Ruthless (2023) Movie Script
1
(gentle orchestral music)
(wind whooshing)
(soft guitar music)
(birds chirping)
(soft music)
(girls laughing)
(waves crashing)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Man] You gave the order.
(Nancy giggles)
(Ron whispers indistinctly)
- Let me watch.
- Come on.
It's okay.
- No, stop it.
Stop it.
(grunts) Get off!
I said friends only!
- Hey!
No means no, pal.
- Yo, watch the movie, old man.
- (scoffs) Fucking jerk.
- Where are you going?
Hey!
Yo, sit down!
Bitch!
(phone vibrating)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Hey, Cassanova.
- Do we have a fucking problem?
- I don't have a problem.
Apparently, you have
a hearing problem.
Have a good night, pal.
- Yo, I feel like you're
trying to fuck with me.
- No, I'm not trying
to fuck with you.
I just want to get home.
You should do the same.
(switchblade clicks)
(both grunting)
(suspenseful orchestral music)
(popcorn scatters)
(both grunting)
(Harry mumbles indistinctly)
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
(bone snapping)
(Ron screaming)
You might want to
take six months
before you jerk off
unless you're a lefty.
(both grunting)
Fuck.
(bone snapping)
See, now you can't
jerk off anymore.
I hope you have friends.
(Ron grunting)
You always take
no for an answer.
If someone says no,
you back off, okay?
- Okay, okay!
(Ron whimpering)
Ronald, you have
health insurance?
- [Ron] Yeah.
- Do you know where
the closest ER is?
- [Ron] Yeah.
- Do you need a ride there?
- [Ron] No.
- Can you drive yourself?
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
(Ron grunting)
(microwave beeping)
Oh.
Hey, hon.
Um, I saw you called earlier,
but I was at an old movie
and I didn't want to pick up
and be that guy. (chuckles)
Um, but here I am
calling you back anyway.
Hey, I've been
wanting to tell ya,
one of my boys made
it to the Olympics.
I get to go back as
a coach this time.
I know, it's really
something else, huh?
All right.
Well, call me back anytime.
Um, let's get lunch.
Um, it's your dad, by the way.
(phone vibrating)
Hi, honey.
Did you get my voicemail?
- Harry Sumner?
This is Chuck Monaghan.
I'm a detective with the Los
Angeles Police Department.
I'm the one that called
you a couple of hours ago
from your daughter's phone.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Why do you have
my daughter's phone?
- I'm sorry, Mister Sumner.
Your daughter's phone was
found at a crime scene.
She's in serious
condition at the hospital.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(EKG beeping)
(nurses chattering)
The man that did
this to your daughter
was just taken into custody.
We got him.
The name's Johnny McCoy.
Do you know him?
Does that name sound familiar?
- No. (sighs)
- We think he might have
been dating your daughter.
I'll give you a minute.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(EKG beeping loudly)
(all chattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gavel banging)
- Mister McCoy, I find you to
be a cold and cynical person,
and I can only hope that
for the rest of your life,
you will think of
Jennifer Sumner
and what you took from her.
I hope you will think
about the family
that she will never have,
of the dreams she
will never achieve,
of the children she
will never get to raise.
You are a danger to society,
and we need to keep predators
like you from harming the
Jennifer Sumners of the world.
For the crime of
kidnapping and murder
in the second degree,
I hereby sentence you
to spend the rest of your life
in a California State Prison.
Goodbye, Mister McCoy.
Please remove Mister
McCoy from the courtroom.
(all chattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(glass thuds)
(phone vibrating)
(distant siren wailing)
- Yeah?
- [Chuck] Mister Sumner,
I just got off the clock,
and I just wanted to
see how you were doing.
- I'm fine.
- [Chuck] I know you
refused counseling,
but I'd like to encourage
you to talk to someone.
- No need.
Justice was served, right?
- [Chuck] It certainly doesn't
feel like that way, does it?
- Well, you did a
good job, Detective.
That's, uh, that's
all you can ask.
- [Chuck] I'm not
sure why I called ya.
I'm probably just
making it worse.
- Uh, have a great
life, Detective.
Thank you for all your
all of your hard work.
- [Chuck] Goodbye, sir.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(all chattering)
(school bell ringing)
(upbeat rock music)
(wrestlers grunting)
(both grunting)
- All right.
Okay.
(indistinct)
(hands clap)
Reset.
Let's go again.
Come on, now.
(wrestlers grunting)
(upbeat rock music continues)
(both grunting)
Come on!
All right.
Break.
(Catia grunts)
- (breathing heavily)
What'd you think?
- I think you should
consider track.
- So, like, I need more
stamina or something?
- More like track
instead of wrestling.
(school bell ringing)
(keyboard clacking)
Shit.
- Coach Sumner?
- What is it, Miss Matson?
- Can I talk to you?
- Yeah, what?
- Well, I was thinking
that I don't want to train
with all the weak links anymore.
- Uh, the weak links?
- Yeah.
I want to train with
Esparza or Harris
so I can really be challenged.
- Why would I want those
boys to be training
with some someone your size?
Just using your logic here.
- Well, then how am I
supposed to get better?
- Maybe just rethink your
extracurricular activities.
Do it for the team.
Or try out for track.
A lot of girls on
the track team.
- (scoffs) Wow.
(keyboard clacking)
Do you have to be a sexist
pig like all of 'em?
At least look down while
you're taking a shit!
- (chuckles) What?
- Yeah.
Everyone looks at
their shit, right?
You can at least look at me
when you're dumping on me!
- Uh-huh.
- You know what?
Screw this.
And screw you!
(frame clattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(both grunting)
(upbeat rock music)
- Come on, Daddy.
Bring it.
(both grunting)
- You got cocky.
Get up!
You okay, Coach?
- (groans) Yeah, just
give me a minute.
- No, you're done.
- I said I need a minute.
- And I said you're done.
- I pay you for an hour.
It's, it's only
been a half an hour.
- No, no, no.
You pay me per hour.
It doesn't mean I gotta whoop
your ass for the full hour.
- Eh.
- What kind of
person would I be?
- Well, let me help you off
your high horse, Princess.
You're a good for nothing
nobody. (breathing heavily)
- Ooh, I likey when
you talk dirty to me.
- Oh, yeah.
You're a loser from a long
line of losers. (chuckles)
- Jab, jab.
Jab.
One, two.
One, two.
One, two, jab.
Up here.
One, two.
Good.
Good.
- You're a has been
if there ever was.
- [Martin] Nice!
- (chuckles) Yeah.
(distant dog barking)
(crowd cheering)
- Hi, Mom.
- Hey, baby.
Why don't you come sit with us?
- Uh, no, thank you.
- Did you get me
something to eat?
- No.
- (chuckles) Babe, she
just home from school.
- There's a fuckin'
Pollo Loco, like,
two blocks from
her fucking school!
- Babe, she's tired.
- I'm fuckin' starvin'!
- What, your little
legs don't work?
(door slamming)
- What the fuck did I say?
(door opening)
- Have you ever
heard of knocking?
- Um, hey, uh, why
do you always have
to talk to me like that?
- Don't touch me.
- I'm talking to you.
- What?
- You know none of this shit
is, well, for free, right?
(chuckles) You ought to be
nicer to me once in a while.
- Or what?
- (chuckles) Jeez.
I swear, if I was your daddy-
- But you're not, okay?
Because my mom would never marry
a pathetic loser like- (gasping)
- [Tom] Watch your
fucking mouth!
(Tom grunts)
Bitch!
- What the fuck happened?
- He just hit me!
- You fuckin' sucker punched me!
- Because you hit me first!
Twice!
Mom, he can't be doing this!
I'm gonna call the cops on you!
- You hit my daughter?
- I was just trying to talk to
her and she's fucking cussing
at me in my own fucking house!
- This is not a house.
We don't even own milk!
- Well, if you don't
fucking like it,
you can get the
fuck out of here!
- I will!
- Tom!
- That goes for you too, bitch!
- What did I do?
- Fucking teach this bitch
some fucking manners!
Shit!
- What did you do, Catia?
- What did I do?
(door slamming)
- Stop picking fights with Tom.
How many times have I told you?
Why are you doing this to me?
- Do you think I like
living like this?
- Do you think I do?
- Well, I don't see you
doing anything about it.
- What do you want
me to do, Catia?
I'm 45 and I don't even
have a high school diploma.
What am I supposed to do?
- We'll, we'll,
we'll figure it out.
I can work.
I'll work.
- Catia, I need you to focus
on finishing high school
and getting along with Tom.
I don't want you
to have the same-
- No.
No, Mommy, you don't get it.
You're just waiting for...
You know what?
Never mind.
If you want to stay,
stay, but I'm out of here.
- Oh, God.
Not again.
I don't have time
for your drama.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Good night, Coach.
- Good night, now.
(Harry breathing heavily)
- You all right?
- Yeah, fine.
- Hey, I'm just making
sure I don't have
to call the paramedics.
- Call me when
you're 57, you prick.
Tell me how your knees feel.
- (laughs) Fair enough.
Well, I'll be happy to beat
that ass some more
tomorrow night.
- (chuckles) Yeah, fuck you.
- [Martin] Good night.
- Good night, now.
(soft music)
(Catia breathes shakily)
Is that you, Miss Matson?
- (sniffles) What do you want?
- What's in that big bag?
- It's a dead body.
- Unusual.
Whose body is it?
- It's my mom's boyfriend.
His name is Tom,
and he's a dickhead.
- Well, then I guess
he had it coming.
- Yeah. (sighs)
I'm gonna dump him
by the LA River,
then I'm hitchhiking
up to Alaska.
Are you heading that
way, by any chance?
'Cause if you're not,
you can just leave.
I've had enough of
men for one day.
- Did you eat dinner?
I've been doing
this a long time.
Everybody's parents
are a pain in the ass.
- (sighs) She always
blames me for everything.
Everything I do is
always my fault,
and then she never believes me.
Like, no matter what I say.
And if I complain, I
get a fist on the face.
What am I supposed to do?
- Well, I think you ought
to try and lie more.
- Lie?
- Sometimes you have to tell
people what they want to hear.
When you rub their
ego a little bit
and you're no longer
a threat, and, um,
their shield tends to come down.
You know, at that
point, then you can try
and make 'em see
your point of view.
You can also avoid confrontation
altogether if you just,
you know, lie a little.
Maybe don't go in
all confrontational
right off, right?
That never works.
- Yeah.
I guess.
- Where's your real dad?
- I never met him.
I never really wanted to.
(straw slurping)
I just can't wait
to be an adult just
to do whatever the
hell I want, you know?
- Yeah, except when
you're an adult,
you don't have time to do all
the things you want to do,
so there's that.
- Who's that girl
in the picture?
- What picture?
- The one on your desk.
She's pretty.
- Ah, that's Jenny, my daughter.
- Where does she go?
- She no longer goes to school.
She died.
- I'm sorry, I knocked
her picture over.
Coach, also, I
wanted to ask you.
Do you think I could stay
over at your place tonight?
- What?
- Sleep over?
- No, of course not. (chuckles)
- Why not?
- I could give you a whole list.
- Top three?
- Well, you're, uh, what, 16?
I'm 57.
Uh, you're a student, I'm
a coach at your school.
Uh, and we're not even related.
It's not appropriate.
Look, listen, kid, I, I gotta
go now, and, um, you know,
the way I see it,
I got two choices.
I can drop you at your
house, or I can drop you
at the police station where
you can file a police report,
which is what I suggest.
So pick one.
- I can't believe it.
Thanks, I guess.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(engine revving)
- The last thing you want to
do is to pick a fight with one
of these people.
- We have a legal obligation
to report any suspicions
of abuse, don't we?
- Is he sexually abusing her?
- Not that she mentioned.
- Sounds more like a domestic
issue between the parents.
(Harry sighs)
Harry, I know doing the
right thing feels good
at the beginning, and we can
go ahead and submit a report,
but if you end up in court,
then everyone knows your
name and where you live.
- So because you're
a chicken shit,
she has to duck jabs at home?
- Do you want to file a report?
Go ahead.
Then come back and
see me in a month.
Let me know how it went.
Pick your fights, Harry.
- I will "Doctor."
Doctor.
Really, I never got that.
- I have a Ph.D. in English.
- And that makes you a doctor?
- I earned the title.
- I wouldn't even let
you check my temperature.
(upbeat rock music)
(wrestlers grunting)
Gets under there.
(all cheering)
All right, next.
Give it a shot.
(all shouting)
(all chattering)
I had to mark you
down as absent.
What happened?
- I quit, remember?
- You didn't have to quit.
- You're the one
that told me to.
- But I didn't think you
were actually gonna go do it.
Usually people just
ignore my advice.
(Catia scoffs)
What happened to your face?
- Well, um, let me see.
Let's break this down.
Um, last night, you took
me back to Tom's house,
and what do you
think happened there?
- But I gave you a choice.
- And who are you
to give me choices?
(Catia sucks teeth)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(upbeat rock music)
- Good.
One, two.
Jab.
(both grunting)
Tap!
- Ah, fuck you!
- Tap!
I'm gonna break your arm.
- (groans) Ah, break it, then.
- Tap!
- No!
(Harry screams)
What the hell's wrong
with you, you pussy?
I had a plan.
- The fuck I had a plan, man.
I should've broke your arm.
Taking pain doesn't
make you better, man.
It makes you fucking stupid.
- Come on, you ready?
Let's go.
Come on.
I'm ready.
- Fuck off!
- Aw, come on.
You done?
- Go home.
- That's all you got?
Twat too sore?
Come on, man.
Bring it.
Bring it.
You got any more?
Fuck you.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- What's up?
- What's up, man?
Yeah.
Yeah, I got it.
You have a good night, man.
Coach! (chuckles)
What'chu doing here, man?
- What's going on?
- Aw, nothing.
You know, just making,
uh, some disposable cash.
- You need money?
I'll pay you more money.
- No, no, Coach.
I'm good.
Really.
Besides, I already
feel guilty as it is
beating your ass every night,
taking your money. (laughs)
- What are you selling?
- You, um, you think
I'm selling drugs?
- Well, I'm a high school coach.
I can't be around
certain things, bro.
- (chuckles lightly)
Come with me, man.
I want to show you something.
(gentle orchestral music)
(trunk opening)
- [Harry] What's that?
- Martin's Mobile Security Shop.
You see, a lot of the guys,
they work security, so they come
to me for the goods.
No tax, faster than Amazon.
- That's very
enterprising of you.
- Thank you.
Can I interest you
in a rape whistle? (chuckles)
Hmm?
- I gotta go.
- All right, Coach.
Good night.
(trunk closing)
- [Man] And then there's Alaska.
Alaska wants to wel-
(knocking on door)
wide open spaces.
(knocking on door)
- Fucking door!
- Can't you get it yourself?
(door opening)
Coach Sumner.
- Miss Matson.
Is your mom home?
- Uh, she's working till 11.
- May I come in?
- [Tom] Who is it?
- It's my school coach.
- Coach!
What'd you do?
- Nothing!
- What did this bitch do?
- Is there a store
close by that's open?
- There's a 7-11.
- Seven, um, you want
anything from 7-11?
- Buffalo wings would be good.
- A dozen?
- Sure.
- All right.
I'll tell you what.
Here, you take this,
get him his wings,
and if you want something
to eat or drink,
just help yourself.
- Okay.
- Yeah.
Um, oh, also, a little bottle
of ibuprofen or Tylenol.
(door closing)
Tom, I'm just gonna
be straight with ya.
I don't want you to get
the wrong idea, okay?
Nobody from the
school knows I'm here,
which is probably
for the better.
I just want to ask you,
you know, man to man,
stop hitting that kid.
You're a big guy.
You know better.
It's just a kid.
You know what would happen
if I reported any of this?
You could be in some
serious legal trouble.
- I think you ought to mind
your own fuckin'
business, Coachy.
- You're right.
Absolutely.
The whole drive over here,
I kept telling myself that,
over and over, but,
uh, but here I am.
(tense music)
- Get the fuck out of my house.
- Help me out here.
I think we can make a deal.
You promise not to
touch that kid again,
and I'll promise not to ever
come break your left arm.
- Are you threatening me?
- That depends.
Are you recording
this conversation?
- No.
(tense music)
- Then yes, I am.
- Now when you say you
want to break my left arm,
what's gonna happen
to my right arm?
- What I meant was
before I leave tonight,
I'm definitely breaking
your right arm.
It's nothing personal.
I just want to
make sure you know
I'm not blowing
smoke up your ass.
(Tom laughing)
Yeah.
I'm not that kind of person.
- (laughing) You wanna
break my right arm?
- That's what I was thinking.
- Well, come on, I dare you.
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Tom grunting)
Now, that's a binding agreement.
- Motherfucker!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here, let me get this.
(Tom whimpering)
Oh, yeah.
Frozen peas.
It's a classic.
(Tom screaming)
Put that on there
for about 20 minutes.
Maybe Scotch tape it on there
so you can drive
yourself to the ER.
That's already
starting to swell.
- Fuck you!
- Oh, Miss Matson.
All right, all right.
Here we go.
Um, hey, Tom.
I'm gonna help you rearrange
the furniture a little later.
(Tom screaming)
Oh, here.
Enjoy your wings.
(Tom groaning)
See ya at school, kiddo.
- Um, the-
- Oh, the ibuprofen.
Yeah, that's for him, too.
(Tom whimpering)
- What just happened?
- Your fuckin' soccer
coach broke my fucking arm!
- He's my wrestling coach.
- Fuckin' now you tell me!
Now I gotta go to
the fuckin' hospital!
- Do you want this?
- Yeah, give me the
fucking ibuprofen.
Shit. (whimpering)
Ow!
Fuck!
I fuckin' can't open this shit!
(door slamming)
- There you go.
Like that.
Drag to near side.
You watching, Miss Matson?
Come down, go across
to the ground.
Step in.
Why don't, Why don't
you give it a try?
How are you today, Miss Matson?
- Never slept better.
- All right.
Chris, come on.
Here we go, when she crosses.
Based on the change.
That's where you cut across.
That's it.
Yes.
That's good.
(door opening)
- Coach Sumner.
Can I have a minute?
- Right, keep working.
Saul, can you step in?
Give them two more sets.
What is it?
- Mister Sumner?
- Yeah?
- Do you know Thomas Kincade?
- I don't think so.
- Thomas Kincade filed a police
report stating that you came
to his house last night
and broke his arm.
- Oh, that Tom.
- We would like to take your
statement down at the station.
- You happy, Doctor?
Right now?
All right, Saul, take class.
- Okay, on your feet.
Rapid fire drill.
On three. (grunts)
(door opening)
(lighter flicks)
(phone vibrating)
(Tom groans)
- Hey.
Hey, Sergio.
What's up?
- What's up, Tommy?
What's going on?
- Uh, well, uh, (sighs)
I just came back from the ER.
I broke my fuckin' arm.
This motherfucker tried
to get smart with me
and I had to kick
his fucking ass,
but I broke my
arm, but I'm good.
- (chuckles) Shit.
Yo, did you think about
that thing I told you?
I could, like, solve all
your problems, yo, and,
uh, get you some cash, as well.
Almost like a genie.
- Yeah, yeah.
About that, uh,
I don't think so.
It's too risky.
- Come on, yo.
I'm talking about 10 grand
up front, cash on hand,
and the auction's
in a couple days,
and I'm, I'm really fucking dry.
(phone beeping)
- (sighs) Uh, hey, oh,
uh, uh, hol, hol, hold on.
Hold on.
(phone beeping)
Hey, hey, uh, yo, Sergio,
um, uh, I got another call.
I'll call you back later.
Well, hello.
Are you calling to apologize?
- What did you do, Tom?
- What?
- I think my coach
just got arrested.
- Ah, yeah.
Well, he committed a crime.
- What did you do?
- I called the cops.
- Please don't do this.
- Do what?
(chuckles) It's
already happened.
- Come on!
- Did you see my fuckin' arm?
- If you don't drop the charges,
I'm telling my mom
you've been fucking Lucy!
- (chuckles) Who, Who
told you that shit?
- I'm gonna tell her.
- Tell her.
I, I don't give a fuck.
- I am gonna tell her.
- I'll pick you
up in 20 minutes,
and we can go fuckin'
tell her together.
- You're so full of shit, Tom!
- (stammers) I'll pick
you up in 20 minutes,
and I'll drive you to her.
- I'll be outside.
- All right.
(tense music)
Fuck!
Fuck!
Yo, Sergio.
- Yo!
- 10 grand up front?
- As advertised, my boy.
- All right.
I'll see you in about an hour.
- Yo.
(tense music continues)
- Detective Monaghan.
- I'm still here. (sighs)
I must say, I was
a little surprised
to hear your name come out
of Mister Kincade's mouth.
- Yeah.
- I'm sorry we have to meet
under these circumstances.
I understand you two
had an altercation?
- Eh, you might call it
a business disagreement.
- Did you break his arm?
- I did.
- [Chuck] Why?
- Catia Matson, she comes
to school with bruises.
- Did you report it?
- Tried to.
- And?
- What am I looking at?
- Felony assault, 10 years.
- Okay.
- This kid, Catia, did she
talk to you about the bruises?
- She's the one that
told me the details.
- Hold on.
Jones, can you do me a favor?
Go back into the high school
and ask the front desk
to see Catia Matson.
How old is she?
- Uh, sophomore.
- She's in 10th grade.
Check her for bruises, get
her mother's information,
and bring them both down to
the station as soon as you can.
Thanks.
- How have you been?
- Oh, up and down like
anybody, I suppose.
How about you?
How have you been doing?
- Are you gonna arrest me?
- Well, let me speak
to the kid Catia,
and then I'll talk
to the mother.
So, I'd appreciate if
you could stay away
from Mister Kincade's
house for the time being
while I sort this mess out.
You think you can
do that for me?
- I got no plans
to go back there.
- Okay.
(school bell ringing)
(all chattering)
(horn honking)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Announcer] May come
in a little bit heavier.
Will that have a detrimental
effect on his performance?
There's only one way to find
out, ladies and gentlemen.
(phone vibrating)
This fight has me
on tenterhooks.
- Hello, Detective.
- Harry, did you happen to
hear from, or see Miss Matson
when you went back to school?
- I did not.
- She didn't show up
for school, and, uh,
I was just hoping you
might know something.
Okay, thanks.
- No worries.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(tense music)
- Where did she go?
(tense music continues)
(distant dog barking)
(knocking on door)
(door opening)
- What the fuck you doing here?
- I sure am glad I
caught you at home.
I'm terribly sorry
about what happened.
I'm kind of going through a
rough patch, and I lose control.
- I figured you would
be in the slammer.
- (scoffs) Well, you know
how the system is, you know.
Long investigation,
blah, blah, blah.
I mean, I'm, all that.
I was hoping you could just,
um, cut me some slack here.
- Oh, cut you some slack?
- Well-
- No, you fucked
with the wrong guy.
- Well, I am awfully sorry.
- Yeah.
Yeah, I bet you are.
- Yeah.
I mean, it's... (sighs)
All right, here's the deal.
I, I was dealing with this
whole other, uh, you know, I,
I was just hoping I could
help with the hospital bill.
- You're gonna pay for
that and a lot more.
- Yeah, how much?
- How much what?
- How much do you
want to make like none
of this ever happened?
I was thinking five grand,
um, and then, I don't know,
maybe, like, half of
the hospital bill.
- 25 grand.
- Oh, come on, Tom.
You know I'm just a
high school coach.
I don't have that kind of money.
- I'll fuckin' see you in court.
- (stammers) No, wait.
Ha, Hang on.
Maybe I can, uh, uh, I
suppose I can withdraw
from my retirement account,
but that'd be tomorrow.
It'll take a minute.
I do have the five grand here.
- I ain't dropping
any charges until
I see 25 grand.
- Oh, okay.
It's just that I, I, I can
write you a check tonight,
uh, for that five grand,
and get you the rest later.
The thing is, I
don't have a pen.
You have a pen?
- Yeah, I got a pen.
- Yeah.
- No funny business.
- No.
I really feel bad.
(door closing)
(tense music)
- Hey (chuckles)
I got three grand right
here tonight if you want it.
Just I just need that
pen if you got it.
(Tom grunts)
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Tom screaming)
I told you I didn't want to have
to break your left arm too.
(bones breaking)
(Tom screaming)
Where is she?
- I don't fucking know!
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
Come on!
- Oh, my God!
- Where'd you take her?
- Who are you?
- I'm your daughter's coach.
Do you know where
she is right now?
- Tom said she ran away again!
(Tom gasping)
- Where did you take her?
- I don't fu, I don't
fucking know! (gasping)
- [Jane] How is-
- What was she doing in
the back of your car?
- How is he supposed
to know where she is?
(Tom screaming)
Where's my daughter?
(Tom screaming)
What did you do to my daughter?
- Go on, say it.
- I'm sorry!
- You bastard!
What did you do to her?
Fucking bastard! (sobbing)
What did you do
to her? (sobbing)
(Tom grunting)
(bones snapping)
(Jane sobbing)
- It's all right.
You got eight more, Tom.
Go ahead and take your time.
(bones snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Jane sobbing)
(distant siren wailing)
- Coach.
A little bit early in the
morning for you now, isn't it?
- I need to buy a
few things from you.
- What do you need?
- Show me what you got.
(trunk opening)
(soft music)
- Voila.
- Look at that.
(tense music)
(Tom grunting)
(Tom screaming)
(whimpering) Oh, God.
Oh, my fuckin' arm's hurt, man.
I need a fuckin' doctor, man.
- Come on.
- (whimpering) Aw, aw, man.
I'm not fuckin' around.
Please!
My fuckin' arm's, I feel
like I'm gonna pass
out. (breathing heavily)
- Well, if you're gonna
be a big baby about it.
- Come on, man.
- There we go.
I got these when
I pinched a nerve.
You want one?
- Yeah, yeah.
- Do you think it matters
that they're expired?
- No, man.
I'm fuckin' about to pass out.
- Well, I was taking two or
three, and these are expired.
You think that makes
it weaker or stronger?
- (stammers) Weaker.
I'll take... (whimpering)
- Are you sure?
- (stammers) Yeah.
(mumbling indistinctly)
- You know?
Yeah, why don't we do that?
I was taking two or three.
How about, how about four?
- No, no.
Six. (gasping)
- [Harry] There you go.
(Tom groaning)
- Water.
Water.
- Oh, yeah.
Hang on.
I don't have any water.
Every dog remembers where
his bones are buried.
There you go.
(Tom grunting)
- Come on.
- Ah, that's enough.
- No, come on.
Come on, please.
Please, please. (moaning)
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
That, that's...
- No, come on! (grunts)
- You're fine.
(Tom gasping)
The whole bottle.
(engine starting)
- Come on.
(blender whirring)
(knocking on door)
(tense music)
(door knocking)
(door opening)
- Yo, Tom!
What the fuck, dawg?
You look like shit, bro.
(Tom grunts)
- Step back.
- Whoa.
What the fuck, Tom?
- Back the fuck up!
(both grunting)
Come on, get up.
- Tom, yo, dawg!
Yo, whoa, whoa, yo!
- Don't move.
Is anybody else here?
- No, man.
Listen, I didn't
do anything wrong.
You guys are kind of fuckin'
scaring me here. (screams)
Fuck.
- You know, Sergio,
I'm in kind of a rush.
I have a few questions.
If you answer these questions-
- Fuck, man.
- You won't get
your finger broke.
You lie to me, you will.
- (screams) Yo.
(breathing heavily)
Hey, man.
Tom, what the fuck is this, yo?
Tom, what is going on, man?
(Tom grunts)
- Tom brought you
a girl named Catia.
Where is she?
- Yo, you can't do this, man.
You, I'm not gonna show you.
Cops can't do this! (screams)
This is excessive force, man!
(bones cracking)
(Sergio screams)
Fuck!
- Yeah.
Where is she?
- Fuck, man!
She's long gone, all right?
(bones cracking)
(Sergio screaming)
Okay, she's in Las Vegas.
She's in Las Vegas.
- Why Vegas?
- (gasps) I don't know.
I don't, I don't,
I don't know.
I don't know.
- Who are they?
- Ah!
Stop!
- Who are they?
- Stop!
- Look, man.
I'm just a recruiter.
I take them to Barstow,
and then they do the rest.
- What, the-
(Sergio screaming)
Who's they?
- Fuck!
Rich Barker, man, and his
boss, Mister Remington!
They, they go to the
Pennyhouse Casino.
That's where the auction's at.
I was there this
morning, all right?
That's all I know!
What are you doing?
What the fuck is this, man?
- This is how we do it.
- (screaming) No, man!
I didn't do it!
- Did you touch her?
- What do you mean,
did I touch her?
Yeah, I got her in the car.
- Did you rape her?
- No, man.
I wouldn't fuck with
the merchandise.
- (grunting) Where did you
keep her when she was here?
(bones snapping)
(Sergio screaming)
- Okay! (choking)
Behind the TV!
Over there behind
the TV! (gasping)
Oh, fuck! (gasping)
(tense music)
(Sergio coughing)
- What's the code, Sergio?
What's the fucking code, Sergio?
- Five-three-four-seven, man.
(device beeping)
(lock clicks)
(Sergio screams)
(Sergio grunting)
(suspenseful music)
No. (choking)
(door opening)
(both groaning)
No, no! (breathing heavily)
No.
(door opening)
(suspenseful music)
(phone vibrating)
- Yeah?
- Mister Sumner, this
is Detective Monaghan.
Where are you?
- I'm on the highway to Vegas.
- Why?
- Oh, I figured I'd be
spending some time in jail,
so I might as well try
my luck at blackjack.
- Where is Tom Kincade?
- I left him at
his buddy's house.
- And where is that?
- Uh, Hill Avenue, and I guess
I'll text you the address.
- I'll check on it.
Don't do anything stupid.
- All right.
Make sure you check
behind that big TV.
(suspenseful music continues)
- There's no one here.
(tense music)
How big is that?
75, 85?
I bet it's 85.
(tense music)
So, what do you think?
- I'm looking.
- Yeah, it's definitely 85.
(device beeping)
(pounding on wall)
(tense music continues)
(door opening)
- Oh, my God.
This fucking guy.
- [Harry] Yes?
- Harry, you're not
a police officer.
Please tell me you're
turning around.
- I'm sorry.
Can't do that.
- Why?
- Because I promised
not to lie to you.
I'll call you when
I get something.
But you better head to Sin City
because I'm not coming
back without her.
(Chuck grunts)
(police radio chattering)
- Ma'am, you cannot
(indistinct).
- Detective!
(grunts) Where is she?
- Las Vegas.
- Well, what, what
are we gonna do?
- I'm gonna go there.
I'll keep ya updated.
(dramatic orchestral music)
I'm sorry.
You can't go.
You're a civilian.
I promise, I'll keep you updated
with any information I get.
I'm sorry, this
could be dangerous.
(seatbelt clicking)
(sighs) Okay.
We're goin' to Vegas.
(engine starts)
(soft music)
(upbeat electronic music)
(car horn honking)
- Hello, welcome to Las Vegas
Pennyland Hotel and Casino.
Are you checking
in with us today?
- Yes, please.
- Okay, do you
have a reservation?
- I'm not that organized.
- (chuckles lightly)
Okay, no worries.
How many is in your party?
- Just myself.
- Okay.
(keyboard clacking)
Um, can you tell me how I
could, um, find out information
on the auction
here in the hotel?
- Hmm.
I haven't heard of any
auction here in the casino,
but who knows?
Maybe.
I've only been here for
three months. (chuckles)
They did have a
modern art show once.
- Um, how can I find
Mister Remington?
- One second.
John?
John, Mister, uh-
- Harry Sumner.
- Mister Sumner is wondering
where to find Mister Remington.
- Is Mister Remington
expecting you, sir?
- You can tell him I'm a
good friend of Sergio's.
See if that rings a bell.
- Just give me one moment.
(tense music)
(billiard balls clacking)
- You son of a bitch.
- Mister Remington, Mister
Sumner's here to see you.
- Oh, Mister Sumner.
Pleasure to meet you.
- Hello.
- So how would I know
this friend of yours?
- Well, it's my understanding
he works for you.
Providing certain
goods you, in turn,
sell at auction at your hotel.
- Auction?
This is a luxury hotel casino.
The only auction we had here
was five years ago, and that
was to raise money for
the local school district.
How long have you
known this Sergio?
- I've known Sergio a long time.
- Hmm.
Well, I'm sorry.
I don't know what to tell ya,
and I do have a
conference call coming up,
so if you'll excuse me.
- Okay.
Well, it's a bummer.
I was hoping to find some
good deals by going wholesale,
you know what I mean?
Maybe I'll save my money
for fish and chips.
(tense music)
(door opening)
- Harry, I need you to
stop whatever you're doing.
You need to step aside
before you break anymore laws
or get yourself hurt.
You're not a detective, Harry.
Let me do my job.
I sent the paperwork
over to Las Vegas to see
if it's good enough
to get us a warrant.
- Do not come to the casino.
Catia's not here.
- [Chuck] How could
you know that?
- Any minor would get
attention around here.
And if the cops come and
put on a dog and pony show,
Catia could vanish.
I just need more time.
Did you find Sergio?
- He's at the hospital.
Guess why.
- (chuckles lightly) I need
you to do something for me.
- What is it?
(tense music)
- So, why is this
coach so involved?
- Well, he obviously
cares about your daughter.
- But why?
It's weird, isn't it?
- I think he wants to
bring your kid home.
- She's nothing to him.
I think it's weird that an
older man is so concerned
with a young girl.
Creepy.
- Harry's daughter was
murdered four years ago.
Some scumbag took her out
on a date, drugged her,
raped her, strangled her,
left her to die in a ditch.
I think he's trying to keep
that from happening to Catia.
Where's her father, anyway?
- He left the moment
I got pregnant.
Fuckin' men.
- I rarely, if ever,
see the reverse happen
where a mother dumps her
kids off and runs away.
I mean, if she's a
meth-head or a crackhead,
it does happen, but very rare.
Are you okay?
- What happens at
these auctions?
- They sell the girls off
to the highest bidder.
- Are you serious?
- Sadly, yes.
- What happens to them?
- I don't think we should
talk about that right now.
We need to focus on
finding your daughter.
(line ringing)
- [Operator] Las Vegas
Metro Police Department,
how can I help you?
- This is LAPD Detective
Chuck Monaghan,
badge number one-zero-one-five.
I need to speak to your
human trafficking taskforce.
It's an emergency.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Rich] I ran his plates.
Clean.
- What about his credit?
- Clean.
- Hmm.
(phone vibrating)
- That's him.
Hey, man.
- Yo, uh, Rich.
What's up, bro?
You, uh, you left me,
like, five messages, man.
- Where have you been?
You need to answer the
phone when I call you.
- I was, uh, I was training
for this, this 10-miler,
bro, and, uh, I was
running down this hill,
and some dog ran in
front of me, and, uh,
I fell pretty bad, man.
But, but I'm good.
I, I think I can still run it
in, like, two months or so.
- Did you send us a guy
named Harry to the casino?
- Yeah.
Harry, yeah, sure.
- Why the fuck did you
tell him about the auction?
- Yo, hey, man.
Harry's got dough, and, like,
uh, I thought it was gonna be,
like, a referral,
and, uh, (stammers)
and, you know, maybe I could
get some of the commish, right?
- We don't work like that!
When have we done
something like that?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What if he was a cop?
- [Sergio] Harry a cop?
Nah, yo.
Harry's cool.
- Sergio, Dale Remington.
- (breathes shakily)
Mi, Mister Remington.
Ho, How are you?
- How do you know this man?
- Harry?
Um, he, he buys
girls down in Dubai.
He's just looking for
some American chicks.
- So he buys for someone else?
- Yeah, um, I actually, uh, I,
Johnny introduced me to him.
Yeah, Johnny.
Um, yeah, (stammers)
they work together, man.
They, They go way back, yo.
- Yeah, all right.
Don't ever do this
again, Sergio.
Don't ever make a move
without calling us first.
You know we have
to vet our buyers.
- Yeah.
You know, yo, I, I was
just thinking, like, uh-
- That's your problem.
Don't think, Sergio.
Just do.
(Sergio breathing heavily)
- Not bad.
- Yo, I'm gonna get, like,
immunity for this, right,
and, uh, I'm gonna need,
I'm gonna need, like,
protection, man, 'cause, yo,
Mister Remington and, and,
and Rich, they know
everybody inside.
And, like, hey, man, I could
end up dead in the shower.
You, you know how it goes.
- Let's see what we can do.
(Sergio groans)
- Don't forget about me!
Shit, you got to hear his story.
What about mine?
I got my arms broken!
My fingers!
Took you long enough.
Come on.
(tense music)
- You need to let
this one go, Dale.
We're good for tonight.
Plenty of fuckable girls.
- Nobody cares about how
hot the girls are anymore.
This is a global economy
that needs affordable labor
to survive.
We gotta move away from brides,
start thinking wholesale.
- So what do we do now?
- Oh, I got a few ideas.
- Mister Sumner!
Rich Barker, personal
assistant to Mister Remington.
- Nice to meet you.
- Mister Remington
would like to know
if you can join him for
dinner at six p.m. tonight?
I've upgraded your
accommodations.
You are now in suite 4901.
Good luck.
- Thanks, Rich.
(tense music)
- [Chuck] So, how'd you
meet this Tom guy anyway?
- The question is, why
do I keep doing this?
- Doing what?
- Trying to find a
father figure for Catia.
She's so difficult.
- We're gonna find her.
- What is he trying to do?
- Harry?
- [Chuck] Probably
something really stupid.
(tense music)
- Mister Sumner.
- Mister Remington.
- Please.
- [Harry] Thank you.
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator door closes)
- I'd like to apologize for
the miscommunication earlier.
Needed to verify.
- Of course.
You talked to Sergio?
- He explained everything.
- Did he tell you that I tried
to buy directly from him?
- Then why didn't you?
- He said no.
Apparently, loyalty
comes before profits.
Said it was unethical.
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator door opens)
- That's good to know.
Now, you have a full bar in
each room, hors d'oeuvres,
fully stocked refrigerator,
all complimentary, of course.
And by the way, there are
no security cameras anywhere
on the floor, nor were there
any cameras in the elevator.
The auction will start
at 11 p.m. promptly,
all 100% virtual, and, uh,
I should say that once
you leave the room
after the auction starts, you
will not be allowed back in.
The winning bidders
can collect their lot
at a location disclosed
at the end of the auction.
Payment will be expected
in cash fully, and also,
the auction fee at the
time and place of delivery.
Do you have any questions?
- No.
This is a big upgrade from the
sketchy places I've been to.
- Yes, we pride
ourselves on excellence.
That's why I've been in
business for a strong 10 years.
- Unbelievable.
- Oh, yes.
Understand you know Johnny?
- No.
- Johnny McCoy?
- Johnny?
- Hmm.
He used to do Sergio's job.
- (stammers) Recruiting?
- Yes, he was very good at it.
Unfortunately, I
had to let him go.
He was roughing up
the merchandise.
I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Enjoy the show.
(tense music)
(line ringing)
(distant siren wailing)
(phone vibrating)
- Do you know where
she is, Harry?
- Not yet.
I need more time.
(Chuck groans)
- Harry, this is Las
Vegas Metro Police Chief,
Linda Michaels.
I know you're knee-deep in
this, but at this moment,
we need to take over.
Listen, I need you to
quietly leave the hotel
and meet my men
across the street.
We will debrief you as
soon as you get here.
- I'm not doing that.
- What?
- Chief Micheals, I
won't miss this auction.
- You will not miss it.
One of my men will double
for you at the auction.
That's why we need you
here as soon as possible.
- No, it's gotta be me.
- Detective, you have
no jurisdiction here.
- I personally sat
across from Remington.
I've talked to Rich.
They know my face.
They know my voice.
Chuck, (grunts)
will you take me off
this stupid speakerphone?
- I understand
your concerns here,
but we need to take
over from here on.
- Chuck, take me off the
speakerphone or I'm hanging up.
- Harry, you need
to listen to her.
It's their operation now.
- Is anyone listening?
- No.
- It was them, Chuck.
- [Chuck] What?
- Johnny McCoy was
not dating Jen.
- McCoy?
- He was just a recruiter
for Remington, like Sergio.
- [Chuck] Holy shit.
- I'm gonna kill them.
- Harry!
- Kill Remington, and
I'm gonna kill Rich.
And I don't care if I spend
the rest of my life in prison.
Make sure you put me
next to good old Johnny
when you take me in.
- Harry Harry!
- Yeah.
- Think of Catia.
Where is she?
(tense music)
This fucking guy.
- Who is this asshole?
- Coach Sumner?
I mean, Harry Sumner?
We call him Coach.
- What is his rank?
- [Jane] His rank?
- Excuse me, ma'am, but
you need to step outside.
You can't keep-
- He's trying to
find my daughter,
and you're worried
about his rank?
If you can't do
anything to find her,
then get the hell
out of his way.
- Jane, I understand
how you feel,
and I promise I'll
do anything I can
to get your daughter
back, but I need you
to please step outside.
- I'm gonna take her
to get some food.
I'll be right back.
If I hear from Harry,
I'll let you know.
- I'm not gonna sit
around and wait for you.
- Give me five minutes.
- Good evening, sir.
May I swipe your card, please?
(device beeps)
Fifth floor, suite five.
The room will be
unlocked for you,
but if you choose to
exit, there's no re-entry.
(elevator bell dinging)
Thank you, sir.
(elevator door closing)
(tense music)
(tense music continues)
(upbeat rock music)
(upbeat rock music continues)
- Baby, I will
make you my friend.
Athens will love you.
She's going to be mine!
That's right.
Fucking Trig is going to
take her back to Athens!
(upbeat rock music continues)
Come on.
- Fuck.
- Come on!
Let's see how much you have.
Come on, come on, come on!
(upbeat rock music continues)
Vi, Vitz V-T.
East, Age, V,
Vee-ta,
Vintage Aston.
Vintage Aston 22.
(tense music)
(phone vibrating)
- What's going on, Harry?
- You need to find
an old Aston Martin
parked in the casino lot.
- Are you at the auction?
- It's not what you think.
It's just on a TV screen.
Catia's not here.
There's nobody here.
I'm all alone in a room
without any windows.
I don't know if everyone's in
different places or if they're
on the same floor.
They have Catia listed as,
uh, "Sonya" in the auction,
and this, this bastard keeps
outbidding me every time.
- What do you mean
bidding, Harry?
What are you doing?
- Well, what am
I supposed to do?
- What are you doing for money?
- Just find an old Aston
Martin in the parking lot,
or call the front desk,
tell them it's being towed.
I need this prick out of here.
I need it now.
- What color is the car?
- I don't know.
I just know it's vintage.
It should be easy to spot.
- Let me get back to you.
- Anything?
- No.
I'm looking, but I don't
see any classics at all.
Mostly sports cars.
- Do they have an
underground parking garage?
- No, this is their
only parking structure.
- You said an Aston
Martin, right?
- A classic.
- No, nothing.
As a matter of fact, there's
only one Aston Martin
in the entire
structure, but it's new.
It's a 22 Vantage.
- What did you say?
- Aston Martin Vantage.
- He said, "Vintage," but
he meant, maybe, "Vantage."
- [Officer] I bet
that's your car.
(phone vibrating)
- Speak!
- Mr. Jung?
This is Dale Remington.
I just got a phone call from
Las Vegas Police Department
informing me that your car
is about to be impounded
from the hotel parking
lot over a warrant?
- A warrant?
That makes no sense.
- Well, I need you to take
care of this immediately.
As you can understand, we
cannot afford any risks.
- Can you tell them
to wait, fucker?
- No, I don't have them on
the phone at the moment.
I just got a phone call
from the front desk.
We will see you in
four weeks, sir.
- Motherfucker!
Fuck!
(speaking foreign language)
Fuck!
You can have her, bitch!
Cunt!
- Thanks, Chuck.
(tense music)
(intense music)
Fuck! (breathing heavily)
(elevator bell dinging)
- Can I help you, sir? (grunts)
(suspenseful music)
- Where is she?
(Dale grunting)
(bottles clattering)
Where is she?
(glass shattering)
(Dale grunting)
(Dale gasping)
The girl from the auction,
Sonya, where is she?
- Mister Sumner, I'm
sorry you didn't win
your first auction,
but what you're doing is
completely inappropriate, sir!
- Are you talking to me about
inappropriate, you cocksucker?
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
- I don't know who she is!
I need a stock number.
Rich takes care
of all deliveries.
(bone snapping)
(Dale screams)
Why are you doing this?
(bone snapping)
(Dale screaming)
(glass shattering)
(Dale groaning)
- I'm just the messenger, Dale,
'cause your boy Johnny sent me.
- I don't know what the
hell you're talking about!
- You abandoned him in jail
four years ago, you remember?
- I paid that goddamn
son of a bitch off!
- Apparently not enough.
He's got bigger
friends than you now.
He sold you out to my boss,
and my boss sold you out
to the Feds.
- Fuck!
You tell that Johnny he's dead!
He won't last a day out
there without my protection!
(zip ties rasping)
(Dale groaning)
- Hasta la vista, Vegas.
(trunk lid closes)
- Las Vegas Airport, hangar 12.
Six-seven-four Skylight Lane.
- Got it.
- [Chuck] I'll meet you there.
- Okay, people.
Las Vegas Airport.
No private planes take
off until I clear it.
No cars, trucks leave the
airport until I clear it.
We got one shot at this.
Let's go, let's go!
(distant dog barking)
(tense music)
(fence clattering)
(knocking on door)
(door knocking)
- What's up?
- I was not expecting this.
- What?
- I'm here to get Sonya.
- Who?
- Sonya.
Stock 9-10.
Plans change.
I'm here to-
- Hey, hey, hey.
You can't just
come in here, man.
Hey, get the fuck out of here.
- Who the fuck is this?
- I don't know.
- What the hell time is it?
- What the fuck is
wrong with you, old man?
- 1:30 a.m.
- 1:30?
You were supposed
to drop this girl
at the buyer's a
half an hour ago.
- What girl?
- 9-10
Sonya.
Look, he called you
twice, numb-nuts.
You only have one job,
or was the fight so good?
- Nah, I, I wasn't...
All right, I was
watching the fight,
but I haven't gotten a
call or a text all day.
Did he call you?
- No.
- I had this phone on
me since this morning.
I even printed up the schedule.
I've got all the names here.
So what happened?
- This is what happened.
This shit.
That's what happened.
Just bring her here
so I can leave.
- I don't know
who you are, Jack.
- I'm the guy they hired
to fix your fuck-up.
If you have an issue with
that, talk to Dale Remington
in the morning.
- Uh, I'm just gonna call Rich.
- No, I'll call him.
You go get her.
- Go on, I'll follow you
so you don't get lost.
- What'd you say?
- If this girl isn't
across town in 20 minutes,
we lose $200,000, and I'll make
sure Dale knows who and why.
- Do it.
Just take him in.
Do it.
You better be legit, man.
(tense music)
(door opening)
(dramatic music)
- Which one?
Is that her?
- You, come over here.
(chains clinking)
This is it.
- 9-10
Yeah, that's her.
- This is it.
- Coach?
Yeah.
- Come on, just-
- Do you know him?
- What's going on?
- Come with me.
Just come.
- Whoa, whoa, hold on.
- Was this you?
- No.
Let's-
- Was this you, motherfucker?
- What's going on?
- Why did you do this?
- What the fuck
is wrong with you?
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
- Catia, come on.
Come on, come on, everybody.
Everyone, come on.
Let's go.
- Come on, let's go.
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go.
- [Harry] You're all okay.
It's time to go.
You ready?
- Hey, you said one girl.
- Plans changed.
It's all of them now.
- What do you mean,
it's all of them now?
- You didn't get my text?
- No, I didn't get your te...
In fact, who the fuck would
give you my number, man?
- You guys and your text.
- Where's Roy at?
- Roy was detained.
(door opening)
(tense music)
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what
the fuck is going on here?
- This guy, he just shows
up out of the fucking ether.
He tells me Dale
changed the plans.
- Get 'em the fuck out of here.
I'll handle this.
- [James] Come here.
- I'm supposed to
get these girls
boarded on a plane immediately.
- Hold on.
- Remington okayed it.
He wanted to make sure the
pictures matched the, I mean,
you know, it was just,
just so he can be sure.
- He's not answering.
- [Harry] Yeah, he's
probably not going to.
- Yeah, why not?
- Well, it's just, gosh,
shit like this happens
all the time.
He's, uh, he's
detained by the police.
Sorry.
- What?
- Yeah.
Yeah, your guy Johnny,
he, uh, fucked all y'all.
- Johnny fucked us?
- Yeah.
Turned you in to the FBI.
In fact, they're waiting for
you right now at the casino.
Sergio, he's also in custody.
This was all Johnny's idea.
- Johnny sold us to the FBI?
Shit, that's a fucking
crazy story, man.
I've known Johnny
most of my life.
He's had a million
chances to fuck me over,
yet he never did.
- Well, you know what they say.
- Do you know why
he's in prison?
- Yeah, 'cause he raped
and murdered a girl.
- He didn't do shit.
- What?
- He fucked her.
He brought her to me.
She woke up too early,
started a fuckin' riot,
so I had to pull over
and squeeze her throat.
Johnny took the
whole hit for me.
Don't you watch the
news, Mister Sumner?
- You killed her.
- I know you.
I've seen your picture.
You're the dad!
- So let me understand this.
My daughter wakes up, tied
up in the back of a van,
and because she loses it
and gets a little upset,
you kill her because of that?
Well, did she scream?
Was she afraid?
Was she in fear for her life?
Does any of this sound
irrational to you?
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(Harry grunting)
(Harry grunting)
(suspenseful orchestral music)
- Die, motherfucker.
(gun firing)
(Rich grunts)
(body thudding)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Harry!
Don't do it.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(siren whooping)
(all chattering)
(police radio chattering)
- Harry.
- What?
- Thanks to this, we
found several girls.
Great job.
Very ballsy.
We got a problem, though.
No Dell Remington anywhere.
(keys jangling)
- Check the trunk of my car.
- What?
- Oh, I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
You're so brave.
Got your mom now.
Way to go.
(dramatic music)
(Dale screaming)
- Holy shit.
(Dale grunting)
I'm guessing you're
Dale Remington.
(Dale groans)
(Chuck laughs)
(upbeat music)
(all cheering)
- All right.
(all groaning)
Nice move.
All right, next.
Yeah.
(all cheering)
(all groaning)
(hands thumping on floor)
(indistinct)
Come up.
Come up.
That's it.
- Yeah!
Whoo!
Yeah!
Whoo!
- We don't do that.
- I just Ronda
Rousey-ed his butt!
- Why don't you act
like you've won before?
(Catia laughs)
Nice move.
Way to go, champ.
(light orchestral music)
- Hey, Harry.
- What's the news?
Spill it.
- It's Johnny McCoy.
- He didn't get out, did he?
- Yeah, killed in
his cell last night.
- (chuckles lightly) No shit.
- Word is Dale Remington had
a contract out on Johnny.
- That's one less thing
for me to think about.
That guy's been living
rent-free in my head
for far too long.
- Well.
Hey, uh, might be too soon,
but if you're not busy,
I got a tough case
down at the office,
and I wouldn't mind running
some thoughts by you.
Maybe tomorrow?
- Maybe.
- You got good instincts.
It's good to see you, Harry.
- All right, man.
(light orchestral music)
(light orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(gentle orchestral music)
(wind whooshing)
(soft guitar music)
(birds chirping)
(soft music)
(girls laughing)
(waves crashing)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Man] You gave the order.
(Nancy giggles)
(Ron whispers indistinctly)
- Let me watch.
- Come on.
It's okay.
- No, stop it.
Stop it.
(grunts) Get off!
I said friends only!
- Hey!
No means no, pal.
- Yo, watch the movie, old man.
- (scoffs) Fucking jerk.
- Where are you going?
Hey!
Yo, sit down!
Bitch!
(phone vibrating)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Hey, Cassanova.
- Do we have a fucking problem?
- I don't have a problem.
Apparently, you have
a hearing problem.
Have a good night, pal.
- Yo, I feel like you're
trying to fuck with me.
- No, I'm not trying
to fuck with you.
I just want to get home.
You should do the same.
(switchblade clicks)
(both grunting)
(suspenseful orchestral music)
(popcorn scatters)
(both grunting)
(Harry mumbles indistinctly)
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
(bone snapping)
(Ron screaming)
You might want to
take six months
before you jerk off
unless you're a lefty.
(both grunting)
Fuck.
(bone snapping)
See, now you can't
jerk off anymore.
I hope you have friends.
(Ron grunting)
You always take
no for an answer.
If someone says no,
you back off, okay?
- Okay, okay!
(Ron whimpering)
Ronald, you have
health insurance?
- [Ron] Yeah.
- Do you know where
the closest ER is?
- [Ron] Yeah.
- Do you need a ride there?
- [Ron] No.
- Can you drive yourself?
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
(Ron grunting)
(microwave beeping)
Oh.
Hey, hon.
Um, I saw you called earlier,
but I was at an old movie
and I didn't want to pick up
and be that guy. (chuckles)
Um, but here I am
calling you back anyway.
Hey, I've been
wanting to tell ya,
one of my boys made
it to the Olympics.
I get to go back as
a coach this time.
I know, it's really
something else, huh?
All right.
Well, call me back anytime.
Um, let's get lunch.
Um, it's your dad, by the way.
(phone vibrating)
Hi, honey.
Did you get my voicemail?
- Harry Sumner?
This is Chuck Monaghan.
I'm a detective with the Los
Angeles Police Department.
I'm the one that called
you a couple of hours ago
from your daughter's phone.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Why do you have
my daughter's phone?
- I'm sorry, Mister Sumner.
Your daughter's phone was
found at a crime scene.
She's in serious
condition at the hospital.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(EKG beeping)
(nurses chattering)
The man that did
this to your daughter
was just taken into custody.
We got him.
The name's Johnny McCoy.
Do you know him?
Does that name sound familiar?
- No. (sighs)
- We think he might have
been dating your daughter.
I'll give you a minute.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(EKG beeping loudly)
(all chattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gavel banging)
- Mister McCoy, I find you to
be a cold and cynical person,
and I can only hope that
for the rest of your life,
you will think of
Jennifer Sumner
and what you took from her.
I hope you will think
about the family
that she will never have,
of the dreams she
will never achieve,
of the children she
will never get to raise.
You are a danger to society,
and we need to keep predators
like you from harming the
Jennifer Sumners of the world.
For the crime of
kidnapping and murder
in the second degree,
I hereby sentence you
to spend the rest of your life
in a California State Prison.
Goodbye, Mister McCoy.
Please remove Mister
McCoy from the courtroom.
(all chattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(glass thuds)
(phone vibrating)
(distant siren wailing)
- Yeah?
- [Chuck] Mister Sumner,
I just got off the clock,
and I just wanted to
see how you were doing.
- I'm fine.
- [Chuck] I know you
refused counseling,
but I'd like to encourage
you to talk to someone.
- No need.
Justice was served, right?
- [Chuck] It certainly doesn't
feel like that way, does it?
- Well, you did a
good job, Detective.
That's, uh, that's
all you can ask.
- [Chuck] I'm not
sure why I called ya.
I'm probably just
making it worse.
- Uh, have a great
life, Detective.
Thank you for all your
all of your hard work.
- [Chuck] Goodbye, sir.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(all chattering)
(school bell ringing)
(upbeat rock music)
(wrestlers grunting)
(both grunting)
- All right.
Okay.
(indistinct)
(hands clap)
Reset.
Let's go again.
Come on, now.
(wrestlers grunting)
(upbeat rock music continues)
(both grunting)
Come on!
All right.
Break.
(Catia grunts)
- (breathing heavily)
What'd you think?
- I think you should
consider track.
- So, like, I need more
stamina or something?
- More like track
instead of wrestling.
(school bell ringing)
(keyboard clacking)
Shit.
- Coach Sumner?
- What is it, Miss Matson?
- Can I talk to you?
- Yeah, what?
- Well, I was thinking
that I don't want to train
with all the weak links anymore.
- Uh, the weak links?
- Yeah.
I want to train with
Esparza or Harris
so I can really be challenged.
- Why would I want those
boys to be training
with some someone your size?
Just using your logic here.
- Well, then how am I
supposed to get better?
- Maybe just rethink your
extracurricular activities.
Do it for the team.
Or try out for track.
A lot of girls on
the track team.
- (scoffs) Wow.
(keyboard clacking)
Do you have to be a sexist
pig like all of 'em?
At least look down while
you're taking a shit!
- (chuckles) What?
- Yeah.
Everyone looks at
their shit, right?
You can at least look at me
when you're dumping on me!
- Uh-huh.
- You know what?
Screw this.
And screw you!
(frame clattering)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(both grunting)
(upbeat rock music)
- Come on, Daddy.
Bring it.
(both grunting)
- You got cocky.
Get up!
You okay, Coach?
- (groans) Yeah, just
give me a minute.
- No, you're done.
- I said I need a minute.
- And I said you're done.
- I pay you for an hour.
It's, it's only
been a half an hour.
- No, no, no.
You pay me per hour.
It doesn't mean I gotta whoop
your ass for the full hour.
- Eh.
- What kind of
person would I be?
- Well, let me help you off
your high horse, Princess.
You're a good for nothing
nobody. (breathing heavily)
- Ooh, I likey when
you talk dirty to me.
- Oh, yeah.
You're a loser from a long
line of losers. (chuckles)
- Jab, jab.
Jab.
One, two.
One, two.
One, two, jab.
Up here.
One, two.
Good.
Good.
- You're a has been
if there ever was.
- [Martin] Nice!
- (chuckles) Yeah.
(distant dog barking)
(crowd cheering)
- Hi, Mom.
- Hey, baby.
Why don't you come sit with us?
- Uh, no, thank you.
- Did you get me
something to eat?
- No.
- (chuckles) Babe, she
just home from school.
- There's a fuckin'
Pollo Loco, like,
two blocks from
her fucking school!
- Babe, she's tired.
- I'm fuckin' starvin'!
- What, your little
legs don't work?
(door slamming)
- What the fuck did I say?
(door opening)
- Have you ever
heard of knocking?
- Um, hey, uh, why
do you always have
to talk to me like that?
- Don't touch me.
- I'm talking to you.
- What?
- You know none of this shit
is, well, for free, right?
(chuckles) You ought to be
nicer to me once in a while.
- Or what?
- (chuckles) Jeez.
I swear, if I was your daddy-
- But you're not, okay?
Because my mom would never marry
a pathetic loser like- (gasping)
- [Tom] Watch your
fucking mouth!
(Tom grunts)
Bitch!
- What the fuck happened?
- He just hit me!
- You fuckin' sucker punched me!
- Because you hit me first!
Twice!
Mom, he can't be doing this!
I'm gonna call the cops on you!
- You hit my daughter?
- I was just trying to talk to
her and she's fucking cussing
at me in my own fucking house!
- This is not a house.
We don't even own milk!
- Well, if you don't
fucking like it,
you can get the
fuck out of here!
- I will!
- Tom!
- That goes for you too, bitch!
- What did I do?
- Fucking teach this bitch
some fucking manners!
Shit!
- What did you do, Catia?
- What did I do?
(door slamming)
- Stop picking fights with Tom.
How many times have I told you?
Why are you doing this to me?
- Do you think I like
living like this?
- Do you think I do?
- Well, I don't see you
doing anything about it.
- What do you want
me to do, Catia?
I'm 45 and I don't even
have a high school diploma.
What am I supposed to do?
- We'll, we'll,
we'll figure it out.
I can work.
I'll work.
- Catia, I need you to focus
on finishing high school
and getting along with Tom.
I don't want you
to have the same-
- No.
No, Mommy, you don't get it.
You're just waiting for...
You know what?
Never mind.
If you want to stay,
stay, but I'm out of here.
- Oh, God.
Not again.
I don't have time
for your drama.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Good night, Coach.
- Good night, now.
(Harry breathing heavily)
- You all right?
- Yeah, fine.
- Hey, I'm just making
sure I don't have
to call the paramedics.
- Call me when
you're 57, you prick.
Tell me how your knees feel.
- (laughs) Fair enough.
Well, I'll be happy to beat
that ass some more
tomorrow night.
- (chuckles) Yeah, fuck you.
- [Martin] Good night.
- Good night, now.
(soft music)
(Catia breathes shakily)
Is that you, Miss Matson?
- (sniffles) What do you want?
- What's in that big bag?
- It's a dead body.
- Unusual.
Whose body is it?
- It's my mom's boyfriend.
His name is Tom,
and he's a dickhead.
- Well, then I guess
he had it coming.
- Yeah. (sighs)
I'm gonna dump him
by the LA River,
then I'm hitchhiking
up to Alaska.
Are you heading that
way, by any chance?
'Cause if you're not,
you can just leave.
I've had enough of
men for one day.
- Did you eat dinner?
I've been doing
this a long time.
Everybody's parents
are a pain in the ass.
- (sighs) She always
blames me for everything.
Everything I do is
always my fault,
and then she never believes me.
Like, no matter what I say.
And if I complain, I
get a fist on the face.
What am I supposed to do?
- Well, I think you ought
to try and lie more.
- Lie?
- Sometimes you have to tell
people what they want to hear.
When you rub their
ego a little bit
and you're no longer
a threat, and, um,
their shield tends to come down.
You know, at that
point, then you can try
and make 'em see
your point of view.
You can also avoid confrontation
altogether if you just,
you know, lie a little.
Maybe don't go in
all confrontational
right off, right?
That never works.
- Yeah.
I guess.
- Where's your real dad?
- I never met him.
I never really wanted to.
(straw slurping)
I just can't wait
to be an adult just
to do whatever the
hell I want, you know?
- Yeah, except when
you're an adult,
you don't have time to do all
the things you want to do,
so there's that.
- Who's that girl
in the picture?
- What picture?
- The one on your desk.
She's pretty.
- Ah, that's Jenny, my daughter.
- Where does she go?
- She no longer goes to school.
She died.
- I'm sorry, I knocked
her picture over.
Coach, also, I
wanted to ask you.
Do you think I could stay
over at your place tonight?
- What?
- Sleep over?
- No, of course not. (chuckles)
- Why not?
- I could give you a whole list.
- Top three?
- Well, you're, uh, what, 16?
I'm 57.
Uh, you're a student, I'm
a coach at your school.
Uh, and we're not even related.
It's not appropriate.
Look, listen, kid, I, I gotta
go now, and, um, you know,
the way I see it,
I got two choices.
I can drop you at your
house, or I can drop you
at the police station where
you can file a police report,
which is what I suggest.
So pick one.
- I can't believe it.
Thanks, I guess.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(engine revving)
- The last thing you want to
do is to pick a fight with one
of these people.
- We have a legal obligation
to report any suspicions
of abuse, don't we?
- Is he sexually abusing her?
- Not that she mentioned.
- Sounds more like a domestic
issue between the parents.
(Harry sighs)
Harry, I know doing the
right thing feels good
at the beginning, and we can
go ahead and submit a report,
but if you end up in court,
then everyone knows your
name and where you live.
- So because you're
a chicken shit,
she has to duck jabs at home?
- Do you want to file a report?
Go ahead.
Then come back and
see me in a month.
Let me know how it went.
Pick your fights, Harry.
- I will "Doctor."
Doctor.
Really, I never got that.
- I have a Ph.D. in English.
- And that makes you a doctor?
- I earned the title.
- I wouldn't even let
you check my temperature.
(upbeat rock music)
(wrestlers grunting)
Gets under there.
(all cheering)
All right, next.
Give it a shot.
(all shouting)
(all chattering)
I had to mark you
down as absent.
What happened?
- I quit, remember?
- You didn't have to quit.
- You're the one
that told me to.
- But I didn't think you
were actually gonna go do it.
Usually people just
ignore my advice.
(Catia scoffs)
What happened to your face?
- Well, um, let me see.
Let's break this down.
Um, last night, you took
me back to Tom's house,
and what do you
think happened there?
- But I gave you a choice.
- And who are you
to give me choices?
(Catia sucks teeth)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(upbeat rock music)
- Good.
One, two.
Jab.
(both grunting)
Tap!
- Ah, fuck you!
- Tap!
I'm gonna break your arm.
- (groans) Ah, break it, then.
- Tap!
- No!
(Harry screams)
What the hell's wrong
with you, you pussy?
I had a plan.
- The fuck I had a plan, man.
I should've broke your arm.
Taking pain doesn't
make you better, man.
It makes you fucking stupid.
- Come on, you ready?
Let's go.
Come on.
I'm ready.
- Fuck off!
- Aw, come on.
You done?
- Go home.
- That's all you got?
Twat too sore?
Come on, man.
Bring it.
Bring it.
You got any more?
Fuck you.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- What's up?
- What's up, man?
Yeah.
Yeah, I got it.
You have a good night, man.
Coach! (chuckles)
What'chu doing here, man?
- What's going on?
- Aw, nothing.
You know, just making,
uh, some disposable cash.
- You need money?
I'll pay you more money.
- No, no, Coach.
I'm good.
Really.
Besides, I already
feel guilty as it is
beating your ass every night,
taking your money. (laughs)
- What are you selling?
- You, um, you think
I'm selling drugs?
- Well, I'm a high school coach.
I can't be around
certain things, bro.
- (chuckles lightly)
Come with me, man.
I want to show you something.
(gentle orchestral music)
(trunk opening)
- [Harry] What's that?
- Martin's Mobile Security Shop.
You see, a lot of the guys,
they work security, so they come
to me for the goods.
No tax, faster than Amazon.
- That's very
enterprising of you.
- Thank you.
Can I interest you
in a rape whistle? (chuckles)
Hmm?
- I gotta go.
- All right, Coach.
Good night.
(trunk closing)
- [Man] And then there's Alaska.
Alaska wants to wel-
(knocking on door)
wide open spaces.
(knocking on door)
- Fucking door!
- Can't you get it yourself?
(door opening)
Coach Sumner.
- Miss Matson.
Is your mom home?
- Uh, she's working till 11.
- May I come in?
- [Tom] Who is it?
- It's my school coach.
- Coach!
What'd you do?
- Nothing!
- What did this bitch do?
- Is there a store
close by that's open?
- There's a 7-11.
- Seven, um, you want
anything from 7-11?
- Buffalo wings would be good.
- A dozen?
- Sure.
- All right.
I'll tell you what.
Here, you take this,
get him his wings,
and if you want something
to eat or drink,
just help yourself.
- Okay.
- Yeah.
Um, oh, also, a little bottle
of ibuprofen or Tylenol.
(door closing)
Tom, I'm just gonna
be straight with ya.
I don't want you to get
the wrong idea, okay?
Nobody from the
school knows I'm here,
which is probably
for the better.
I just want to ask you,
you know, man to man,
stop hitting that kid.
You're a big guy.
You know better.
It's just a kid.
You know what would happen
if I reported any of this?
You could be in some
serious legal trouble.
- I think you ought to mind
your own fuckin'
business, Coachy.
- You're right.
Absolutely.
The whole drive over here,
I kept telling myself that,
over and over, but,
uh, but here I am.
(tense music)
- Get the fuck out of my house.
- Help me out here.
I think we can make a deal.
You promise not to
touch that kid again,
and I'll promise not to ever
come break your left arm.
- Are you threatening me?
- That depends.
Are you recording
this conversation?
- No.
(tense music)
- Then yes, I am.
- Now when you say you
want to break my left arm,
what's gonna happen
to my right arm?
- What I meant was
before I leave tonight,
I'm definitely breaking
your right arm.
It's nothing personal.
I just want to
make sure you know
I'm not blowing
smoke up your ass.
(Tom laughing)
Yeah.
I'm not that kind of person.
- (laughing) You wanna
break my right arm?
- That's what I was thinking.
- Well, come on, I dare you.
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Tom grunting)
Now, that's a binding agreement.
- Motherfucker!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here, let me get this.
(Tom whimpering)
Oh, yeah.
Frozen peas.
It's a classic.
(Tom screaming)
Put that on there
for about 20 minutes.
Maybe Scotch tape it on there
so you can drive
yourself to the ER.
That's already
starting to swell.
- Fuck you!
- Oh, Miss Matson.
All right, all right.
Here we go.
Um, hey, Tom.
I'm gonna help you rearrange
the furniture a little later.
(Tom screaming)
Oh, here.
Enjoy your wings.
(Tom groaning)
See ya at school, kiddo.
- Um, the-
- Oh, the ibuprofen.
Yeah, that's for him, too.
(Tom whimpering)
- What just happened?
- Your fuckin' soccer
coach broke my fucking arm!
- He's my wrestling coach.
- Fuckin' now you tell me!
Now I gotta go to
the fuckin' hospital!
- Do you want this?
- Yeah, give me the
fucking ibuprofen.
Shit. (whimpering)
Ow!
Fuck!
I fuckin' can't open this shit!
(door slamming)
- There you go.
Like that.
Drag to near side.
You watching, Miss Matson?
Come down, go across
to the ground.
Step in.
Why don't, Why don't
you give it a try?
How are you today, Miss Matson?
- Never slept better.
- All right.
Chris, come on.
Here we go, when she crosses.
Based on the change.
That's where you cut across.
That's it.
Yes.
That's good.
(door opening)
- Coach Sumner.
Can I have a minute?
- Right, keep working.
Saul, can you step in?
Give them two more sets.
What is it?
- Mister Sumner?
- Yeah?
- Do you know Thomas Kincade?
- I don't think so.
- Thomas Kincade filed a police
report stating that you came
to his house last night
and broke his arm.
- Oh, that Tom.
- We would like to take your
statement down at the station.
- You happy, Doctor?
Right now?
All right, Saul, take class.
- Okay, on your feet.
Rapid fire drill.
On three. (grunts)
(door opening)
(lighter flicks)
(phone vibrating)
(Tom groans)
- Hey.
Hey, Sergio.
What's up?
- What's up, Tommy?
What's going on?
- Uh, well, uh, (sighs)
I just came back from the ER.
I broke my fuckin' arm.
This motherfucker tried
to get smart with me
and I had to kick
his fucking ass,
but I broke my
arm, but I'm good.
- (chuckles) Shit.
Yo, did you think about
that thing I told you?
I could, like, solve all
your problems, yo, and,
uh, get you some cash, as well.
Almost like a genie.
- Yeah, yeah.
About that, uh,
I don't think so.
It's too risky.
- Come on, yo.
I'm talking about 10 grand
up front, cash on hand,
and the auction's
in a couple days,
and I'm, I'm really fucking dry.
(phone beeping)
- (sighs) Uh, hey, oh,
uh, uh, hol, hol, hold on.
Hold on.
(phone beeping)
Hey, hey, uh, yo, Sergio,
um, uh, I got another call.
I'll call you back later.
Well, hello.
Are you calling to apologize?
- What did you do, Tom?
- What?
- I think my coach
just got arrested.
- Ah, yeah.
Well, he committed a crime.
- What did you do?
- I called the cops.
- Please don't do this.
- Do what?
(chuckles) It's
already happened.
- Come on!
- Did you see my fuckin' arm?
- If you don't drop the charges,
I'm telling my mom
you've been fucking Lucy!
- (chuckles) Who, Who
told you that shit?
- I'm gonna tell her.
- Tell her.
I, I don't give a fuck.
- I am gonna tell her.
- I'll pick you
up in 20 minutes,
and we can go fuckin'
tell her together.
- You're so full of shit, Tom!
- (stammers) I'll pick
you up in 20 minutes,
and I'll drive you to her.
- I'll be outside.
- All right.
(tense music)
Fuck!
Fuck!
Yo, Sergio.
- Yo!
- 10 grand up front?
- As advertised, my boy.
- All right.
I'll see you in about an hour.
- Yo.
(tense music continues)
- Detective Monaghan.
- I'm still here. (sighs)
I must say, I was
a little surprised
to hear your name come out
of Mister Kincade's mouth.
- Yeah.
- I'm sorry we have to meet
under these circumstances.
I understand you two
had an altercation?
- Eh, you might call it
a business disagreement.
- Did you break his arm?
- I did.
- [Chuck] Why?
- Catia Matson, she comes
to school with bruises.
- Did you report it?
- Tried to.
- And?
- What am I looking at?
- Felony assault, 10 years.
- Okay.
- This kid, Catia, did she
talk to you about the bruises?
- She's the one that
told me the details.
- Hold on.
Jones, can you do me a favor?
Go back into the high school
and ask the front desk
to see Catia Matson.
How old is she?
- Uh, sophomore.
- She's in 10th grade.
Check her for bruises, get
her mother's information,
and bring them both down to
the station as soon as you can.
Thanks.
- How have you been?
- Oh, up and down like
anybody, I suppose.
How about you?
How have you been doing?
- Are you gonna arrest me?
- Well, let me speak
to the kid Catia,
and then I'll talk
to the mother.
So, I'd appreciate if
you could stay away
from Mister Kincade's
house for the time being
while I sort this mess out.
You think you can
do that for me?
- I got no plans
to go back there.
- Okay.
(school bell ringing)
(all chattering)
(horn honking)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Announcer] May come
in a little bit heavier.
Will that have a detrimental
effect on his performance?
There's only one way to find
out, ladies and gentlemen.
(phone vibrating)
This fight has me
on tenterhooks.
- Hello, Detective.
- Harry, did you happen to
hear from, or see Miss Matson
when you went back to school?
- I did not.
- She didn't show up
for school, and, uh,
I was just hoping you
might know something.
Okay, thanks.
- No worries.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(tense music)
- Where did she go?
(tense music continues)
(distant dog barking)
(knocking on door)
(door opening)
- What the fuck you doing here?
- I sure am glad I
caught you at home.
I'm terribly sorry
about what happened.
I'm kind of going through a
rough patch, and I lose control.
- I figured you would
be in the slammer.
- (scoffs) Well, you know
how the system is, you know.
Long investigation,
blah, blah, blah.
I mean, I'm, all that.
I was hoping you could just,
um, cut me some slack here.
- Oh, cut you some slack?
- Well-
- No, you fucked
with the wrong guy.
- Well, I am awfully sorry.
- Yeah.
Yeah, I bet you are.
- Yeah.
I mean, it's... (sighs)
All right, here's the deal.
I, I was dealing with this
whole other, uh, you know, I,
I was just hoping I could
help with the hospital bill.
- You're gonna pay for
that and a lot more.
- Yeah, how much?
- How much what?
- How much do you
want to make like none
of this ever happened?
I was thinking five grand,
um, and then, I don't know,
maybe, like, half of
the hospital bill.
- 25 grand.
- Oh, come on, Tom.
You know I'm just a
high school coach.
I don't have that kind of money.
- I'll fuckin' see you in court.
- (stammers) No, wait.
Ha, Hang on.
Maybe I can, uh, uh, I
suppose I can withdraw
from my retirement account,
but that'd be tomorrow.
It'll take a minute.
I do have the five grand here.
- I ain't dropping
any charges until
I see 25 grand.
- Oh, okay.
It's just that I, I, I can
write you a check tonight,
uh, for that five grand,
and get you the rest later.
The thing is, I
don't have a pen.
You have a pen?
- Yeah, I got a pen.
- Yeah.
- No funny business.
- No.
I really feel bad.
(door closing)
(tense music)
- Hey (chuckles)
I got three grand right
here tonight if you want it.
Just I just need that
pen if you got it.
(Tom grunts)
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Tom screaming)
I told you I didn't want to have
to break your left arm too.
(bones breaking)
(Tom screaming)
Where is she?
- I don't fucking know!
(bone snapping)
(Tom screaming)
Come on!
- Oh, my God!
- Where'd you take her?
- Who are you?
- I'm your daughter's coach.
Do you know where
she is right now?
- Tom said she ran away again!
(Tom gasping)
- Where did you take her?
- I don't fu, I don't
fucking know! (gasping)
- [Jane] How is-
- What was she doing in
the back of your car?
- How is he supposed
to know where she is?
(Tom screaming)
Where's my daughter?
(Tom screaming)
What did you do to my daughter?
- Go on, say it.
- I'm sorry!
- You bastard!
What did you do to her?
Fucking bastard! (sobbing)
What did you do
to her? (sobbing)
(Tom grunting)
(bones snapping)
(Jane sobbing)
- It's all right.
You got eight more, Tom.
Go ahead and take your time.
(bones snapping)
(Tom screaming)
(Jane sobbing)
(distant siren wailing)
- Coach.
A little bit early in the
morning for you now, isn't it?
- I need to buy a
few things from you.
- What do you need?
- Show me what you got.
(trunk opening)
(soft music)
- Voila.
- Look at that.
(tense music)
(Tom grunting)
(Tom screaming)
(whimpering) Oh, God.
Oh, my fuckin' arm's hurt, man.
I need a fuckin' doctor, man.
- Come on.
- (whimpering) Aw, aw, man.
I'm not fuckin' around.
Please!
My fuckin' arm's, I feel
like I'm gonna pass
out. (breathing heavily)
- Well, if you're gonna
be a big baby about it.
- Come on, man.
- There we go.
I got these when
I pinched a nerve.
You want one?
- Yeah, yeah.
- Do you think it matters
that they're expired?
- No, man.
I'm fuckin' about to pass out.
- Well, I was taking two or
three, and these are expired.
You think that makes
it weaker or stronger?
- (stammers) Weaker.
I'll take... (whimpering)
- Are you sure?
- (stammers) Yeah.
(mumbling indistinctly)
- You know?
Yeah, why don't we do that?
I was taking two or three.
How about, how about four?
- No, no.
Six. (gasping)
- [Harry] There you go.
(Tom groaning)
- Water.
Water.
- Oh, yeah.
Hang on.
I don't have any water.
Every dog remembers where
his bones are buried.
There you go.
(Tom grunting)
- Come on.
- Ah, that's enough.
- No, come on.
Come on, please.
Please, please. (moaning)
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
That, that's...
- No, come on! (grunts)
- You're fine.
(Tom gasping)
The whole bottle.
(engine starting)
- Come on.
(blender whirring)
(knocking on door)
(tense music)
(door knocking)
(door opening)
- Yo, Tom!
What the fuck, dawg?
You look like shit, bro.
(Tom grunts)
- Step back.
- Whoa.
What the fuck, Tom?
- Back the fuck up!
(both grunting)
Come on, get up.
- Tom, yo, dawg!
Yo, whoa, whoa, yo!
- Don't move.
Is anybody else here?
- No, man.
Listen, I didn't
do anything wrong.
You guys are kind of fuckin'
scaring me here. (screams)
Fuck.
- You know, Sergio,
I'm in kind of a rush.
I have a few questions.
If you answer these questions-
- Fuck, man.
- You won't get
your finger broke.
You lie to me, you will.
- (screams) Yo.
(breathing heavily)
Hey, man.
Tom, what the fuck is this, yo?
Tom, what is going on, man?
(Tom grunts)
- Tom brought you
a girl named Catia.
Where is she?
- Yo, you can't do this, man.
You, I'm not gonna show you.
Cops can't do this! (screams)
This is excessive force, man!
(bones cracking)
(Sergio screams)
Fuck!
- Yeah.
Where is she?
- Fuck, man!
She's long gone, all right?
(bones cracking)
(Sergio screaming)
Okay, she's in Las Vegas.
She's in Las Vegas.
- Why Vegas?
- (gasps) I don't know.
I don't, I don't,
I don't know.
I don't know.
- Who are they?
- Ah!
Stop!
- Who are they?
- Stop!
- Look, man.
I'm just a recruiter.
I take them to Barstow,
and then they do the rest.
- What, the-
(Sergio screaming)
Who's they?
- Fuck!
Rich Barker, man, and his
boss, Mister Remington!
They, they go to the
Pennyhouse Casino.
That's where the auction's at.
I was there this
morning, all right?
That's all I know!
What are you doing?
What the fuck is this, man?
- This is how we do it.
- (screaming) No, man!
I didn't do it!
- Did you touch her?
- What do you mean,
did I touch her?
Yeah, I got her in the car.
- Did you rape her?
- No, man.
I wouldn't fuck with
the merchandise.
- (grunting) Where did you
keep her when she was here?
(bones snapping)
(Sergio screaming)
- Okay! (choking)
Behind the TV!
Over there behind
the TV! (gasping)
Oh, fuck! (gasping)
(tense music)
(Sergio coughing)
- What's the code, Sergio?
What's the fucking code, Sergio?
- Five-three-four-seven, man.
(device beeping)
(lock clicks)
(Sergio screams)
(Sergio grunting)
(suspenseful music)
No. (choking)
(door opening)
(both groaning)
No, no! (breathing heavily)
No.
(door opening)
(suspenseful music)
(phone vibrating)
- Yeah?
- Mister Sumner, this
is Detective Monaghan.
Where are you?
- I'm on the highway to Vegas.
- Why?
- Oh, I figured I'd be
spending some time in jail,
so I might as well try
my luck at blackjack.
- Where is Tom Kincade?
- I left him at
his buddy's house.
- And where is that?
- Uh, Hill Avenue, and I guess
I'll text you the address.
- I'll check on it.
Don't do anything stupid.
- All right.
Make sure you check
behind that big TV.
(suspenseful music continues)
- There's no one here.
(tense music)
How big is that?
75, 85?
I bet it's 85.
(tense music)
So, what do you think?
- I'm looking.
- Yeah, it's definitely 85.
(device beeping)
(pounding on wall)
(tense music continues)
(door opening)
- Oh, my God.
This fucking guy.
- [Harry] Yes?
- Harry, you're not
a police officer.
Please tell me you're
turning around.
- I'm sorry.
Can't do that.
- Why?
- Because I promised
not to lie to you.
I'll call you when
I get something.
But you better head to Sin City
because I'm not coming
back without her.
(Chuck grunts)
(police radio chattering)
- Ma'am, you cannot
(indistinct).
- Detective!
(grunts) Where is she?
- Las Vegas.
- Well, what, what
are we gonna do?
- I'm gonna go there.
I'll keep ya updated.
(dramatic orchestral music)
I'm sorry.
You can't go.
You're a civilian.
I promise, I'll keep you updated
with any information I get.
I'm sorry, this
could be dangerous.
(seatbelt clicking)
(sighs) Okay.
We're goin' to Vegas.
(engine starts)
(soft music)
(upbeat electronic music)
(car horn honking)
- Hello, welcome to Las Vegas
Pennyland Hotel and Casino.
Are you checking
in with us today?
- Yes, please.
- Okay, do you
have a reservation?
- I'm not that organized.
- (chuckles lightly)
Okay, no worries.
How many is in your party?
- Just myself.
- Okay.
(keyboard clacking)
Um, can you tell me how I
could, um, find out information
on the auction
here in the hotel?
- Hmm.
I haven't heard of any
auction here in the casino,
but who knows?
Maybe.
I've only been here for
three months. (chuckles)
They did have a
modern art show once.
- Um, how can I find
Mister Remington?
- One second.
John?
John, Mister, uh-
- Harry Sumner.
- Mister Sumner is wondering
where to find Mister Remington.
- Is Mister Remington
expecting you, sir?
- You can tell him I'm a
good friend of Sergio's.
See if that rings a bell.
- Just give me one moment.
(tense music)
(billiard balls clacking)
- You son of a bitch.
- Mister Remington, Mister
Sumner's here to see you.
- Oh, Mister Sumner.
Pleasure to meet you.
- Hello.
- So how would I know
this friend of yours?
- Well, it's my understanding
he works for you.
Providing certain
goods you, in turn,
sell at auction at your hotel.
- Auction?
This is a luxury hotel casino.
The only auction we had here
was five years ago, and that
was to raise money for
the local school district.
How long have you
known this Sergio?
- I've known Sergio a long time.
- Hmm.
Well, I'm sorry.
I don't know what to tell ya,
and I do have a
conference call coming up,
so if you'll excuse me.
- Okay.
Well, it's a bummer.
I was hoping to find some
good deals by going wholesale,
you know what I mean?
Maybe I'll save my money
for fish and chips.
(tense music)
(door opening)
- Harry, I need you to
stop whatever you're doing.
You need to step aside
before you break anymore laws
or get yourself hurt.
You're not a detective, Harry.
Let me do my job.
I sent the paperwork
over to Las Vegas to see
if it's good enough
to get us a warrant.
- Do not come to the casino.
Catia's not here.
- [Chuck] How could
you know that?
- Any minor would get
attention around here.
And if the cops come and
put on a dog and pony show,
Catia could vanish.
I just need more time.
Did you find Sergio?
- He's at the hospital.
Guess why.
- (chuckles lightly) I need
you to do something for me.
- What is it?
(tense music)
- So, why is this
coach so involved?
- Well, he obviously
cares about your daughter.
- But why?
It's weird, isn't it?
- I think he wants to
bring your kid home.
- She's nothing to him.
I think it's weird that an
older man is so concerned
with a young girl.
Creepy.
- Harry's daughter was
murdered four years ago.
Some scumbag took her out
on a date, drugged her,
raped her, strangled her,
left her to die in a ditch.
I think he's trying to keep
that from happening to Catia.
Where's her father, anyway?
- He left the moment
I got pregnant.
Fuckin' men.
- I rarely, if ever,
see the reverse happen
where a mother dumps her
kids off and runs away.
I mean, if she's a
meth-head or a crackhead,
it does happen, but very rare.
Are you okay?
- What happens at
these auctions?
- They sell the girls off
to the highest bidder.
- Are you serious?
- Sadly, yes.
- What happens to them?
- I don't think we should
talk about that right now.
We need to focus on
finding your daughter.
(line ringing)
- [Operator] Las Vegas
Metro Police Department,
how can I help you?
- This is LAPD Detective
Chuck Monaghan,
badge number one-zero-one-five.
I need to speak to your
human trafficking taskforce.
It's an emergency.
(dramatic orchestral music)
- [Rich] I ran his plates.
Clean.
- What about his credit?
- Clean.
- Hmm.
(phone vibrating)
- That's him.
Hey, man.
- Yo, uh, Rich.
What's up, bro?
You, uh, you left me,
like, five messages, man.
- Where have you been?
You need to answer the
phone when I call you.
- I was, uh, I was training
for this, this 10-miler,
bro, and, uh, I was
running down this hill,
and some dog ran in
front of me, and, uh,
I fell pretty bad, man.
But, but I'm good.
I, I think I can still run it
in, like, two months or so.
- Did you send us a guy
named Harry to the casino?
- Yeah.
Harry, yeah, sure.
- Why the fuck did you
tell him about the auction?
- Yo, hey, man.
Harry's got dough, and, like,
uh, I thought it was gonna be,
like, a referral,
and, uh, (stammers)
and, you know, maybe I could
get some of the commish, right?
- We don't work like that!
When have we done
something like that?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What if he was a cop?
- [Sergio] Harry a cop?
Nah, yo.
Harry's cool.
- Sergio, Dale Remington.
- (breathes shakily)
Mi, Mister Remington.
Ho, How are you?
- How do you know this man?
- Harry?
Um, he, he buys
girls down in Dubai.
He's just looking for
some American chicks.
- So he buys for someone else?
- Yeah, um, I actually, uh, I,
Johnny introduced me to him.
Yeah, Johnny.
Um, yeah, (stammers)
they work together, man.
They, They go way back, yo.
- Yeah, all right.
Don't ever do this
again, Sergio.
Don't ever make a move
without calling us first.
You know we have
to vet our buyers.
- Yeah.
You know, yo, I, I was
just thinking, like, uh-
- That's your problem.
Don't think, Sergio.
Just do.
(Sergio breathing heavily)
- Not bad.
- Yo, I'm gonna get, like,
immunity for this, right,
and, uh, I'm gonna need,
I'm gonna need, like,
protection, man, 'cause, yo,
Mister Remington and, and,
and Rich, they know
everybody inside.
And, like, hey, man, I could
end up dead in the shower.
You, you know how it goes.
- Let's see what we can do.
(Sergio groans)
- Don't forget about me!
Shit, you got to hear his story.
What about mine?
I got my arms broken!
My fingers!
Took you long enough.
Come on.
(tense music)
- You need to let
this one go, Dale.
We're good for tonight.
Plenty of fuckable girls.
- Nobody cares about how
hot the girls are anymore.
This is a global economy
that needs affordable labor
to survive.
We gotta move away from brides,
start thinking wholesale.
- So what do we do now?
- Oh, I got a few ideas.
- Mister Sumner!
Rich Barker, personal
assistant to Mister Remington.
- Nice to meet you.
- Mister Remington
would like to know
if you can join him for
dinner at six p.m. tonight?
I've upgraded your
accommodations.
You are now in suite 4901.
Good luck.
- Thanks, Rich.
(tense music)
- [Chuck] So, how'd you
meet this Tom guy anyway?
- The question is, why
do I keep doing this?
- Doing what?
- Trying to find a
father figure for Catia.
She's so difficult.
- We're gonna find her.
- What is he trying to do?
- Harry?
- [Chuck] Probably
something really stupid.
(tense music)
- Mister Sumner.
- Mister Remington.
- Please.
- [Harry] Thank you.
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator door closes)
- I'd like to apologize for
the miscommunication earlier.
Needed to verify.
- Of course.
You talked to Sergio?
- He explained everything.
- Did he tell you that I tried
to buy directly from him?
- Then why didn't you?
- He said no.
Apparently, loyalty
comes before profits.
Said it was unethical.
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator door opens)
- That's good to know.
Now, you have a full bar in
each room, hors d'oeuvres,
fully stocked refrigerator,
all complimentary, of course.
And by the way, there are
no security cameras anywhere
on the floor, nor were there
any cameras in the elevator.
The auction will start
at 11 p.m. promptly,
all 100% virtual, and, uh,
I should say that once
you leave the room
after the auction starts, you
will not be allowed back in.
The winning bidders
can collect their lot
at a location disclosed
at the end of the auction.
Payment will be expected
in cash fully, and also,
the auction fee at the
time and place of delivery.
Do you have any questions?
- No.
This is a big upgrade from the
sketchy places I've been to.
- Yes, we pride
ourselves on excellence.
That's why I've been in
business for a strong 10 years.
- Unbelievable.
- Oh, yes.
Understand you know Johnny?
- No.
- Johnny McCoy?
- Johnny?
- Hmm.
He used to do Sergio's job.
- (stammers) Recruiting?
- Yes, he was very good at it.
Unfortunately, I
had to let him go.
He was roughing up
the merchandise.
I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Enjoy the show.
(tense music)
(line ringing)
(distant siren wailing)
(phone vibrating)
- Do you know where
she is, Harry?
- Not yet.
I need more time.
(Chuck groans)
- Harry, this is Las
Vegas Metro Police Chief,
Linda Michaels.
I know you're knee-deep in
this, but at this moment,
we need to take over.
Listen, I need you to
quietly leave the hotel
and meet my men
across the street.
We will debrief you as
soon as you get here.
- I'm not doing that.
- What?
- Chief Micheals, I
won't miss this auction.
- You will not miss it.
One of my men will double
for you at the auction.
That's why we need you
here as soon as possible.
- No, it's gotta be me.
- Detective, you have
no jurisdiction here.
- I personally sat
across from Remington.
I've talked to Rich.
They know my face.
They know my voice.
Chuck, (grunts)
will you take me off
this stupid speakerphone?
- I understand
your concerns here,
but we need to take
over from here on.
- Chuck, take me off the
speakerphone or I'm hanging up.
- Harry, you need
to listen to her.
It's their operation now.
- Is anyone listening?
- No.
- It was them, Chuck.
- [Chuck] What?
- Johnny McCoy was
not dating Jen.
- McCoy?
- He was just a recruiter
for Remington, like Sergio.
- [Chuck] Holy shit.
- I'm gonna kill them.
- Harry!
- Kill Remington, and
I'm gonna kill Rich.
And I don't care if I spend
the rest of my life in prison.
Make sure you put me
next to good old Johnny
when you take me in.
- Harry Harry!
- Yeah.
- Think of Catia.
Where is she?
(tense music)
This fucking guy.
- Who is this asshole?
- Coach Sumner?
I mean, Harry Sumner?
We call him Coach.
- What is his rank?
- [Jane] His rank?
- Excuse me, ma'am, but
you need to step outside.
You can't keep-
- He's trying to
find my daughter,
and you're worried
about his rank?
If you can't do
anything to find her,
then get the hell
out of his way.
- Jane, I understand
how you feel,
and I promise I'll
do anything I can
to get your daughter
back, but I need you
to please step outside.
- I'm gonna take her
to get some food.
I'll be right back.
If I hear from Harry,
I'll let you know.
- I'm not gonna sit
around and wait for you.
- Give me five minutes.
- Good evening, sir.
May I swipe your card, please?
(device beeps)
Fifth floor, suite five.
The room will be
unlocked for you,
but if you choose to
exit, there's no re-entry.
(elevator bell dinging)
Thank you, sir.
(elevator door closing)
(tense music)
(tense music continues)
(upbeat rock music)
(upbeat rock music continues)
- Baby, I will
make you my friend.
Athens will love you.
She's going to be mine!
That's right.
Fucking Trig is going to
take her back to Athens!
(upbeat rock music continues)
Come on.
- Fuck.
- Come on!
Let's see how much you have.
Come on, come on, come on!
(upbeat rock music continues)
Vi, Vitz V-T.
East, Age, V,
Vee-ta,
Vintage Aston.
Vintage Aston 22.
(tense music)
(phone vibrating)
- What's going on, Harry?
- You need to find
an old Aston Martin
parked in the casino lot.
- Are you at the auction?
- It's not what you think.
It's just on a TV screen.
Catia's not here.
There's nobody here.
I'm all alone in a room
without any windows.
I don't know if everyone's in
different places or if they're
on the same floor.
They have Catia listed as,
uh, "Sonya" in the auction,
and this, this bastard keeps
outbidding me every time.
- What do you mean
bidding, Harry?
What are you doing?
- Well, what am
I supposed to do?
- What are you doing for money?
- Just find an old Aston
Martin in the parking lot,
or call the front desk,
tell them it's being towed.
I need this prick out of here.
I need it now.
- What color is the car?
- I don't know.
I just know it's vintage.
It should be easy to spot.
- Let me get back to you.
- Anything?
- No.
I'm looking, but I don't
see any classics at all.
Mostly sports cars.
- Do they have an
underground parking garage?
- No, this is their
only parking structure.
- You said an Aston
Martin, right?
- A classic.
- No, nothing.
As a matter of fact, there's
only one Aston Martin
in the entire
structure, but it's new.
It's a 22 Vantage.
- What did you say?
- Aston Martin Vantage.
- He said, "Vintage," but
he meant, maybe, "Vantage."
- [Officer] I bet
that's your car.
(phone vibrating)
- Speak!
- Mr. Jung?
This is Dale Remington.
I just got a phone call from
Las Vegas Police Department
informing me that your car
is about to be impounded
from the hotel parking
lot over a warrant?
- A warrant?
That makes no sense.
- Well, I need you to take
care of this immediately.
As you can understand, we
cannot afford any risks.
- Can you tell them
to wait, fucker?
- No, I don't have them on
the phone at the moment.
I just got a phone call
from the front desk.
We will see you in
four weeks, sir.
- Motherfucker!
Fuck!
(speaking foreign language)
Fuck!
You can have her, bitch!
Cunt!
- Thanks, Chuck.
(tense music)
(intense music)
Fuck! (breathing heavily)
(elevator bell dinging)
- Can I help you, sir? (grunts)
(suspenseful music)
- Where is she?
(Dale grunting)
(bottles clattering)
Where is she?
(glass shattering)
(Dale grunting)
(Dale gasping)
The girl from the auction,
Sonya, where is she?
- Mister Sumner, I'm
sorry you didn't win
your first auction,
but what you're doing is
completely inappropriate, sir!
- Are you talking to me about
inappropriate, you cocksucker?
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
- I don't know who she is!
I need a stock number.
Rich takes care
of all deliveries.
(bone snapping)
(Dale screams)
Why are you doing this?
(bone snapping)
(Dale screaming)
(glass shattering)
(Dale groaning)
- I'm just the messenger, Dale,
'cause your boy Johnny sent me.
- I don't know what the
hell you're talking about!
- You abandoned him in jail
four years ago, you remember?
- I paid that goddamn
son of a bitch off!
- Apparently not enough.
He's got bigger
friends than you now.
He sold you out to my boss,
and my boss sold you out
to the Feds.
- Fuck!
You tell that Johnny he's dead!
He won't last a day out
there without my protection!
(zip ties rasping)
(Dale groaning)
- Hasta la vista, Vegas.
(trunk lid closes)
- Las Vegas Airport, hangar 12.
Six-seven-four Skylight Lane.
- Got it.
- [Chuck] I'll meet you there.
- Okay, people.
Las Vegas Airport.
No private planes take
off until I clear it.
No cars, trucks leave the
airport until I clear it.
We got one shot at this.
Let's go, let's go!
(distant dog barking)
(tense music)
(fence clattering)
(knocking on door)
(door knocking)
- What's up?
- I was not expecting this.
- What?
- I'm here to get Sonya.
- Who?
- Sonya.
Stock 9-10.
Plans change.
I'm here to-
- Hey, hey, hey.
You can't just
come in here, man.
Hey, get the fuck out of here.
- Who the fuck is this?
- I don't know.
- What the hell time is it?
- What the fuck is
wrong with you, old man?
- 1:30 a.m.
- 1:30?
You were supposed
to drop this girl
at the buyer's a
half an hour ago.
- What girl?
- 9-10
Sonya.
Look, he called you
twice, numb-nuts.
You only have one job,
or was the fight so good?
- Nah, I, I wasn't...
All right, I was
watching the fight,
but I haven't gotten a
call or a text all day.
Did he call you?
- No.
- I had this phone on
me since this morning.
I even printed up the schedule.
I've got all the names here.
So what happened?
- This is what happened.
This shit.
That's what happened.
Just bring her here
so I can leave.
- I don't know
who you are, Jack.
- I'm the guy they hired
to fix your fuck-up.
If you have an issue with
that, talk to Dale Remington
in the morning.
- Uh, I'm just gonna call Rich.
- No, I'll call him.
You go get her.
- Go on, I'll follow you
so you don't get lost.
- What'd you say?
- If this girl isn't
across town in 20 minutes,
we lose $200,000, and I'll make
sure Dale knows who and why.
- Do it.
Just take him in.
Do it.
You better be legit, man.
(tense music)
(door opening)
(dramatic music)
- Which one?
Is that her?
- You, come over here.
(chains clinking)
This is it.
- 9-10
Yeah, that's her.
- This is it.
- Coach?
Yeah.
- Come on, just-
- Do you know him?
- What's going on?
- Come with me.
Just come.
- Whoa, whoa, hold on.
- Was this you?
- No.
Let's-
- Was this you, motherfucker?
- What's going on?
- Why did you do this?
- What the fuck
is wrong with you?
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(both grunting)
(both grunting)
- Catia, come on.
Come on, come on, everybody.
Everyone, come on.
Let's go.
- Come on, let's go.
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go.
- [Harry] You're all okay.
It's time to go.
You ready?
- Hey, you said one girl.
- Plans changed.
It's all of them now.
- What do you mean,
it's all of them now?
- You didn't get my text?
- No, I didn't get your te...
In fact, who the fuck would
give you my number, man?
- You guys and your text.
- Where's Roy at?
- Roy was detained.
(door opening)
(tense music)
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what
the fuck is going on here?
- This guy, he just shows
up out of the fucking ether.
He tells me Dale
changed the plans.
- Get 'em the fuck out of here.
I'll handle this.
- [James] Come here.
- I'm supposed to
get these girls
boarded on a plane immediately.
- Hold on.
- Remington okayed it.
He wanted to make sure the
pictures matched the, I mean,
you know, it was just,
just so he can be sure.
- He's not answering.
- [Harry] Yeah, he's
probably not going to.
- Yeah, why not?
- Well, it's just, gosh,
shit like this happens
all the time.
He's, uh, he's
detained by the police.
Sorry.
- What?
- Yeah.
Yeah, your guy Johnny,
he, uh, fucked all y'all.
- Johnny fucked us?
- Yeah.
Turned you in to the FBI.
In fact, they're waiting for
you right now at the casino.
Sergio, he's also in custody.
This was all Johnny's idea.
- Johnny sold us to the FBI?
Shit, that's a fucking
crazy story, man.
I've known Johnny
most of my life.
He's had a million
chances to fuck me over,
yet he never did.
- Well, you know what they say.
- Do you know why
he's in prison?
- Yeah, 'cause he raped
and murdered a girl.
- He didn't do shit.
- What?
- He fucked her.
He brought her to me.
She woke up too early,
started a fuckin' riot,
so I had to pull over
and squeeze her throat.
Johnny took the
whole hit for me.
Don't you watch the
news, Mister Sumner?
- You killed her.
- I know you.
I've seen your picture.
You're the dad!
- So let me understand this.
My daughter wakes up, tied
up in the back of a van,
and because she loses it
and gets a little upset,
you kill her because of that?
Well, did she scream?
Was she afraid?
Was she in fear for her life?
Does any of this sound
irrational to you?
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(both grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(Harry grunting)
(Harry grunting)
(suspenseful orchestral music)
- Die, motherfucker.
(gun firing)
(Rich grunts)
(body thudding)
(dramatic orchestral music)
- Harry!
Don't do it.
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(siren whooping)
(all chattering)
(police radio chattering)
- Harry.
- What?
- Thanks to this, we
found several girls.
Great job.
Very ballsy.
We got a problem, though.
No Dell Remington anywhere.
(keys jangling)
- Check the trunk of my car.
- What?
- Oh, I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
You're so brave.
Got your mom now.
Way to go.
(dramatic music)
(Dale screaming)
- Holy shit.
(Dale grunting)
I'm guessing you're
Dale Remington.
(Dale groans)
(Chuck laughs)
(upbeat music)
(all cheering)
- All right.
(all groaning)
Nice move.
All right, next.
Yeah.
(all cheering)
(all groaning)
(hands thumping on floor)
(indistinct)
Come up.
Come up.
That's it.
- Yeah!
Whoo!
Yeah!
Whoo!
- We don't do that.
- I just Ronda
Rousey-ed his butt!
- Why don't you act
like you've won before?
(Catia laughs)
Nice move.
Way to go, champ.
(light orchestral music)
- Hey, Harry.
- What's the news?
Spill it.
- It's Johnny McCoy.
- He didn't get out, did he?
- Yeah, killed in
his cell last night.
- (chuckles lightly) No shit.
- Word is Dale Remington had
a contract out on Johnny.
- That's one less thing
for me to think about.
That guy's been living
rent-free in my head
for far too long.
- Well.
Hey, uh, might be too soon,
but if you're not busy,
I got a tough case
down at the office,
and I wouldn't mind running
some thoughts by you.
Maybe tomorrow?
- Maybe.
- You got good instincts.
It's good to see you, Harry.
- All right, man.
(light orchestral music)
(light orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(dramatic orchestral
music continues)