Smokin' Aces 2: Assassins' Ball (2010) Movie Script

JULES: Is this the past or the
present you're talking about?
And this is real? This is
a story, or this is real?
Working on your man,
Walter Weed.
VICKY: Yeah, interesting career.
Forty years, same division, same desk.
Is this that in-transmission
that's been tracking?
JULES: Yep. There's an awful lot
of crypto in the carrier wave,
and they're using some
kind of spread spectrum.
Is that accurate?
The name?
- Walter Weed.
- Yes.
My wife, Elizabeth,
daughter, Mary.
Why is the bureau putting a
close protection team on Weed?
The question's
why would they need to?
Retiring, wheelchair-bound,
mid-level information analyst.
There's really
nothing to tell.
BAKER: How many enemies
can this guy have?
Tell me about April 19th. April
19th, 3:00 a.m., to be precise.
Am I in some
sort of trouble?
BAKER: No, Walter, you're
in very specific trouble.
Bureau intel has
decoded credible data
that a multimillion-dollar
contract has been put into play
by parties
as yet unknown.
Unconfirmed information is
that this is an open contract,
and that multiple assets
may be involved.
Confirmed information from
our good friends at ViCAP
had the termination date
April 19th, 3:00 a.m.
And you said,
"Termination date"?
Your termination.
You're the target.
Tomorrow's the day you're
supposed to die, Walter.
This is some kind of
a gag, isn't it?
Abrams is behind this,
isn't he? Right.
For my retirement party?
This is
an assassination market.
Normally this level of asset engagement
is associated with heads of state.
Mubarak was a market
target four years back.
Hamid Karzai
more recently.
You're talking about people
of great importance and power.
What do I have in common with
them? Why would I be a target?
That's what we want
to know, Walter.
So tell me a story.
You asked to
see me, Father?
I thought we should
pray together, girl.
Pray together and ask the
Lord to forgive you your sins.
You do want God's love,
don't you?
Of course, Father.
Well, then you know
what you must do.
Please, Father,
kiss me first?
I was sent by the parents of the
children you took liberties with.
As penance for your sins, they've
asked for nothing less than your life.
Sometimes, true forgiveness
has to be forced upon us.
BAKER: An unknown individual
has put a bounty on your head
that'll draw every animal
who can point a gun,
wield a knife,
or crush a skull.
Sublime, as always.
This individual, the
un-sub contracting this hit,
is likely a major player in
international assassinations.
It's not likely that we'll know the
size and scale of the threat against you,
but we should be
ready for anything.
I've been employed and
entrusted with a responsibility.
What would happen to the world if we all
abandoned our responsibilities, Marty?
Look, we could...
Chaos. That's what
would happen.
Yeah. I understand that,
all right? Believe me, I do.
But everything has a
price, right? And I can pay.
I'm talking $2,000,000.
Okay, okay,
fuck that, fuck that.
Look, I...
I could get you more.
A lot more. My brother, Morris Mecklen,
he's got this client, Buddy
Israel, he's got shitloads of cash.
Two days and you'll have
the money. Just two days!
We don't have
two days, Marty.
We only have now.
The Mayans and the ancient
Egyptians practiced brain surgery.
- What the fuck?
- But it was Dr. Walter Freeman
who perfected it.
- Depending on the position...
- Don't do this.
...and the depth of the ice
pick, one can neutralize pain,
the language center,
or short-term memory.
My eyes! I can't see!
Jesus. God. What the fuck?
Different parts
of the brain,
...different results.
- Wait, wait.
$3,000,000. I can
get you $3,000,000.
The cerebellum
controls speech, Marty,
not your hearing,
so listen very carefully.
Don't do this.
The people who have employed
me have already paid me,
and once
I've been paid,
- I see the job through.
- No!
- No! You don't have to do this!
- Otherwise, chaos.
BAKER: This is like an
open casting for killers.
Every sociopath in the known
world looking to pick up a paycheck
is gonna be coming
out of the woodwork.
I have a job for you.
Are you free?
Free, no.
Available, yes.
Our intel is still
in the assessment phase.
What we're finding
is that these assets
show no allegiance to any individual
government or political ideals.
They're just
cold-blooded killers.
- (GRUNTS) Yeah! Yeah!
- Fucker! Look at me.
Where's my fucking shipment?
Where is it?
Where's my
fucking shipment?
They're on the base. They're
on the base. All right?
All right? They're watching
me. They were watching so...
You're gonna fuck me?
Oh, I am fucking you.
I want my
motherfucking weapons!
You motherfucking filthy...
They're in the depot.
Excellent work, sailor.
BAKER: The variety of monsters
tracking you that are already
more than likely
on their way here
is like the
World Series of assassins.
Gonna make this joke about you shooting
your load and then me shooting you,
but it wasn't as good
as "dismissed.' '
How was the old swabbie?
Ring your bell, did he?
Fucker said they's holding our stash
in an armory just inside the depot.
You know, I heard that
most Navy recruits
have had at least
one homosexual experience
before they's
even midshipman,
so, Sis, I was wondering, I
mean, was his deck gun firing?
Or maybe he was banging you while he
was thinking about Popeye's forearms.
Lester, why don't
you just admit
that you want this sweet little
package all to yourself, huh?
I admit I wouldn't
mind a little...
- Come on. Come on, now.
- Don't you fucking touch me,
you fucking prick. Get your
fucking dirty paws off me, fucker.
FRITZ: Don't you know, boy,
the danger of blood relations?
That's what double-fucked
the Confederacy.
That's how we lost
the Civil War.
You think you want a whole
slew of kids running around
whose eyeballs are touching because you
can't keep your hands off your sister?
Bunny Rabbit.
Time to get serious. We
gonna acquire us some fire.
KAITLYN: God damn!
That's a mini! Four
thousand rounds a minute.
Let's go, Sling Blade,
shake a leg!
Well, if it ain't
the great benefactor.
God damn it, Lester!
Suppressive fire!
Always busy, sugar.
We like to keep it oiled so
we's always ready to roll hard.
What you got
for us, honey?
There's a theory that this has to
do with some code that you cracked,
some piece of cryptology that
is meaningless with you alive
but invaluable
with you dead.
I am only
medium-security clearance.
Any top secrets
that are disseminated
are deemed declassified long
before they ever cross my desk.
Walter, we can head-scratch
the semantics of this all day,
but the clock
is ticking.
Oh, God, my face.
What's wrong with my face?
What did you do to my face?
No! No, please!
That's it?
I thought you were
gonna cut my face.
You're not gonna
cut my face, are you?
No. The face is sacred.
But the throat...
BAKER: Most of these
operators we know by deed only,
but they will be cold-blooded,
ruthless professionals.
The bureau has mobilized my
team with the express purpose
of protecting and thereby extending
your life, and that's a good thing.
I trust these people
with my life,
and we're asking you
to trust us with yours.
Agent Dumare,
Agents Abrego and Nicholas,
transport and monitoring.
Agent Redstone's gonna be on close
protection detail with our SAC.
You'll be moved to
an undisclosed location
until the deadline
and the bounty expire.
What is the price?
That is mmm-mmm good.
For $3,000,000...
I'd kill my own mother.
Actually, I did,
for a lot less than that.
God, I... $3,000,000?
I can't imagine what I would've
done in my life to warrant such...
Walter. They're
never gonna collect.
You just give us the word and we'll
go all the way to the wall for you.
The exact time
of kill is...
Is a non-negotiable point.
April 19th, 3:00 a.m.
Any deviation from this timeline
nullifies any form of payment.
You just have that money
waiting on the 20th, sugar,
and I will have something
sweet waiting for you.
All right, Agent Baker.
My life is in your hands.
BAKER: Keeping
our subject alive
depends in no small part
on the secrecy of this op.
We are ghosts, gentlemen.
We do not exist.
We're completely off
the clock on this one.
We're all being
paid cash, tax-free,
in an effort to leave
absolutely no footprint.
You all know Agent Dumare.
He'll be in charge of overwatch.
Agents Williamson, Osterberg, will be in
charge of sniper and recon at location.
Culham will be
down on the street.
Jules and her team will be our sole
point of contact within the bureau.
We're overlord 24l7.
We'll have real-time sat images,
local news and law enforcement feeds.
Anything happens
in or around you,
you'll know
about it immediately.
All this trouble for me.
Why this guy?
I suppose I should be flattered,
somebody wanting me dead so badly.
BAKER: Great men
attract great enemies.
Well, I hardly qualify.
I shot a gun once on a range
in Quantico, at a paper target.
Well, I've fired hundreds
of them hundreds of times.
Don't worry, Walter.
We promise not to let
things get too exciting.
Our location will be unknown
until we touch down.
That means we'll be
traveling signal-free.
That's no cell phones, PDAs,
nothing that receives or transmits.
You got them,
give them up.
And all forms
of ID, as well.
Remember, none of us
exists as of this moment.
So, what, things go
sideways, no pension?
The way you fucking eat, you
won't make it to pension anyway.
We're T minus 30.
I'll see you in transpo.
DUMARE: All right,
immediate mount and mobilize.
Don't let the door hit
your ass on the way out.
Dom, I'm serious about that pension,
man. I got a kid. You know that.
You fucking stunad, they
can't take your pension away.
Not unless you do something
completely horrible.
Don't you remember Cabo,
with the soap?
WALTER: How old are you?
Thirty-two? In charge of this unit?
Somebody up there
likes you.
You're soaring up,
and I'm headed down.
You must have some pretty
amazing memories, though.
Any one in particular
stick out?
Meeting Ronald Reagan.
I can only imagine, it must've
been like Moses going up the mount
and God coming forth.
He was
a colossal figure.
BAKER: Sorry.
God was colossal, too.
Okay, gentlemen, recon takes
up station and plots position.
We don't breathe
until they say it's good.
Good to go.
Clear to offload. Over.
What do you
got for me?
Rocket fuel.
Thank you.
Want you to meet
Special Agent Malcolm Little.
Welcome to Little Jazz.
These are my agents you guys
are gonna be working with.
This door is your
first line of defense
out of what essentially
is a bunker.
Gentlemen, you're looking
at a little piece of history.
Turn of the last century, they built
freight tunnels throughout all of Chicago.
butchered steer.
Back in those days, these
tunnels were swimming in blood.
And if it wasn't the
slaughterhouses using them,
it was the bootleggers
running guns and liquor.
These tunnels used to
connect the sewer system.
They sealed them shut
in the early '50s.
In 1955, Ike's administration
came through and built the bunker.
NICHOLAS: Sorry. Ike?
REDSTONE: Eisenhower, rookie.
Jesus, who hired this punk?
If it's not on an iPod, these
kids haven't heard of it.
ABREGO: Don't let them
ride you, Nick-Nick.
You don't give it back
tenfold, they'll eat you alive.
Next time Red messes with
you, ask him about Gearbox.
- Gearbox?
- Yeah.
the main bunker.
You know, truth be told, it
used to be a private speakeasy
for Sammy "The Ant" Battaglia
during Prohibition.
Later on, one of our most
wanted, Primo Sparazza,
used to take
his girls in here,
get his little geriatric
shimmy-shake on.
What evac points
are available to us?
MALCOLM: Well, that's
the good and the bad.
It would take more munitions to bring
down my doors than level all Chicago,
but it's a warren. There's
only one way in and one way out.
Not too crazy
about that.
You guys got enough food and
booze to last you about six months.
Plus you have
complete surveillance
of upstairs, corridors,
and outside the club.
Seriously, you'd have to be
suicidal to take a run at my spot.
Walter, what do you think?
I think I'm about as safe
as it's possible to make me.
What do you got here?
That would be
a spider hole.
Jesus, Saddam renting
this place from you?
If you're that impressed, rookie,
why don't you jump down in there?
- Sorry?
- No, don't be sorry.
Just get down in there.
Give us a demonstration.
Come on, rookie, in the
hole. Go on, get in there.
- Go on.
- Oh. Okay.
Yeah. Right after
you explain Gearbox.
Rookie fights back.
I like that.
Okay, who the fuck
told him that?
That would be me.
You know,
I figured he ought to know the
kind of man he's working with.
- You fucking...
- No, hey, hey, hey. It's okay.
You didn't follow through. It's
the follow-through that matters.
Still, he nearly
fucked a tranny.
A she-he, bro. That's
gotta fucking leave a mark.
- BAKER: Hey!
- Easy.
You girls want to play grab-ass,
you do it on your own time, not mine.
- I need you right and tight.
- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir.
Let's load in
and station up.
ABREGO: Yes, sir.
Fucking guineas. You get them
to Chicago, they get brave.
If I'm not mistaken,
he sounded a little racist.
Easy, the guy's
a fucking hard-on.
You fuck with the bull,
you get the horns, right?
BABY BOY: Minotaurs.
Minotaurs are cloven-hoofed
creatures of mythological origin.
You mean miniatures.
You know what he meant.
You all be careful. Them
clown fuckers can be dangerous,
and the little ones
can be lethal.
I always make it a point not to
cross swords with carnies and harlots,
but we can use them little boys
as a facade, so there we are.
They're Satan's little secret
agents, collecting souls on the side.
I saw one of them little
bastards levitate one time,
took the heart right out of a Great
Dane, eat it whole, just like that.
- You seen what?
- Yep.
Where'd you see that? Now that
must've been a sight to behold.
FRITZ: Yeah. Sent me
running for my Bible.
You still take comfort
in them fables, Daddy?
Don't you blaspheme, boy.
Never too old to put you over my
knee and beat a reckoning into you.
You're still scared
of clowns, Lester.
I ain't scared
of them, per se,
just very mindful of their
movements, that's all.
BAKER: Card tricks?
Oh, a little.
It's playing cards themselves
that I'm interested in.
They're based on
the old tarot deck,
cards that were used for
foretelling the future.
Can't tell you how handy
that's gonna come in down here.
You don't really buy into that
old-world gypsy bullshit, do you, Walter?
The psychologist Carl Jung
had a different term for it.
The idea being that all of nature's
interconnected in such a way
that the past, the
present, and the human mind,
through an act of random
sampling, if you will,
can predict the course
of future actions.
What's that thing I heard? It's like the
deck itself was like the days of the week?
Something like that?
(SIGHS) Well, there's four
suits for the four seasons,
52 cards for the
weeks in the year,
and if you add up the pips on every
card in the deck, it totals to 365,
the number of days
in the year.
All right.
Where's my card, ace of
spades? It's not in here.
It's not there?
No, it's not.
Well, why don't you look
in Agent Baker's pocket?
Not bad. That's good.
You see one of those.
How the hell
did you do that?
I can't tell you that.
It'll spoil it.
BAKER: What are these? Are these
government-issue playing cards?
I had them made. You
probably think it's silly.
Not at all.
You love your country.
You've dedicated
your life to it.
You want bald eagles on your playing
cards, I think you've earned it.
Gentlemen, should have a real
nice crowd in here tonight.
Cats playing? Tight.
BAKER: Yeah? Who's that?
Well, the feature soloist
is this brother named Little.
Got mad skills
on the horn.
So, how long you guys gonna
have it locked down in here?
We'll hold out
till tomorrow.
This thing's got an
expiration date on it.
After that, it won't be worth
anything to go after him.
They gotta
find us first.
Even if they do, they
ain't getting down there.
You going back
to DC after this?
No, man.
Working on this alias for this
project I've got in Vegas next year.
Cat I like
to call Beanie.
Ghetto retard,
barely educated, brought
up in a gang environment.
Oh, that should be a pretty
easy transition for you, then.
What? I fucking
hate hip-hop.
You hate hip-hop?
Come on.
Oh, what? A black man
can't hate hip-hop?
I bet you tell me my
favorite food's watermelon.
I just can't live
without chicken, huh?
Just gonna snatch up my brother
badge if I ain't bumping some hip-hop.
- You're putting words in my mouth.
- Hey, man, listen to me.
Hip-hop is the
unwanted bastard son
of superior musical forms
like jazz, blues.
These kids don't know
anything about Louis Armstrong,
Miles Davis,
Dizzy Gillespie,
but hey, when it's required of
me, I be pulling hos out the club,
flashing knots and nines on these
niggas. You know how I do, pimp.
Like I said, should be a
pretty easy transition for you.
Little too convincing,
Fuck you.
Excuse me.
Excuse me.
The keys to 409, please?
Excuse me?
Of course, sir.
Sorry, I'm still new.
Culham, what do you got?
All clear down here.
Good, good. Just stop short of
blowing strangers for bags of crack.
how's the view?
Wide open
and whisper-quiet.
All right, keep it
primed, keep them peeled.
All clear here, Baker.
BAKER: Copy that.
Let's get all-around
sit-reps every 20.
Copy that.
Hey, how's my
paesan doing?
- Fat and getting fatter.
- DUMARE: Fucking fatty.
Hey! Hey!
- Hey, watch it.
- DUMARE: Stakeouts equal flab, Abrego.
Sit-reps every 20.
Evening, neighbor.
I'm Troy from next door.
I just want to make sure that
you got settled in all right.
I'm okay, thank you.
A beautiful woman like you
in a town like Chicago...
As your neighbor, I just wanted
to extend every hospitality I can.
And what's that
hospitality consist of?
What was it? Troy?
So, so many things.
You like to
get loco, huh?
- Crazy.
- Yeah, really crazy.
What about experimenting?
Baby, I'm at
your disposal.
No. You will be.
BAKER: What do the
cards say, Walter?
Wish I knew.
I never could
get into cards.
My grandfather, he would sit at the
kitchen table and just wile away for hours.
Always seemed a bit more
of a time-killer to me.
Well, that's not surprising.
You're a man of action.
Cards are more cerebral.
Are they, now?
So do you have
family, Walter?
This is my wife, Elizabeth,
and my daughter, Mary.
Wow, really...
Wow, they're like mirrors to one
another. Your wife is beautiful.
There you go.
That's mine. Amelia.
I never figured you
for a father.
You almost seem shocked.
Sorry. Pardon me.
Well, that right there's
my pride and joy.
So were mine.
on the beltway
Lost control.
I lost all the
things I love,
but through all the horrible,
horrible things we have to go through,
I still find that one
thing worth living for.
What's that one thing?
I'm sorry, Walter.
Who is it?
MAN: Agent Dumare?
Who's there?
BAKER: Miss me?
JULES: A girl doesn't
want to seem too eager.
Go secure for encrypt.
Line secure.
BAKER: What's on the grid?
Nothing. You're
completely spectral,
and your location through everything
we've been monitoring is spotless,
but we did find something
on our mystery man.
He's been on the radar
for about three years
and he's been
a very busy boy.
Brokered at least two dozen
high-profile contract kills.
This guy has worked schoolboy
hard to shield his ID,
but I think we got a name.
I mean, most likely an alias.
Hal Leuco.
Hal Leuco?
Okay, do me a favor. See if you get
any cross-corollary hits with ViCAP.
Check the
right-wing stuff.
You know, those Limbaugh assholes,
just like the boys you used to date.
Never been that lucky.
What are you thinking?
I don't know. Maybe nothing. I
just got a gut thing on this one.
You got it, honey.
And your heart forever?
You've always
had that. Bye.
This town's got more tunnels
than Ho Chi Minh's whorehouse.
The whole city's a warren
of the wicked and depraved.
Speaking of depraved,
you lay a paw on me again,
I'm gonna shove that RPG
where the sun refuses to shine.
Remember old Bobby Dubap,
y'all? Down out of Tulsa?
That shitstain got himself
keistered with an RPG.
Did they fire it?
Fire it?
I'm telling you, boy. I
mean, if you took the time now
to bother to stuff a
collapsible shoulder-launch RPG
up somebody's bunghole,
don't you think you'd fire it?
Wouldn't you feel just a
little let down if you didn't?
(LAUGHING) Why would you put
it up there in the first place?
I don't know. You got your
thumb up there most of the time.
Why don't you tell me?
Y'all are real at
each other right now.
Ah, don't pay him no mind.
His brother Jeeves, brother
Darwin up to stir, see?
Now he thinks he's fit,
maybe, to take over this clan.
I'd rather be incarcerated than have to
sit here and listen to your jibberjabber.
Yeah, I can see that. You'd last
about one minute up in the pen.
Yeah, you'd really be reckoning
with your feminine side.
Yeah, well, there's gonna be
reckoning, old boy, right quick.
"There's gonna be
a reckoning, old boy.' '
BAKER: Good to see you're
prepared. Staying focused.
Oh, I am. I'm utterly
focused on that rack.
Is that not
a majestic set of tits?
What? Are you
being serious?
You're joking, right?
What? What the hell
you talking about?
Vandeven is
a transvestite.
Her vagina was made with,
like, the scrotum sack.
She's, like, 85% man.
- Come on. Come on, Red.
- Oh, fuck.
Are you serious? I
didn't know. Seriously?
No. Go relieve Abrego
and O'Keefe.
Okay. Okay, Bake. You guys, you
got to knock that Gearbox shit off.
And if that kid
gives me lip about it,
I am gonna permanently alter
his speech pattern, I'm serious.
All right, take the kid with
you. Try not to kill him. Come on.
Jesus, you guys.
Rookie, let's go.
You're worried
about something.
Lot of steel and concrete between you
and anyone that wants to get to you.
A name did
come up, though.
Hal Leuco.
That ring any bells?
Never heard of it? Never
came across your desk?
I haven't been involved in that
level of intel in quite some time now,
but if I was, I would've
cross-referenced it.
A name as distinctive
as Al Leuco.
Hal Leuco.
if you know anything...
Sorry, I wish I
could be more helpful.
- Hey!
- Hey, neighbor.
I knew you were
a working girl.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Slow down, slow down, stud.
Hey. I just got paid, okay?
Make this shit happen.
(LAUGHS) Wait. Troy.
- Troy.
- What?
I like to be seduced, Troy.
I like to be kissed slowly.
I didn't think you
whores went for the mouth.
Think of all the grateful women
who will be spared your charms.
(SINGING) Ae fond kiss,
and then we sever
Look, maybe it's not just about
Weed. Why the 19th of April?
What's the significance
of that?
Well, that's gonna take some real
time, sweetie, a search that broad.
I'm gonna get
the whole world back.
Well, press it, okay?
Something feels off.
I ran Hal Leuco by him
and he had no recollection.
But I did get some
preliminary kickback
on that name crosscheck
with potential link
to what looks like some kind of veil
or shadow op codenamed "True Patriot.' '
True Patriot? Now, where'd
that data come from?
It's just a random hit off
this right-wing militia blog,
which went off
Okay, dig it out for me,
will you, babe?
We always do.
Baker for overwatch.
Dumare, you copy?
Dom? Sit-rep.
Where you at?
Dumare, you copy?
All clear here.
Good. Let's hope
it stays that way.
All right, boys, we're
getting into the witching hour.
That's when the party starts, or
the people go home and go to sleep.
Let's hope for the best
and expect the worst.
I want you to keep
your shifts rotating.
The next three hours
are critical.
Anything looks out of place,
I want you all over it.
Keep your mind tight and
your step light. Baker out.
Hey, man.
Help a brother out.
Baker, do you copy? Okay.
Remember now, honey pie,
3:00 a.m. and $3,000,000.
Put the fear
of God in them.
You'll hear me
coming, Daddy.
Lester, you just try and keep
your hands off your pecker, now.
What can I get for you?
What are you offering?
That depends what
you have a taste for.
And if my taste
runs toward musicians
who happen to have
their own club?
Hey, that makes you
an epicurean, baby.
Excuse me.
Mike Gooding,
CYA Records.
- I just listened to that set, man.
- Nice.
Very impressed,
very impressed.
My man.
Welcome to Little Jazz.
- Thank you.
- Hey, you want to meet the band?
All right.
Enjoy the show.
Too much oil.
Excuse me?
You use too much oil.
You're wearing Caron Poivre,
which is a good fragrance for you,
but it's being
ruined by the oil.
Bravo. You're very good
about the perfume,
but I don't use
oil on my skin.
I didn't mention anything
about your skin.
Think it's on the gun
you're wearing.
I think tonight's gonna
end very badly between us.
Overwatch, we got
a vehicle pulling up.
Like a low-rent
Cirque du Soleil-type thing.
It's being towed
by a garbage truck.
That pretend street urchin
smells like John Law from here.
Probably a couple
hawks on the roof.
It's time to set
your brother loose.
Dom, do you copy?
What's wrong with this thing?
I'm not getting anything.
Overwatch, do you copy?
Copy that.
- Check it out.
- Copy that.
Dumare, I got an agent down,
I got an agent down. Dom. Dom.
Injuns two,
cowboys zero.
Okay, so we got
some things on the date.
April 19th. On current or planned
events we drew nothing, but historically,
Baker, some stuff came up.
Oklahoma City bombing
took place on April 19th.
Both the Bay of Pigs and the
siege at Waco ended April 19th,
and what a lot of Americans
don't realize
is that April 19th was
originally Patriot's Day.
But, Baker, April 19th was the
day that Weed lost his family.
Jesus Christ.
What the hell
is True Patriot?
From what I can glean, some
kind of reverse PR campaign
against the United States
on or around the time
of widespread international
criticism of the US government.
So we already look bad, and this
is supposed to make us look worse.
Okay, what kind of ops
are we talking about?
Torture of prisoners in US
custody, all photographed.
Radiation poisoning of a
Russian official by the CIA.
Murder of an Iraqi family,
supposedly by a US soldier,
and the bombing of a subway
in an allied country
in order to sway support
against the Iraqi war.
All carried out under the
banner of True Patriot.
Prisoner torture,
that's Abu Ghraib.
Radiation poisoning,
Iraqi family murders,
Mahmudiyah killings.
Train station bombings,
Madrid subway attacks.
Look, I want you
to dig deep on this.
Okay? I want bank accounts, I
want anything and everything...
Already done. We got
classic shells, offshore,
so no one who wasn't staring at them
would ever connect them to True Patriot.
They're similar to
the tracking accounts
this Hal Leuco character
is using to go after Weed.
LESTER: Hey! Don't shit
yourself, son. It's just me.
I look like that dude,
the one in Platoon.
He's in Sniper.
"One shot, one kill!"
All these gentlemen callers
competing for your attention.
I like the single life.
Look, this situation,
you know what they say.
Two heads are
better than one.
Bigger targets.
I don't need your help.
Then why haven't
you killed me already?
The night's still young.
Well, hello, handsome.
Walter, why didn't you
tell me that today,
April 19th, is the day
your wife and daughter died?
It hadn't
occurred to me.
Someone says you're gonna die, the
last thing you think about is the date.
Something's not
right here, Walter.
You know how some people, they
get a trick knee before it rains?
You see, I get this twinge in my
gut and it's never let me down,
and right now it's telling me either
you or this situation is full of shit.
- Which one is it? Is it?
- That's outrageous, Agent Baker.
Yes, and I resent
what you're implying.
I have given the better part of my
life to this bureau and my country.
You have no right to
speak to me this way.
Hey, paesan. You check out
the Latina at the bar, man?
Sexy as fuck, but man,
I don't trust it.
It's got this serious-ass
black-widow vibe type thing.
I don't know about her
bullet-head boyfriend, either.
I'll keep an eye on her.
What's with you, man?
You okay?
I'm fine.
All right, man.
FRITZ: Come on, come on.
Move your sorry ass.
Time is a-wasting.
All right, spuds.
Fire in the hole.
- What the hell was that?
- Where's our generator?
- Oh, fuck.
Are you serious?
Everybody be cool. A little power
outage. Happens all the time.
Go with me on this.
Everybody freeze. This
woman's a wanted criminal.
- Who the fuck are you?
- Mike Gooding, FBI.
I've been following this woman for
three days. She's a wanted murderer.
Now get Baker
on the line.
Baker, you getting this?
Baker, do you copy?
Dom, did you get a movement
order on this? Is he with you?
Man, fuck this.
Everybody relax,
this fucking second.
Deep breaths, dry palms.
We're gonna take care
of the situation.
I want everybody within
the sound of my voice
to place their weapons
on the ground.
I believe we's ranged.
- Reload!
- BABY BOY: Yeah!
Oh, shit!
BAKER: Someone's
compromised this operation.
We were invisible.
We were fucking invisible.
Wait till it's safe!
I'm not paid
to play safe.
(CRYING) I should've
listened to you.
Not my strong suit,
I guess.
It never was.
BAKER: Dumare,
where is my overwatch?
- BAKER: Nick?
- NICHOLAS: Link's still down, sir.
Can anybody up there hear me?
Osterberg? Abrego? Somebody?
ABREGO: Copy that, Chief.
Our door is still sealed.
Locking mechanism unaffected.
You hold your position.
You kill anything you don't
know. You understand me?
Jules, overwatch
is down or dead.
I need full response,
all available agents.
I repeat,
full armed response.
Copy, Chicago field
office deploying now.
Send me everything you got.
We're under siege here.
I'm on it.
Are you okay?
No, not at all.
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, baby, go wide!
Hit the deck!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hey! Check this one out!
That's not
a close-quarters weapon.
You could've killed us
all, shit for brains!
(EXCLAIMS) God damn it!
And that's for taking
the Lord's name in vain.
I've been shot.
I've been gut shot. Abrego, please.
Can't you see I'm dying out here.
Baker, I got Dumare on the
other side of the elevator door.
- DUMARE: Open the goddamn door!
- ABREGO: He's hit.
He needs medical
attention immediately.
What the hell is he
doing down there?
Dom, what are you
doing in the bar?
Why aren't you
at your post?
What's he doing? Abrego,
keep that door sealed.
What are you talking about? He's
hit. He's in a bad fucking way, man.
- Stand down, Abrego.
- Bullshit!
What, are you fucking nuts?
We gotta get him out of there.
Not till Baker
gives the okay.
Do not open that door.
I'm feeling cold,
and I know
that's really bad.
Wait, wait.
My eyeholes!
Oh, dear me.
Baby Boy.
You did real good.
There's a time for tears,
Daddy, but this ain't it.
There's money for the
taking. $3,000,000 worth.
Do not open that door.
Step away, man.
Open the door.
- Now!
- It's fucking Dom, for Christ's sakes.
I am not letting him die
three fucking feet from me.
- Stand down now!
- Abrego.
- BAKER: Abrego, this is a direct order.
- Hold on, Dom!
Do not open that door!
Do you understand me?
I'm coming!
What the fuck, Dom?
You're not Dom.
Sir, I've got gunfire
in the stairwell.
Proceed with
extreme prejudice.
You are our last
line of defense.
Hold your fire!
Hold your fire!
It's me! It's Dumare! I think
I'm hit! These guys are on my ass!
I'm coming out!
FRITZ: Hell!
Jules, where's my backup?
They're en route. But, Zane,
listen to me, the contractors...
Jules, the fucking
ceiling is coming down.
The assassins targeting Weed all
have extensive government kill sheets.
Wetwork for Uncle Sam.
So you're saying that they've
targeted US government agents before?
No, that's just it.
All of the vendors have
been classified "liquidator,"
and at one point or another have
engaged in illegal covert activity
for the US government.
Do you hear me?
They've worked for us.
Jules? Jules?
You've been lugging that
damn rocket around
like a Afghani at a fucking
Bar Mitzvah! Shoot that sucker!
Hold on! Hold on down there!
Hold your fire for a second!
Any of you want to see
my sister's tits?
JULES: How far away
is tactical response?
JENNY: It's 20 out.
Local PD's onsite
in three.
Just stay on it.
Get my line back up.
What the fuck is that?
I'm a businessman. I'm here
to negotiate with Mr. Weed.
Stand down.
Relinquish your weapon and
get in the prone position.
If you don't let me in,
your man's no use to me.
SOOT: Deal or no deal?
No deal.
God damn it, Bake.
Open the door.
Shut up.
You're wasting time,
and he's losing blood.
No matter what you do,
I will not open this door
and if you kill that man, I swear
to God, I will hunt you down.
Repeat. I will hunt
you down like a dog
and kill you if it's
the last thing I do.
I'll make sure
that it is.
- Will that door hold?
- It's got to.
If our intel's correct, three
minutes, it's roll credits.
If he's not dead at 3:00 a.m.
exactly, there's no payment.
Cheer up, Houdini. You're
about to live through this.
Y'all mind if I crash
your little party?
- Walter!
- ...meeny...
- Walter, you okay?
- Yes.
Come on. Come on.
Come on. Oh, shit.
Look, okay, okay. No,
no. No, no. No. No, no.
No, no, no. Cover his chest,
cover his chest, cover his chest.
Cover his chest. Wound. Right
here. Wound, wound, wound.
Okay, look at me. Breathe.
Breathe. You're okay.
- What is happening to me?
- No, no, you'll...
(SHUSHING) No, no.
Lay down, lay down.
- No, no. No. No, no.
- REDSTONE: Just breathe. Come on.
- No, no. Open your eyes.
- Come on, Nick. Come on, Nick.
BAKER: Come on.
Come on. Come on.
Hit him again, lummox. Two more
minutes and we're shit out of luck.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Get away from
that goddamn door.
Hey, hey, hey.
This is
a dead man's switch.
There's enough C-4
explosives wired to my chair
to bring down
this entire bunker.
If I release this button,
it detonates the explosives.
Okay, okay.
I can take him.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey,
hey. Take three steps back, okay?
Just stand down.
Just hold on.
Requesting permission
to terminate target.
No, Red.
- Stand down. Red!
- He is a goddamn suicide bomber, Bake.
A dozen men are dead.
Red! No!
All right? Everything's
cool. Everything's cool.
Red, you okay?
Do I look like I'm fucking
okay? No, you just shot me!
See? Red's okay.
Walter, you're
a government official.
You're about to
murder your own.
For the greater good.
There are men
outside that door
that are wanted
enemy combatants
directly aligned
against our country.
They have engaged in
the most heinous acts
ever perpetrated
against the United States.
In 40 years, I have never had the
opportunity to do anything heroic.
this isn't heroic.
This is sanctioned murder.
You're sweeping up for
somebody, Walter, okay?
Hal Leuco fed you a line of bullshit,
and now they're using you, Walter.
I am not being used.
I lied to you.
I am well aware
of True Patriot,
a vicious, coordinated assault
by animals like Finbar McTeague
conducting tortures in the
name of American interests.
He stages these sessions,
photographs them,
and disseminates the
pictures around the world.
And Ariella Martinez,
well-versed in exotic
poisons and toxicology.
She liquidates a Russian
dissident with radioactive poison
used only
by the US military.
Lazlo Soot. He murders an Iraqi
family and pins it on a US soldier.
Those crazed hillbillies,
the Tremors?
The True Patriot is a
fabrication. Hal Leuco made it up.
They blew up a train station in Spain.
It swayed a major election,
voted in a liberal president,
who then pulled his
support on the Iraqi war.
NEWSCASTER 1: 191 people were killed
today, and more than 2,000 were...
NEWSCASTER 2: It seems the train targeted
by the bombers were either in station or...
These are cold-blooded
mercenaries and killers
in open warfare
against our government.
They have been sent a contract
on me to lure them here,
where I can terminate
all of them.
Okay, Walter,
wait a minute.
Everything you know about
True Patriot is a lie.
Yes. Hal Leuco, whoever
or whatever the fuck he is,
he's been planning on using you for
months, maybe even years in advance.
Yes, Walter. They planted these stories.
They stitched them together
to get you here to this moment.
It's blowback, Walter.
Everyone you mentioned,
all those enemy combatants,
yeah, they've done some
sinister things, Walter,
but on behalf of the US government,
and now they want them dead.
Do you see what's happening
here? This isn't about patriotism.
- This is about eradication.
- No.
Yes, and that's what
they're doing to you, Walter.
- Don't let them. Don't.
- No.
My wife and my daughter
were taken from me.
By what? Chance?
Ideas live on, Agent Baker.
People don't.
And when I roll out that door
and detonate these explosives,
I join
the grid of destiny.
I will be remembered.
I will be history.
You have a choice.
Destiny's plaything,
or avenging angel?
Please don't do this.
Please don't do this, Walter.
Walter, please. Fuck.
Come on. Come on.
FRITZ: Help me.
Help me, boy.
(CACKLING) Help me.
Help me. Help me, boy.
I'll help you,
you old fucker.
MAN 1: Sir?
Sir, are you okay?
MAN 2: Hey, buddy,
you all right?
Gun! He's got a gun!
Whoa! I'm Agent Baker.
I'm in charge.
Don't. Don't move. Get down on
the ground. Get down on the ground.
VEJAR: Get off him!
He's FBI.
You four, lock this place
down, check for survivors.
See to Lester Young there
while you're at it.
Agent Baker, I'm Special
Agent Anthony Vejar.
I know you've been through
hell, but I'm out of time.
Where's Walter Weed?
He's dead.
You can verify that? You
saw him die? You saw a body?
He blew himself up
into a million pieces.
I'm gonna ask you
one more time.
Did you see a body? Did
you actually see him die?
He was sitting on enough C-4
to level downtown Chicago.
He was a suicide bomber.
There's no body to recover.
We have reason to believe
that Walter Weed was Hal Leuco.
We think Leuco was
some sort of cleanup man,
taking care of old assets like
the Tremors, McTeague, Lazlo Soot,
in order to eradicate
any link to True Patriot,
anyone he'd dealt
with personally.
There's an element of shadow
government behind this.
agency in the black.
It's unclear, but you and
your men were used, co-opted.
Okay, wait a minute,
wait a minute.
My team did an extensive
background check.
They tracked Weed all the
way back to his childhood.
He worked for the agency,
for God's sakes.
It was all fabricated.
Leuco papered, disseminated
information in the agency
to create
the illusion of Weed.
Hal Leuco isn't
even a real name.
It's short for Haliaeetus leucocephalus.
It's Latin for "bald eagle.' '
BAKER: You want bald eagles on your
playing cards, I think you've earned it.
The assassins, the money we were
tracking, where did all that come from?
As Walter Weed, Leuco had
access to bureau intel,
everything we'd been
working on domestically.
As Hal Leuco, he was privy to
more than his share of CIA ops.
We were a week away from proving
the connection between the two
when this happened.
That is mmm-mmm good.
I'm glad.
How could he get away
with two identities,
working at the highest
level of intelligence?
Leuco is a ghost,
a will-o'-the-wisp.
Now you see him,
now you don't.
That's why I needed to know,
did you see him die?
Are you sure?
How could he
survive that blast?
How the hell
did you do that?
I can't tell you that.
It'll spoil it.
Son of a bitch.
Southside bar owner Malcolm
Little had no idea this morning
that his place of business
would be the scene of a
massive gas leak explosion.
Firefighters are
on the scene...