Under Fire (2025) Movie Script
1
- Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Put that fucking gun down!
- What?
- What the fuck?!
Poor little chickies...
Man, what is it with the
rooster fighting anyway?
Humans just got tired of their
own dick-measuring contest,
and now they gotta get
other cocks to duke it out?
-No,
it's a cultural difference.
Something
that you wouldn't understand.
-Cultural, huh?
Yeah. Well,
dog fighting was cultural, too.
-I guaran-goddamn-tee
if some NFL star
got caught cock fighting,
PETA would raid this place
in a heartbeat.
-Well,
I suppose it's a good thing
you blew your knee out
in college, then.
-Still could have gone pro.
-But you didn't.
You acted like a fuck boy
until you ended up here.
So, how about you shut up,
eat your tacos,
because Valentino
likes a clean plate.
- Yeah, no, thanks.
I don't think my stomach
is in the mood for a loser.
-Better clean your plate,
gringo.
He's ready to see you.
-Let's get on with it.
-There's the jefe!
-Abbott.
The only American I like
passing through my doors.
-Heya, Valentino.
-I apologize for the mess.
I'm testing some rubs
for my daughter's quinceanera.
You know,
it seems like yesterday
she was running around
in her pull-ups,
and...
now she's
becoming a woman.
-Yeah, it does happen fast,
doesn't it?
-You seem a little young
to have that kind of experience,
Abbott.
You have kids?
-If I did,
do you really think
that I would tell you that?
That's why I like this guy.
He has common fuckin' sense.
Let's see them.
-That's 50
of America's finest.
All untraceable,
just like you ordered.
-It's real clean.
Those are nice.
I like the file on the serial.
-Well,
if they were any fresher,
they'd be in shrink wrap.
-My men are going to be happy
not to have that Chinese mierda
that always locks.
-Yeah, and I'm sure local PD
will be very happy to hear that.
Now...
what do you have for us?
- All right.
-We all good, gringo?
-No.
No,
I don't think we are.
-This is cash?
Valentino, we said cocaine.
All right,
we agreed on cocaine.
-Then use the cash
to buy cocaine.
-With what?!
Fucking gold
doubloons? All right.
I promised them
premium powder.
I told them I had Mexico's
best.
-I'm not looking
to get pinched.
-Well, nobody here
is trying to pinch you, man.
-I'm not saying you are.
But I smell a rat in my ranks.
Until I sniff him out,
it's cash only.
-Val, Val, listen,
you're putting me
in a very tight spot right now.
-Our whole business
is one big tight spot.
You better learn that quick.
Before you become
tomorrow's Happy Hour special.
-Boss man's not gonna
be happy about this.
Coke,
that's one thing but...
bag full of cash,
it's mucho bad luck.
-Right.
We will figure it out.
-Figure it out?
- Mm-hm.
- Hmft.
Like you figured it out
when you let El Geezer
walk all over us?
-Listen,
we need to stay
on Valentino's good side,
okay?
-Good side?!
That loco prick
does not have a good side.
-I thought
you didn't like those?
-I'm a stress eater.
Okay?
You know
what constitutes stress?
- Mm.
-A bag full of cash
and pirate's booty in our trunk.
-At least chew
with your mouth closed.
-That's your worry?
That's his worry.
-Purpose of your visit?
-Just a work trip.
-What kind of work's in Mexico
for guys like you?
-Just consulting.
- Vasquez, this is...
-Consulting?
-Felt right in the moment.
13,
got a possible 10-43.
-On my way.
-This is a big bag
of bad luck.
-Relax.
We'll be fine.
-Morning, boys.
-Howdy.
-I hear you just got done
with some consulting.
-Yes, ma'am.
-Sounds like fun.
Anything to declare
in the trunk?
Brought back
any consulting souvenirs?
-No, ma'am.
-What about you?
-That depends, honey.
You're gonna give me
a full cavity search?
Hey, you made them too tight.
I'm uncomfortable,
and you didn't give me
my phone call.
It was a joke.
No one has humor anymore.
Let me out, please.
I'm gonna be really annoying.
Until you let me out.
-Your friend's
got a real mouth on him.
I can hear him
through the walls.
-Yeah,
Griff has never learned
to exercise his right
to remain silent.
-It might get him
killed one day.
-Hm.
-And it might get you
killed too, Alex.
-Maya,
you and I both know
I've survived a lot worse
than a pair of loose lips.
-Yeah?
Well,
Griff won't keep those lips
if you aren't careful.
And a bag of cash in your trunk
is not careful.
-Wasn't my first choice.
-What happened to the cocaine,
Alex?
Brass thought the deal
was for ten kilos.
We need signs of product
to make an arrest.
You know that.
-It's Valentino, okay?
He knows.
He's getting paranoid,
and more than usual,
won't let so much as a dime
of powder out of his sight,
the prick.
-Well,
maybe this is a sign.
-No. Okay.
We're not doing that.
You're not pulling me out.
Okay,
I can do this.
I just...
I need more time.
-How long do you think you can
keep Valentino on the hook
before he finds out
who you really work for?
Or Griff?
How long before he knows
he's riding with a fed?
-I don't know.
-Just be careful out there,
agent.
All right,
you're free to go, sir.
Better not catch
you consulting.
-Fucking DEA.
Didn't even give me
my phone call.
-Right.
-I should sue.
At least we got
to keep the cash.
-No, no, because cash
won't account for much
when our boss pulls
our fucking fingers off
for not giving him
what he wants.
-All he wants is coke,
and we don't have that.
-That's a very astute
observation there, Griff.
No, we don't have
any fucking cocaine.
See, what we need,
what we need is a seller.
I'm gonna need you to get out
from under Valentino,
- because this situation,
- Oh, yeah?
- Right.
-it's not--
- You don't like that?
-It's giving me
a lot of razor burn.
It's killing me.
-Well, the second you meet
a drug dealer
that has time
to shave every day,
-I'll cut it for you.
-Mm, you could be the first.
-I don't think Valentino
appreciates a trailblazer.
-You could always get out.
-Wasn't looking forward
to this conversation.
-Let's say we pull you
out of the assignment.
I'm saying
pull out of everything.
-What do you mean, quit?
-Come on,
this job is a dead end.
The war on drugs isn't gonna go
anywhere anytime soon.
Yeah, no kidding.
-Just dousing a fire
with tequila at this point.
-I mean,
aren't you sick of this,
after everything
it's done to you?
After Rachel? Morgan?
-No, we're
not talking about them.
- Okay, I'm sorry.
I'm just...
I'm just sick of pushing up
a goddamn hill
only to slide back down.
I mean, Jesus Christ,
you armed a mass murderer today,
and for what?
For the hope that--that someday
we're going to be able
to put him in prison
for a few months.
I mean,
is that worth 30 bucks an hour
and a bullet to the brain?
-Don't forget
health insurance.
-Yeah, that's--
that's going to help
when Valentino dissolves you
in a fucking barrel.
-Oh, come on. Come on.
Hey.
That's not gonna happen to me.
-Well, it might,
because I'm pretty sure
you just said that he was
suspicious of someone.
It's not long
before he finds out you're DEA.
-What would we do
without this job?
-We could go away.
-Go where?
Where would we go, hm?
-I don't know.
Be far from here.
And that bag of cash,
that would pay
for a lot of beach time.
-We can have a better life.
This job has taken enough
from you already.
I gotta go.
-Goddamnit, Griff!
How did you even get in here?
-Chill out.
Did you forget we're criminals?
Your wiener.
-I can't believe this.
-I got you breakfast.
Tacos, extra lime,
just like you like,
and they gave you
a metric shit ton of onions.
So, don't talk to me too close.
By the way,
your OJ expired two weeks ago.
-OJ was there
before I got here.
Hey, I almost shot you
in the fucking head just now.
-Yeah, I know.
I almost shit my pants.
-Griff.
Man,
what are you doing here?
-I'm saving us.
-I found us a dealer.
-You spoke to Delgado?!
-Okay, whoa,
lower your blood pressure.
I didn't speak to anyone.
-My contact did.
-Sorry,
contact?!
What contact?
-Does it matter?
You asked me
to find us a dealer,
-so I did!
-A dealer?
You got us a rat
selling under Valentino's nose.
-Exactly,
and that's a good thing.
You know why?
Because we get our powder
and Delgado
gets flayed alive
for double-crossing his boss.
-It's a win-win, Abbott.
-Jesus fucking Christ.
-If you have
any other suggestions,
I'm all ears.
-Where does he want to meet?
-What?
What is this?
Where does he want to meet?
-Go down the road.
There's a gulch.
You'll see it.
-This is where Delgado
told you to meet him?
-Right on the dot.
Hey, plane crash.
Cool.
-Well, I don't like this.
Ridge like that,
all the spots for cover.
Hey, this is a kill zone.
-What are you, a Marine?
No one's gonna "kill zone" us.
Relax.
-I--I don't relax.
You should know this by now.
-Yeah, I noticed.
Spent eight months with you.
Your ass cheeks
are clenched so tight
you can make a diamond.
So, give it a rest.
-He's late.
We should split.
-Two minutes is not late.
-No, it's late
when you're dealing
under the table.
For all we know,
Valentino's figured us out.
He's probably halfway
through dipping Delgado
into a barrel full of lye.
-Or maybe he's just late.
See, what'd I tell you?
- Hola, Delgado!
Cmo ests, amigos?
-I'm not your amigo,
pendejo .
I'm sticking my neck
way the fuck out for you,
least you can do
is not butcher my language.
-And a big fat gracias
for that neck,
right, Abbott?
-You have the product?
-Yeah,
I have the product.
-Okay, then, why don't you stop
wasting daylight
and show us what's inside?
-What's his problem?
-Long drive,
no bathroom break.
-My problem
is you guys
picking this fucking deal spot!
-Relax, amigo.
If I wanted you killed,
I wouldn't hide my gun.
I'd pull the trigger myself.
-Ready when you are.
- El jefe was right.
You're loco, motherfucker.
Now where's the money?
-So,
we got a deal?
-Yeah, we have a deal.
-Great.
-DEA!
Everyone on the fucking ground!
-FBI! Nobody move!
-What the fuck?!
Is that a--?
-Badge! Yeah!
-You were undercover
the whole time?
-Me?!
You were!
-That's something
you better tell me!
-You, motherfucker,
sneaky, hiding.
-You're both fucking spooks!
-Hey, put that fucking gun down!
- Whoa, whoa, whoa!
-What?
-Watch your fucking--!
-I will plug you.
I swear to God!
-You put your fucking gun down,
Griff.
Put it down.
-You put yours down.
Piece of shit.
-That's fucking snipers.
He's not one of Valentino's.
That must be one of your guys,
right?
-What?
-What was your plan?
Lure me out here and then have
him finish up the job.
-He's not with me.
I'm FBI, dumbass!
We don't litter the place
with fucking land mines.
He's probably with you.
You're the one talking
about it being a kill zone
the whole time.
-Listen, listen.
I'll admit to you,
it's a pretty good
fucking fake badge.
-Fake badge?
-I almost believed
that you were a fed,
but then I realized,
of course,
you're not FBI,
because look at you.
You look like a child
playing fucking dress up.
-It's a character.
And I admit, the glasses
were a bad idea.
-So, who made it for you,
huh?
The fucking Aztecs?
The goddamn Latin Kings?
-Latin Kings?
You think I can infiltrate
the Latin Kings?
This badge is as real
as this Glock.
-Likely story.
-Yeah,
and you're with the DEA, huh?
Abbott,
is that your real name?
What, you watch
a Looney Tunes marathon
to decide your alias?
Is your middle name Norc?
So obvious.
No one on DEA drinks as much
as you do on the job.
-I drink like this
because I'm on the job.
-You know what, we don't have
fucking time for this.
You show me yours.
I'll show you mine.
Just like summer camp.
-Oh, I bet you're real used
to that one, huh?
-On three?
One, two, three.
- Shit.
-Give it back.
Give it back.
Come on. Come on.
- We good?
-Are we good?
No,
we're not good.
But I guess
this is all we got, so...
-Yeah, this was supposed
to get me off my desk job.
Short bust. Short bust.
You know what?
I love my desk.
I love to sit down
way better than this shit.
-What are you doing?
-They're caps, dude.
They're caps.
It's like a retainer.
You know how hard it is
to eat with these things.
And I swallowed one once.
- Good for you.
-My wife
hates these things.
For what?
Supposed to get me
a promotion.
-A rookie like you was up
for a promotion?
Well,
you are fucking fed.
-Yeah, well,
I'm actually 31 years old, okay?
So, our dynamic's gonna change
a little bit.
-We're talking
about experience.
I feel like
you're lacking in that, no?
-Fucking sniper.
Your--your phone's still good?
-No, I don't bring a phone
out into the field.
-What do you mean?
You don't--
you don't use a beeper,
-you creep?
-Beeper?!
How old do you think I am?
-Why are you like this?
-Because if this
weren't your first rodeo,
you'd understand the phones
are what get people killed.
-Really?
-Okay, okay.
I'll just go in blind,
all right?
-Yeah,
good luck with that.
- Get some--
-Who are you calling right
now?
-My handler in D.C.
He'll get us out of this.
-Oh, great.
Call a fucking fed.
I'm sure that'll pay off.
-No, no,
he's one of the good ones,
trust me.
He got me raised up
out of Quantico.
-When are you gonna get this
through your head?
There are no good ones.
There is just you
and the other guy.
-Just...
do you have a better idea?
-By all means,
give it a shot.
-Yeah.
-Sir.
- Griff.
-Sir.
Okay, the deal went south.
There's an assailant
on the ridge above us,
and they're firing down on us
with a sniper rifle.
- I'm sorry, kid.
No.
No, please.
I don't have it.
-Sir?
No.
-Hawthorn?
Hawthorn?
-Wait.
-Answer me!
-Who is that?
What happened?
-I--I don't know.
-What do you mean
you don't know?
-I think he got shot.
-Shot?
What are you talking about?
-I don't know, man!
-An FBI agent?!
-What the fuck!
- Whoa! Get here. Come here.
Come here.
-I'm gonna call 9-1-1.
-No, you are not!
You just heard an FBI head
get executed
and your first thought
is to call the local PD?
Didn't Quantico teach you
to smell out a fucking setup
when it's right in front
of your goddamn face?!
-Okay, okay,
you're right.
This is probably bigger
than beat cops.
-Yeah!
-Now, it's bigger than cartel.
They won't know anything
more than we do.
Ah!
What the fuck!
What's that sound?
-It's a jammer.
-How does he have that?
-He's military.
He's clearly a fucking pro.
- Well,
I'm glad you're impressed.
It nearly blew my eardrum out
and removed our only form
of communication.
-Hey, hey.
-Maybe not our only way out.
- Good idea.
That's what I was thinking.
-That's what you were
thinking, yeah, right.
-Any sign of him?
-Nothing,
not even a reflection.
Guy's probably closing
his scope cap
until he sees movement.
-Could be anywhere right now.
Could be flanking us.
-Yeah, well...
there's only one way
to find out.
-Found him.
-I see him.
One o'clock.
Asshole's just waiting for us
to poke our heads out.
-How kind.
-All right,
it's about 300 feet to get
to Delgado's ride.
-275, 280.
-Listen, an average sniper
can squeeze off
about four rounds
in a ten-second window,
but we are not talking
about somebody average.
I saw this guy double-tap
a cartel guy in the same sec.
-So, we're fucked.
-I'm saying is, if we're gonna
make a run for it,
we better do it fast.
Don't give him time to adjust.
-And the land mines?
-Let's just hope he laid those
on the perimeter, yeah?
-This plan
isn't giving me much confidence.
-The plan is
I will draw his fire.
You'll lay down cover,
and I'll grab the SUV.
-Ah,
no, I'm not gonna be bait.
We both go.
-That is just gonna double
the chances of him
hitting us. No.
-Oh yeah?
Well, it also doubles my
chances of you not driving away
and leaving me for dead.
We both go or no cover fire.
-Fine.
We'll cover each other
and just keep his sights moving
as much as possible.
What was that?
Just give me the mirror.
Fuck is wrong with you?
-Now!
-Move your ass, Abbott!
-Shit!
-Oh, my...
Did he get you, man?
Did he get you?
-It's just a scratch.
But listen, man,
I got lucky.
I don't think we'll have time
for both of us to go.
-What?
-I should just go
and then I'll come back
for you.
-No, no, no, no,
that's not the deal.
I covered you.
You cover me.
Capiche?
-All right.
Well, you better hustle up then,
because I can't wait long.
-No, yeah,
I'm coming.
Fuck it.
Go, go!
-Oh, my God!
-He's got a beat on you, man.
-No shit!
-Go!
-Oh, fuck.
He got me, dude.
Ow, ow! Holy fuck!
I'm gonna die!
-Hey, Griff.
He's reloading.
-Dude, that hurts so much
more than I thought it would!
Oh, fuck!
-Come, man.
You can't just lay there.
Let's go.
-Oh, it burns!
-I know it hurts,
but our window
is getting very small.
-You gotta get me!
I can't walk, man!
-Fuck, let's go!
- I'm dying!
- Let's go!
fucking girl.
Fuck.
Ow, ow!
Shit!
Ow, shit. It burns.
I'm dying, dude.
I'm dying.
-Hey, stop saying that.
You are not gonna die.
-I don't even
wanna be alive anymore, dude.
This hurts so bad.
You have no fucking idea.
-That's good.
Went straight through,
which actually
is a good thing.
-How is that a good thing?
I have a fucking hole
in my leg.
-I've dealt with a lot
of gunshots before.
It's way worse
if the bullet's still in there.
We just have to close it fast.
-Oh, come on!
Fuck you! Fuck you!
-Pressure's good.
Pressure's good.
- Come on, dude.
Chill.
How are you gonna close it?
-You still got
that fancy lighter on you?
-I can't feel my fingers.
-Hey, hey.
That's the adrenaline,
all right?
Just let it keep you awake,
yeah?
Now where's that lighter?
-Left jacket pocket there.
Yeah, there we go.
Next to the cigarettes.
-Yeah, I feel those.
It's fine.
Maybe you won't have the energy
to smoke anymore of those,
you know?
- What?
-You know, I'm no stranger
to getting shot myself.
It feels like a hot poker
running up and down your body.
Couldn't feel my fingers,
my tongue, nothing.
-Yeah.
-What are you doing
with the coin?
-This...
-Don't tell me.
-is a field cauterization.
-Oh, fuck.
-I got plenty of experience.
My first tour in Afghan,
I got shot in my ass.
-You think getting shot
in your leg is bad?
I didn't get a cool scar
to show the ladies now.
-You should
bite down on this.
Keep that silver tongue
of yours intact.
-Okay, do it.
-My pleasure.
There you go.
-And you're done.
You're done.
-Oh, I'm gonna throw up.
Ow!
-I know.
-Ooh.
I thought you said
you never been shot before.
-That's just
some undercover bullshit.
-What else
is undercover bullshit, huh?
-Well,
all those tacos,
you know, those ones
you got me every day.
-The Catalina Supreme.
Don't tell me, dude.
I drove ten minutes out
of the way every day for you.
-Listen,
I'm actually not a fan
of Mexican food in general.
Anything spicier than mayo
ruins my whole night.
-Well, Mexico is not
the right assignment for you.
-Why don't you bite down
on that?
-No.
-Here we go.
-How's your leg?
-Fuck you.
I missed.
- What is that?
You heard that, too, yeah?
- Yeah.
- From the car.
- I can't believe
I missed.
- I guess it's my job
to go check it out.
No way.
- You're lucky.
The wind saved you.
A still breeze a bit to the
left and I clip your artery.
That's no way to go out.
-Who the hell are you?
Just give in, boys.
Make it end faster.
I promise a quick death.
Just stand up.
I snipe your spine.
You won't feel a thing.
-You aware that you just tried
to kill two federal agents?
Two ex-federal agents.
-What?
What did he just say?
You were burned the second
you laid eyes on that case.
-What are you talking about?
Just think about what I said.
Do the noble thing.
Don't drag this out.
Will you face it?
There's no one out there.
-There has to be one channel
out there.
I got a contact at the border.
-Let me guess,
the pretty DEA chica
who wanted to give you
a cavity search.
-We're just co-workers.
- Yeah,
and these are healthy for me.
-Vasquez has a short wave
on her rig.
If she comes within range,
we should be able
to flag her down.
-How do you think
the sniper knew we were burned?
-Maybe he's
another Bureau suit.
You guys are always
fucking something up.
-You can't seriously
still think he's with me.
Bro,
he blew my fucking leg off.
-Sounds like
a good cover story,
if you ask me.
-You know what?
You're making me think he's DEA.
Probably wanted some piece
of the pie.
That's not the first time
some corrupt guy
in your department.
-See if it was the DEA,
we wouldn't have missed.
-But look,
if he is FBI,
he's not with me.
-Fair enough.
-Maybe Valentino found out
about Delgado.
-Might have us a sicario up
on that ridge.
-Not likely.
No, he's military.
A former, at least.
Ranger Corp, most likely.
Knows how to cover his tracks,
corner his target,
make his one gun
feel like an entire squad.
Asshole.
-What's he want with us?
-I don't think
he wants us at all.
I think we are in the way
of what he's really here for.
-We're sitting ducks out here.
-Unless we can turn the
tables.
Give ourselves
some sort of bargaining chip.
-The case?
Do you think the sniper's
doing this
all for some gator tails
with the boys?
-No,
I don't know for sure,
but there might be
something else in there,
something he wants.
-Well, we'd be able to find
out if we went back in time,
back out into the open.
You know,
last time that happened,
my leg exploded, so.
-Feel like your leg's
good enough to push?
-No,
but we're gonna do it anyway.
-Great.
Then you're steering.
-You ready?
-Go!
-Back seat.
-Yeah.
-Ow, ow, ow!
Hola, Griff.
-I need some help.
- What are you boys
up to in there, huh?
Oh, I see you.
-Maybe you can hurry this up.
-Yeah, yeah.
Shut up.
Come on, man!
Aim at him!
-Hustle up!
-Come on.
Ow, ow, ow, ow!
-What are you doing in there?
Move!
-Ah-hah!
Ah, it's in neutral.
-I'm out!
-Let's go! Let's go, let's go,
let's go, let's go, let's go!
-To the left.
-Okay, okay, okay.
-Oh, no, right!
Right, right, right!
-Oh, my God,
did you just run over a guy?
-Don't worry about it.
Just step over.
-Ow!
-Oh, God!
It's working.
-Abbott!
One piggy down.
-Wake up, pussy.
Train's leavin'.
-God! God!
-Thought I lost you there.
-You're not that lucky.
Now, goddamn push, goddamnit!
-Goddamn!
Come on!
-He's shooting out the tires!
-Just keep pushing!
-Ah, fuck.
Ah! Ah!
Oh, dude. Ow!
- No, no, no!
- Fuck, he got my leg.
The tire got on my leg.
He just hates this leg.
Fuck.
-Stop, dude, stop.
Please.
It's over.
-No!
-We're not going anywhere,
Abbott.
-Oh, why'd you stop?
Why'd you stop?
It's right there!
-Abbott, that's it.
We're not going any further.
-Fuck!
It's your leg.
It's always your leg.
You morons really think
I wouldn't shoot out the tires.
-Oh, this asshole.
-Oh, fuck this guy!
- Seriously,
now just poke those heads out.
-He's fucking playing with us,
man.
-Listen to me.
One of us has to go out there
and grab that case.
It is right there.
-Abbott,
I know you think highly of me.
-Yeah.
-I'm a maverick
and I'm a stallion, but
I don't think
I can do it, dude.
-Right. I know.
I know. I know.
Listen,
you saved me back there.
I'll go.
I'll go.
I'll do that.
-You can't go out there
without a suit of armor
or something.
- Griff.
Where--where the fuck
am I gonna get
a suit of armor out here, huh?
-I think
I know where we can find
the next best thing.
-I really hope this works.
-Well, thank God
for Delgado's paranoia.
Never thought I'd be saved
by a cartel member.
Can you move in that?
-Well, considering I just
gained about 50 pounds,
yeah,
I should be fine.
-Well, like I said,
you can have my vest too
and gain another 15,
if you like.
-No, no, I imagine you'll need
a little extra protection
for laying down cover fire.
-Guess that means
you trust me.
-I wouldn't push it.
-Well, regardless,
thanks, Abbott.
-It's Alex.
Yeah,
my real name's Alex Kelso.
Figured if I'm gonna die,
I should probably
just tell you my real name.
-Still think
I like Abbott more.
-Most people do.
-I'm Griffin Crawford.
-Wait a minute.
You use your real name
for undercover work.
-I couldn't remember
anything else at the time.
-Stop talking.
You stress me out.
I need to be focused.
- Okay.
On three. One...
-Two...three.
-Now!
-God damn it!
Mind over matter.
Fuck you!
-Aah!
-Ooh.
God,
he shot his dick off!
-You're a dick shooter now,
huh?
-What the fuck is wrong
with this guy?
Fuck this thing, man.
-Can you hurry up, Alex?
-I'm trying my best!
Shut up and shoot!
Oh!
- Okay.
Ow, ow, ow, ow!
-Keep going.
Just keep going.
Delgado!
All right.
No!
Come on!
-What are you doing?!
-It's fucking handcuffed
to him.
-Well,
can you drag him?
-Can I d--? No!
Do you see how big
this motherfucker is?
I gotta stand up
and get leverage.
-Give me a second.
-Oh, oh,
take your time.
I'm just having fun
with the rigor mortis crew
over here.
-Wait.
Do you still have your keys?
-What would I use
my keys for right now?
-Hit the alarm.
-The al--
Right, right.
- Okay.
-I...
I think I got him.
Go, go, go, go!
-Where is that
coming from?
-He's not using his scope!
-Come on, come on!
Go, go, go, go!
Come on, come on, come on!
Sit down,
sit down, sit down!
-Agh!
-Fuck, he got you.
-Nah,
it's just a flesh wound, man. -
No, it's not okay.
I told you to take my vest.
-Ah, just stop that!
It's just a scratch, man.
It's just a scratch.
Don't worry about it.
-Oww!
-Come on.
Okay.
-Damn it!
-Stay still,
stay still, stay still.
It's gonna hurt.
-Aahhhh!
Hey, hey.
At least now I'll get a cool
scar, eh?
-Not as cool as mine.
Okay, that was a good shot.
Cracked my scope up real nice.
A good shot
should always be respected.
-I did get him.
-Yeah.
- Ah.
It's only a matter of time.
You either eat a bullet
or die of dehydration.
Either way,
I can wait you out.
-Oh yeah, get him.
Get him.
Not so fast.
Abbott,
chill, chill.
Easy, easy.
-You assuming sack of shit. -
Get him.
-I spent a week
in an Afghan foxhole
with nothing but good thoughts
and a fucking bottle of water.
-Yeah.
-This will be nothin'.
-Yeah, yeah.
You get him.
Everyone thinks they can,
but they can't.
I'm sorry,
but I have a mission
and I always finish
my mission.
-He's a poet--
-Hey, man,
shut the fuck up.
Over and out.
-That was good.
That was good.
I...
I can't, I can't.
-Come on.
Come on.
Listen,
if we don't get this case open,
we both took a bullet
for nothing.
-You should
drink something.
-I'm fine. I'm fine.
-If you're dehydrated,
you're gonna cramp up.
-You know those things will
make you even more dehydrated.
-Yeah, and they also
give you cancer.
But...
I swear I'm trying to quit.
They're just the only thing
that keep me
from having panic attacks.
Honestly, I've never been
in a gun fight before.
-Hard to believe.
-I know.
Me, Griff,
your hero, your idol.
I'm not even scared of dying.
What I am terrified of
is them showing up
to my wife's door
and telling them our kid
doesn't have a daddy.
-You know,
I've never heard
the guy with a wife and a kid
taking an undercover job,
not willingly, anyway.
- Oh.
You were right about somethin'.
I fucked around
a bit too much after college.
I needed to make
a name for myself.
Maybe some money.
Kid was an accident.
I didn't even know I had a kid
'til I was putting
on the gold teeth.
I take it you're not married?
-I used to be.
Not anymore.
-What happened?
-It's the same thing
that's got you
chaining those Marlboros.
This job.
-This is embarrassing.
Move over.
Let me try.
Well,
here's your issue.
You were forcing it.
My brother used to keep
his Sports Illustrated
in a little case like this.
I very quickly learned
how to slip a lock.
Ha-ha, there we go.
That's it?
This is just drugs.
-Well, it can't be.
A sniper
doesn't kill five people
for a case full of cocaine.
-He also doesn't kill
an FBI head.
So, if this isn't about drugs,
then what is this about?
-I don't know.
-I thought we were gonna get
a bargaining chip!
Man,
this whole deal went to shit.
Our plan,
some fucking plan that was.
I was out there
shooting both of our guns.
Now, that little stunt
cost us everything.
Give me that!
Fuck!
Oh, fuck!
-What are you gonna name it?
-What?
-Well, I imagine you've put
some thought into it,
and I guarantee you your wife
has thought about it
every second of every day.
So, what name did you pick?
-Uh...
I don't know,
I...
I guess I always like
the sound of "Brandy."
No, no, no, no, no.
Speaking
from experience here,
do not name her
after a drink.
I named my baby Morgan.
People just kept
calling her Captain Morgan.
I hated it.
-You have a kid?
-Yeah.
Took after
her mother, thankfully.
-Is she fine
with her name now?
-You know, I don't know.
I haven't seen her
in a few years.
-Why haven't you seen her?
-Yeah.
Well, once I...
got out of the service,
we used to do some work
at the border.
Just routine stops.
This one time I pull over a
priest coming up out of Juarez.
And mind you,
I hate pulling over priests,
not from
any religious point of view,
but I just don't like
patting down a man
of the cloth.
But...
this time
I check the back of the truck,
and I find 15 kids, babies,
crammed in there.
Some of their arms
were broken
just to fit 'em inside.
Stitch shots,
bellies full of cocaine.
How do you look at your kid
after something like that?
-Okay, man,
Brandy's off the list.
Fuck!
What the fuck?!
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Ah, ah, ah. Calm down.
How is he still breathing?
Ubiystvo!
What the fuck?!
Ubiystvo!
-I wouldn't exactly say
what he's doing
is breathing.
All right,
I need a cylindrical object,
kind of like a pen
or something like that.
-Just let
the little prick die.
-Because he needs
to tell us what's happening.
Now, find the pen
or anything like it.
Come on.
-Okay. I--okay.
- Come on.
-Found a pen.
-Great.
-I wish I could say
I'm sorry,
but I'm not.
-What the fuck
are you doing?
-It's an
emergency tracheotomy.
His windpipe needs oxygen.
Otherwise, he'll die.
And this
is gonna give it to him.
Oh, fuck.
Yo, my God.
-Yeah, no, save it.
Listen to me.
Your lungs are filling
in with blood.
And I promise you,
you do not have long.
But before you go,
I need you to tell me exactly
why a military sniper
is working so hard to get
a case full of cocaine.
Your turn.
...eto vnutri...
eto... vnutri...
-Is he...gone?
-Yes, Griff.
Yes, he's dead.
-Yeah.
What was he saying?
Etro...Eto Vnutri?
-I mean, it sounds like...
like Russian.
-Like Russian?
How the fuck does a Mexican
drug runner know Russian?
-Any chance the FBI
taught you some Ruskie
in your time there?
-No, they nixed that course
once the wall fell.
But I did pick up a few words
from my wife.
Her parents
were former Soviet Union.
Etro vnutri...vnut...
Eto vnutri means
"It's inside."
-You got that
from what he just said?
-Yeah.
-But what is it?
-All right, listen up,
whoever you are,
we found your drive.
So, let's talk.
Who is Delgado, huh?
Is he CIA?
All right, you better start
spilling asshole,
otherwise this drive
is gonna end up in pieces,
and I know
you don't want that.
- You're in no
position to make demands.
-Actually,
I'm feeling pretty good
about my position.
We found the drive
that you need.
So, what is this?
You CIA?
- No.
But I take their calls
from time to time.
-You're not even a soldier.
You're just a murderer
for hire.
I used to be a soldier.
A ranger, you called it,
but that was a long time ago.
-Then tell me,
what was Delgado to you?
A Russian informant?
Was he your comrade?
Never met the guy
'til I plugged him
with a round today.
-Why don't you tell me
what's on this drive, huh?
Is this Russian
bank account numbers?
- That is above
both our pay grades.
All I know is Delgado
was a Russian defector
hiding out in Mexico
trying to make a quick buck.
-Who was he selling to?
- You should ask
your partner about that.
His handler set
this whole thing up.
Now that handler
has a bullet in his brain,
I think the two of you
got lots to talk about.
-Take it easy.
This is what he wants.
I wanted to tell you.
Shit got way out of hand.
-This whole thing
was based off of your tip.
-Fine, fine.
Hawthorn told me that there
would be some intel in the case,
but I didn't know
it was gonna be that,
and I sure as shit didn't know
he was gonna try
and fuck us over.
-Yeah, you tell me.
What was the plan
for me here today, huh?
Was I
your fucking fall guy?
-I was
just following orders.
I mean, we're both
being set up here.
Don't make
that guy's job any easier.
-Okay.
-You know I wouldn't
hurt you if I knew.
-That makes one of us.
You know, Griff...
count 15.
-Come on!
Abbott!
-You just keep
your head down.
-You're gonna need me.
Where are you going?
-Getting out of here.
-All right,
maybe you can wait me out.
I'll give you that.
But I'm pretty damn sure
that I can keep you out here
until the last drop of water
dries up
in that canteen of yours.
-Abbott!
-And I don't like that plan.
Here's a better one.
Ceasefire.
That isn't an option for me.
-Yeah. Well, if you want
to make it out of this gulch
with the drive,
you'll make it an option.
Here's what I'm proposing.
I'll stand up real tall-like,
keep my hands over my head.
Gun out of the picture.
You do the same.
Now,
I know you were a ranger,
and I'm pretty sure
they taught you
a little bit of honor.
So, why don't you showcase
some of that for me right now,
and we got a deal.
-Abbott, don't do it.
We have a deal.
-As soon as you pop
your head up,
he's gonna shoot it off.
-Yeah, well, what?
Am I gonna trust you?
-Yeah, kinda!
-We move on three.
One...
-Abbott.
-Two...
-Abbot, don't!
-Three.
Where's the drive?
-So, how do you want
to do this?
Now, I want you to back up.
Back up.
Keep going.
Just a little further.
-No, no,
I'm not an idiot.
You come down here,
or I'll smash this drive
under my fucking boot.
-There's another shooter!
-What?!
-Oh, fuck!
Fuck!
- Looks like my
partner showed up just in time.
Oh, fuck!
-Damn it, Griff!
This is gonna hurt.
-Oh, my God, whoa!
Oh, fuck, good, good.
Lying sack of shit.
-My first time flying private.
Fuck it.
Two, huh?
-Hold on, Abbott!
Fuck, he tied these tight.
Let's hope this yoga paid off.
Fuck!
Wow,
I can't believe I did that.
Okay.
-Come on, sweetheart.
-You don't have
to tell me twice!
You came back,
you beautiful son of a bitch.
-Ah, what can I say.
You're gonna make me blush.
-If you can get us out of here
safe,
then I'll give you a fat fucking
star.
-Dude,
I can't see anything.
-Oh, you should've
left me, man!
-Oh, well,
we can survive
better together.
Hold on.
-Hey!
Okay, we're good.
-Yeah, maybe no more
of that, please.
- Whooh!
- Ahh!
Please.
Hey! Left, left, left!
Left!
Oh, shit!
A bridge up ahead!
-I think
we're gonna lose him.
I think we're gonna lose him.
Abbott!
Abbott,
are you alive?
Abbott,
where are you?
You fucking assholes!
Good thing my partner
has a better view.
I'll let him finish you off
so I can collect my reward.
-No.
No, no, no, no.
Come on, man.
-It's over.
Let it happen.
-Found this baby
in the trunk.
Figured
you could use the help.
Hey, hey, come on.
Slow your roll.
You look like shit, brother.
You're fine.
You're okay.
Save the shock
for a Bureau shrink.
I don't have time for that.
-You saved me.
-No, I was just returning
the favor.
But, um...
I'm sorry
that I didn't trust you.
-It's okay.
I probably would have
done this same.
- Yeah, no,
actually, you wouldn't have
because I would have had you
in a headlock
before you got
the zip ties on me.
Copy. This is the border.
-Is that...?
-Over.
-Fuck.
Yeah, copy, copy.
Who is this?
- Alex?
-Vasquez.
What the hell is going on?
I got reports of gunshots
near the border.
Figured it was some kids
fucking around.
-No, no.
Vasquez,
it's not kids.
Maya, listen.
Griff and I got pinned down
behind an SUV.
There's a sniper out here,
and he's laying down fire.
Are you okay?
- Yeah,
no, we're still alive.
We're pinned down
just a mile south--
Oh, fuck. Shit.
-I'm stuck.
Are you gonna help me?
-Come on. Come on!
-Fuck.
What the fuck?
It's raining?
-Of course.
I offered you a quick death.
And instead,
you killed my partner.
I won't offer
that same kindness again.
I'm gonna pick you off
piece by piece
'til you beg for death.
Then I'll pick off even more.
-This guy sucks.
-What are you doing,
man?
-Fuck.
I can't see a glint.
-Yeah, no,
this time of night,
with this rain,
you're not gonna see
a fucking reflection.
-What do we do, man?
What do we do?
-Come on,
you always think of something
to get us out of this shit.
Not this time.
No, this time,
I'm beat.
-Hey.
No, no, no, no.
You're not doing
that shit right now.
-Hey, did I ever tell you
why I took this job?
-I have a feeling
you're gonna tell me.
-It's to help people.
Help good,
hardworking people
that I saw suffering.
It wasn't until today
that I realized
I am just dousing a fire
with tequila.
Sometimes I wish
I could just fucking go back
and do it all over again.
Actually make a difference,
so...
Yeah.
-You did make a difference,
Abbott.
You saved me.
Give me that.
Now, shut the hell up.
-Hey, hey, hey!
Don't come over here.
Don't come over here
and just stay right there.
There's...
-Alex?
-Vasquez?
- Jesus Christ.
- Vasquez?
-Are you guys okay?
-Get down. Get down.
Over here.
-Oh, my God.
You need an ambulance.
-No, no,
we're fine.
We're fine, okay?
Just tell me
that you brought back up.
-Yes, yes. Terrence and Dunn
are minutes away.
What the fuck is going on?
-Listen to me.
We need to get this to brass.
We need to do it now.
I can't tell you what's on it,
but the second Terrance
and Dunn get here,
we need to hop in the rig
and get out.
-Okay.
Was that all that
was in the case?
-No, no, there was--
there was cocaine
and everything
piled on top, okay?
It was a distraction.
This is what
they really came for.
This...
How did you know I was here?
-What are you talking about?
You told me.
-No.
Vasquez, no, I didn't.
There's no backup coming,
is there?
-Nice and easy, Alex.
- What the fuck?
-Shut up.
-I told you,
we should have run away.
-Your girlfriend
took a fucking deal!
-I didn't have a choice!
You might be okay dying
in this desert, Alex,
but I'm not.
And if you can't
help me escape,
someone higher up can.
-Vasquez,
what did you do?
-I found a way out.
-Maya,
you--you can't trust them.
-Alex,
give me the drive.
-You knew
I was on this key!
- Give me
the fucking drive!
-You want this key, huh?
Then you fucking take it
from me.
-I have the drive.
- Good.
Put it in your rig.
-What about them?
Cut them loose?
Leave them for me.
-Maya!
Hey, Maya, get...
Maya, get back here!
Vasquez!
Abbott...
Abbott...
Abbott!
-Those bullets
went screaming over her head.
He's pinned us down.
-No, we can make it
if we stay close to the wall.
You'll have more cover.
Now,
if she got here that fast,
that means
there's a checkpoint nearby.
So, we just need
to get to the car,
and then we can hightail it
to the border
to get the fuck out of here.
-Hey,
do you love your wife?
-What?
-What is her name?
Uh...
Alina.
-You love Alina?
-Yeah, dude,
I love my wife.
And you know what?
I can't stop thinking about how
pissed she's gonna be
if you keep asking
stupid questions like this,
and we don't get
the fuck home.
-We'll make it home.
Listen to me, Griff,
we can't keep running.
Not like this.
Even if we make it out
of this gulch,
he'll find us.
That's a lifetime
of looking over our shoulder.
That's you, that's Alina,
that's your whole family.
I don't want that.
Okay, we have
to stop him right here,
right fucking now.
Now look,
he shot the headlights
out of that car.
You know why?
-No, why?
-It's a scope.
He's using thermal vision.
We just gotta flush him out.
-So, what?
We just lay
out a trail of cocaine
and hope
he comes a-sniffin'?
-Something like that,
yeah.
Now, Vasquez has a flare
on her rig.
We pop that.
We shove
in the bastard's eyes.
-Burn him?
-No, no.
We--we--we blind him.
- How do we get him
out into the open?
-One of us
will have to be bait.
Don't worry, I got it.
-Well,
let's give him hell.
-Let's do it,
partner.
-I guess this one
we do technically owe
the cartel for.
Ready?
Three, two...
Okay, okay.
I got the flare.
Now, what?!
-Bait.
-Fuck.
-Come on out,
you coward bitch.
- Vasquez was a traitor.
She deserved what she got.
No,
you don't get
to talk about her.
Yah!
Come on. Come on.
Come on.
Hey.
You listen to me.
You're not making it out
of this gulch alive.
You're gonna die.
Alone.
Like your fucking buddy.
Here you are.
-He wasn't weak.
He was steel,
but you...
you're just flesh and bone.
-Let's do this.
-Listen, after I kill you,
I'm going to use
every resource I have
to hunt your daughter.
-Hey, cock shooter.
Let's see
how you take the heat.
-Get fucked.
-You know,
we're not much different.
Just men following orders.
We could both
walk away from this.
I just need to kill
your partner first.
-That's enough.
-Abbott!
Fuck.
Oh,
that's a lot of blood.
Um...
you're okay.
-I think this is it for me,
okay?
-No.
No, man, you're built
like a fucking ox.
You've been shot
like ten times.
Come on.
-Just a second.
Maybe...
maybe I'll do a little better
in my next life.
- Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck.
Abbott.
Whoa, whoa.
Okay, okay, okay.
You're alive.
-He shot my arm
and my fucking leg.
-Oh, my God,
I told you.
You're built like
a fucking ox, dude.
You're not gonna die here.
-I need help.
Help me up.
-Come on.
Jesus Christ!
Okay,
now that you feel better,
do you see what I did at all?
-Yeah,
it was great.
-It was awesome!
-The only problem is,
you didn't look very cool doing
it.
-Oh, horse shit.
Fucker.
Let's go get some food.
Let's go get some tacos!
-Ah.
Maybe Thai food this time?
-Thai food.
-Boop.
- Hands on,
Hands on, let's go.
- Don't laugh.
Come on.
The camera's rolling.
This is important stuff.
Here we go. Set!
Set.
And action!
-Oh, my God!
It's a zombie!
Fuck off!
-Now, she's a zombie girl!
Oh, God!
-I'm reloading.
-God, I don't know
what you're saying,
but it sounds like--
-Oh, my God!
That is fucked up!
-This is so fucked up.
-Oh.
Oh, God.
-I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
- And cut!
- Yeah, are you good?
- Yeah.
-Did that look good?
-So,
ending in Queensland.
Take 1 and mark--and B mark.
- Reset.
- Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Put that fucking gun down!
- What?
- What the fuck?!
Poor little chickies...
Man, what is it with the
rooster fighting anyway?
Humans just got tired of their
own dick-measuring contest,
and now they gotta get
other cocks to duke it out?
-No,
it's a cultural difference.
Something
that you wouldn't understand.
-Cultural, huh?
Yeah. Well,
dog fighting was cultural, too.
-I guaran-goddamn-tee
if some NFL star
got caught cock fighting,
PETA would raid this place
in a heartbeat.
-Well,
I suppose it's a good thing
you blew your knee out
in college, then.
-Still could have gone pro.
-But you didn't.
You acted like a fuck boy
until you ended up here.
So, how about you shut up,
eat your tacos,
because Valentino
likes a clean plate.
- Yeah, no, thanks.
I don't think my stomach
is in the mood for a loser.
-Better clean your plate,
gringo.
He's ready to see you.
-Let's get on with it.
-There's the jefe!
-Abbott.
The only American I like
passing through my doors.
-Heya, Valentino.
-I apologize for the mess.
I'm testing some rubs
for my daughter's quinceanera.
You know,
it seems like yesterday
she was running around
in her pull-ups,
and...
now she's
becoming a woman.
-Yeah, it does happen fast,
doesn't it?
-You seem a little young
to have that kind of experience,
Abbott.
You have kids?
-If I did,
do you really think
that I would tell you that?
That's why I like this guy.
He has common fuckin' sense.
Let's see them.
-That's 50
of America's finest.
All untraceable,
just like you ordered.
-It's real clean.
Those are nice.
I like the file on the serial.
-Well,
if they were any fresher,
they'd be in shrink wrap.
-My men are going to be happy
not to have that Chinese mierda
that always locks.
-Yeah, and I'm sure local PD
will be very happy to hear that.
Now...
what do you have for us?
- All right.
-We all good, gringo?
-No.
No,
I don't think we are.
-This is cash?
Valentino, we said cocaine.
All right,
we agreed on cocaine.
-Then use the cash
to buy cocaine.
-With what?!
Fucking gold
doubloons? All right.
I promised them
premium powder.
I told them I had Mexico's
best.
-I'm not looking
to get pinched.
-Well, nobody here
is trying to pinch you, man.
-I'm not saying you are.
But I smell a rat in my ranks.
Until I sniff him out,
it's cash only.
-Val, Val, listen,
you're putting me
in a very tight spot right now.
-Our whole business
is one big tight spot.
You better learn that quick.
Before you become
tomorrow's Happy Hour special.
-Boss man's not gonna
be happy about this.
Coke,
that's one thing but...
bag full of cash,
it's mucho bad luck.
-Right.
We will figure it out.
-Figure it out?
- Mm-hm.
- Hmft.
Like you figured it out
when you let El Geezer
walk all over us?
-Listen,
we need to stay
on Valentino's good side,
okay?
-Good side?!
That loco prick
does not have a good side.
-I thought
you didn't like those?
-I'm a stress eater.
Okay?
You know
what constitutes stress?
- Mm.
-A bag full of cash
and pirate's booty in our trunk.
-At least chew
with your mouth closed.
-That's your worry?
That's his worry.
-Purpose of your visit?
-Just a work trip.
-What kind of work's in Mexico
for guys like you?
-Just consulting.
- Vasquez, this is...
-Consulting?
-Felt right in the moment.
13,
got a possible 10-43.
-On my way.
-This is a big bag
of bad luck.
-Relax.
We'll be fine.
-Morning, boys.
-Howdy.
-I hear you just got done
with some consulting.
-Yes, ma'am.
-Sounds like fun.
Anything to declare
in the trunk?
Brought back
any consulting souvenirs?
-No, ma'am.
-What about you?
-That depends, honey.
You're gonna give me
a full cavity search?
Hey, you made them too tight.
I'm uncomfortable,
and you didn't give me
my phone call.
It was a joke.
No one has humor anymore.
Let me out, please.
I'm gonna be really annoying.
Until you let me out.
-Your friend's
got a real mouth on him.
I can hear him
through the walls.
-Yeah,
Griff has never learned
to exercise his right
to remain silent.
-It might get him
killed one day.
-Hm.
-And it might get you
killed too, Alex.
-Maya,
you and I both know
I've survived a lot worse
than a pair of loose lips.
-Yeah?
Well,
Griff won't keep those lips
if you aren't careful.
And a bag of cash in your trunk
is not careful.
-Wasn't my first choice.
-What happened to the cocaine,
Alex?
Brass thought the deal
was for ten kilos.
We need signs of product
to make an arrest.
You know that.
-It's Valentino, okay?
He knows.
He's getting paranoid,
and more than usual,
won't let so much as a dime
of powder out of his sight,
the prick.
-Well,
maybe this is a sign.
-No. Okay.
We're not doing that.
You're not pulling me out.
Okay,
I can do this.
I just...
I need more time.
-How long do you think you can
keep Valentino on the hook
before he finds out
who you really work for?
Or Griff?
How long before he knows
he's riding with a fed?
-I don't know.
-Just be careful out there,
agent.
All right,
you're free to go, sir.
Better not catch
you consulting.
-Fucking DEA.
Didn't even give me
my phone call.
-Right.
-I should sue.
At least we got
to keep the cash.
-No, no, because cash
won't account for much
when our boss pulls
our fucking fingers off
for not giving him
what he wants.
-All he wants is coke,
and we don't have that.
-That's a very astute
observation there, Griff.
No, we don't have
any fucking cocaine.
See, what we need,
what we need is a seller.
I'm gonna need you to get out
from under Valentino,
- because this situation,
- Oh, yeah?
- Right.
-it's not--
- You don't like that?
-It's giving me
a lot of razor burn.
It's killing me.
-Well, the second you meet
a drug dealer
that has time
to shave every day,
-I'll cut it for you.
-Mm, you could be the first.
-I don't think Valentino
appreciates a trailblazer.
-You could always get out.
-Wasn't looking forward
to this conversation.
-Let's say we pull you
out of the assignment.
I'm saying
pull out of everything.
-What do you mean, quit?
-Come on,
this job is a dead end.
The war on drugs isn't gonna go
anywhere anytime soon.
Yeah, no kidding.
-Just dousing a fire
with tequila at this point.
-I mean,
aren't you sick of this,
after everything
it's done to you?
After Rachel? Morgan?
-No, we're
not talking about them.
- Okay, I'm sorry.
I'm just...
I'm just sick of pushing up
a goddamn hill
only to slide back down.
I mean, Jesus Christ,
you armed a mass murderer today,
and for what?
For the hope that--that someday
we're going to be able
to put him in prison
for a few months.
I mean,
is that worth 30 bucks an hour
and a bullet to the brain?
-Don't forget
health insurance.
-Yeah, that's--
that's going to help
when Valentino dissolves you
in a fucking barrel.
-Oh, come on. Come on.
Hey.
That's not gonna happen to me.
-Well, it might,
because I'm pretty sure
you just said that he was
suspicious of someone.
It's not long
before he finds out you're DEA.
-What would we do
without this job?
-We could go away.
-Go where?
Where would we go, hm?
-I don't know.
Be far from here.
And that bag of cash,
that would pay
for a lot of beach time.
-We can have a better life.
This job has taken enough
from you already.
I gotta go.
-Goddamnit, Griff!
How did you even get in here?
-Chill out.
Did you forget we're criminals?
Your wiener.
-I can't believe this.
-I got you breakfast.
Tacos, extra lime,
just like you like,
and they gave you
a metric shit ton of onions.
So, don't talk to me too close.
By the way,
your OJ expired two weeks ago.
-OJ was there
before I got here.
Hey, I almost shot you
in the fucking head just now.
-Yeah, I know.
I almost shit my pants.
-Griff.
Man,
what are you doing here?
-I'm saving us.
-I found us a dealer.
-You spoke to Delgado?!
-Okay, whoa,
lower your blood pressure.
I didn't speak to anyone.
-My contact did.
-Sorry,
contact?!
What contact?
-Does it matter?
You asked me
to find us a dealer,
-so I did!
-A dealer?
You got us a rat
selling under Valentino's nose.
-Exactly,
and that's a good thing.
You know why?
Because we get our powder
and Delgado
gets flayed alive
for double-crossing his boss.
-It's a win-win, Abbott.
-Jesus fucking Christ.
-If you have
any other suggestions,
I'm all ears.
-Where does he want to meet?
-What?
What is this?
Where does he want to meet?
-Go down the road.
There's a gulch.
You'll see it.
-This is where Delgado
told you to meet him?
-Right on the dot.
Hey, plane crash.
Cool.
-Well, I don't like this.
Ridge like that,
all the spots for cover.
Hey, this is a kill zone.
-What are you, a Marine?
No one's gonna "kill zone" us.
Relax.
-I--I don't relax.
You should know this by now.
-Yeah, I noticed.
Spent eight months with you.
Your ass cheeks
are clenched so tight
you can make a diamond.
So, give it a rest.
-He's late.
We should split.
-Two minutes is not late.
-No, it's late
when you're dealing
under the table.
For all we know,
Valentino's figured us out.
He's probably halfway
through dipping Delgado
into a barrel full of lye.
-Or maybe he's just late.
See, what'd I tell you?
- Hola, Delgado!
Cmo ests, amigos?
-I'm not your amigo,
pendejo .
I'm sticking my neck
way the fuck out for you,
least you can do
is not butcher my language.
-And a big fat gracias
for that neck,
right, Abbott?
-You have the product?
-Yeah,
I have the product.
-Okay, then, why don't you stop
wasting daylight
and show us what's inside?
-What's his problem?
-Long drive,
no bathroom break.
-My problem
is you guys
picking this fucking deal spot!
-Relax, amigo.
If I wanted you killed,
I wouldn't hide my gun.
I'd pull the trigger myself.
-Ready when you are.
- El jefe was right.
You're loco, motherfucker.
Now where's the money?
-So,
we got a deal?
-Yeah, we have a deal.
-Great.
-DEA!
Everyone on the fucking ground!
-FBI! Nobody move!
-What the fuck?!
Is that a--?
-Badge! Yeah!
-You were undercover
the whole time?
-Me?!
You were!
-That's something
you better tell me!
-You, motherfucker,
sneaky, hiding.
-You're both fucking spooks!
-Hey, put that fucking gun down!
- Whoa, whoa, whoa!
-What?
-Watch your fucking--!
-I will plug you.
I swear to God!
-You put your fucking gun down,
Griff.
Put it down.
-You put yours down.
Piece of shit.
-That's fucking snipers.
He's not one of Valentino's.
That must be one of your guys,
right?
-What?
-What was your plan?
Lure me out here and then have
him finish up the job.
-He's not with me.
I'm FBI, dumbass!
We don't litter the place
with fucking land mines.
He's probably with you.
You're the one talking
about it being a kill zone
the whole time.
-Listen, listen.
I'll admit to you,
it's a pretty good
fucking fake badge.
-Fake badge?
-I almost believed
that you were a fed,
but then I realized,
of course,
you're not FBI,
because look at you.
You look like a child
playing fucking dress up.
-It's a character.
And I admit, the glasses
were a bad idea.
-So, who made it for you,
huh?
The fucking Aztecs?
The goddamn Latin Kings?
-Latin Kings?
You think I can infiltrate
the Latin Kings?
This badge is as real
as this Glock.
-Likely story.
-Yeah,
and you're with the DEA, huh?
Abbott,
is that your real name?
What, you watch
a Looney Tunes marathon
to decide your alias?
Is your middle name Norc?
So obvious.
No one on DEA drinks as much
as you do on the job.
-I drink like this
because I'm on the job.
-You know what, we don't have
fucking time for this.
You show me yours.
I'll show you mine.
Just like summer camp.
-Oh, I bet you're real used
to that one, huh?
-On three?
One, two, three.
- Shit.
-Give it back.
Give it back.
Come on. Come on.
- We good?
-Are we good?
No,
we're not good.
But I guess
this is all we got, so...
-Yeah, this was supposed
to get me off my desk job.
Short bust. Short bust.
You know what?
I love my desk.
I love to sit down
way better than this shit.
-What are you doing?
-They're caps, dude.
They're caps.
It's like a retainer.
You know how hard it is
to eat with these things.
And I swallowed one once.
- Good for you.
-My wife
hates these things.
For what?
Supposed to get me
a promotion.
-A rookie like you was up
for a promotion?
Well,
you are fucking fed.
-Yeah, well,
I'm actually 31 years old, okay?
So, our dynamic's gonna change
a little bit.
-We're talking
about experience.
I feel like
you're lacking in that, no?
-Fucking sniper.
Your--your phone's still good?
-No, I don't bring a phone
out into the field.
-What do you mean?
You don't--
you don't use a beeper,
-you creep?
-Beeper?!
How old do you think I am?
-Why are you like this?
-Because if this
weren't your first rodeo,
you'd understand the phones
are what get people killed.
-Really?
-Okay, okay.
I'll just go in blind,
all right?
-Yeah,
good luck with that.
- Get some--
-Who are you calling right
now?
-My handler in D.C.
He'll get us out of this.
-Oh, great.
Call a fucking fed.
I'm sure that'll pay off.
-No, no,
he's one of the good ones,
trust me.
He got me raised up
out of Quantico.
-When are you gonna get this
through your head?
There are no good ones.
There is just you
and the other guy.
-Just...
do you have a better idea?
-By all means,
give it a shot.
-Yeah.
-Sir.
- Griff.
-Sir.
Okay, the deal went south.
There's an assailant
on the ridge above us,
and they're firing down on us
with a sniper rifle.
- I'm sorry, kid.
No.
No, please.
I don't have it.
-Sir?
No.
-Hawthorn?
Hawthorn?
-Wait.
-Answer me!
-Who is that?
What happened?
-I--I don't know.
-What do you mean
you don't know?
-I think he got shot.
-Shot?
What are you talking about?
-I don't know, man!
-An FBI agent?!
-What the fuck!
- Whoa! Get here. Come here.
Come here.
-I'm gonna call 9-1-1.
-No, you are not!
You just heard an FBI head
get executed
and your first thought
is to call the local PD?
Didn't Quantico teach you
to smell out a fucking setup
when it's right in front
of your goddamn face?!
-Okay, okay,
you're right.
This is probably bigger
than beat cops.
-Yeah!
-Now, it's bigger than cartel.
They won't know anything
more than we do.
Ah!
What the fuck!
What's that sound?
-It's a jammer.
-How does he have that?
-He's military.
He's clearly a fucking pro.
- Well,
I'm glad you're impressed.
It nearly blew my eardrum out
and removed our only form
of communication.
-Hey, hey.
-Maybe not our only way out.
- Good idea.
That's what I was thinking.
-That's what you were
thinking, yeah, right.
-Any sign of him?
-Nothing,
not even a reflection.
Guy's probably closing
his scope cap
until he sees movement.
-Could be anywhere right now.
Could be flanking us.
-Yeah, well...
there's only one way
to find out.
-Found him.
-I see him.
One o'clock.
Asshole's just waiting for us
to poke our heads out.
-How kind.
-All right,
it's about 300 feet to get
to Delgado's ride.
-275, 280.
-Listen, an average sniper
can squeeze off
about four rounds
in a ten-second window,
but we are not talking
about somebody average.
I saw this guy double-tap
a cartel guy in the same sec.
-So, we're fucked.
-I'm saying is, if we're gonna
make a run for it,
we better do it fast.
Don't give him time to adjust.
-And the land mines?
-Let's just hope he laid those
on the perimeter, yeah?
-This plan
isn't giving me much confidence.
-The plan is
I will draw his fire.
You'll lay down cover,
and I'll grab the SUV.
-Ah,
no, I'm not gonna be bait.
We both go.
-That is just gonna double
the chances of him
hitting us. No.
-Oh yeah?
Well, it also doubles my
chances of you not driving away
and leaving me for dead.
We both go or no cover fire.
-Fine.
We'll cover each other
and just keep his sights moving
as much as possible.
What was that?
Just give me the mirror.
Fuck is wrong with you?
-Now!
-Move your ass, Abbott!
-Shit!
-Oh, my...
Did he get you, man?
Did he get you?
-It's just a scratch.
But listen, man,
I got lucky.
I don't think we'll have time
for both of us to go.
-What?
-I should just go
and then I'll come back
for you.
-No, no, no, no,
that's not the deal.
I covered you.
You cover me.
Capiche?
-All right.
Well, you better hustle up then,
because I can't wait long.
-No, yeah,
I'm coming.
Fuck it.
Go, go!
-Oh, my God!
-He's got a beat on you, man.
-No shit!
-Go!
-Oh, fuck.
He got me, dude.
Ow, ow! Holy fuck!
I'm gonna die!
-Hey, Griff.
He's reloading.
-Dude, that hurts so much
more than I thought it would!
Oh, fuck!
-Come, man.
You can't just lay there.
Let's go.
-Oh, it burns!
-I know it hurts,
but our window
is getting very small.
-You gotta get me!
I can't walk, man!
-Fuck, let's go!
- I'm dying!
- Let's go!
fucking girl.
Fuck.
Ow, ow!
Shit!
Ow, shit. It burns.
I'm dying, dude.
I'm dying.
-Hey, stop saying that.
You are not gonna die.
-I don't even
wanna be alive anymore, dude.
This hurts so bad.
You have no fucking idea.
-That's good.
Went straight through,
which actually
is a good thing.
-How is that a good thing?
I have a fucking hole
in my leg.
-I've dealt with a lot
of gunshots before.
It's way worse
if the bullet's still in there.
We just have to close it fast.
-Oh, come on!
Fuck you! Fuck you!
-Pressure's good.
Pressure's good.
- Come on, dude.
Chill.
How are you gonna close it?
-You still got
that fancy lighter on you?
-I can't feel my fingers.
-Hey, hey.
That's the adrenaline,
all right?
Just let it keep you awake,
yeah?
Now where's that lighter?
-Left jacket pocket there.
Yeah, there we go.
Next to the cigarettes.
-Yeah, I feel those.
It's fine.
Maybe you won't have the energy
to smoke anymore of those,
you know?
- What?
-You know, I'm no stranger
to getting shot myself.
It feels like a hot poker
running up and down your body.
Couldn't feel my fingers,
my tongue, nothing.
-Yeah.
-What are you doing
with the coin?
-This...
-Don't tell me.
-is a field cauterization.
-Oh, fuck.
-I got plenty of experience.
My first tour in Afghan,
I got shot in my ass.
-You think getting shot
in your leg is bad?
I didn't get a cool scar
to show the ladies now.
-You should
bite down on this.
Keep that silver tongue
of yours intact.
-Okay, do it.
-My pleasure.
There you go.
-And you're done.
You're done.
-Oh, I'm gonna throw up.
Ow!
-I know.
-Ooh.
I thought you said
you never been shot before.
-That's just
some undercover bullshit.
-What else
is undercover bullshit, huh?
-Well,
all those tacos,
you know, those ones
you got me every day.
-The Catalina Supreme.
Don't tell me, dude.
I drove ten minutes out
of the way every day for you.
-Listen,
I'm actually not a fan
of Mexican food in general.
Anything spicier than mayo
ruins my whole night.
-Well, Mexico is not
the right assignment for you.
-Why don't you bite down
on that?
-No.
-Here we go.
-How's your leg?
-Fuck you.
I missed.
- What is that?
You heard that, too, yeah?
- Yeah.
- From the car.
- I can't believe
I missed.
- I guess it's my job
to go check it out.
No way.
- You're lucky.
The wind saved you.
A still breeze a bit to the
left and I clip your artery.
That's no way to go out.
-Who the hell are you?
Just give in, boys.
Make it end faster.
I promise a quick death.
Just stand up.
I snipe your spine.
You won't feel a thing.
-You aware that you just tried
to kill two federal agents?
Two ex-federal agents.
-What?
What did he just say?
You were burned the second
you laid eyes on that case.
-What are you talking about?
Just think about what I said.
Do the noble thing.
Don't drag this out.
Will you face it?
There's no one out there.
-There has to be one channel
out there.
I got a contact at the border.
-Let me guess,
the pretty DEA chica
who wanted to give you
a cavity search.
-We're just co-workers.
- Yeah,
and these are healthy for me.
-Vasquez has a short wave
on her rig.
If she comes within range,
we should be able
to flag her down.
-How do you think
the sniper knew we were burned?
-Maybe he's
another Bureau suit.
You guys are always
fucking something up.
-You can't seriously
still think he's with me.
Bro,
he blew my fucking leg off.
-Sounds like
a good cover story,
if you ask me.
-You know what?
You're making me think he's DEA.
Probably wanted some piece
of the pie.
That's not the first time
some corrupt guy
in your department.
-See if it was the DEA,
we wouldn't have missed.
-But look,
if he is FBI,
he's not with me.
-Fair enough.
-Maybe Valentino found out
about Delgado.
-Might have us a sicario up
on that ridge.
-Not likely.
No, he's military.
A former, at least.
Ranger Corp, most likely.
Knows how to cover his tracks,
corner his target,
make his one gun
feel like an entire squad.
Asshole.
-What's he want with us?
-I don't think
he wants us at all.
I think we are in the way
of what he's really here for.
-We're sitting ducks out here.
-Unless we can turn the
tables.
Give ourselves
some sort of bargaining chip.
-The case?
Do you think the sniper's
doing this
all for some gator tails
with the boys?
-No,
I don't know for sure,
but there might be
something else in there,
something he wants.
-Well, we'd be able to find
out if we went back in time,
back out into the open.
You know,
last time that happened,
my leg exploded, so.
-Feel like your leg's
good enough to push?
-No,
but we're gonna do it anyway.
-Great.
Then you're steering.
-You ready?
-Go!
-Back seat.
-Yeah.
-Ow, ow, ow!
Hola, Griff.
-I need some help.
- What are you boys
up to in there, huh?
Oh, I see you.
-Maybe you can hurry this up.
-Yeah, yeah.
Shut up.
Come on, man!
Aim at him!
-Hustle up!
-Come on.
Ow, ow, ow, ow!
-What are you doing in there?
Move!
-Ah-hah!
Ah, it's in neutral.
-I'm out!
-Let's go! Let's go, let's go,
let's go, let's go, let's go!
-To the left.
-Okay, okay, okay.
-Oh, no, right!
Right, right, right!
-Oh, my God,
did you just run over a guy?
-Don't worry about it.
Just step over.
-Ow!
-Oh, God!
It's working.
-Abbott!
One piggy down.
-Wake up, pussy.
Train's leavin'.
-God! God!
-Thought I lost you there.
-You're not that lucky.
Now, goddamn push, goddamnit!
-Goddamn!
Come on!
-He's shooting out the tires!
-Just keep pushing!
-Ah, fuck.
Ah! Ah!
Oh, dude. Ow!
- No, no, no!
- Fuck, he got my leg.
The tire got on my leg.
He just hates this leg.
Fuck.
-Stop, dude, stop.
Please.
It's over.
-No!
-We're not going anywhere,
Abbott.
-Oh, why'd you stop?
Why'd you stop?
It's right there!
-Abbott, that's it.
We're not going any further.
-Fuck!
It's your leg.
It's always your leg.
You morons really think
I wouldn't shoot out the tires.
-Oh, this asshole.
-Oh, fuck this guy!
- Seriously,
now just poke those heads out.
-He's fucking playing with us,
man.
-Listen to me.
One of us has to go out there
and grab that case.
It is right there.
-Abbott,
I know you think highly of me.
-Yeah.
-I'm a maverick
and I'm a stallion, but
I don't think
I can do it, dude.
-Right. I know.
I know. I know.
Listen,
you saved me back there.
I'll go.
I'll go.
I'll do that.
-You can't go out there
without a suit of armor
or something.
- Griff.
Where--where the fuck
am I gonna get
a suit of armor out here, huh?
-I think
I know where we can find
the next best thing.
-I really hope this works.
-Well, thank God
for Delgado's paranoia.
Never thought I'd be saved
by a cartel member.
Can you move in that?
-Well, considering I just
gained about 50 pounds,
yeah,
I should be fine.
-Well, like I said,
you can have my vest too
and gain another 15,
if you like.
-No, no, I imagine you'll need
a little extra protection
for laying down cover fire.
-Guess that means
you trust me.
-I wouldn't push it.
-Well, regardless,
thanks, Abbott.
-It's Alex.
Yeah,
my real name's Alex Kelso.
Figured if I'm gonna die,
I should probably
just tell you my real name.
-Still think
I like Abbott more.
-Most people do.
-I'm Griffin Crawford.
-Wait a minute.
You use your real name
for undercover work.
-I couldn't remember
anything else at the time.
-Stop talking.
You stress me out.
I need to be focused.
- Okay.
On three. One...
-Two...three.
-Now!
-God damn it!
Mind over matter.
Fuck you!
-Aah!
-Ooh.
God,
he shot his dick off!
-You're a dick shooter now,
huh?
-What the fuck is wrong
with this guy?
Fuck this thing, man.
-Can you hurry up, Alex?
-I'm trying my best!
Shut up and shoot!
Oh!
- Okay.
Ow, ow, ow, ow!
-Keep going.
Just keep going.
Delgado!
All right.
No!
Come on!
-What are you doing?!
-It's fucking handcuffed
to him.
-Well,
can you drag him?
-Can I d--? No!
Do you see how big
this motherfucker is?
I gotta stand up
and get leverage.
-Give me a second.
-Oh, oh,
take your time.
I'm just having fun
with the rigor mortis crew
over here.
-Wait.
Do you still have your keys?
-What would I use
my keys for right now?
-Hit the alarm.
-The al--
Right, right.
- Okay.
-I...
I think I got him.
Go, go, go, go!
-Where is that
coming from?
-He's not using his scope!
-Come on, come on!
Go, go, go, go!
Come on, come on, come on!
Sit down,
sit down, sit down!
-Agh!
-Fuck, he got you.
-Nah,
it's just a flesh wound, man. -
No, it's not okay.
I told you to take my vest.
-Ah, just stop that!
It's just a scratch, man.
It's just a scratch.
Don't worry about it.
-Oww!
-Come on.
Okay.
-Damn it!
-Stay still,
stay still, stay still.
It's gonna hurt.
-Aahhhh!
Hey, hey.
At least now I'll get a cool
scar, eh?
-Not as cool as mine.
Okay, that was a good shot.
Cracked my scope up real nice.
A good shot
should always be respected.
-I did get him.
-Yeah.
- Ah.
It's only a matter of time.
You either eat a bullet
or die of dehydration.
Either way,
I can wait you out.
-Oh yeah, get him.
Get him.
Not so fast.
Abbott,
chill, chill.
Easy, easy.
-You assuming sack of shit. -
Get him.
-I spent a week
in an Afghan foxhole
with nothing but good thoughts
and a fucking bottle of water.
-Yeah.
-This will be nothin'.
-Yeah, yeah.
You get him.
Everyone thinks they can,
but they can't.
I'm sorry,
but I have a mission
and I always finish
my mission.
-He's a poet--
-Hey, man,
shut the fuck up.
Over and out.
-That was good.
That was good.
I...
I can't, I can't.
-Come on.
Come on.
Listen,
if we don't get this case open,
we both took a bullet
for nothing.
-You should
drink something.
-I'm fine. I'm fine.
-If you're dehydrated,
you're gonna cramp up.
-You know those things will
make you even more dehydrated.
-Yeah, and they also
give you cancer.
But...
I swear I'm trying to quit.
They're just the only thing
that keep me
from having panic attacks.
Honestly, I've never been
in a gun fight before.
-Hard to believe.
-I know.
Me, Griff,
your hero, your idol.
I'm not even scared of dying.
What I am terrified of
is them showing up
to my wife's door
and telling them our kid
doesn't have a daddy.
-You know,
I've never heard
the guy with a wife and a kid
taking an undercover job,
not willingly, anyway.
- Oh.
You were right about somethin'.
I fucked around
a bit too much after college.
I needed to make
a name for myself.
Maybe some money.
Kid was an accident.
I didn't even know I had a kid
'til I was putting
on the gold teeth.
I take it you're not married?
-I used to be.
Not anymore.
-What happened?
-It's the same thing
that's got you
chaining those Marlboros.
This job.
-This is embarrassing.
Move over.
Let me try.
Well,
here's your issue.
You were forcing it.
My brother used to keep
his Sports Illustrated
in a little case like this.
I very quickly learned
how to slip a lock.
Ha-ha, there we go.
That's it?
This is just drugs.
-Well, it can't be.
A sniper
doesn't kill five people
for a case full of cocaine.
-He also doesn't kill
an FBI head.
So, if this isn't about drugs,
then what is this about?
-I don't know.
-I thought we were gonna get
a bargaining chip!
Man,
this whole deal went to shit.
Our plan,
some fucking plan that was.
I was out there
shooting both of our guns.
Now, that little stunt
cost us everything.
Give me that!
Fuck!
Oh, fuck!
-What are you gonna name it?
-What?
-Well, I imagine you've put
some thought into it,
and I guarantee you your wife
has thought about it
every second of every day.
So, what name did you pick?
-Uh...
I don't know,
I...
I guess I always like
the sound of "Brandy."
No, no, no, no, no.
Speaking
from experience here,
do not name her
after a drink.
I named my baby Morgan.
People just kept
calling her Captain Morgan.
I hated it.
-You have a kid?
-Yeah.
Took after
her mother, thankfully.
-Is she fine
with her name now?
-You know, I don't know.
I haven't seen her
in a few years.
-Why haven't you seen her?
-Yeah.
Well, once I...
got out of the service,
we used to do some work
at the border.
Just routine stops.
This one time I pull over a
priest coming up out of Juarez.
And mind you,
I hate pulling over priests,
not from
any religious point of view,
but I just don't like
patting down a man
of the cloth.
But...
this time
I check the back of the truck,
and I find 15 kids, babies,
crammed in there.
Some of their arms
were broken
just to fit 'em inside.
Stitch shots,
bellies full of cocaine.
How do you look at your kid
after something like that?
-Okay, man,
Brandy's off the list.
Fuck!
What the fuck?!
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Ah, ah, ah. Calm down.
How is he still breathing?
Ubiystvo!
What the fuck?!
Ubiystvo!
-I wouldn't exactly say
what he's doing
is breathing.
All right,
I need a cylindrical object,
kind of like a pen
or something like that.
-Just let
the little prick die.
-Because he needs
to tell us what's happening.
Now, find the pen
or anything like it.
Come on.
-Okay. I--okay.
- Come on.
-Found a pen.
-Great.
-I wish I could say
I'm sorry,
but I'm not.
-What the fuck
are you doing?
-It's an
emergency tracheotomy.
His windpipe needs oxygen.
Otherwise, he'll die.
And this
is gonna give it to him.
Oh, fuck.
Yo, my God.
-Yeah, no, save it.
Listen to me.
Your lungs are filling
in with blood.
And I promise you,
you do not have long.
But before you go,
I need you to tell me exactly
why a military sniper
is working so hard to get
a case full of cocaine.
Your turn.
...eto vnutri...
eto... vnutri...
-Is he...gone?
-Yes, Griff.
Yes, he's dead.
-Yeah.
What was he saying?
Etro...Eto Vnutri?
-I mean, it sounds like...
like Russian.
-Like Russian?
How the fuck does a Mexican
drug runner know Russian?
-Any chance the FBI
taught you some Ruskie
in your time there?
-No, they nixed that course
once the wall fell.
But I did pick up a few words
from my wife.
Her parents
were former Soviet Union.
Etro vnutri...vnut...
Eto vnutri means
"It's inside."
-You got that
from what he just said?
-Yeah.
-But what is it?
-All right, listen up,
whoever you are,
we found your drive.
So, let's talk.
Who is Delgado, huh?
Is he CIA?
All right, you better start
spilling asshole,
otherwise this drive
is gonna end up in pieces,
and I know
you don't want that.
- You're in no
position to make demands.
-Actually,
I'm feeling pretty good
about my position.
We found the drive
that you need.
So, what is this?
You CIA?
- No.
But I take their calls
from time to time.
-You're not even a soldier.
You're just a murderer
for hire.
I used to be a soldier.
A ranger, you called it,
but that was a long time ago.
-Then tell me,
what was Delgado to you?
A Russian informant?
Was he your comrade?
Never met the guy
'til I plugged him
with a round today.
-Why don't you tell me
what's on this drive, huh?
Is this Russian
bank account numbers?
- That is above
both our pay grades.
All I know is Delgado
was a Russian defector
hiding out in Mexico
trying to make a quick buck.
-Who was he selling to?
- You should ask
your partner about that.
His handler set
this whole thing up.
Now that handler
has a bullet in his brain,
I think the two of you
got lots to talk about.
-Take it easy.
This is what he wants.
I wanted to tell you.
Shit got way out of hand.
-This whole thing
was based off of your tip.
-Fine, fine.
Hawthorn told me that there
would be some intel in the case,
but I didn't know
it was gonna be that,
and I sure as shit didn't know
he was gonna try
and fuck us over.
-Yeah, you tell me.
What was the plan
for me here today, huh?
Was I
your fucking fall guy?
-I was
just following orders.
I mean, we're both
being set up here.
Don't make
that guy's job any easier.
-Okay.
-You know I wouldn't
hurt you if I knew.
-That makes one of us.
You know, Griff...
count 15.
-Come on!
Abbott!
-You just keep
your head down.
-You're gonna need me.
Where are you going?
-Getting out of here.
-All right,
maybe you can wait me out.
I'll give you that.
But I'm pretty damn sure
that I can keep you out here
until the last drop of water
dries up
in that canteen of yours.
-Abbott!
-And I don't like that plan.
Here's a better one.
Ceasefire.
That isn't an option for me.
-Yeah. Well, if you want
to make it out of this gulch
with the drive,
you'll make it an option.
Here's what I'm proposing.
I'll stand up real tall-like,
keep my hands over my head.
Gun out of the picture.
You do the same.
Now,
I know you were a ranger,
and I'm pretty sure
they taught you
a little bit of honor.
So, why don't you showcase
some of that for me right now,
and we got a deal.
-Abbott, don't do it.
We have a deal.
-As soon as you pop
your head up,
he's gonna shoot it off.
-Yeah, well, what?
Am I gonna trust you?
-Yeah, kinda!
-We move on three.
One...
-Abbott.
-Two...
-Abbot, don't!
-Three.
Where's the drive?
-So, how do you want
to do this?
Now, I want you to back up.
Back up.
Keep going.
Just a little further.
-No, no,
I'm not an idiot.
You come down here,
or I'll smash this drive
under my fucking boot.
-There's another shooter!
-What?!
-Oh, fuck!
Fuck!
- Looks like my
partner showed up just in time.
Oh, fuck!
-Damn it, Griff!
This is gonna hurt.
-Oh, my God, whoa!
Oh, fuck, good, good.
Lying sack of shit.
-My first time flying private.
Fuck it.
Two, huh?
-Hold on, Abbott!
Fuck, he tied these tight.
Let's hope this yoga paid off.
Fuck!
Wow,
I can't believe I did that.
Okay.
-Come on, sweetheart.
-You don't have
to tell me twice!
You came back,
you beautiful son of a bitch.
-Ah, what can I say.
You're gonna make me blush.
-If you can get us out of here
safe,
then I'll give you a fat fucking
star.
-Dude,
I can't see anything.
-Oh, you should've
left me, man!
-Oh, well,
we can survive
better together.
Hold on.
-Hey!
Okay, we're good.
-Yeah, maybe no more
of that, please.
- Whooh!
- Ahh!
Please.
Hey! Left, left, left!
Left!
Oh, shit!
A bridge up ahead!
-I think
we're gonna lose him.
I think we're gonna lose him.
Abbott!
Abbott,
are you alive?
Abbott,
where are you?
You fucking assholes!
Good thing my partner
has a better view.
I'll let him finish you off
so I can collect my reward.
-No.
No, no, no, no.
Come on, man.
-It's over.
Let it happen.
-Found this baby
in the trunk.
Figured
you could use the help.
Hey, hey, come on.
Slow your roll.
You look like shit, brother.
You're fine.
You're okay.
Save the shock
for a Bureau shrink.
I don't have time for that.
-You saved me.
-No, I was just returning
the favor.
But, um...
I'm sorry
that I didn't trust you.
-It's okay.
I probably would have
done this same.
- Yeah, no,
actually, you wouldn't have
because I would have had you
in a headlock
before you got
the zip ties on me.
Copy. This is the border.
-Is that...?
-Over.
-Fuck.
Yeah, copy, copy.
Who is this?
- Alex?
-Vasquez.
What the hell is going on?
I got reports of gunshots
near the border.
Figured it was some kids
fucking around.
-No, no.
Vasquez,
it's not kids.
Maya, listen.
Griff and I got pinned down
behind an SUV.
There's a sniper out here,
and he's laying down fire.
Are you okay?
- Yeah,
no, we're still alive.
We're pinned down
just a mile south--
Oh, fuck. Shit.
-I'm stuck.
Are you gonna help me?
-Come on. Come on!
-Fuck.
What the fuck?
It's raining?
-Of course.
I offered you a quick death.
And instead,
you killed my partner.
I won't offer
that same kindness again.
I'm gonna pick you off
piece by piece
'til you beg for death.
Then I'll pick off even more.
-This guy sucks.
-What are you doing,
man?
-Fuck.
I can't see a glint.
-Yeah, no,
this time of night,
with this rain,
you're not gonna see
a fucking reflection.
-What do we do, man?
What do we do?
-Come on,
you always think of something
to get us out of this shit.
Not this time.
No, this time,
I'm beat.
-Hey.
No, no, no, no.
You're not doing
that shit right now.
-Hey, did I ever tell you
why I took this job?
-I have a feeling
you're gonna tell me.
-It's to help people.
Help good,
hardworking people
that I saw suffering.
It wasn't until today
that I realized
I am just dousing a fire
with tequila.
Sometimes I wish
I could just fucking go back
and do it all over again.
Actually make a difference,
so...
Yeah.
-You did make a difference,
Abbott.
You saved me.
Give me that.
Now, shut the hell up.
-Hey, hey, hey!
Don't come over here.
Don't come over here
and just stay right there.
There's...
-Alex?
-Vasquez?
- Jesus Christ.
- Vasquez?
-Are you guys okay?
-Get down. Get down.
Over here.
-Oh, my God.
You need an ambulance.
-No, no,
we're fine.
We're fine, okay?
Just tell me
that you brought back up.
-Yes, yes. Terrence and Dunn
are minutes away.
What the fuck is going on?
-Listen to me.
We need to get this to brass.
We need to do it now.
I can't tell you what's on it,
but the second Terrance
and Dunn get here,
we need to hop in the rig
and get out.
-Okay.
Was that all that
was in the case?
-No, no, there was--
there was cocaine
and everything
piled on top, okay?
It was a distraction.
This is what
they really came for.
This...
How did you know I was here?
-What are you talking about?
You told me.
-No.
Vasquez, no, I didn't.
There's no backup coming,
is there?
-Nice and easy, Alex.
- What the fuck?
-Shut up.
-I told you,
we should have run away.
-Your girlfriend
took a fucking deal!
-I didn't have a choice!
You might be okay dying
in this desert, Alex,
but I'm not.
And if you can't
help me escape,
someone higher up can.
-Vasquez,
what did you do?
-I found a way out.
-Maya,
you--you can't trust them.
-Alex,
give me the drive.
-You knew
I was on this key!
- Give me
the fucking drive!
-You want this key, huh?
Then you fucking take it
from me.
-I have the drive.
- Good.
Put it in your rig.
-What about them?
Cut them loose?
Leave them for me.
-Maya!
Hey, Maya, get...
Maya, get back here!
Vasquez!
Abbott...
Abbott...
Abbott!
-Those bullets
went screaming over her head.
He's pinned us down.
-No, we can make it
if we stay close to the wall.
You'll have more cover.
Now,
if she got here that fast,
that means
there's a checkpoint nearby.
So, we just need
to get to the car,
and then we can hightail it
to the border
to get the fuck out of here.
-Hey,
do you love your wife?
-What?
-What is her name?
Uh...
Alina.
-You love Alina?
-Yeah, dude,
I love my wife.
And you know what?
I can't stop thinking about how
pissed she's gonna be
if you keep asking
stupid questions like this,
and we don't get
the fuck home.
-We'll make it home.
Listen to me, Griff,
we can't keep running.
Not like this.
Even if we make it out
of this gulch,
he'll find us.
That's a lifetime
of looking over our shoulder.
That's you, that's Alina,
that's your whole family.
I don't want that.
Okay, we have
to stop him right here,
right fucking now.
Now look,
he shot the headlights
out of that car.
You know why?
-No, why?
-It's a scope.
He's using thermal vision.
We just gotta flush him out.
-So, what?
We just lay
out a trail of cocaine
and hope
he comes a-sniffin'?
-Something like that,
yeah.
Now, Vasquez has a flare
on her rig.
We pop that.
We shove
in the bastard's eyes.
-Burn him?
-No, no.
We--we--we blind him.
- How do we get him
out into the open?
-One of us
will have to be bait.
Don't worry, I got it.
-Well,
let's give him hell.
-Let's do it,
partner.
-I guess this one
we do technically owe
the cartel for.
Ready?
Three, two...
Okay, okay.
I got the flare.
Now, what?!
-Bait.
-Fuck.
-Come on out,
you coward bitch.
- Vasquez was a traitor.
She deserved what she got.
No,
you don't get
to talk about her.
Yah!
Come on. Come on.
Come on.
Hey.
You listen to me.
You're not making it out
of this gulch alive.
You're gonna die.
Alone.
Like your fucking buddy.
Here you are.
-He wasn't weak.
He was steel,
but you...
you're just flesh and bone.
-Let's do this.
-Listen, after I kill you,
I'm going to use
every resource I have
to hunt your daughter.
-Hey, cock shooter.
Let's see
how you take the heat.
-Get fucked.
-You know,
we're not much different.
Just men following orders.
We could both
walk away from this.
I just need to kill
your partner first.
-That's enough.
-Abbott!
Fuck.
Oh,
that's a lot of blood.
Um...
you're okay.
-I think this is it for me,
okay?
-No.
No, man, you're built
like a fucking ox.
You've been shot
like ten times.
Come on.
-Just a second.
Maybe...
maybe I'll do a little better
in my next life.
- Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck.
Abbott.
Whoa, whoa.
Okay, okay, okay.
You're alive.
-He shot my arm
and my fucking leg.
-Oh, my God,
I told you.
You're built like
a fucking ox, dude.
You're not gonna die here.
-I need help.
Help me up.
-Come on.
Jesus Christ!
Okay,
now that you feel better,
do you see what I did at all?
-Yeah,
it was great.
-It was awesome!
-The only problem is,
you didn't look very cool doing
it.
-Oh, horse shit.
Fucker.
Let's go get some food.
Let's go get some tacos!
-Ah.
Maybe Thai food this time?
-Thai food.
-Boop.
- Hands on,
Hands on, let's go.
- Don't laugh.
Come on.
The camera's rolling.
This is important stuff.
Here we go. Set!
Set.
And action!
-Oh, my God!
It's a zombie!
Fuck off!
-Now, she's a zombie girl!
Oh, God!
-I'm reloading.
-God, I don't know
what you're saying,
but it sounds like--
-Oh, my God!
That is fucked up!
-This is so fucked up.
-Oh.
Oh, God.
-I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry.
- And cut!
- Yeah, are you good?
- Yeah.
-Did that look good?
-So,
ending in Queensland.
Take 1 and mark--and B mark.
- Reset.