(futuristic music)

(typing)

(beeps)

(machines whirring)

(typing)

(scat singing)

You have a lovely voice, you know.

Whoa, how long have you been standing there?

Not long, two or three hours.

I like watching you hack.

I've been up all night getting everything you need

for the North Korea job.

What's the holdup?

The cash?

The hot air balloon.

Just steal one from a New England cider festival

like we always did.

There's got to be an easier way to get this done.

Sure.

You and your team could try programming a code

to battle the Staxnet virus,

release it into the cyber flow stream

to bring down Pyongyang's computer network.

But we both know that's a Bandaid solution.

My strategy deals with the human cause,

and I get to ride in a hot air balloon.

I'll call you when everything's ready.

Sounds good.

So, maybe you should go get a good night's sleep.

Hm.

I'm not going to sing anymore.

Bye bye then.

(machines whirring)

(phones ringing)

Topple.

We got everything.

The balloon is at Andrews Air Force base.

The briefcases are waiting on the docks at Dandong,

you're good to go.

Good to go, all right,

I am, I, good to...

What's wrong?

Hm?

What's wrong?

I, hm.

Winters, I'm scared.

It's been years since I was in the field.

What if I don't have it in me anymore?

Don't be scared.

You got this.

You're Special Agent Henry Topple,

unstoppable spy machine.

You're not some washed up dinosaur.

Go put on that fake mustache

and get ready to go kick some real ass.

Well, I'll look for my spirit gum.

But if it's gone bad, we're calling it off.

(machines whirring)

Special Projects, Nicole.

I can still fit into my mustache.

I'm about to fucking go buck wild on these motherfuckers.

Shit is officially on.

That's what I like to hear.

Now go solve this North Korea crisis

so we can get back to eavesdropping on regular people.

This is going to be one sick balloon ride, Winters,

better hang up before you get whiplash.

(scat singing)