The scene goes along for about five minutes with each side exchanging formal communique's of the type with which modern diplomacy is rife, and then Mr. Powell pauses, realizing they're not going to get through the bullsh*t into the meat of the matter.
So he asks his guys to take a break and show their counterparts some of the artwork in the next room, but asks the Syrian Ambassador to remain.
When the door closes, Sec. of State Colin Powell, General, U.S. Army (Retired), looks the Syrian square in the eye, and with a voice barely containing his rage growls "now listen to me, you smarmy son of a *****! You will turn over all intelligence as to the whereabouts of these &&&&&&&&. You will instruct your government that they will keep corridors through your airspace to those locations open until further notice, and you will not interfere with whatever operation we have in store.
"If you do not, I ask you to consider this one question: Where is the former Iraqi Ambassador under Saddam Hussein right now?"
The Syrian Ambassador remains en tableau, his gaze frozen to that of Sec. Powell like a field mouse caught in the python's glare. He comes to himself, and offers his excuses, saying he must make some phone calls.
Fade out.