Operator: (On radio) Copy that. Over and out.
You gotta get these hinges greased, Mick. Come on!
Mick: The grease isn't the problem.
- (Grunts) - It's the hinge.
This is a creaky old dinosaur.
This old girl shoulda been retired 10 years ago.
(Chuckles) Yeah?
Yeah, well, they should have retired me 10 years ago.
Mick: Not you, Charlie.
You're in your prime.
I should know 'cause we're the same age,
and I'm in my prime.
(Charlie scoffs)
Mick: Hey, is that coffee still hot?
Yeah, it's hot enough.
Mick: All right, then. Could you do me a favor?
(Charlie scoffs)
You ever thought about, uh, buying a coffeemaker?
Mick: Coffeemaker?
You know, one that's got that milk froster thing?
Mick: Oh, yeah. Frother. I got ya.
Yeah. That way, then you can, uh...
Mick: Thanks.
You know, make your own cappuccino.
Mick: Ugh goddamn!
Hey, I thought you said this coffee was hot.
Charlie: What is this?
Dude, it's typical. What's our time?
Mick: I don't know,
but this truck needs to get movin'. (Grunts)
The game's gonna be startin' soon,
and the freeway's gonna be backed up.
- Oh, fuck! - Mick: Shit!
- What the fuck? - Charlie: Reverse!
- Dispatch, come in! - What the fuck
- are we gonna do now? - You know what to do.
- Follow protocol! - Charlie: Oh, shit.
- There's procedures for this! - Let's go! Reverse! Reverse!
Mick: I'm fuckin' trying! What the fuck?
Dispatch, come in!
Charlie: They're cuttin' the fucking doors!
- Mick: We're being hit by armed assailants. - Charlie: Shit!
Mick: Repeat, armed robbery in progress!
Charlie: They're comin' in!
Mick: They're cutting the doors!
(Mick groans)
(Muffled conversation)
Man 1: (Muffled) Get your motherfucking ass out here!
Operator: Bravo, come in! Man 1: Hands up!
Hands up in the air!
Operator: Follow protocol. Police have been dispatched.
Man 1: Let's move!
Operator: Come in, over. Man 1: Get the fuck out!
Operator: Come in, bravo 3729.
Man 2: Keep your hands away from your weapons.
- Hands away from your weapons! - Man 1: Let's move!
- Operator: Can you hear me? - Man 1: They don't pay you enough
to act a fool, let's go! Get your motherfucking ass down!
Charlie: All right! All right!
- Fortico 1377, alarm raised. - Man 3: Move!
Operator: First street viaduct.
Man 2: Fuck me.
Man 4: (On radio) Alarm registered.
- Man 5: Tires, now. - Man 1: Clear!
Man 5: Do what we say and you fucking live.
Operator: Bravo, two black-and-whites en route.
Approximately two minutes away.
Man 4: (On radio) Two units dispatched.
Incoming. Eta, two minutes.
Man 5: Two minutes!
- Operator: Bravo, can you hear me? - (Gunshot)
- Man 1: What the fuck? - Operator: Please respond.
(Gunshots)
Base to bravo, what's happening there?
Man 1: The fuck is going on out there?
- Man 5: Fuck! - Man 4: He shot two fucking guards, Elvis.
He shot two fucking guards!
Man 3: Number one, are we good?
Operator: Bravo, come in. Over.
Man 3: Are we good, number one?
- Man 5: We're good. - Operator: Base to bravo,
- what's happening there? - (Gunshots)
- What's your 20? - Man 4: Number one just shot a fucking... (Static)
Shot a fucking... (Static)
- Operator: Base to bravo, 3729, respond. - Man 1: What do you see?
Man 4: Incoming! Incoming on the right!
Man 1: Elvis, what's the play?
- Man 3: Five, incoming! - Man 6: I'm on it!
Man 3: Take the legs!
- (Gunshots) - Man 5: Fuck!
Man 1: Oh, my god. What the fuck?
Man 3: I said the fucking legs.
Three, take his gun.
Man 4: Okay, we got one minute. Let's go!
Exit west! We gotta go, Elvis! Come on!
Man 2: B-team, let's go! Let's go!
Operator: Come in, bravo, 3729. Bravo, please respond.
Man: Fortico security specialize in armed guard
cash pickup trucks and deliveries across la.
Our clients are made up of
large-scale retail department stores,
marijuana dispensaries, cash vaults,
casinos, private banks.
(Whispers) Could I get another one? Thank you.
(In normal tone) We're not federal.
We're essentially middlemen.
Hundreds of millions shifting through here every week.
We got 12 trucks, two or three guards in each.
A driver, a messenger, and a guard,
each moving up to 15 mil a day, and sometimes more,
which can attract unwanted attention.
I won't lie. It can be dangerous,
which is why we train you properly
and pay the premium rates,
so we can all sleep better at night.
Thanks.
Now, your background checks came back fine,
and your reference from
orange delta security was impressive.
That was a good company.
I'm sorry to hear it went bust.
Family?
(Sighs) Married. Divorced.
No one else?
Good. Stay focused. I like it.
But just so you know,
we lost a couple of guards a while back.
Killed on the job. A civilian, too.
A fuckin' tragedy,
and they still haven't found the scum who did it.
And that's why we've upped our game.
Sixty hours of firearms training.
Man 2: Patrick? Are you Patrick hill?
No, please. Don't get up.
Good to meet you.
Let's see. Hill... hill...
H. I'm gonna call you h, if that's okay?
They call me bullet, which is ironic
because I certainly don't move like one.
You ready for target practice?
Ready.
I saw you had your pistol license already.
So, this is the pre-assignment training course.
We got eight hours together,
popping cans off walls and the like.
You need to hit the 70% pass Mark.
There's some fitness which, by the looks of it,
shouldn't be a problem for you.
We just need to see how you are under pressure.
Shall we get started?
Whatever you say, bullet.
Well, that's quite enough of that.
Been a while, huh?
Little practice, I'm sure you'll get there.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Too far! Too far!
Pull up a little. Pull it up.
Look at that.
70%.
Just slipped in.
Any less, we'd be doing this again.
You won't be joining a formula 1 team anytime soon,
but you'll do for this job.
Let's get you suited.
How many we got coming?
(Indistinct chatter and laughter)
In that case, I'll get three pounds of ribs
and a bucket of wings for the kids.
Cough up, bullet.
Dude, I'm on the phone.
I don't care. $30.
- How much? - 30 bucks.
Wait for it, wait for it.
- Change? - Suplex!
- I want that money. - There you go, buddy.
Give me that dollar dollar.
- Woman: Forty-one. - Incoming. Thank you.
Forty-two's not gonna beat me.
- Fuck off, Dana. - Shirley: Come on.
You're not supposed to be in here anyway.
No, I think it's you
who's in the wrong changing room, Stuart.
Shirley: Come on. Let's look lively, people.
Chop-chop, goose. Show me your money.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new addition.
Dana: Here you go, Shirley.
May I introduce h.
Oh, she'll do.
Put him down, Dana.
Come on. I'll show you your locker.
This one's yours.
- You good? - Yeah.
Why, don't I look it?
No, buddy, you look like a shrink-wrapped Rolls-Royce,
in contrast to this car crash.
Meet hollow Bob and boy sweat Dave.
You look like you could do some pull-ups.
I'll put a 50 on you beatin' boy sweat here.
What's the matter with him? He looks good for it.
Yeah, that's what boy sweat thinks,
but he's also a cock.
Who's a cock?
You're a cock, Dave.
I reckon our man here could pull yours right off.
He looks like he could handle a cock.
Yeah, small hands.
Makes me very popular, and you look good.
What's that?
I said, uh...
I'm sure you'd win.
At what?
The pull-ups.
Oh, charming.
One of yours?
I've been lookin' for him.
I'll put him back in the collection.
H: Glad I could help.
Bullet: You know, you're making friends already.
It's worth getting to know Dave.
He's quite entertaining in an unintentional kind of way.
Bob: Yeah. He once killed a hamster
'cause he squeezed it too tight.
Bullet: And he can't write
without sticking his tongue out.
This is your temporary sidearm.
Just till you get your own.
I need you to love it,
- respect it... - (Gun clicks)
And bring it back in one piece.
Do they want us back in one piece, too?
Do you have a problem?
I don't know. Do I?
What happens if we're pullin' pistols
in a machine gun fight?
Then you retort with a positive mental attitude.
- Name? - He's h.
Like the bomb, or like Jesus h.
Well, if you can mushroom cloud or walk on water,
what you worried about machine guns for?
(Indistinct announcement on pa)
Bullet: It's the rock star's first day.
All right, lucky you got a soft drop, then.
Try to keep your piece strapped,
like he shoulda done on prom night.
You're just unhappy I'm happy.
Yeah, only man I know
that married the first woman he banged.
You're a cynical old dog, supe.
Super: But I still got plenty of bitches.
'Course he does.
(Door clicks)
(Door buzzes)
(Indistinct conversation)
Well, that's nice.
Who's your pal?
I'll explain later.
Dana: Jesus Christ, at least try to look busy, Shirley.
Shirley: What, you got another hot date tonight, Dana?
You're gonna love who your new partner is.
Just tell me it ain't the limey.
Stuart: The grand ol' Duke himself.
Fuck!
Boy sweat, you'll be happy to hear
that h is replacing sticky John.
- Thank you, Stuart. - You got it, bullet.
Stay out from under my feet, and we'll get along just fine.
Do you have any idea how dangerous this job can be?
Some idea, yeah.
No, you have no idea.
We ain't the predators, we're the prey.
Ooh.
Boy sweat's up front. You jump in there with him.
Whatever you say, boss.
Dave: Did you hear about the guards that were murdered?
You know, it happened right down there.
Come on, Dave, it's his first day.
What? He needs to hear this.
Don't engage. He'll forget what he said in a moment.
I heard.
It's a tragedy.
Yeah, what you didn't hear
is that I was meant to be driving the truck that day.
(Clicks tongue) Why wasn't ya?
I was sick.
Bullet: Hungover.
Sick. All holes.
And the last thing I needed was the feds in my face
trying to make out if I was involved somehow.
Lucky you had a strong alibi.
Fuck you, bullet.
He was staying at his mom's.
She knows how I like my eggs.
Bullet: This is a $2 million pickup for bank of the us.
Dave will stay in the truck. H, you're coming with me.
You get to meet the lovely ladies who work the tills.
Just be wary of hot Betty.
If you're lucky, she'll only take your fuckin' arm off.
(Bullet chuckles)
Godfrey, h. H, Godfrey.
- H. - Godfrey.
X marks the spot.
Godfrey, as always, a pleasure.
I like the way you handle that cart.
Where'd you learn that technique?
H: Spent a lot of time in supermarkets.
- Shopping. - (Bullet chuckles)
Bullet: I can picture it now.
A paragon of modern man on a wild sojourn,
stalking down the aisles, hunting for pop-tarts.
Pop-tarts are not really my poison, bullet.
I prefer to lose myself in the dizzy food coma
of synthetic cheese and impossible meats.
Bullet: What has the world come to?
A direct line of evolution,
from paleolithic man
to a diabetic house husband.
Harsh.
But true.
How'd your boy do?
Did he survive the hostile territory
of hot Betty and the menopausal milfs?
Did you make poo-poo, or is your diaper still clean?
He did just fine.
Hot Betty almost slid off her seat.
Oh, so there's juice in the old raisin yet.
Dave: (On radio) Wakey-wakey, sticky.
John: (On radio) 2411, clear to proceed.
Pull her in slowly this time, boy sweat.
Dave: Base, this is gamma reporting back.
Copy that, gamma.
Where's that boyfriend of yours?
They always gotta see the driver and messenger.
Otherwise, you ain't gettin' in.
John: Okay, gamma, you're clear.
At least your boy didn't fuck that up.
I still prefer sticky John.
Everyone prefers sticky John.
Mm, you're gonna love him, Dave.
He's got that exotic European thing workin' for him.
It'll take you a while to dial in.
Hasn't taken me very long.
I don't care what you guys think.
That man's a dark horse.
What do you mean by that?
That cat's overqualified for this game.
He's got history.
We're all overqualified for this game,
and we all got history.
Beer and pool?
Your first day's over.
It's a tradition.
Sure. Give me two minutes.
John: Well, look who it is, beauty and the fucking beast.
Bullet: Ain't you gonna put your card back, sticky?
(Reader chimes)
(Muffled laughter and chatter)
The point of the game is to get the ball in the hole.
Point of a woman is to shut the fuck up, Dana.
All that Ivy league education
is really workin' for you, boy sweat.
Pretty soon you'll all be workin' for me.
The power's in this big head here.
Well, it's definitely not in your little head,
or are you still blaming the beer?
Yo, jap's eye, you gonna take a shot, or what?
At least I'll still be here next week to take a shot.
What's that supposed to fuckin' mean?
He's already got your old job.
Word around the pool table is boss has eyes for the new boy.
What, flat-footed limey? I'd shit him.
Maybe you should say that to his face.
Maybe I will.
I spy with my little eye that I smell fear.
That doesn't make any sense.
Hey, John.
You're an idiot.
John: Fuckin' assholes.
Here comes the walk of shame.
John: Yo, action man,
can I buy you a beer?
Nah.
Sorry, uh...
You mind?
So, uh, where'd you work before, then?
Orange delta security, Europe.
(In British accent) Jolly excitin', was it, mate?
Yeah, spectacular.
You ain't much for talking, are ya, Mary poppins?
Oh, no, I can talk.
I just don't want to talk to you.
Let me buy you a beer.
Just make sure you drink it over there.
Anything else?
Bullet: I gotta give it to ya, h.
You're a real social magician.
First, you take his job,
and then you make him cry in his beer.
(Horn honking)
Dave: What is taking him so long?
It's a 10-grand drop.
He should have been back five minutes ago.
(Dave sighs)
Hey, bullet, what's taking you so long?
(Heavy breathing on radio)
Bullet, unless you found
some beautiful, blue-eyed latino boy,
you should be back by now.
(Heavy breathing on radio)
Bullet: Fuck, fuck!
(Grunting on radio)
Robber: You fucking look at me...
You see me, and you fucking die!
(Heavy panting on radio)
Bullet: Dave... (Panting)
Dave...
Robber 2: We're gonna fucking kill him.
(Dave breathing shakily)
Robber 3: (In distorted voice) Now, listen to me, ladies.
If you wanna see your girlfriend again,
you'll do exactly as I say.
Dave: Uh...
Um... (Gulps)
I have to call this... no! Uh...
There's a protocol for this. We have to drive away.
- We just drive away. - Sorry?
They don't want his 10 grand. They don't want his 10 grand.
The money's in the truck. We have $2.5 million in here.
If we take it away, they're not gonna hurt him.
They're not gonna kill him for 10 grand.
Dave,
you need to pull yourself together.
You need to reconsider this.
(Shouting) Reconsider?
That's why they have the fucking policy!
You don't wanna do this,
you can get out of the truck now.
(Shuddering)
But we're not leaving him behind.
He's one of us.
It's only money.
In short,
I'm getting him back.
Robber 3: (On radio) Stop fucking around.
You have one minute before she dies.
Now, turn the key and drive,
and I will tell you when to stop.
You gonna drive, or you getting out?
Oh, shit.
This is such a bad idea.
(Indistinct chatter)
Robber 3: (On radio) Take the next left.
Now, stop the truck.
- (Grunting) - Bullet: All right. All right.
Robber: Get the fuck over here.
Robber 3: We got your fucking friend.
He don't mean shit to us.
They're serious!
- (4grunts) - (Bullet groans)
Robber: Shut the fuck up.
Robber 3: Open the fucking doors,
and pick up the money, and throw it in the flatbed.
You open it, they're just gonna kill all three of us
and take the money anyway.
Dave, you just worry about
putting your arsehole back in your arsehole,
and leave this to me.
Fuck!
Robber 1: This guy's fucking around. He's throwing
- bags on the floor. - God fucking damn it.
Now, listen up, fuckboy.
I said throw the money in the fucking flatbed.
Try to get clever again,
and old boy's getting a face full of shit.
(In distorted voice) Now, aim fucking straight!
Just do what he says.
These guys are fucking serious.
Robber 1: Get it in the truck next time, you fucknut!
Sorry, pal.
Oh, fuck!
(Gunshots)
Fuck!
Dave: Please! Put the gun down!
Just let them take the money!
You're gonna get us fucking killed.
(Grunts)
Robber 1: Fuck, go, move!
Dave: Please stop!
Just give 'em the fucking money!
Are you fucking insane?
(Gunfire)
Dave: Fuck! Fuck!
(Robber grunts)
Bullet! Bullet!
Who is this fucking lunatic?
- ({gunshots) - (Glass shattering)
(4gunshot) 4yelps)
(Groaning)
- (4gunshot) - Ahh! Fuck!
Jesus Christ.
Who do you work for?
(Chuckling) Suck my fucking dick!
What did you say?
I said suck my fucking dick!
Suck your own dick.
(Sighs) You all right, Dave?
Did you make poo-poo?
(Indistinct conversation)
Thank you for that.
(Bullet exhales)
Last but not least, Mr. Hill.
Okey: Well, you're all sticking to the same story.
That's what happened.
What I don't understand
is how you managed to take down six men
without even so much as a scratch.
Well, you gotta admit it's impressive.
He saved his partner's life.
What about your firearms experience?
Your shooting was unambiguously precise, yet
your training scores were decidedly average.
Barely even passed.
Kill or be killed. (Exhales deeply)
Seemed to focus the mind.
All right. (Clears throat) Well, there's something else.
We'd like you to take a look at this video.
It's the security footage
from the raid on the fortico cash truck before.
When the guards were killed.
Uh, I can't watch this again.
Okey: Step outside, by all means.
We just want you to let us know
if you think there's any connection
between this robbery
and the men you encountered before.
You, uh... you all right to keep watching?
Yeah. I'm all right.
Okey: (Muffled) Mr. Hill?
Anything ringing a bell?
Mr. Hill?
Could they be related in any way?
- (Muffling stops) - Any connection, Mr. Hill?
Okey: You sure?
I'm sure.
Okey: All right, Mr. Hill,
we'll pick this up another day.
Are we done?
Yeah, we'll be in touch.
Visit the therapist. Rest up.
Thank you, Mr. Hill.
Patrick, can I have a word?
We have a policy.
The shrinks advise
that employees be taken off the front line for a month
following violent incidents,
and longer if lives were lost.
So, we're gonna transfer you to desk duty,
in case of PTSD.
Do I look disturbed?
No. No, you don't.
But then, these things take time to manifest,
to percolate.
It's with your best interests at heart.
You hired me to do a job. Did a job.
No, we hired you to move money.
You hired me to protect money.
Man: Mr. Hill.
Hey, I'm Blake halls. I own fortico.
I wanted to congratulate you for yesterday
and to thank you in person.
What you did deserves credit.
You're a real hero,
and that's not wasted on me.
Why don't you take the rest of the day off
while Terry and I discuss your promising future?
Terry, we need that guy in the field.
If we'd had him last year, we wouldn't be in this mess.
He's exactly what we need,
and the publicity for fortico has been very positive.
Plus, have you heard the crews talking?
They're inspired.
So, don't punish him, promote him.
(Line ringing)
Agent: Well?
Yes, it was him.
Oh, it had him written all over it.
Question is, what was he doing there?
I think we know what he was doing there, boss.
Oh, clever fucking you, Hubbard.
It's called sarcasm.
Hubbard: What do you want us to do?
Not a fucking thing. Let the painter paint.
Hubbard: Do you have any idea what would happen to us
if anyone found out
that we let the fox in the fucking henhouse?
The bureau's been trying to catch this man for 25 years.
We 're just gonna let him sit on hundreds of millions?
Money doesn't mean a thing to him.
Listen, there's a reason why I chose you two.
Because we have the same priorities.
Now, listen to me very carefully.
As far as you're concerned,
he's just a regular guard doing a good job.
Do we understand each other?
- Loud and clear. - (Beeps)
"Let the painter paint"?
What the fuck does that look like?
(Knock on door)
Fortico personnel files,
pictures of Dana's family,
and (sighs)
The autopsy report.
(Faint chatter on speaker)
Man: (On speaker) You hear me?
Out of the fucking car!
Face down, motherfucker! Come on!
Show me your fucking hands!
Face down on the ground right now!
- (Gunshots on speaker) - Man 2: What the fuck?
Man 1: Face to the fucking ground!
(Grunting on speaker)
(Gunshot on speaker)
(Gun clicks)
Seems you can walk on water, after all.
Keep up the good work, soldier.
Man: Nice one, man.
(Door buzzes)
Guard: Be my guest.
All right, brother.
(Applause)
- Man: Yeah, man! Let's go! - (All cheering)
Jump on up, big boy.
H: We should get takeout. From the blossom.
The noodle soup at Neptune's is the bomb.
I prefer the blossom.
All right.
You gonna call the order in?
I'm busy.
I can see that.
- Who's this joker? - (Motorcycle engine revs)
What the hell's going on?
Robber 1: Move it! Get the fuck back!
Robber 2: Get down!
(People clamoring and screaming)
H: Reverse! Reverse!
Bullet: I can't fucking see!
(Cran king)
Gamma to base, we have a code red.
John: Gamma, this is base. What's your location? Over.
Robber 3: Port's covered!
Bullet: Chinatown! Broadway and hill.
Repeat, code red in progress.
John: All right, gamma, just follow procedure.
- Stay in the truck. Over. - (Coughing)
Robber 3: Get out of the fucking truck!
John: Police have been dispatched.
Robber 3: Come on, get out of there!
Robber 1: Get out of the fucking truck!
- (Continues coughing) - John: Gamma, come in.
Robber 2: On the ground! Get on the fucking ground!
Robber 3: Open the fucking doors!
John: What's your status? Over.
Robber 3: Get down!
Get down!
(Sirens approaching)
Get down on the ground!
You got three seconds!
So... so... So, let me get this straight,
they just walked away?
(Shouting) Get in the fucking Van! Move it!
Robber 1: Let's fucking go now!
Robber 2: Get the fuck out of here!
(Tires screech)
(Both panting)
Doors were open.
What the fuck was it, Mike?
It was the...
Yeah.
Turned back around and left.
No, I'm sorry...
But what Terry is trying to say is that you're a legend.
And if you keep this up,
you won't just be employee of the month,
you'll have your own calendar and merchandise.
Now, get out there and keep crushing it.
Why are you so cynical?
I'm starting to think he's a psychopath.
- (Reader chimes) - I hear h is for hero.
Drink?
It doesn't feel right.
It was as if he recognized h.
Like he saw a dark spirit.
What are you saying?
Bullet: I don't know what I'm saying.
He's not a cop.
Doesn't smell like a cop.
But if he's not a cop, what is he?
He's a dark fucking spirit.
(Dana inhales sharply)
Put that on.
Meet me next door.
I told you that first day...
I don't trust him.
What the hell are you doing?
Sit down.
I'm not fucking sitting down. I wanna go back to bed.
Dana. Sit down.
You got 10 seconds to explain this.
I'm not telling you anything.
Dana.
It's very important that you take my inquiry seriously.
I take it very seriously
that you think you can interrogate me
in my own fucking house.
(Gasps) Fuck.
Jesus Christ, okay, it's my savings, all right?
The fuck has it got to do with you?
Dana, you're not listening.
(Yelps) Fuck! Jeez, all right, all right, all right!
Okay. (Hesitates) Please stop.
(Dana breathing heavily)
Sit down.
(Panting)
I found it.
Okay? It had been signed for one day
by the staff at grande liquor,
and they missed it. It was in the trolley, so...
You stole it?
Yeah, I fucking stole it.
It's 125,000. It's...
It's my retirement fund.
You working with anyone on the inside?
I don't know what the fuck...
Think carefully before you answer the question.
The retirement fund is yours.
But if it comes to light that you're not telling me
something that I need to know,
I want you to understand
how resourceful and serious I am.
On the table is a picture of your parents.
Had it taken last week.
I got your contacts...
I know who you love...
And I do bear a grudge.
We understand each other?
Good.
Boy: They're saying that climate change
is a natural phenomenon,
rather than an artificial phenomenon.
So how do you explain global warming?
The ice caps melting?
Well, what melts up there reforms down there.
Do you know why they call the arctic the arctic
and the antarctic the antarctic?
No, Dougie, I don't.
That's why I pay for you to go to good schools.
"Arktos" means "bear" in Greek.
"Ant" means "without."
Hence, ant arktos,
"without bears."
Up with, down without.
Good news for ice cubes, bad news for polar bears.
What time does the game start?
6:30. We've got ages.
What do you wanna do?
I don't know, grab some food?
(Cell phone ringing)
Sure.
Hello? What is it, Mike?
Mike: We've got a problem with the job.
We're gonna need you to put eyes on the truck.
Dougie, go get a coat, will ya?
It's not gonna rain.
Dougie, coat.
But why?
'Cause I'm your dad, and I said so.
Get someone else to do it.
(Sighs) I can't, boss. There is no one else.
It's gotta be you.
Joe, two fuckin' minutes!
H: I'm with my son, Mike.
You know Dougie's over here on holiday,
and it's the only time I get to see him.
It's your fuckin' job. You do it.
Mike: Understood.
Brendan was on it, but he got knocked off his bike
by a drunk driver.
Make sure the boss knows it's not my fault.
It's a drunk driver.
Now, he's with the police right now, making a statement.
Otherwise, he'd find a way to be there.
There is no one else.
I'm out of town,
moggy's surveying the depot.
I'd help if I could, Mike.
But my eyeballs are on the depot.
Then postpone it.
Mike: Oh, we can do that if you want,
but it's gonna set us back three months of recon.
We need to know the route. If they turn left or right.
That's all you have to witness.
Yeah, and there's no danger to it at all.
You can stand back a thousand yards.
Didn't you put trackers on the truck?
Mike: They scan the trucks
every time they return to the base.
We can't do it digitally.
We gotta put eyes on it. And,
- (boss? 4beeps)
Tracking you on your phone right now.
You're blocks away. Ten minutes.
And I repeat, no danger.
Dougie: Dad?
- Happy? - Happy
(Indistinct chatter)
I'm starving. Fancy a burrito?
You don't even like burritos.
I know, but I'm starving.
Sure.
I'll be two minutes, okay?
Keep the doors locked. Don't go anywhere.
All right.
Chef: Yes, sir?
Two burritos, please, sir.
Chef: You got it.
Go ahead, Mike.
Mike: I can see you there.
Now, is there some gates on your left-hand side?
H: Yeah.
Mike: Now, in a minute,
those said gates are gonna open,
and that said minute is now.
(Engine starts)
All I need to know from you
is if that truck is turning left or right.
Latter.
Charlie: You know, make your own cappuccino.
Mick: Ugh goddamn!
Charlie: What is this?
(Muffled thudding)
(Muffled gunshot)
Man 1: Yo, out of the fuckin' car! Come on!
Don't fuckin' look at me! Out of the fuckin' car!
- (Line ringing) - (Breath trembling)
All right, Mike.
Is my day done?
Automated voice: Your call has been forwarded to...
Man 1: You hear me? Out of the fuckin' car!
Face down, motherfucker! Come on!
Show me your fuckin' hands!
Face down on the ground right now!
There you go.
Man 2: Do what we say, and you fucking live.
Man 1: Face to the fucking ground!
- Thank you. - Chef: Have a good one.
Man 3: Two minutes!
({gunshot) (Grunnng)
(Gasping)
Man 3: Fuck!
Man 4: Number one, are we good?
- Are we good, number one? - Man 3: We're good.
Dougie?
(Imperceptible)
(Gunshot)
(Machine beeping)
(Touchscreen beeping)
(Rapid beeping)
(Muffled pa chatter)
Try not to, uh, move too quickly.
You're in a hospital.
You were in an accident, you were shot at.
Six bullets removed,
and three operations.
Two life-saving.
You lost a fifth of your blood.
You've... you've got a warrior's spirit, Mr. Mace.
What about my son?
Dougie.
(Imperceptible)
Woman: My beautiful boy.
And now, he's gone.
He looked up to you.
(Sobs)
He was obsessed with you.
It wasn't my work, Jane.
(Jane 3033)
You killed our son.
(Jane crying softly)
And still, you have nothing to say.
(Sniffles)
You are a cold, cold cunt.
(Door opens)
(Door closes)
Agent: My condolences for your loss.
Before you ask, we have no leads on this thing.
Which is kinda strange for a job this big.
Somebody knows something.
Somebody always knows something.
It's just I'm not allowed to ask the hard questions.
Here's the shit list.
Knock yourself out.
Need any of them to live?
I don't miss anyone that your boys have buried so far.
Then you're gonna let me do this my way.
I can do in two weeks
what you only wish you could do in 20 years.
If their names are on that list,
you can do your worst.
Just be mindful
that I can only look confused for so long.
The floor is yours.
Moggy: Brendan.
You need to quit that.
I can hardly breathe here.
Moggy: It wasn't your fault.
It was a drunk driver.
(Chuckles dryly)
That's easy for you to say.
It's his son, moggy. His only son.
Hey, we all fucked up.
So, let's accept responsibility
and not turn on each other in there.
Brendan, retain your dignity.
(Door buzzes and opens)
Mike: It's a fuckin' tragedy, boss.
Moggy: We all loved Dougie and our sympathies run deep.
Brendan: It's more my fault than anyone's,
and we'll do anything to find who's responsible.
I need to know who pulled the trigger.
I need a face.
Moggy: Of course.
And we've been on nothing else,
trying to get answers.
It's not any of the usual suspects.
(Man speaking nervously in Spanish)
You're gonna tell us what we wanna know.
This is your last chance.
The tree has been shook.
And it's been shook hard.
I want a name.
Anyone with the skillset or the form.
We've run out of names.
We've deployed large amounts of time, money, and effort...
- (Camera clicks) - In the search forjustice.
It was a long list.
Not good enough.
Moggy: Understood,
but we've scorched the earth.
H: No, it's not understood.
You started by saying you'd do anything,
but what I'm hearing is
you think you've done everything.
Understood.
Male singer: (Singing) I hear the train a-comin'
it's rollin' 'round the bend
and I ain't seen the sunshine
since I don't know when
I'm stuck in folsom prison
and time keeps draggin' on
but that train keeps a-rollin'
on down to San antone
when I was just a baby
my mama told me, "son..."
The fuck?
Moggy: Make a sound and you're dead.
- "Always be a good boy" -what the fuck?
- (Woman screaming) - (Man grunting)
Get off me!
"Don't ever play with guns"
all right, Jerome, what do you think?
It's getting late. We all got places to go.
So, why don't you save us a lot of time
and you a lot of trouble
and tell us what we need to know?
Trouble?
You motherfuckers got no idea how much trouble you in.
Do you know who the fuck I am?
Yeah, I know exactly who you are,
and that's why you're here.
So, I can see it's gonna be along night.
Let's get started.
Bag him.
(Grunting) You motherfuckers!
Male singer: (Singing) I hear the train a-comin'
get the fuck off me!
Fuck you! (Screams)
-It's rollin' 'round the bend -(Groaning)
(Grunting)
And I ain't seen the sunshine
since I don't know when
(Jerome screams)
When I was just a baby
my mama told me, "son...
"Always be a good boy
"don't ever play with guns"
(gasping)
- (Jerome coughs) - All right, take it off.
(Gasps deeply)
(Coughing)
I don't think he knows anything.
(Mike sighs)
(Jerome coughing)
We'll see about that.
I hear you're a tough lad and a hard worker.
Good for you.
But you're still gonna give me a name.
(Scoffs)
If not for your life, for hers.
(Grunts)
Jerome: What the fuck?
Don't touch her! I said don't touch her!
Don't fucking touch her!
- Leave her out of this! - Bag her.
- (Yelps) - Ueromeshouts)
(Whimpers)
Jerome: All right.
The only fuckin' name. (Panting)
(Grunting)
(Sighs)
(Woman choking)
The gashi brothers.
(Gasps)
(Panting)
(Jerome coughs)
If it's anyone, it's them.
Fucking dark.
Porn, trafficking, witchcraft, kids,
home invasions.
It's talked about there's cash trucks, too.
But you did not hear this from me,
and if you did,
kill me now.
(Woman sobbing)
Give him 200 grand.
Put the keys in the car.
(Lighter clicks)
(Oldie music playing faintly on speaker)
Pass me the water.
- You all right? - (Sighs)
No, I'm not.
It's a shitshow.
Fucking reptiles.
There's kids involved.
(Exhales)
Got a feeling I'm gonna be cleaning up all day.
(Mike sighs)
Mike!
(Sighs)
(Woman crying softly)
Mike: Here you go, sweetheart.
Drink some water.
There's a good girl.
(Girl struggling)
- (Mike sighs) - (Girl whimpering)
- (Objects clattering) - (Girl crying)
- (Man grunts) - (Object strikes)
(Girl screaming)
(Girl sobbing)
How much is in the pot?
I'd say 2.5.
So, what do you think?
I think
it isn't them.
You gotta tell the boss.
Moggy: They're filthy fucks.
And they have done trucks, but they ain't our men.
That job was above them.
They're more about the smash-and-grab.
Looks like there's two and a half mil,
which they confessed to,
but, uh,
what do you want me to do?
Don't want you to do anything, moggy.
How old are these girls?
(Girl crying)
Not old enough.
- (Gunshots) - (Man groans)
Give the girls the cash.
Let 'em go.
(Crying continues)
(Sighs)
(Mike exhales deeply)
Can I speak candidly, boss?
I don't think we should do this again.
Understandably, you're...
You're not in your right mind just now and
you need a break.
But we can't continue
to handle business this way, otherwise
some fucker's gonna come for us before we can get to them.
In truth,
we need a different approach.
It's gotta be an inside job.
You're right, Mike.
I shouldn't have got you involved.
I'm gonna go back to London for a while.
Woman: Patrick.
Patrick? I'm a brit, not a Mick.
So, your mom's Irish.
Usual affair.
This time, you're Patrick hill from lewisham.
You've got a driver's license, passport,
IRS papers with a full tax history,
and medical records.
All your criminal checks are clean.
You've got 25 years' worth of employment,
with references working in Europe
and the same for the previous addresses, too.
Your employment history has been inserted
into the delta orange security system.
So, should anyone check,
you've worked there for 11 years.
You even finished college,
and have held the same gym membership since 2011.
As requested, you have your pistol license,
and finally, the hotel has been arranged.
It's another brand-new you.
Kirsty, one more thing.
Get me a copy of the coroner's report.
You sure that's a good idea?
Just do it.
Terry: And your reference from
orange delta security was impressive.
Family?
H: Married. Divorced.
Terry: Anyone else?
Terry: It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hill.
(Camera clicking)
You ain't much for talking, are ya, Mary poppins?
Let me buy you a beer.
Just make sure you drink it over there.
- Kirsty: The autopsy report. - (Breath trembling)
Man: (On speaker) Show me your fucking hands!
Face down on the ground right now!
Face to the fucking ground!
Dougie: Please.
(Gunshot on speaker)
Man: How are you holdin' up, Sam?
What's to say?
I wake up late, watch TV,
drink a beer and watch more TV.
Maybe convince ma to give me a few bucks,
so I can buy more beer and
watch TV until I'm drunk enough to fall asleep.
Did I mention I watch TV?
Man: You're awfully quiet, Brad.
I'm not quiet.
I'm bored.
Man: Bored of what?
Not fuckin' working.
We're built for combat, not daytime TV.
The afghanis treated us better than our own.
I wish I was back in the unit.
Boredom's more dangerous than bullets.
Give me an enemy I can fuckin' see.
How about you? You workin' yet, boss?
Still part-time at the mall.
Costin' more than I'm making.
If it wasn't for Amy's parents,
we'd be on the street.
Jan: Yeah, it seems like Carlos is the only one
who landed on his feet with the oil tycoon.
So, I'm there from 6:00 in the mornin' to 12:00 at night.
This motherfucker's drippin' in gold,
and I haven't seen a dollar in overtime yet.
One minute, we're killin' arabs,
the next minute, we're wiping their ass.
Afghanis aren't arabs.
They're not? What are they?
Clue's in the name.
Jackson: Afghanis.
(Scoffs) Whatever, they're not Americans.
Know what I wanna do?
I wanna lift one of those precious ornaments
until I get my motherfuckin' overtime pay.
And why don't you?
Why don't I what?
Make them pay.
They owe us.
Why you askin' me?
Ask sarge.
Do they keep cash?
What's that?
Jackson: That is it.
That's fuckin' what?
Jackson: That is what is left
after we washed it through the system.
Sam: What's on the table?
Jackson: 110.
Tom: Two Rolexes, a patek,
6-carat ring, chains, 40 grand cash.
Carlos: Wait a minute.
I got hit over the head and lost my job
for, like, 18 gs apiece?
Sam: I thought we worked out over half a million in solids.
We did the legwork, we made the calls.
Brad: Number one. Jan: Go ahead, four.
Incoming.
We spent the sweat, we dealt with the fence.
That's what we get.
Jan: Salaam alaikum.
Jackson: Even split.
We're not the mafia. We're soldiers.
Nah, somethin' ain't right here.
You trying to say something, jan?
Fuck off, jan.
Go find another bone to chew.
You'll break your teeth on this one.
And stand up when the boss is talkin'.
(Exhales deeply)
Jackson: We could change it, though.
Cut out the middleman.
What does that mean?
Jackson: We want cash.
We go after cash.
We got a guy on the inside.
Inside of what?
Cash trucks.
We took in 1.18 million.
- (Whistling) - Carlos: That's three years'
worth of work in one day, baby!
That's $168,571 each.
Sam: That's a lot of paper right there.
Carlos: Hold on... Hold on a second,
that's split seven ways, not six?
Brad: Thirty seconds.
There might not be a middleman,
but there is a man on the inside.
He needs a slice.
And who is this inside man?
You don't need to know.
Jackson: Uh-uh-uh. Yes, motherfuckers, these are guns,
and we will not hesitate to kill you.
Carlos: Hands behind your back.
Jan: Don't be a hero. It's not your money.
Brad: Show me your fuckin' hands, white boy.
Jan: Put your hand behind your back.
Jackson: What's your driver's name?
If you lie to me, I'll fuckin' kill you.
- Chad. - Jackson: Chad fucking what?
Chad Reed.
Jackson: Horrible name.
Gentlemen, we have found our opportunity
to stand tall again
after years taking it staring at our laces.
Don't quit your day job just yet.
Rhythm as normal. Be smart.
Don't go buying anything flashy.
Just what you absolutely need. Do you hear me, jan?
Oh, yeah. Loud and clear, boss.
Tom: Groceries, good. Sports cars, bad.
Jackson: This isn't retirement money.
But we play it right, it could be.
- (Radio beeps) - Chad: Yo, Dave, come in.
Come in, Dave.
Just checkin' everything's as it should be.
Jackson: (Over radio) All good here, Chad.
Be out in two.
Did that just go as smooth as I thought it did?
Yeah, don't count your chickens just yet.
Officer 1: Hold up.
Officer 2: Gentlemen.
If I could just get your signatures.
- How's it goin'? - All right.
- Fantastic. - Thank you.
Brad: I'm telling you now,
there's more gold in these hills.
Jan: Yeah. And we haven't even tapped into our skillset.
Brad: Monkeys could've done that job.
So, let's push ourselves, then.
Jackson: Easy, boys.
Walking before running.
Yeah, I don't know about you guys,
but I feel like I've been walkin'
for a long fuckin' time.
All: (Singing) Happy birthday to you
happy birthday to you
happy birthday, dear Jack
- (laughter) - Man: Happy birthday, daddy!
Happy birthday to you
- (cheering and laughing) - Sam: Yeah!
Oh... (Clears throat)
It's gettin' harder and harder.
(Clears throat)
I know it is my birthday,
but I've got a present for you.
What are you sittin' on, old man?
More work, but with a significant bump.
It's another truck.
This time, there's gonna be at least 6 mil inside.
- (Whistles) - Now, we're talkin'.
Sam: Well, it's a lot more profitable than killin'arabs,
and it makes my blood flow.
(Guests chattering)
Sweetheart, what about the kids?
Yeah, feed them first.
Bad animals, bad.
Jan: Sorry, Mrs. Ainsley.
Here, let me help you with... Help you with that.
Jan: Is the intel good?
We got a good inside man.
He's one of us.
Served under me back in the day.
Well, I'm in.
I just wanna get back in the field.
I like the money, (chuckles) But I fuckin' love a mission.
Yeah, but what's the downside?
We're gonna be way more exposed,
and it will warrant significant planning.
There will be six weeks of training and recon.
Jackson: Three minutes.
Who the fuck are these clowns?
Gonna be a problem?
I don't think so.
Five, on the car. Handle it.
On it.
Time to go to work, boys.
You gotta get these hinges greased, Mick.
Charlie: What is this?
Mick: Freeway's gonna be backed up.
Charlie: Oh, fuck! Mick: Shit!
Let's go! Reverse! Reverse!
(Tires screech)
Operator: (On radio) Unit 14, clear.
Tom: Still no response.
Jan: Thirty seconds.
Sam: Yo, out of the fuckin' car, come on!
Don't fuckin' look at me! Out of the fuckin' car!
Brad: They don't pay you enough to act a fool, let's go.
Get your motherfucking ass down.
Charlie: All right! All right!
Operator 2: Fortico 1377. Alarm raised.
Tom: Alarm registered.
Sam: Face to the fucking ground!
Jan: Tires, now. Jackson: Move!
Jan: Do what we say and you fucking live.
Operator 2: Bravo, two black-and-whites en route.
- Two minutes away. - Tom: Two units dispatched.
(Whispers) Don't do it.
Tom: (Over radio) Eta, two minutes.
Jan: Two minutes!
- (Mick grunting) - (Gun fires)
- Mick: Come on, Charlie! - (Grunts)
Charlie: No! No...
Fuck!
Tom: He shot two fucking guards, Elvis.
He shot two fucking guards!
Jackson: Number one, are we good?
(Shouts) Are we good, number one?
We're good.
Tom: Number one just shot a fuckin' kid!
He shot a fuckin' kid!
H: Dougie!
Tom: Incoming! Incoming on the right!
Jackson: Five, incoming! Sam: I'm on it!
- Jackson: Take the legs! - (Gunshots)
Sam: What the fuck did you just do?
Jackson: I said the fucking legs.
Three, take his gun.
Tom: (Over radio) Okay, we got one minute.
Let's go!
- Move. - Tom: Exit west!
- We gotta go, Elvis! Come on! - Jackson: What the fuck?
- Let's get out of here. - Brad: Let's move. Move, move!
Carlos: B-team, let's go, let's go!
(Police sirens wailing in distance)
Jan: Gotta tell you, man.
Was surprised to hear from you.
Glad we could all make it.
Jan: Yeah, I'm glad that shit blew over.
Jackson: You put us in a tight spot, jan.
I'm not sure it has all blown over.
You're lucky you still got a seat at this table.
Got it.
I think we all know we're gonna need a pension fund.
I can't say I wasn't pleased to have this meeting.
I was startin' to itch.
But as we are aware,
the bigger the reward, the bigger the risk.
Everything comes at a price.
Jackson: Are you ready for that?
'Cause there is no guarantee of success on this one.
None of this was ever really guaranteed, was it, sarge?
We've been through worse.
Yeah, so lay it on us.
We're dyin' to find out.
We do this right,
we'll never have to work again.
Neither will our kids.
If we get it wrong?
It's game over.
So, what is it?
We're not hitting a cash truck.
We're hitting them all.
How is that possible?
The depot.
Black Friday.
How much?
North of 150 million.
Ooh!
(Inhales sharply)
Jackson: We've got eight weeks of recon and planning.
Base, this is gamma reportin'.
John: Incoming vehicle, gamma 2411 to bay 6.
That's 160 million divided seven ways.
We have every Avenue covered.
Incomin', Mr. Rossi.
Terry: Thank you, Mr. Hill. Sign it in.
Jackson: This is our best plan.
(Clicks tongue) Yeah. All this is for nothing
if our guy doesn't come through.
Why does this room always smell so good?
Maybe one day, my garden can smell like this.
I hope you're not plannin' anything, Dave.
Dave: Well, it's black Friday tomorrow,
so you'll have to wait and see.
If I thought you were serious,
I'd have to report you, you know.
'Course I'm not serious.
Or am I?
Anyway, it's action man you gotta look out for,
not me.
Yeah, colder than a reptile.
Something's not right.
But why do I get the feeling
your money's never been safer, Mr. Rossi?
Jackson: You don't need to worry.
He's greedier than you, Tom. He'll come through.
Okay, let's run through it one more time.
Has anyone seen my clutch?
Your... your what?
My purse, sweetheart.
Uh, there's a green one on the landing.
- Thank you, Lexie. - Oh, yeah. Come on.
What are you doing today, dad?
- Uh, I got work. - At the mall?
Jackson: That's right.
Will you come to my game after?
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
- Amy: Okay, let's go! - Come on, mom, let's go.
- Love you, dad! - Bye. Love you!
- Bye, dad! - Jackson: Love you.
Amy: Love you, honey. Jackson: I love you.
Lexie: Come on!
Jackson: Hey...
(Chuckles) I'm gonna be late for work.
Jackson: I love you.
Lexie: Hurry up, mom!
Okay, bye!
- (Door closes) - Come on, kids,
get in the car!
- (Car doors closes) - Car engine starts
(dialing)
(Car driving away)
Man: (On phone) Go.
Jackson: We're all set on our end.
I'm on my way to pick up jan.
Now, it's all up to you.
(Beeps)
Super: Remember,
take different routes there and back.
Even a sniff of anything untoward and you call it in.
This is black Friday, and the tills will keep ringin'.
So, don't take no chances.
We got close to 180 million comin' in here today.
- Have you got it? - Employees: Got it, boss!
I want everything and everyone back.
Safe and sound.
Bullet: Let's get goin', h.
Jan: What?
You don't like it?
How does someone like you afford a place like this
and a $28,000 bike?
Credit card.
Calm down, it's not in my name.
Return it.
Put the beers down, grab your gear, and let's go.
Let's go!
Bullet: That's the last drop-off.
- (Sighs) - What is it?
You know I like you, right, h?
Well, there's somethin' I need to tell you.
About me.
I've got some friends.
I help 'em out.
They help me out from time to time.
My pals,
I helped 'em get into the cash truck game,
in a manner of speaking.
With me on the inside.
You get me?
Nah, bullet,
I don't.
I tell them which trucks to hit
and they hit 'em.
The two guards being killed was necessary.
The boy was unfortunate.
But we 're a winning team.
Militarily precise.
You with me now?
Yeah.
I'm with you 100%.
Confinue.
For starters, there are no bullets in your gun.
Secondly, I have to tell you,
they will kill you if you don't comply.
So, do as I say, and you won't get hurt.
And why do you need me?
We need somethin' super-sized.
So we can walk away for good.
We want the jackpot.
The depot.
You want me to get you in.
Then you can look the other way.
When, bullet?
Today.
There's no turning back.
And what's in it for me?
Your life.
Do we have a deal?
Yeah.
We have a deal.
Bullet: (On radio) We're on. Eta, two minutes.
Covers.
John: Gamma, this is base, you copy? Over.
Base, this is gamma, we copy. Over.
Gamma, I've lost camera signal in your truck.
What's happenin' there? Over.
Bullet: It's nothing to worry about, base.
I'm fixin' it as we speak.
John: Copy that, gamma. Keep me updated.
This ain't the day for this shit,
you understand me? Over.
Loud and clear.
I'll be in touch as soon as. Over.
We're set.
(Over radio) Cameras are disarmed.
We have four minutes to load.
Jackson: We meet here at point a.
Warn our hero not to get clever.
We'll need him to get inside.
After that, if he twitches, kill him.
Just let 'em do their jobs, okay?
Jackson: (Over radio) Let me talk to him.
- (Beeps) - Hey, handsome.
Today is not the day to be a hero.
There will be no other warnings.
Am I clear?
Show me your hands.
(Knock on door)
Bullet: Play the game, h.
(Zip tie fastens)
Jackson: (In distorted voice) If you're a good boy today,
you 'ii see tomorrow.
(Engine starts)
Then, we divide.
You, Brad, Carlos, and jan are in the truck.
Me and Sam follow in the escalade.
Be cool, h.
2411 returning.
Gamma, this is base, go. Over.
All good?
Yeah, except for traffic.
Dave: Dana, come give me a hand.
- Dana: Yeah, no problem. - Right.
Let's relieve you of your burden.
(Indistinct radio chatter)
Base, this is gamma reporting.
All clear, gamma.
You ready?
Ready.
John: (Over speakers) Gamma 2411 to bay 5.
That's the last one for today.
Tom: Once we get past the gates,
it's only a question of time before we're compromised.
There's too many guards that we can't control,
so we keep it quiet as long as possible.
Jackson: The men must be stealthy.
The longer their stealth, the longer we live without drama.
Hey, bullet. All good?
All good here, supe.
Tom: (In distorted voice) Move. Move. Now, move! Go!
Officer: Whoa... whoa. Jan: Uh-uh-uh.
Don't you fuckin' make a sound.
Down on the ground.
Tom: Move.
Man: Okay, I'm down.
Jackson: Tiptoe, tiptoe, tiptoe,
we secure the safe first.
That's Carlos and jan's job.
Terry: Okay, Dave, that's all good and accounted for.
Carlos: Hands in the air!
Hands in the motherfuckin' air!
Toss your weapons on the ground.
Slowly. Slowly.
Do what he says. Do what he says.
Carlos: Take that weapon out. Slide it over.
Get over there! Get on the fuckin' ground!
The fuck is wrong with you?
Grab your gun, put it on the ground,
and kick it to me, motherfucker!
- Terry: David, please. - You wanna be a hero today?
I'll put you on the front page
of every fuckin' newspaper in america. Try me.
Get on the ground.
All the way!
Get your fuckin' ass on the ground!
Tie his ass up.
- (Zip tie fastens) - Jan: Behave yourself.
- Hey. - Stuart: What's up?
Yo, I need you to sign this birthday card for the boss.
Bring it up here and have a look at this.
This will make you laugh.
Jackson: You, jan, and Brad will take the control room.
- Bullet is hostage and shield. - Shh.
If that doesn't work, we blow our way in.
Brad: (Softly) Keep it fucking quiet.
(Knock on glass)
Jan: Open the gate. Man: Whoa.
(Alarm wailing)
Armourer: Bob?
What the fuck is goin' on?
Jackson: The keypad will present a challenge.
The men that operate the armory are hard-boiled.
They will not be scared of pulling the trigger.
At some point, they'll resist.
Jan: Open the gate,
or I'll blow his fuckin' head off.
You have three seconds.
One!
Two! Three!
Okay! Putting the gun down!
Jan: Open the gate.
Armourer: The keypad is out there.
Jan: You use the keypad.
Armourer: It's on security lockdown!
You use the fuckin' keypad!
Brad: The rabbits have run, number one.
Jan: Two, breach the gate.
At some point, we're gonna come under heavy fire.
They got long guns, they're gonna use 'em.
Here you go. Here, take this, chief.
So, we'll need ballistic plates.
Jan: This is your last chance.
I'll blow his head off.
Bob, open the gate, or they're gonna fuckin' kill me!
Bullet, get down!
Holy shit!
Brad: Set!
(Grunts)
Carlos: Nobody fuckin' move!
Number three, what's goin' on?
Brad: Don't do it!
(Yells)
John: Jesus fuckin' Christ!
Armourer: Now!
Tom: Move now! Move!
(Men groaning)
(Grunts)
(Groans)
(Screams)
- (Gunfire stops) - (Alarm continues wailing)
- (Brad groans weakly) - Tom: Where are you hit?
Where are you hit?
Four is down. Elvis, repeat, four is down.
John: Oh, no! No, no, no!
No, Jesus, sweet Mary and Joseph,
I swear to god! Please...
Jan: Mm, look at this little piggy...
John: Please, don't. I got kids, please. Please!
Jan: What do we have here, huh? Motherfucker.
- John: Don't hurt me! Please! - (Zip tie fastens)
- (Indistinct radio chatter) - (Alarm continues wailing)
Enough of that.
(Alarm stops)
(John whimpering)
Elvis, come and play.
Operator: (On radio) A bike from an open garage.
Officers have now located the suspect and the bicycle...
Jackson: One, sweep the rest of the building.
Jan: Copy.
Jackson: Five, are we good?
Tom: Clear, Elvis. Move in.
Officer: (On radio) Traffic stopped on highland and third.
- (Heavy breathing) - Carlos: Welcome to the party.
These three are hog-tied. The guap is in here.
And another three guards in the back.
Operator: Fortico, reported robbery. SWAT alerted.
Jackson: SWAT have been alerted.
(Radio chatter continues indistinctly)
Operator: SWAT has been notified.
All units, please respond.
Jackson: Once the alarm sounds,
black-and-whites will be on scene within minutes,
but they cannot enter the building.
Even if they could, they wouldn't dare.
However, they are not our problem.
We will have eight minutes until SWAT arrives.
(Sirens wailing)
We can punch through the black-and-whites
with an 18-ton cash truck,
but the SWAT truck's a different story.
We cannot get pinned down.
We gotta get out before they seal the exit.
We're eight minutes out. Eight minutes out.
Stuart: We have men down. Send backup right now!
This is an emergency.
They have heavy assault weapons,
and they have body armor.
- Men are down. - Swatman: Hold your positions.
- Stuart: Just get here now! - What's going on?
Get in! Get in!
- We're callin' SWAT! - I'm not waiting for SWAT.
We have a protocol. We wait for SWAT.
No, no, no! We gotta go now!
Wait!
Jackson: Two, wait until we 're loaded,
then join three in the truck.
Carlos: Nose to the fuckin' ground!
Did I stutter?
Jackson: Load the Van, three. I'll get five.
Carlos: Fuck is goin' on out there?
Sam: There's some fuckin' guard out here.
Someone shoot this fucker!
- (Gun fires) - (Groaning)
(Both grunting)
Fuck! Please! Please!
Shots have been fired! Shots have been fired!
(Sirens blaring)
Seven minutes out.
Fuck!
Jackson: Clear!
(Panting)
(Groans weakly)
(Panting)
No, fuck this! I'm goin' out!
(Sighs)
Listen, the alarm's gone. We should just wait for help.
What do you want us to do?
You can do whatever you fuckin' like.
David, no, listen to me, they got body armor.
That gun will do nothing!
And this is not your money.
Now, let's go.
Let's fucking go! Go! Go!
(Indistinct radio chatter)
Swatman: We're six minutes out!
Jackson: One, four is down.
I repeat, four is down. Do you have eyes on three?
(Panting)
Three, respond.
(Fires gun)
Jackson: Who's firing?
Operator: Copy that, Adam. All units are advised...
Jackson: Three is down.
We've got a rat on the loose.
Operator: Intel suggests multiple armed suspects.
Jackson: Elvis is leaving the building.
-(Presses button) (Beeps)
Terry: David, just put the gun down and hide.
The SWAT team, they're on the way. They're on the way.
Well, if someone comes down the hallway,
I'm gonna fuckin' shoot 'em, Terry!
There's no need to... There is no need.
Tom: I'm making my way to you now, Elvis.
- Tom: Fuck! - (Gasping)
Come on out and you won't get hurt.
Come on! Come here! I'm not gonna hurt you!
(Grunts)
(Tom yelling)
- (Grunting) - Jackson: Come on! Fuck! Move!
Stuart: Send SWAT. Send choppers.
Bring someone in right the fuck now!
- Here. Take this. - (Gasps)
(Sirens continue wailing)
-(Both grunting) (Gunshots)
Listen, man down.
(Breathing raggedly)
(Gasps deeply)
Jackson: Stay down!
(Siren blaring)
- Man: Four minutes out. - We're four minutes out.
(Both continue grunting)
(Grunts, pants)
(Both straining)
(Whimpering)
(Gun clicking)
(Grunts)
Tom: No!
(Gasping)
(Muffled gunfire)
- (Dave grunts) - David, you all right?
(Man speaks indistinctly on radio)
(Terry panting)
(Groans softly)
Jackson: We 're sitting ducks here.
(Cocks gun)
Stuart. Give me a gun.
It's fucking jammed!
Give me a gun!
Thank you.
- Dana: Bullet, what the... - (Thuds)
Bullet: Clear! Jackson: We gotta move!
Jan: Come on. Jackson: Get up. Move.
(Brad groaning)
Jackson: We got two minutes until SWAT is here.
Jan: Elvis, in the truck!
Jackson: Clear!
Stay with me. Stay with me.
Jan: Get in the truck.
Jackson: Step on it. Come on, come on, come on.
(All grunting)
(Groans)
- (Yells) - Dave: Fuck!
(Yells, groans)
Jan: Four is down!
(Groans)
(Grunting)
Hey, boy sweat!
It's bullet!
Dave: Bullet?
Come give me a hand.
Bullet, what the...
(Muffled police sirens wailing)
Operator: On fence perimeter of fortico.
- You good? - We're good. Let's go.
Tom: Once the truck is loaded and we're all in,
we punch through the black-and-whites.
Exit right.
They and the choppers will be in pursuit,
but there's nothing they can do to stop us.
Officer 1: Oh, shit! They're not stopping!
- Fuck! Get eyes in the sky! - Officer 2: Heading west!
Officer 1: Let's go!
(Sirens wailing)
Operator: (Over radio) That's a 136
south of Mateo street along the highway.
Fuck!
- (Radio chatter continues) - {Groans)
Tom: From here, it's two klicks to meet at rendez point
to enter building d.
The gates here will stop any immediate intrusion.
Operator: Heading south on 405. We have visual.
We have four birds in the sky.
Air units in the vicinity.
Operator 2: Nine-Henry-zero, affirmative.
That doesn't change a thing.
Just stick to the plan.
Get ready.
(Tires squeal)
Jackson: We will have five minutes until SWAT breaches.
They will think we're trapped. They will shoot to kill,
but we won't be there.
And there's no way that they can know
about this access tunnel underneath the basement?
Jackson: No, this doesn't come up on any blueprints.
They stopped printing this back in '57.
Officer 1: We have 'em surrounded.
SWAT has arrived on scene.
Swatman: A-team, let's go! Into position.
(Grunts)
- How you doin', sarge? - (Grunts softly)
Gonna make it.
Get back there and finish the job.
Officer 2: We are stationary and setting up a blockade.
Awaiting further orders.
That's the last of it. Let's move.
Operator: All units, you are cleared to fire.
Officer 1: Roger, dispatch.
Officer 3: Eighteen seconds.
Okay, I'll get the boss.
- (Groaning) - Operator: All units
are advised to watch out for assault.
Targets have intent to kill and are heavily armed.
- Jan: Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. - (Grunting weakly)
Not gonna need that, are we now, sarge?
(Jackson panting)
(Gru nts weakly)
(Strained grunting)
(Jan grunts)
(Jackson choking)
(Knife swishes)
(Jackson continues choking)
(Jan grunts)
(Jackson exhales)
(Jan exhales deeply)
Jackson: We all understand the risks.
Some of us won't make it.
If there is a last man standing,
it's his job to take care of the families.
Tom: I wish I was confident that will happen,
but my only concern is jan.
Strange things happen to men
when they smell that much cash.
He's a soldier.
In the end, he'll follow orders.
(Presses button)
Where's the sarge?
He's not comin'.
What do you mean, "he's not coming"?
I mean he's fuckin' dead, bullet!
Tom: From here, we load the can-am quads,
ride three more klicks to the silver prius,
load the cash under cover.
And whoever's left takes the construction pickup.
- Uh-uh-uh-uh. - (Gasps)
Too fuckin' slow.
(Grunting)
Swatman 1: All right, team. Move in. Weapon ready.
Swatman 2: Copy! Swatman 1: Eyes on the truck.
Swatman 1: Suspect still in vehicle. Moving in.
Swatman 3: Move! Swatman 1: Go!
What the fuck?
Alpha command, come in.
We got one dead suspect. The others are fuckin' gone!
We need more bodies down here.
- Sh it. - There's tunnels everywhere.
Captain.
There's a network of underground tunnels.
It's like a fucking rabbit Warren down there.
Man: We need more air cover on east terminal island.
Operator: Ground support, set up a blockade
on Vincent Thomas bridge.
Man 2: This is hunter 45 with the FBI.
Man 3: We need more air support up here.
Operator: Victor 365, cover over seaside freeway.
Man 4:737, we do not have visual.
We need more eyes in the sky.
Operator: Copy that. Additional air units inbound
covering long beach dock.
Entering industrial unit on terminal way.
Man 5: We need more choppers up here.
There are tunnels coming out everywhere.
(Radio chatter continues indistinctly)
(Police sirens wailing)
(Exhales)
(Faint, muffled music playing)
(Cell phone vibrates)
(Presses key)
(Muffled music continues playing)
(Classical music continues on cell phone)
H: Ain't you gonna answer it?
- (Cell phone beeps) - (Music stops)
(Switch clicks)
(Tosses cell phone)
What do you want?
You here for the money?
I don't want the money.
I want you to read this.
(Sighs)
"Bullets a-1 and a-2
"entered the right lung, causing collapse.
"Bullet b-1 penetrated the liver,
"and b-2 ruptured the spleen.
"Bullets c-1 and c-2 lacerated the heart.
"Cause of death, blood loss and trauma.
"Manner of death, homicide."
H: In summary,
the liver, the lungs,
the spleen, and the heart.
What the fuck do you want?
I want your liver.
- Aah! - (Glass shatters)
(Whimpers)
(Groans)
Fuck...
(Jan grunts)
Your lungs.
(Coughs, gasping)
Your spleen.
(Strained groaning)
(Sighs deeply)
By the way,
his name was Dougie.
(Gunshot)
(Shell clatters)
Agent: Are we done?
We're done.