WHAT TOMORROW BRINGS

Transcript:
Weaver: Come in.
Carver: Late night, brother?
Weaver: You could say that... What can I do for you, Major?
Carver: Mac.
Weaver: Yes, Yes... Mac. What can I do for you?
Carver: I was hoping I could do something for you. You're clearly under a lot of stress at the moment... I take it you've been getting it both barrels from the Director?
Carver: None for me, thanks.
Weaver: I insist. Cheers.
Carver: Look -- I don't want to speak out of turn. Feel free to put me in my place if needs be, but I know how you must feel... losing the team and all.
Weaver: No. You don't know how I feel. You can't. This bastard -- Kravchenko. We go way back.
Carver: I know. I can see it in your eyes.
Weaver: Eye. Singular.
Carver: Sorry. I just mean... I know this is personal, but that doesn't mean you have to take it that way. I spent the best part of ten years feeling the way you do right now -- downing the liquor, trying to numb the guilt of my own failures.
Weaver: I know... I can see it in your eyes.
Carver: Yeah. You should. That guilt isn't going anywhere. But you ain't gonna deal with it any better with the Scotch. You're still gonna have to look yourself in the EYE every morning.
Weaver: Nicely put.
Carver: Anyway, I was on my way out for the night. I just wanted to tell you... I know how you feel. Honestly.
Weaver: I appreciate it Carver.
Carver: Mac.
Weaver: Mac.
Carver: Let's see what tomorrow brings.