the head. . .

[station corridor]

Welsh: All right, what do we know about this guy?

Huey: John Thomas aka Tony John aka Jimmy Toms. Done time for armed robbery and assault.

Dewey: He was a weapons expert, served with the 82nd airborne. Specialty in explosives and tunnels.

Thatcher: Perfect for the Federal Reserve job.

Welsh: All right. Go check his apartment out. Look, I'm not waiting for a lawyer on this. We're going to go in there like we know the full sheet. We're going to grill the snot out of him.

Francesca: Yeah, let's kick some-

Welsh: Francesca, you're not official.

Francesca: Well neither is she.

Thomas: Come on, you can't grill me with two chicks, foxes though they might be. I got rights.

Welsh: Yeah, we got two missing cops out there. You got no rights, pal.

Thomas: You didn't even Miranda me.

Thatcher: We are not looking for a conviction. We just want some information.

Francesca: And we are not playing games, ashtray.

Thomas: Ashtray?

Francesca: We're here to get some information. And we're going to get that information.

Thomas: Get out of my face.

Francesca: You know, you-you-you don't seem to understand that there are people out there that we care about, hair bottle.

Thomas: Hair bottle?

Francesca: And we're not going to let a little piece of melon like you get in our way. Do you understand?

Thomas: Melon?

Thatcher: You know what she means.

Thomas: No I don't. Melon? Ashtray? Hair bottle? What kind of talk is this? Is this some kind of code?

[Wailing Yankee - deck]

Ray: What the hell is that guy wearing on his head?

Fraser: I think it's his ghost disguise.

[squad room]

Welsh: What d'ya got?

Dewey: We found a pay stub under his mattress.

Huey: Illinois Lake Freight company

Dewey: The guy's been working for them a year and a half after he went down on his ship.

Welsh: Take a lesson. That's real dedication.

Dewey: Yep.

Welsh: Gilbert Wallace. CEO, president, and chief bottle washer. Illinois Lake Freight. I want to know everything about Mr. Wallace and his company. Everything.

Huey: You got it, Lieutenant.

Dewey: You know what?

Huey: Hmm?

Dewey: I think we should work together.

Huey: We do work together.

Dewey: No, I mean on the other stuff. Like, say, you get your drum machine, I get my one-liner.

Huey: Yeah?

Dewey: You know, I do the zinger, you do the rim shot.

Huey: Yeah, okay, so it would go. . .?

Dewey: It would go, like, ladies and gentlemen, my wife is so -

Huey: Ba-dum psh, like that?

Dewey: You got to wait for the joke to finish.

[Wailing Yankee - hold]

Hester: We better get a move on. If they got off a distress signal the Coast Guard'll be moving in soon. . . No, we got a couple of hours at least. Canadian budget cuts.

Fraser: Some kind of salvage operation.

Hester [to Wallace]: They're not going to go quiet.

Wallace: No, but they will go. And this time they'll go down with their ship. What about the cops?

Hester: Lying on the bottom.

Ray: What are they saying?

Fraser: They're out of my range. We have to try to get closer.

Ray: Why? Why are we even on this tub in the first place? There we were, having a leisurely swim doing the bloom-close, bloom-close -

Fraser: I think we can divert him if I, on the count of three. . . Or, well, yeah, do it your way.

Ray: What are you doing?

Fraser: Checking the cargo.

Ray: It's oil. . . What, you found something you can't eat?

Fraser: It's oil laced with PCBs, probably from discarded transformers.

Ray: You can taste all that?

Fraser: Well, naturally I try to keep informed of threats to the environment.

Ray: Well, naturally.

Fraser: Come on.

[Welsh's office - squad room]

Welsh: All right, we got a gold robbery. Then we have a freight company. And we got a real dead guy, map carved on chest, could be pirate, down in the basement. We got a crew made up of the undead. Now can you tell me how this stuff possibly fits together?

Thatcher: Let's start with the pirate.

Welsh: Patch, hook, he's got everything.

Thatcher: I see your progress leaves something to be desired, Constable.

Turnbull: Well, with only four numbers, sir, yes.

Thatcher: Constable, four numbers are more than sufficient to locate. . . four numbers?

Turnbull: Four tiny little ordinals. 4-7-8-5.

Thatcher: You said he had a map?

Welsh: Yeah, carved right in his chest.

Thatcher: It's not a phone number. It's coordinates.

Welsh: Coordinates?

Thatcher: Map coordinates! He's giving us map coordinates! We need a map.

Welsh: Somebody get me a map!

Thatcher: 4785. That's Lake Superior. Get a map of the lake!

[Wailing Yankee - hold]

Ray: Do you have to do that?

Fraser: Very high arsenic content.

Ray: Fraser, spit it out!

Fraser: No, you know, a little bit of arsenic can't hurt you, Ray. . . I think this entire ship is a floating toxic dump.

Ray: This is all about garbage?

Fraser: The illegal disposal of toxic waste is a lucrative criminal activity.

Ray: Does this look like garbage to do, Fraser?

Fraser: That looks like gold.


Mort: If it would make things easier for you, I could slice the map right off his chest.

Thatcher: That might help.

Turnbull: Mmmmm.

Welsh: Is he all right?

Thatcher: With Turnbull, one can never tell. . . Wait! Here! Here it is.

Welsh: The map coordinates?

Thatcher: There. Almost the same place. That's near Sam Thorn's detachment headquarters. We can secure resources there.

Welsh: The open waters are calling me back.

Thatcher: You were a sailor?

Welsh: My uncle worked the lake boats. The sea is my genetic destiny. Shape up! We're shipping out.

Mort: Ho yo ho! Ho yo ho!

[Wailing Yankee - hold]

Larry: Hey, what's going on?

Wallace: The cops got John Thomas.

Larry: Can we get to him?

Wallace: Dumb play.

Larry: It would be fun to shoot him.

Wallace: Forget him. Here's the drill. We get the gold out, set the charges in the cargo, blow the hold, and move on. By the time the cops figure out what's happening, we'll be just another shipwreck.

Larry: That's going to take some time.

Wallace: Well, you better get a move on.

Larry: Okay.

Fraser: Diabolical. They're going to combine the poisons with linked explosives. The combination of arsenic, oil, PCBs - well, it could lead to an ecological disaster of unimaginable proportions. You see, Ray, this vessel lies up-current of Six Fathom Shoal. And a toxic spill here would contaminate the St. Mary's River, which is one of the most fertile spawning ground of the entire Great Lakes, and that in turn could set off a chain reaction that could lead to, well, it could lead to the destruction of life in the entire Great Lakes sys- Ray? Ray? What are you doing?

Ray: The gold.

Fraser: The gold is secondary. Follow me. . . Ray?

Hester: All right, let's get it done. Pallets 1, 3, and 6, top deck. Let's go.

Larry: Let me know as soon as the transfer vessel gets here.

Hester: Henderson! Thompson! Don't go to sleep on me back there, huh? Keep at it.

Man: We got two naked seamen here!

Radio voice: Roger, two naked seamen.

Hester: Find these guys!

Ray: Fraser, come on.

Larry: We got two bogeys. . . The submersible!


Welsh: I thought Turnbull was supposed to be cutting this path.

Thatcher: Knowing Turnbull, he's either taken a circuitous route or gotten himself entangled with some bears.

Welsh: Bears? There are bears in these woods?

Thatcher: Fairly crawling with them, I would imagine.

Welsh: Great. . . Bears. . . Inspector, what are they doing?

Thatcher: Hiding.

Welsh: But I can see them.

Thatcher: New recruits. Although it seems they have captured Turnbull. . . It must be some kind of drill, I would imagine.

Turnbull [to captors]: I congratulate you on your impressive technique.


Thorn: Identify yourselves!

Thatcher: Inspector Meg Thatcher, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, sir!

Thorn: Meg? My God, I haven't seen you since, well, since the Incident. What brings you to this neck of the woods?

Welsh: We have two officers in trouble.

Thorn: Say no more! Follow me! Recruits, to heel!

Ray: Hey, you're hogging all the room, Fraser. Can you move your leg?

Fraser: No, I can't move my leg.

Ray: Why?

Fraser: It's asleep.

Ray: Oh. . . Got any idea where we are?

Fraser: Yes, you are right behind me and I am right in front of you.

Ray: I mean in the water.

Fraser: Oh. Well, we should be coming across Six Fathom Shoal, at which point I'll be able to navigate by dead reckoning. Well, that is, provided I've calculated correctly.

Ray: And if you haven't?

Fraser: Oh well, then, we'll be hopelessly lost.

Ray: Oh, see, this is what I love about you, Fraser. That real positive, you know, everything's-going-to-work-out-fine kind of attitude. It really butters my muffin, eh?

Fraser: Thank you, Ray.

Fraser Sr.: Oh he's right, son. You're too logical and dispassionate. It's too hard on him. You can't force your standards on other people. Come on now.

Ray: What are you looking at?

Fraser: You.

Ray: Come on, keep your eyes on the road, just. . . [mutters] looking at me. . .

[detachment camp]

Welsh: You call these resources?

Thatcher: Well, there have been a few budget cuts lately. Still, Sergeant Thorn is an excellent man - well, woman.

Welsh: If she's so excellent, what's she doing out here in the boonies?

Thatcher: Well, she has a few idiosyncrasies. Her official performance review designation was BTC.

Welsh: BTC?

Thatcher: Big Time Crazy. She had a long-standing dispute with headquarters regarding the future of the force. Her position was that we should revamp and develop ourselves into a fully fledged naval power.

Welsh: Naval power?

Thatcher: Umm.

Thorn: And why not? What's the point of having a strong federal force without a strong naval power?

Thatcher: I don't think we need to get into that right now, Sergeant.

Thorn: Do you know what's over there?
Welsh: No.

Thorn: The United States of America. That would be a foreign power. A damn big one, too.

Thatcher: We have a special relationship with the United States, Sergeant.

Thorn: Oh sure. England and Spain get along now. But don't forget about the Spanish Armada. Think about it. If Nelson hadn't been ready, we'd all be speaking Spanish, and I have no love for romance languages!. . . You an American?

Thatcher: Lieutenant Welsh is working with me.

Thorn: I'll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, I've been assessing your situation and what I think you need is a boat.

Thatcher: Exactly. Do you have one?

Thorn: I think I might have something that fits the bill.

Welsh [to Thatcher]: Demented.


Ray: Look, Fraser, are we under the creek without a paddle here? Are we lost?

Fraser: No, we're not, we're not, uh -

Ray: Just admit it, Fraser. We're lost.

Fraser: No, we're not lost.

Ray: Admit it.

Fraser: All right, we're lost.

Ray: Okay. Thank you. . . Go that way.

Fraser: Why?

Ray: I got a feeling. It's a hunch, it's a feeling. Go that way.

Fraser: Yes, but there's absolutely no reason why -

Ray: Look, Fraser, just this once. Just this once. I trust you. Every single time, every single time I got to trust you. Just once you trust me. Go that way.

Fraser Sr.: Do it, son.

Fraser: Yeah, but if we -

Ray: No ifs, ands or buts. Just. . .

Fraser Sr.: Buck Frobisher and I didn't speak for three years. Then there we were, face to face across the raging waters of the Nahanni River. Criminals bearing down on us. He had a rope; I, a grappling hook. The only route to safety was to meet in the middle. You got to trust your partner, son. Otherwise, nothing will go right.

Fraser: That way?

Ray: Yeah. That way.

Fraser: All right.

[detachment camp]

Thorn: Attention! Suck in that gut, cadet! Shoulders back, head up. Don't look at me. What are you looking at? Don't look at me! You call this shipshape? I've seen tighter sheets in a whorehouse. No slacking off. Look around you. Attention! The man beside you may not be coming back. We're going to see some real action today. Men will bleed. We're going to see some real steaming guts before this day is over! This may be your only chance to die for your country or at least be maimed or dismembered. Don't blow it!


Thorn: Anything?

Recruit 1: Nothing.

Recruit 2: Nothing on the port bow.

Thorn: Anything?

Recruit 3: All clear here!


Ray: What is it?

Fraser: I think it's a vessel, but I don't think it's a freighter. Judging from its shape, its displacement, I think it's. . . Oh my God, I don't believe this, Ray. Prepare to surface.


Recruit 3: Captain, unidentified submersible, off the port bow!

Fraser: Ahoy, Bounty!

Thatcher: It's Fraser!

[interrogation room]

Thomas: How much more of this do I have to listen to?

Francesca: Until you cough up, spill the jellybeans, sing like a teabird, and talk like a puppet.

Thomas: Talk like a puppet? What does that mean?

Huey: It means that we know you were in on the robbery.

Dewey: Illinois Lake Freight was behind it.

Francesca: Why don't you just tell us, Johnny? Spill your guts, 'cause if you don't I'm going to keep talking to you until you're pink in the face.

Thomas: Pink?

Francesca: Yeah. Oh, yeah. I'm going to broil you, baby. I'm going to give you the second degree and if you don't believe me, ask them. I can keep talking longer than an attorney.

Dewey: Even longer.

Francesca: So, beef butt. . .

Thomas: All right, all right, all right! I'll talk. . . It's like you said. We did the robbery for Wallace.

Dewey: What about the boat and sailors?

Thomas: Ah, we blew the reserve and put the gold onto a Hercules. Flew north to a small strip in Manitoba, flying low under the radar. Hit a squall and went into Superior just off of Six Fathom Shoal.

Francesca: Yeah? Yeah? Come on!

Thomas: We been trying to bring it up ever since. But it's not easy. We had to make a mini Bermuda Triangle. That's where Wallace got the idea for the ghost ship. Dress up like the Robert Mackenzie, he said, and scare everybody off.


Fraser: Thank you for the uniform, sir.

Thorn: My pleasure, Constable.

Fraser: The sword is a unique addition.

Thorn: An essential modification for naval duty.

Turnbull: Ha. Completely unacceptable. It's a violation to the uniform. Using recruits to build a boat is one thing, but tampering with the uniform, I'm sorry but I must put my foot down.

Thatcher: Thank you. That will be enough, Constable.

Thorn: Piss off.

Welsh: Jack and Dewey moved in on Illinois Lake Freight. Looks like you were right. They're dumping massive quantities of toxic waste on consignment. That's how they financed the Federal Reserve job.

Fraser: Thank you for that expository information, sir. Has there been any word from the Coast Guard?

Welsh: Still more than 3 hours away.

Fraser: All right, it's up to us, then.

Ray: Fraser, why is it always up to us?

Fraser: How quickly do you think you can get us there, sir?

Thorn: Full sails, good wind. . . 33 minutes and 17 seconds. We have a full complement of cannons. The men have been doing gunnery drills for weeks. We're in fighting trim. Just give the word.

Fraser: Sir, as ranking officer. . .

Thatcher: Set the sails!

Thorn: Set the topsail.

Recruit: Aye-aye, sir! Set the topsail!

Fraser Sr.: Them as what dies will be the lucky ones.

Fraser: What are you talking about?

Fraser Sr.: Wooden ships and iron men. Oh it's good to be back at sea again, Son.

Fraser: You've never been at sea, Dad.

Fraser Sr.: Well, I've been contemplating a cruise. The roll of the waves, the glare of the sun, the exhilaration of the wind, dinner with the captain, Polynesians. . . It's romance. This is romance! It's got the feel of romance about it, son.


Thorn: Hey, Yank.

Welsh: What?

Thorn: You got something of the sea about you.

Welsh: I used to work the lake boats with my uncle.

Thorn: I thought so. You got a good spine.

[Ray/female recruit]

Ray: Illinois.

Recruit: Chicago.


Thatcher: Fraser, I, uh -

Fraser: Sir?

Thatcher: I'm glad you're alive.


Turnbull: Put it down to the effects of wind and sail, but let me tell you something. I find you an incredibly aggressive young man. . .

Fraser [to Fraser Sr.]: That's very odd. It's high noon and the sun is setting.

Fraser Sr.: Ahh, that's romance, son.

[Wailing Yankee - bridge]

Radar man: Sir, we've got something big moving toward us. But I can't pick up an engine.

Wallace: Uncover the gun. Whatever it is, we'll blow it out of the water.


Ray: Come on! I don't like this. They got a big metal ship and we got this little wooden boat.

Thorn: We have the advantage of surprise.

Ray: But they can see us coming.

Fraser: Well, Ray, imagine yourself at sea. Suddenly you find yourself set upon by members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Chicago Police Department in a vessel that is a replica of the HMS Bounty. Wouldn't you be surprised?

Ray: It depends.

Fraser: It depends? On what?

Ray: On if I could see you coming.

Thorn: The time is upon us. Inspector?

Thatcher: Give the word, Captain.

Thorn: Battle stations!


Thatcher: Put your back into it, Lieutenant. Seconds count when we're in combat.

Turnbull: Gun is ready, sir.

Thatcher: Eight seconds. Not bad, Turnbull.

Turnbull: Thank you, sir.

Welsh: You know how to do this?

Thatcher: Standard training. Run it out! You never know when a ceremonial canon might
need to be fired.

[Wailing Yankee - bridge]

Wallace: Come on, come on-

Radar operator: They're right behind us, coming up hard.


Thorn: Ready the port guns! Trim the topsail! Steady on the helm, crewman!

Fraser: Ready?

Ray: No, not exactly -

Fraser: Good luck.

Thorn: Fire when your guns bear!

Thatcher: Fire on the peak of the roll, Lieutenant. That way you'll get a little more height.

Thorn: Fire!. . . [exchange of gunfire] Stand by to board!

Fraser: Now!. . . [on Wailing Yankee deck] It's Wallace. He's heading for the cargo hold.

Ray: Right behind you.

Fraser: Ready?

Ray: Go!

Thorn: Ed! Ed Iron Bottom Smithers! You still breathing?

Captain: I'll slice the stinking slubs to gizzards, stern to sternum! I'll disassemble them like I did that Moor. . . Hey, you've gained weight.

Sergeant: You too. Suits you.

Welsh: Nice leg.

Thatcher: Nice arm.

Welsh: Big boat.

[in hold]

Fraser: You should lower your weapon and surrender.

Hester: Maybe I should just feed you to the fishes.

Fraser: Andy Calhoon oblique stroke Vic Hester, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.

Hester: Am I missing something here?

Fraser: Only that I have a partner that should be showing up just about now.

Ray: Hi.

Fraser: Thanks for coming, Ray.

Ray: I was in the neighborhood.

Fraser: Here's the gun.

Ray: Why don't you carry it?

Fraser: I don't have a permit.

Ray: Well you don't have to shoot it, you can just carry it.

Fraser: Oh. All right.

Ray: Yeah, this is the one. . .

Larry: Take your hands away from the device and stand up.

Ray: It's me, uh, still lost. You see, I've been drinking more and looking for the commode. . . [to Fraser] You shoot a gun. Who the hell throws a gun?

Fraser: Well, I told you, Ray, I don't have a permit. Aside from which, we're still technically in United States waters, although at the rate of drift I think we should be in Canadian waters in approximately 83 seconds. Ready?

Wallace: You're both very clever. Unfortunately it's all for nothing. This hold is rigged with a dozen charges, and I carry the detonator. I push it, breach the hull, and you spend the rest of time in the bottom of the lake.

Ray: You'll go down as well.

Wallace: Maybe. Maybe not.

Ray: I suppose you got some sort of escape pod kind of thing or something.

Wallace: You might say that. . . You should have let this one go, Mountie. Hell, I didn't make the stuff. I'm just taking out some garbage for some lazy companies who are paying me good money. If I wouldn't have done it, somebody else would have.

Fraser: You systematically polluted the Great Lakes for your own profit, planned a gold robbery and murdered six men in the process. In a final act of viciousness, you're going to sink a toxin-laden ship causing untold damage and destruction. For that you must face Justice.

Wallace: I hate to tell you this, but Justice and me are never going to be great pals. I hope you enjoy your stay at the bottom of the big lake they call Gitchigoome. Me? I'm going to be in the South Pacific.

Fraser: Possibly. But right now, my friend, you're in the Dominion of Canada. . . [to Ray] Bring up the net. . . [to Wallace] This vessel sits above the wreck of the Robert Mackenzie. Brave men lie below us in these waters, men whose names and reputations you used. This is their graveyard. You didn't think they'd let you get away with it, did you?


Smithers: Ah, yes, it feels good to have a wooden deck beneath my feet again. Reminds me of the time I circumnavigated the globe with only the stars to guide me. . .

Fraser Sr.: And a bottle of rum.

Smithers: Ah, yes, of course, a bottle of rum. Always the rum. . . who. . .?

Sergeant: Maybe we should take a swing around the lake before we go back, shell something on the American side.

Welsh: I'll break your jaw.

Sergeant: I'll break yours first.

Turnbull [to cute male recruit]: . . . I always lacked discipline. How about you? Do you lack discipline?

Thatcher: Fraser?

Fraser: Sir.

Thatcher: Your 10989B report. . .

Fraser: Yes, sir. As soon as we reach port, I'll be able to fill -

Thatcher: I don't think we need to worry about it.

Fraser: We don't need to worry about my 10989B report, sir?

Thatcher: Just this once.

Fraser: Thank you, sir.

Ray: So. . . transfer. . . you thought about it?

Fraser: Well, it would be the logical career move.

Ray: I know. . . That's what I think. It's what my instinct tells me.

Fraser Sr.: Buck Frobisher and I stood across from each other on the banks of that river, and we knew, without even speaking, we knew we'd come to the same conclusion, that sometimes you just have to make a leap, son. Sometimes you just have to leap.

Fraser: Thank you.

Ray: For what?

Fraser: Well, I realize that logic doesn't always work.

Ray: I know. And I realize that going on instinct doesn't always work, either.

Fraser: No. . . no, so. . .?

Ray: You going to take the transfer?

Fraser: I don't think so. You?

Ray: Me? No.

Fraser: All right. So we're - we're still, uh- ?

Ray: I think.

Fraser: Okay.

Ray: Good.

Fraser: Right you are.



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