All language subtitles for DARK BLUE_2002_[eng]

All units,
all frequencies, stand by.

Repeat--all units,
all frequencies, stand by.

All 16-Adam units, stand by.
CHP are in pursuit.

Westbound 210 Freeway
approaching Paxton.

Westbound 210 Freeway
approaching Paxton.

16-Adam-12 reports vehicle is
in excess of 100 miles an hour.

Vehicle is exiting
the freeway at Paxton.

Repeat--vehicle is exiting
the freeway at Paxton.

Suspect is wanted for evading.

All units stand by.

It has been more than a year
since the Rodney King beating.

The twelve jurors in the trial
of the four white officers...

have just returned
with a verdict...

after deliberating
for several days.

The four officers accused of
assaulting Rodney King...

are on the way to the courthouse
here in Simi Valley...

along with their lawyers.

As soon as they get here,
the judge will call the jury...

back into the courtroom...

and the clerk will begin
to read the verdicts.

We expect it will happen
very, very soon.

On the other side
of the courthouse...

a large crowd is developing.

These are people who have
been monitoring this trial.

They are anxious to find out
what the verdict is.

There it is. Come on.

Hang a "U." Turn around.

Jack O'Hearts. That's it.

They ain't getting off.

The jury
don't have fucking eyes?

Rodney King's
getting his ass beaten, man.

They beating the black
out of homeboy's ass.

Bust me.

You ragweed-mouth motherfucker.

Check this shit out.
I wouldn't give a fuck...

if it was motherfucking
Martin Luther King...

got clapped off, nigga,
it don't matter.

Ain't no brothers on
that jury out there, fucker.

It's Simi Valley.

All good, decent white folk
like yourself.

That's why they moved the venue.
The cops are protected.

It's on videotape.
You can't fuck with that.

They going down.

If they go down, I'll buy you
some old-fashioned black pussy.

If them motherfuckers walk,
you gotta spot me a ho.

And no white ho.
I want a Puerto Rican.

Where you gonna find
a Puerto Rican in L.A.?

I'll get you some Mexican shit.

I don't want
no clumsy-ass Mexican.

I want me a badass
Puerto Rican bitch.

I don't give a fuck
if you gotta swim.

Let's shake.
It's about that time.

We do this
short, simple, and clean.

Detective Keough...

if you had
a little time machine...

and you could travel back
to the day of the shooting...

to the afternoon that
you killed Mr. Robertson...

I'd like to hear what
you'd do differently.

I wouldn't do
anything differently, sir.

He drew down on me.
I did what I was trained to do.

If anything, sir,
I should've acted quicker.

The last man Robertson pulled
a gun on isn't with us anymore.

Thank you, Detective.

I think we've kept
Detective Keough long enough.

Chief Barcomb,
I have a few questions.

Fire away, Chief Holland.

I know it's been a long day...

and I know those chairs
aren't well-padded...

so I promise to be quick.

You OK?

Three weeks in SlS...

and you've made your first kill.

Would you say
you've proven yourself?

Respectfully, sir...

I think the shooting board
has to decide that.

Do you think
it could've been avoided?

No, sir, I don't.

It says here
that you and your partner...

had Mr. Robertson
bumper-locked...

for two days
before the shooting.

Why didn't you bust him
for the weapon?

Because we weren't sure
he had the weapon.

The informant who told us
is highly unreliable.

But you tailed him anyway
for 680 man-hours.

He was on parole.
You could've shaken him down...

but you let a two-time felon
stroll around downtown L.A...

with a .357 Magnum
stuck in his jeans.

Why? Why?

We didn't want to get him
on a bullshit weapons charge.

Thank you, Chief Holland.
We have to wrap it up.

Officer Garcia, will you bring
Sergeant Perry in?

Sergeant Perry, we're not quite
through beating up on you.

I have one final question
before we adjourn.

Time machine, sir?

Yes, the time machine.

Chief, I'd get real proactive.

If I had a time machine...

I'd go back a decade
and take out G-Bone--

his street name--
before he killed a man for $10.

The time machine
doesn't go back that far.

It goes back one week...

to the day Detective Keough
chose to use deadly force.

What would you change
about that day only?

Nothing, sir.
It was textbook.

The bullets were
in the bad guys, not us.

We expect department personnel
to use deadly force--

Only as a last resort,
which it was, sir.

Bobby Keough's a good cop
with a lot of potential...

and he dropped
a menace to society.

It was a good call.

Thank you.

Thank you, Sergeant Perry,
Detective Keough.

You gentlemen are dismissed.

We'll issue our findings
at 9 A.M. tomorrow morning.

Proceedings are closed.

Call me.

It is the second
full day of deliberations...

in the Rodney King
beating trial.

No word on when the jury
might reach a decision.

Reporters, photographers and
news media covering this case...

are sitting in the parking lot
of the courthouse...

waiting until we get word
that there is a verdict.

Reporting live from
the Simi Valley courthouse in--

They should've wasted that
worthless motherfucker's ass.

Here. Settle your stomach.

Thanks, Jack.

-How'd my nephew perform?
-He aced it.

Say hello to the department's
new poster boy.

No, I'm telling you,
I'll get suspended.

I'll end up being a fucking
security guard at Taco Bell.

Bobby, you go down,
I go down.

I go down, Jack goes down.

And Jack ain't going down...

so have some faith
in the system.

A man is supposed
to be nervous...

in front of
his first shooting board.

Listen, kid.
Here's my advice...

for what it's worth.

-Live with it!
-Jesus Christ.

-Good hands!
-Held on to it.

I'm never going
to live it down, am l?

Don't go getting
sad and weepy on us.

One mistake means you're human.

Two mistakes means you're fired.

Holy shit.
It's a royal visit.

Look what descended
from the sixth floor.

-Hey, Jimmy.
-Jack.

How are you holding up, son?

I'm good, sir.

You should've seen this kid.
He was outstanding.

Ever thought about doing
a tour with public affairs?

We could use a good-looking
son of a bitch like you.

He's a good young cop, Jimmy,
and he's mine.

Well, I tried.

The board voted.

In policy.

You're off the hook, kid.

-There you go.
-Congratulations.

Have a cigar.

The report will be ready
in the morning.

You guys can get back
into the field.

So, the vote...

The vote was four to one.

What? Who the fuck
pissed backwards--Holland?

Affirmatron.

I'd like to see
his bald-headed black ass...

back in a radio car
in South Central.

We don't need that shit.

He actually said
"out of policy"?

Holland began contacting
outside agencies a month ago.

He's doing civil service testing
with the city of Cleveland.

He's leaving to run their P.D.
Didn't hear it from me.

Didn't hear it from you.

Fuck Holland. Good riddance.

Have to pin his stars
on another brother...

or the community
will go apeshit.

Jesus, Eldon,
you sound like your old man.

-It's true.
-It's not such a bad thing.

Everything I know--his old man.

A toast to Bobby.
Right between the eyes.

Thank you, guys. I mean it.

Thanks for giving me the chance
to prove myself in SlS.

Amen, Bobby.
To Jack's squad.

Eldon, Jimmy has something
to tell you.

You made lieutenant.

You're next
on the transfer list.

Fuck you, too, Jimmy.

No. We're not pulling your dick.

It's about fucking time.

It's about fucking time!
All right!

Where's my badge?

The badge ceremony's
Wednesday at the Academy.

A dozen lieutenants
being promoted.

The biggest
in department history...

if you can make it on time,
Mr. Smart Ass.

I'll try to shove it
into my busy schedule.

Thanks for dropping by.

Thanks for the cigars, Jimmy.

-Good luck, kid.
-Thank you.

We'll hoist a few next week.

That'd be good, Jack, anytime.

Looking forward to it.

That's our next chief,
gentlemen.

That's a scary fucking thought.

I mean--God help us.

I can't stand much more
of that dump.

Did you see that drunk
tonight trying to paw me?

What drunk?

Does it matter, what drunk?

What's the matter
with you tonight, darling?

That's the third time you
started to tell me something.

We shouldn't have any secrets
from each other, Sue.

You're a fucking alcoholic.

Thanks.

There's goulash in the crockpot.

I'm not hungry.

Did you just get home?

Eleven prisoners
got early releases.

I had to process them out.

Sal...

I made lieutenant.

You're kidding.

-Finally.
-Yeah.

When will it show up
on your paycheck?

Not till
after the ceremony, honey.

Who the fuck
is calling 900 numbers?

If it's anyone, it's you,
and you don't remember.

The department tapes
for manual labor.

Watch this.
It's the damn kid.

Welcome to
Sorority Slut Hot Line.

Yeah. Sorority Slut Hot Line.

Fucking pay it.
At least he's not a fag.

No, he's not a fag.

Your damn kid has a girlfriend.

Know that, Detective?

No. No shit?

She's very pretty, very sweet.

That's excellent.
The boy's finding his dick.

I work in a jail. Do I have
to listen to that at home?

OK, OK.

I'm sorry.

Aren't you going to ask
how the shooting board went?

Aren't you
going to at least ask me...

how the shooting board went?

I'm sorry, honey.

I have a hard time keeping
track of all your shootings...

and investigations and
interrogations and inquiries.

How did your shooting board go?

-ln policy.
-Like it would be anything else.

What is this?
I recognize this.

I've seen it before somewhere.

Bobby's strutting around
like a little bantam rooster.

You're just jealous of him
because he's cute.

Cute.

You are so lost in space...

you have no idea
what the fuck's going on.

Jealous of Bobby?

Bobby's a fucking coward.

Bobby's not a coward.

He's not?

OK.

Chicken shit.

Let me tell you how that
Robertson case really went down.

My gun's gotta cool, because
I blasted that freak in Pacoima.

It's time Bobby gets tested.

We're out there
in this alley waiting.

Robertson comes running out,
smacks into Bobby.

They eyeball each other
with their shit hanging out.

Robertson says, "Boo,"
Bobby drops his gun...

and Mandingo goes track star.

Bobby dropped his fucking gun.

I don't want to hear this.

No, listen,
because this is good.

So, I reach down,
I pick up Bobby's gun...

and I go, "Hey, yo, G-Dog!"

Or GQ, or whatever
the fuck his name is.

He turns around and--Boom!

I split this guy's eyeballs.
It was a lucky shot.

The point is, I let Bobby
take the triggerman slot...

to save his ass
from big-time embarrassment!

How do you like that for "cute"?

Fuck.

Fuck it.
Goulash? Oh, boy.

And you wonder why I drink.

Jesus Christ.

Is that all you got?

Yeah, for now.
For the moment.

Man, you sure you're a cop?

Just call me Sarge.

But no last name.

We've known each other for
three weeks without last names.

I'm afraid if you tell me,
you're going to...

What? Turn into a pumpkin?

Something like that.

-Want to know my last name?
-No.

No, I don't want to know
your last name...

your division, your partner.

I like it like this.

Nothing too serious...yet.

What just happened
was pretty serious to me.

Ready to go again?

Whatever you say, Sarge.

That's what
I'm talking about--money.

-Orchard! Sidwell!
-Did you hear that?

Open up!
I know you're in there!

Orchard! Sidwell!

Where's the safe?

Dump that shit.

Where's the money?

Give me all the money now...

or I'll put you
back in your cages.

-This it?
-Yeah.

What about our half?

I'm keeping your half...

because you couldn't
control yourselves.

Why did you dumb fucks
kill those people?

What the fuck you think?

We're gonna let people walk out
after they've seen us?

I don't give a fuck.

You live and breathe
and walk the streets...

because of me and me alone.

You know that, don't you?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Your whore is dead.
Dump her, too.

Get off your asses.

I'm putting you
in a fresh-blood case.

There was a quadruple homicide
on Jefferson yesterday.

Two coloreds
fucked up a robbery.

Monkeyshines.
Why call us in?

The shit fairy paid me a visit.
It's rolling downhill.

I hate it when
the shit fairy visits.

One of the vic's
was an LAPD dispatcher.

I got four bodies in the morgue.

This Rodney King shit
has the department...

on the ropes,
so get these gorillas.

Show the world
LAPD looks after its own.

Eldon, can we do this?

Sure, Jack, we can do this.

Help the guys out
in South Bureau.

Peltz and Sapin.
They're overworked.

They'll be happy
if SlS take point on this.

-Bobby.
-Yes, sir.

This could be
a second chance for you.

I hope so, sir.

What's the deal
with this new girl, Bobby?

What are you talking about?

I am a detective.
Give me some credit.

-What's her name?
-Beth.

-What's she do?
-I don't know.

She works in the building.

Bullshit. She's a cop.

I bet she's
the only blue suiter...

who didn't drop her drawers
when you flashed your shield...

and now you're intrigued.

I'm more than intrigued.
Remember the stenographer?

Bobby, don't do that.
You fucking idiot.

You'll regret that
when you're my age.

I'm sure I will.

The latest now on
the Rodney King beating trial...

Hey, Lefty. Let's see.

I'll have a...

-Couple of coffees, regular.
-Two black coffees.

-Can we turn this shit down?
-Thanks, man.

Guys, getting your swerve on?

Eldon, what's shaking?

No, that's fine.

So, how's Sally?

Sal? She's my angel.

What brings you south of King?

Please tell me
Jack gave you our case.

Van Meter's all over this one.

He wants us
to help you guys out.

Eldon, it's dog shit.

It's crazy-man stuff.

These dumbasses hotfooted it
without tapping the till.

Hypes or cranksters.
They gotta be ex-cons.

-Any wits?
-The fifth victim.

Did you interview him?

No. He's in surgery
at Drew King.

Metro's on him 24 hours.

That's all we know.
You're welcome to it.

All right, partner.

Gentlemen,
thanks for the help.

-Thanks a lot, guys.
-You bet.

Keep ducking.

-Thanks.
-You're welcome.

They called again about
the shooting board report.

Send it back
without my endorsement.

Attach this cover letter.

Do you know what you're doing?

Declaring war.

That's crazy. You can't upstage
a hard-ass like Van Meter.

He has a weak spot--Eldon Perry.

Weak don't come to mind
when I think of that redneck.

Perry and
his little partner...

Iied through their teeth
for eight hours straight.

Perry killed Robertson,
not his partner...

and I'm going to prove it.

I'm going to get their badges.
Will you help me?

Whatever you want.

I need copies of every piece of
paper with Perry's name on it.

Every ratings report,
every division log...

payroll, medical,
commendations, everything.

His partner, too.

Arthur, this is
some dangerous shit.

Sailboats--
I don't understand them.

I prefer a big boat
with a big motor...

on a big lake
behind a big dam.

How about you, Arthur?
You a motor or sail guy?

I don't like boats,
and I don't like you.

Has this department
been so bad to you...

you feel driven
to humiliate it?

Don't hide behind LAPD blue.

It's not your color.

No one buys
your sudden transformation...

into this beacon of higher
consciousness and moral right.

The last thing your ham-fisted
political ploy...

will get you is four stars.

You should rethink this--
very seriously.

Very seriously.

I know how you fight.

I'm ready for you.

We can handle this
like gentlemen...

or we can get into
some nigger shit.

So you do whatever it is
you feel you have to do.

I plan to, nigger.

They didn't get a dime?

No. They're crazy.

They shoot and run.

They're like dogs.
They have no heart.

No, sir, they don't.

You have any problems
with anybody in particular...

in the neighborhood--
any troublemakers?

No video, huh?

Camera not work.

What's upstairs there,
apartment?

I live with my daughter.

My wife...

We married 22 years.

Mr. Kim, we will get the guys
that did this.

Give me a call
if there's anything you need.

-We're here to help.
-Thank you.

Please. Excuse me.

It's all right, man.

What are you doing?

I'm just getting a feel
for the scene.

How'd it go down, Sherlock?

I don't get it.

One suspect kills Mrs. Kim
and hops the counter.

Shooter two pops each vic
as they walk in.

This is what I don't get.

He moves
the bodies over here...

hiding them from the street.

That must've taken some time.

Keep going.

All right.

Outside they run into Mr. Lewis.

One of them
shoots him in the neck.

They get into the car
and they're gone.

I'm sorry.
That does not make any sense.

It never does, Bobby.

What do we do now?

Why don't you ask Mr. Kim
for a broom...

and bag everything
in this gutter for the lab?

Let's get that gutter, too.

Heads up.

Let's jack these motherfuckers
and rattle some cages.

-What's up, Maniac?
-Ain't nothing happening.

You know I be shaking it down.

-Yeah.
-What it look like, man?

I'm trying to get my paper,
that's what it is.

Up against the wall, boys.
You know the drill.

Let's go.
Palms on the bricks.

Man, we ain't do nothing.

You, in the gorilla suit,
turn around.

Turn the fuck around, man.

Man, I ain't do nothing.

Think this bullet gives a shit
how tough you are?

-You're under arrest.
-For what?

Give me your elbow!
Don't do that!

Hook him up. Let's go.

Calm the fuck down, man.

-Fuck you, man.
-Calm the fuck down!

What the fuck I did?

Why did you shoot my car?

I ain't shoot
your fucking--Oh, man!

Get in there.
Let's go, come on.

Get down. Get in there.

Man, that shit sting!

I know, man, he's crazy.

Just cooperate with us.
What's your name?

Maniac, man.
They call me Maniac.

Who the fuck are you, Metro?

Yeah, we're Metro.
I'm Detective Smith.

This is my homeboy,
Detective Jones.

Somebody dropped
a dime on you, big guy.

You robbed a liquor store
and dumped four good citizens.

Now your ass is getting gassed.

Why you running
that bullshit at me?

How about this?

You're fucking killing me
with that shit.

I'll find an alley
and empty this can up his nose.

He's fucking crazy, all right?

-Man, fuck him!
-He'll do it again.

-Tell us what you know.
-You talking about Mr. Kim?

He cool-ass people.

He be throwing us out
with 40s and shit.

We keep our eye out for him.

Somebody came in blasting
the other day...

on a civilian, man.
That shit ain't cool.

Speak fucking English!

He's a good dude, bro,
so we gonna handle this.

Shut the fuck up.
I want to know who did this.

If you help me
bring these guys down...

I'll bust a doper
and give you his shit.

Two motherfuckers
that ain't from around here.

Somebody gonna get drunk
and brag about it.

He went up against Mr. Kim
and did his wife.

Why is somebody gonna do that?

Because he a player.
He got game.

Game? What's he play, golf?
Speak fucking English!

Word on the street,
he got strip club...

Iadies and stuff like that.

He selling
that flat-ass booty.

You're telling me
fucking bedtime stories.

Check it out, cop.

Hold still now.

This hurts a lot less
without a broken nose.

I told you!
Kim's a straight-up gangster!

He a pimp like that.

I hope you're not
fucking with me, Maniac.

Ed, it's Detective Smith.

Yeah. Do a make for me?

Hyan Henry Kim.
D.O.B. 10-15-41.

Yeah. Thanks, Ed.

Kim's in the gang book.

Suspicion of loan sharking
and pandering.

He's got a club on Olympic,
just like you said.

Unhook him.

Where you going?

I gave you
what you wanted, right?

What do you want?

I want a goddamn cheeseburger.

Tommy's or Fatburger?

Fatburger,
double king with cheese.

Sounds good.
Let's go. Get in.

He's tripping, huh?

Shit, I'm getting
in the front seat this time.

So, you little sneak...

you're smitten with
this broad with no last name...

and you're
dumping stenographers.

But I don't know
anything about her?

Sometimes you're clueless.

You'll make
a great Pogue someday.

How about a fifth of scotch
over here?

I admit it, Bobby.

I get played now and then
because I'm trusting.

I like giving people
the benefit of the doubt.

When my trust is abused...

it drives me
out of my fucking mind.

Not as much as
she's driving me out of my mind.

She's black, Eldon.

That's why
I don't talk about her.

You be dating a sister.

I didn't know you were
an ebony and ivory man.

I don't want to hear
a bunch of black jokes.

Amigo,
you think I care about...

the size, shape, color,
or political party...

of some sweet thing
you're rolling around with?

While you're
thinking about pussy...

I'm talking about Henry Kim...

and his "struggling immigrant
from South Central" tap dance.

He's a gangster.

Think it was a hit on his wife?

It wasn't a hit.

It would've been in and out,
a couple of vics.

These guys lingered.

Back to robbery.

I bet this place moves five
or six Gs of pussy weekdays...

and double that on weekends.

That's a lot of cash, Bobby.

Let's go fishing.

What do you want?

Half an hour ago,
I wanted this drink...

now I want to fuck that girl.

Sorry, she can't do that.

Find me one that can, slick.

You got eight girls here.
You're not pimping them?

I'm not talking to you.

You're LAPD.
You beat Rodney King.

I did not kick
Rodney King's ass...

but I'll have some serious fun
kicking your ass!

Did you take Kim's money,
you son of a bitch?

Talk to me!

Did you put on a ski mask
and take his damn money?

Get the fuck back inside!
Now!

Did you kill his fucking wife?

No, no, no!
I didn't do that!

Get the fuck out of here now!

Now! Move! Now!

His family is like my family.
I didn't steal!

I heard they got 200 grand.

No, look, they took a safe.

But it only has 150.

Anybody show up for work
late this morning?

Anybody in your little
sewing circle blow town?

Give me a fucking name!

Du Ku. He's not home.
I don't know where he is.

This guy doesn't own
one fucking chair?

There's nothing in there.

Holy...fuck.

Oh, man.

I guess that's what they mean
by chilling out.

-Shit.
-They tortured this guy.

-He sang, man.
-He hit a high fucking "C."

All right.

Our bad guys have turned on to
Henry Kim's business somehow.

Snatched the bag man...

tortured him to find out
where the money was hidden.

They go in,
kill four people...

come out, wing a fifth...

torch the getaway car...

and take off in
a second set of wheels.

This thing's
coming together, Bobby.

Let's call this in
and take another shot at Kim.

Yeah, good.

Morning, Matt.

Morning, Sergeant.

Here.

Thank you.

The verdict might be today.

I bet they get off.

That's my opinion.
What about you?

Jesus, you talk about
everything else...

from dog racing
to foreign policy.

How come you never talk
about the King thing?

Bobby,
I avoid the subject...

because it pains me
to see real criminals free...

while four of my brothers
eat political shit...

because the Pogues
outlawed the choke hold.

When they got
rid of the choke hold...

it left us with
a stun gun and a baton.

The choke hold saved lives...

but nobody ever got elected
saying that.

They don't give those guys
enough cars, radios...

equipment or live bodies
to man the watches.

Then they take away
the tactics that work...

and indict them for using
approved tactics that don't?

Bobby, this is simple.

Either four good cops
are going down...

because they followed
the department manual...

or they get off and
we're back in the Summer of '65.

I don't know about that.
You really think so?

If they get off,
this city burns.

Perry.

I got it. Let's go.

The wit's conscious.

Freeway bags for these?

How's he doing?

In the last couple of hours,
he's moved around a bit.

Good.

Mr. Lewis, how you doing?

I'm Detective Keough.
This is Detective Perry.

Sir, we'd like to ask you
a couple questions.

He's whacked out
on painkillers.

He can't speak.
His larynx has been removed.

The bullet shattered it.

Sir, can you write?

Here.

Mr. Lewis, could you identify
the race of the attackers?

One was white,
and one was black.

Hey, Jack.

Hi, guys.

Brief me on Jack O'Hearts.

I've been getting calls all day.

"My two best guys are on it,
giving 200%."

Tell me you got the suspects
in your trunk.

My trunk has nothing
but a spare tire and underwear.

You gotta have some breaks.

I interviewed the "K"
who owns the crime scene...

who I sniffed out as a lesser
light of the underworld...

and it turns out
he's got a strip club.

He's pandering,
a cash-and-carry businessman...

and he had a safe with
a buck-fifty in it.

That's real money.
You guys found a body.

-Kim's bag man.
-Your shooters are Korean.

That's what we thought
till we interviewed the wit.

He can't lD them.
They had ski masks.

He can lD race.
It was a salt-and-pepper team.

A safecracking spook
and a blue-eyed peckerwood.

Who does that sound like?

How about
Orchard and Sidwell?

Always Orchard
and Sidwell with you.

What is that?

You're not dumping
my two best informants.

Jack, your pets,
your science projects--

whatever the fuck they are--
the evil shits did this.

It's time we put
these slick twists down.

Your job is not to think.

It is to follow orders,
to execute plans...

and to be a good soldier.

You're a goddamn
great soldier...

because you leave
the planning and fixing to me.

-Are you listening?
-I'm listening, Jack.

Listen to my philosophy.
It's very simple.

I am a performer
of unpleasant tasks...

so that
the majority of people...

are free
to perform pleasant ones.

The last thing I care about
is what you think.

I got it, Jack.

Good.
Open your fucking ears.

Orchard and Sidwell were
in San Diego working for me.

You and Bobby will do
whatever it takes...

to clear Jack O'Hearts.

Find some bad guys
and get a search warrant!

-You listening?
-I'm listening, Jack.

You better be listening!

I don't need you making shit up!

Take the warrant and serve it
with Rico's platoon.

Do what you do.

OK?

-OK?
-OK.

Where are you going?

OK. OK.

It'll be a beautiful thing.

Pull this off, you'll be
sitting on waterskis...

sucking fumes
from my new boat...

a couple of kegs and hookers
in Lake Havasu.

Stick this
in Holland's mailbox...

and get your asses
back on the street.

Forget finding the real guys?
Did I hear that right?

Hey, Perry.

You guys get anywhere with
that Jack O'Hearts case?

We just had a breakthrough.
How are you guys doing?

Just got a drive-by
murder-suicide--

a 12-year-old wasted
an ice cream truck driver.

Another normal day.

Good luck
nailing those bastards.

Keep us posted.

Sit down, Bobby.

We're going to find
a couple of assholes...

and bury them
in the Jack O'Hearts.

We cannot pin
four murders on patsies.

No fucking way.

The real shooters need to be
taken off the streets.

I absolutely agree with you.

They're vermin
and should be exterminated.

But you got a crime
and you got criminals...

and if you're meticulous,
somehow you make a match.

We're in
the getting-shit-done business.

What are you talking about?
You know who did it.

Come on!

How can Jack involve us
in this type of shit?

-What the hell's he thinking?
-How fucking dare you!

Who the fuck are you
to question Jack Van Meter?

You don't question his orders.
You follow them!

I ought to kick your ass, man!

You know jack, Bobby!

You were tested and failed!

That's my daddy's gun.

You see those? Eleven men.

He and Jack were partners...

and the only goddamn reason
this city's here...

is because
they made it possible.

They built it with bullets!

Hunted down
evil fucking parasites...

that would've committed
thousands of crimes...

would've ruined
hundreds of lives.

They protected
the good people, Bobby...

so that they could grow
and not the cancer!

Who the fuck are you
to question anybody?

Eldon, please. Take it easy!

Come on, take it easy.
I'm with you.

-Good.
-We're going to do this.

OK?

How do we get
a search warrant?

Sergeant Perry?

I'm from the paper.
You got a minute?

No.

I heard SlS is attached to
the Jack O'Hearts killings.

That's a little overkill,
don't you think?

Is there some
political motivation here?

I know you've said you've been
misquoted in the past.

That's why
I brought a tape recorder.

You give me a quote,
and I'll run it...

exactly as you say it--
word for word.

The question is this--

Why has an elite force like SlS
been asked to solve...

a routine multiple robbery
homicide in South Central?

Unless there's something
that we don't know about.

Quote--

Get your fucking head
out of my ass...

and stop writing that
cocksucking criminals...

are victims,
instead of the pigs they are...

and let motherfucking cops do
what motherfucking cops do.

End quote. Print that.

Hey, Deena.

Sergeant.

How you doing?
I'm Detective Keough.

Hi. Good to meet you.

What brings SlS to my office?

The quadruple on Jefferson...

and a linked mayhem homicide
in Koreatown.

-Dead dispatcher.
-That yours?

We're helping out South Bureau.
You know Peltz and Sapin?

The Bourbon Brothers?
Good Homicide guys.

We're taking point
because they're overloaded.

We found the gentlemen
that did it.

We need a search warrant.

Better have more than
on that Hollywood Hills double.

I got hell from the judge
on that one.

You could finish the story.

His Honor signed,
and I nailed the bastard.

You got lucky.
Let's see what you got.

It's a little thin,
but these are some bad hombres.

This guy sodomized an
80-year-old woman for two days.

This one raped a little girl
in front of her family...

during a home invasion.
Read the file.

Calling these circumstantial
would be a compliment.

I can't issue on this.
No judge will sign it.

We're not going to trial,
for Christ's sake.

It's a search warrant.
There's probable cause.

Don't bullshit me.
I can't process this.

You can process it...
and you will.

And by tomorrow morning...

those two young bucks
will be dressed out...

and strapped across
the hood of my Chevy.

So says the playbook, Deena,
so do it.

Be a team player.

Jesus Christ,
you got Alzheimer's?

You know the deal.

You want to change it?

Give me your phone.

-Do you have any shame?
-I try not to.

I'll issue the search warrant,
but no judge will sign it.

The judge is my problem.

We'll wait, Deena.

Fine.

I'm lost.
What just happened?

Deena went to USC.

Good sorority, Dean's list,
the whole thing.

She's a sharp gal,
but like a lot of young girls...

away from home
for the first time...

she experimented
and got into team sports.

The whole football team, man.

Fight on for old S.C.!

It was a hell of a videotape.
I never saw it.

She married some CEO from
Century City who doesn't know...

and that's the way
she wants to keep it.

And that's the deal.

There's always a deal.

Judge Russo, I'm sorry.

I really appreciate this, sir.

You're sure about this one?

These guys are a couple
of sick puppies, Your Honor.

It's all here
if you want to read it.

Raise your right hand
and repeat after me.

As the affiant,
do you swear that everything...

contained in
this affidavit is true...

to the best
of your knowledge...

-So help you God?
-I do.

-How's Sally?
-She's great.

Mrs. Russo feeling better?

Much better, thank you.

This is Bobby Keough,
my new partner.

-Judge Russo.
-Hi.

Great.
Thank you very much, sir.

Appreciate it.

Sign out a car and paint
"Enola Gay" on the side...

because we're gonna drop
the bomb on Holland.

Take a look at these.

Who's the female?

Beth Williamson--
LAPD Sergeant.

She's Holland's assistant.

Who took them?

Me.

Some people
call that "doggy-style."

I like "Bow wow wow."

Call this one "Girl on top."

Wait. Who's wearing
the high heels here?

And let's see. Oh, yeah.
Missionary.

Although I am not quite sure
what religion that would be.

What do you want me
to do with these?

Stick them
in Holland's mailbox.

Then you're off till 2100.
Get some sack time.

You look like shit, Bobby.

I'll see you.

What's up
with the blue suit?

Public relations.

So people see
everyone who wears it...

isn't like you, Detective.

Would you like a menu?

Why don't you tell Holland
he's a great pimp?

What the hell
are you talking about?

I think I was falling for you.

Yeah, I really do.

Do you deny
you're sleeping with him?

The secret files. The gossip.

The dirty little stories
whispered...

in the men's rooms
and hallways of Parker Center.

-You're a part of that?
-I know what happened.

He was my station house fling.

I was a patrol supervisor,
and I was attracted to him.

I thought he was a great man.

It was a brief affair.

Then he told me
he wasn't leaving his wife.

That was five years ago.

We walked away like adults.

It's long over, and it is
my business, his business...

and not yours or anyone else's.

Yeah, it is my business.

It is my business
when you're spying on me.

You're the goddamn spy.

You work for Van Meter, not me.

Who approached who first?

I never wanted to know
anything about your work.

I never asked.

Now...
I know more than I want to.

What do you know?

Chill, man.

Honey, we're running late.

I want out
of the marriage, Arthur.

Listen.

Please, just listen.

I'm glad the time
you put into the department...

is paying off for you.

But the time I put into you
isn't paying off for me.

I want to have a life
while I still can.

Don't worry.
I'm still down for you, baby.

I think you'll make
a wonderful Chief...

and I'll do my part
to help you make it.

And when you do...

I don't see myself
staying around.

I'm sorry.

That happened five years ago.

You know it.
We dealt with it.

You said you would forgive me
and try to forget.

It's hard to forget when
you got a mailbox full of those.

I didn't know
about those pictures.

LAPD doesn't miss a trick,
does it?

Is it possible to have a secret
inside that department?

No.

Perry, you know the Xs and Os.

You'll be in the observation
post in the alley.

You guys are lucky the verdicts
didn't come in today...

or we'd be in
the south end on standby.

It took my guys a day
to locate these assholes...

and two more days
to pat them down.

We finally tailed them
into Charcoal Alley.

You know Bobby Keough,
my number two on this one.

-How you doing?
-Yeah, I know Bobby.

Congratulations
on the shooting board.

You ever get tired of SlS,
come down to Metro.

We could always use a good man.

That's not gonna happen,
but thanks.

What do you say
we hit the bricks?

What's going on, man?
This ain't your style.

Political as it gets, Rico.

They want this one
on the front page...

so make as much noise
as you want.

I'd like to introduce
a member of our congregation...

who has spoken to us
on many occasions...

Assistant Los Angeles
Police Chief Arthur Holland.

Praise the Lord!

Ladies, listen up.

Perry and Keough will give you
some background on the players.

These are the two shitbirds
that took out...

one of our dispatchers
and a few other innocents.

No one fucks with our family.

And remember--
SlS doesn't have a jail...

so if you knock
one of these pricks down...

make sure he stays down.

I remember
one fine spring day...

about 25 years ago.

I had just graduated
from the Police Academy.

I felt so proud
with my brand new blues...

coming to church that Sunday.

I felt so proud with
my new badge on my chest.

Bottom line, gentlemen,
watch your asses...

and pay attention
to your fields of fire.

Once we have secured
the location...

we turn it over
to Perry and his people.

Sergeant, take over.

A couple of weeks ago...

some gentlemen
from Cleveland called me.

They wanted me
to move out to Ohio...

to become the Chief
of their police department.

That opportunity
is knocking mighty loud...

and my LAPD badge
doesn't seem to glow anymore...

and I'm not as proud of my blues
as I used to be.

Today, I called those gentlemen
in Cleveland...

and I told them I'm staying put.

Questions?

We'll be pulling out
in 15 minutes.

I stand before you tonight...

to declare
my goal of becoming...

the first African-American
Police Chief of Los Angeles.

What happens if
they take these guys alive?

Getting out alive
isn't part of the drill.

No, I know.

For all I know, you'll hand
these dicks your Roscoe...

and they'll shove it
up your ass.

Shut the fuck up about that.
I'm serious.

Shut the fuck up about it.

-Hate me right now?
-You're damn right!

Good. Stay in that zone.

-What are you doing?
-Calling the suspects.

Why?

Making sure they're up.
You can't shoot a man in bed.

Hey, dumb ass,
take a look out your window.

The cops are crawling
all over your place.

Flash bang!

On the ground now!
Get the fuck down!

-All right!
-Get your fucking hands up!

All right! I'm cool.

Get the fuck down! Now!

Take my piece.
There you go. Here.

There you go. Safety's off.

You drill him,
I'll take the heat.

Who's that?

All right Hey!

Take this worthless
piece of shit down right now!

I never did shit to you.

-Shut up!
-Be cool.

-Shut the fuck up!
-I ain't got no gun.

Go to work, Bobby!
We're running out of time.

Man, go to work!
We're running out of time here!

-I ain't got a gun.
-What?

Yeah, you do, cocksucker!
How about that?

-Come on, Bobby.
-Don't, don't, don't.

We're not going back to Jack
empty-handed.

You want me to do this, Bobby?

Shit.
You want me to do this?

I will do this.

You want me to do this?

Look, don't.

You got to do it, Bobby.
No choice, man.

Take this worthless
piece of shit down right now.

For Christ's sake,
we're running out of time.

When that light goes out,
you do it!

Do it, Bobby!

Bobby, breathe.

Bobby, come on.
Take a deep breath.

Stay down there.
Breathe. Hang on.

You'll be all right.
Give me your gun.

That's it.
Come on, breathe deep.

It's over, man.

So, who shot him?

-You get him, Eldon?
-Yeah.

How many is that now?

Who the fuck cares?
What about the other guy?

He pulled a shotgun on us.
My guys dropped him.

Good.
Let's get the logs rolling.

Hey, Rico...

no statements till
Robbery-Homicide gets here?

Don't worry about it.
I'm all over it.

Bobby, you listen to me.

This asshole had it coming.

All the fuck he ever did
was ruin lives.

You saved somebody
a shitload of misery...

so get it together.

You didn't shoot this guy,
I did.

I was giving the suspect
commands...

and he wouldn't comply.

Which commands?

"Police officer. Freeze.

"Let me see your hands.
On your knees."

OK.

And then I...

I saw the suspect
reach into his waistband...

and I saw a metallic object
in his hands.

I fired
my service weapon once...

striking the suspect
in the chest.

I thought Sergeant Perry
fired his service weapon once.

Yeah, right.

That's right. I'm sorry.

No problemo, amigo.
We got all day.

We'll get it right.

Let's go over
that last part again.

I saw the suspect
reach into his waistband...

and I saw a metallic object
in his hands.

Then my partner fired
his service weapon once...

striking the suspect
in the chest.

Perfect.

We're all done.
Twice through is plenty.

Right.

Bobby was a natural, Jack.

When the shit went down,
he did it right.

Think you could do it again?

-He's a natural.
-He's my blood.

-Done with the OlS guys?
-Yeah.

They were trying to get a job
with our unit.

You boys are heroes.

I like heroes.
A simple idea, really.

You got
your villain and your hero.

Modern thinking
tries to complicate it...

but it always
comes down to that.

Those who victimize
were once victims...

all that stuff
they teach in college.

It's sad.
It's probably even true.

It really doesn't matter.

Everybody's got a sad story.

Who gives a shit?

You guys "delivered"
those pictures?

I thought they'd put Holland's
ass down, but he's still up.

He's on the goddamn news
saying he wants to be Chief.

I got plenty more shit.
I can wait.

Will he press us
on the Robertson shooting?

Could he know
what really happened?

He is pressing.
He might have a witness.

What?
There's no fucking witness.

He might dig up someone
in the D.A.'s office...

happy to file on you two
for murder and conspiracy.

Bullshit, Jack.
Nobody saw shit.

I'm holding it together, Eldon.
That's what I do.

Whatever. Nobody saw shit.

There's no witness.
Nobody saw shit.

You said
that three times already.

Are you feeling OK?

Yeah, I'm fine.

There's that
Orchard and Sidwell thing...

but whatever.

We're not going there.

Get some rest.

You're going to need it.

Promotion party tomorrow.

Can't wait to hear your speech.

No, really.

The press will be there.
Let's give them a show.

Yeah, I'll be there.
On time.

-You guys were good today.
-Yeah.

-You OK?
-Yeah, fine.

Don't worry about Holland.
It's my problem.

Get the fuck out of here.

What the fuck
are we going to do, Bobby?

It's a hell of a job, isn't it?

Why don't you come over
to the house?

Sally will fix up
a big pot of goulash.

No, I'm beat.
I'm going home to sleep.

You'll be OK, Bobby.

Little gangster kids
out there killing people...

you don't see them sweating it.

Will you shut up, Eldon?

I had a facer once.

Just like that.

The guy was begging me
for his life.

I found out later that
he had a wife and a little boy.

Every Christmas, I slipped
some money into her mailbox.

That one really fucked me up.

I can still see his face.

Come on, man.

Come on over.
You'll make her day.

What?

What do you think?

Sal, put the box down.
This is not going to happen.

What is this?

I didn't think
you'd be home till late.

I didn't want to see you
like this.

Read it.

Eldon, don't do this.

You wrote it,
but you can't read it?

Read it.

"Dear Eldon...

"you're probably wondering
what's going on.

"Well, it's finally over.

"l found a place.

"I'm taking our son with me.

"This is a good thing.

"He's frightened of you,
like I used to be.

"l know you can handle
our leaving...

"because you really don't
give a shit about us."

Honey, that is not--

"You care more about
the people you hate.

"l guess you're still trying
to be your father."

What?

"You'll find out anyway,
so I'm telling you now.

"l met a man at the jail.

"But don't start beating up
every deputy you see...

"because he's not a cop...

and he's not an inmate, either."

"He's a lawyer."

-"A defense lawyer."
-Oh, that's good.

A fucking defense lawyer.
That's just...

Sal, come on, man.
This is...

Fuck it, man. Whatever.

Get back in here!

You wanted me to read it...

you're going
to listen to me read it!

"We're going to try and
start a new life together.

"And I say try
because I have no idea...

"what a healthy relationship
looks like."

"l know this seems abrupt...

"unless you're good
at reading signals...

"which you're not."

"l have watched you
descend into Hell...

"and I have been waiting
for you to come back.

"Apparently,
you don't want to."

"l loved you."

"Good-bye."

Sal, put the box down.

The house is yours.

You don't have to leave.
I'll do that.

Hey, guys. Just...

You can unpack
everything in the truck...

and bring it back in.
I'm sorry.

I don't know what to say, Sal.

I don't know what to say.

Say good-bye.

Good-bye.

All right.

Please go away.

I got to speak to you.
I'm not moving until we talk!

-You're a thug, Bobby.
-I know.

What do you want?

I can't eat, I can't sleep,
I can't think.

Tell me what you want.

I killed a man last night!

I blew a hole
through his chest!

Every time I close my eyes,
I see him staring at me.

-You're making no sense.
-The Jack O'Hearts case.

Me and Perry
cleared it last night.

Two suspects are dead.
They're the wrong guys.

No, wait. Stop, Bobby.

Who are you?

A few nights ago,
you're wining and dining me.

Then you make accusations
about my sex life.

Now you come here and confess?

I pulled the trigger, not Perry.

The Robertson killing was
supposed to be my initiation.

I dropped my gun.

Perry shot him, not me.

I think Holland
already knows that.

He does.

He just can't prove it.

I'll give Holland
the Robertson shooting.

I'll give him me, Perry,
Van Meter, everything.

Think about it.

Like a bullet,
you can't call it back.

It was a bad shooting.

I didn't have
to pull the trigger.

I can't live with that.
Call Holland, please.

No. You got to tell him
in person.

Are you willing to say
all this in court...

with Eldon Perry
and your uncle staring at you?

Yes, I'm willing.

You can trust him.

We have to get Orchard
and Sidwell in custody.

I'll put together a task force.

We'll locate them...

and swoop down on them
like the Lord's fury.

I want everyone to see this...

but I need more time.

Old Jack and Perry
can't know yet.

Where are you supposed to be?

At the Academy for
Perry's promotion ceremony.

You should be there.
Can you handle it?

I can handle it.

-I'll be there.
-OK.

Hello. Who be it?

Me be it, fuckhead.

It's Santa Claus.

Yes, sir.

Shut up. You dump that shit?

Yes, sir, we did.

A white police officer's
coming to your house.

He'll be there shortly.
Cancel his ticket.

Smoke a cop?

He works for me.
He's a serious bad-ass.

If you slip, he won't.

Do you know
who I'm talking about?

Yeah, I know...

but that's some heavy shit, man.

Leave him breathing,
I'll make sure you're not.

That is no shit.
You owe me, asshole.

He won't make it.

Don't trip. I'll do his ass
jailhouse style--Chino.

Just put him away clean,
then leave town.

L.A.'s too hot.
I don't care where you go--

Vegas, K.C.--I can set you up
in either place.

We out then. Fuck L.A.

Yeah, fuck L.A.

Eldon, what's wrong?

Nothing.
It's just Sally and me.

Fuck, it's over.

She'll be back.
You want me to call her?

No. She thinks I'm a monster.

I know you're hurting now,
but I have a mission for you.

Fuck.

Holland has a witness
to the Robertson shooting.

I need you to do what you do.

There is no witness.

There is a witness.

1--2--6--5--7 Juliet.

He's a fifty-year-old
Hispanic male.

Look, Jack...

Look, Jack,
this is different, man.

This guy didn't do anything.

He's a fucking witness.

There's got to be another way
of handling this.

He's alone in the house
for the next few hours.

Do you understand?

I need this one, Eldon,
and it'll all be over.

Are you listening?

Are you listening?
12657 Juliet.

I need this one, Eldon.

12657 Juliet.

You're a prince.
See you this afternoon.

The Academy.

You forgot, didn't you?

You made lieutenant,
and you forgot.

No, I didn't forget.

Hey, Ed. It's Eldon.

Run an address for me--
12657 Juliet.

Let me know if law enforcement
has anything in the area.

Stakes, DUl sweeps, lNS...

Federal shit,
organized crime, the works.

And get me the name
on the utilities bill...

real quick, please.
I appreciate it.

Yeah, I'm here.

Darryl Orchard...

and Gary Sidwell.

Yeah. I got it.

Thanks, man.

Fuck me.

You're right, Jack.

It's all over.

Yeah.
This is Detective Keough.

You did. Great job.
Do you have an address?

12657 Juliet.

I got it. Thank you.

That was the lab.

I gave them a bag
of cigarette butts...

from the gutter outside
Jack O'Hearts Liquor.

They got a partial thumbprint
off the cigarette...

and they matched it directly
to Darryl Orchard.

What are you doing?

When Jack finds out,
he'll send Perry to kill him.

I'm not waiting around for that.

I'll pick up
Orchard and Sidwell...

and book them into
protective custody myself.

5-King-15 to 15-Adam.

1-1-4 to all units.

Be advised.
The verdicts have come in.

1-1-4 to all units.
Stand by.

The verdicts are not guilty.
I repeat--not guilty.

5-King-15, Adam, come in.

15-Adam, come back.

-White punk.
-What's up, white boy?

Check it out.

Keep rolling, punk.

-Heads up.
-What's up with that?

Punk, what you think
you're doing over here?

Back up.

Yeah, slow down.

Open the window!

-You better get your ass out!
-All right.

Tear it up!

Where the fuck's he going?

This nigga think he smart.

I can't wait to see
that bitch's face...

when I turn that motherfucker
into a tea bag.

Let's go.

Keep your ass low.

You act like you ain't never
done this before.

What the fuck is you doing?

I just bought these jeans.

Stay low.

He ain't going to smoke my ass.
I'll check over here.

You see him?

There he go. Right there.

All right, Bobby.

You see him? Anything?

You see him?

Nah. Fuck.
I just saw this motherfucker.

You ready?

Let's get these assholes.

What?

They're sending
a whole motherfucking army.

Where you see that?

Homeboy's coming up here
all chill and shit.

Homeboy's here
with a fine-ass sister.

She coming here with a boo-ya,
all chill and shit.

That's a damn shame
that we got to kill her.

Just shoot the motherfuckers
when you see them.

This ain't the liquor store.
These niggas shoot back.

Here's the situation
from South Central.

Look at that.

Terrible. And there's
no police presence down here.

They will not enter the area.

No. There's no--

There's no shutting down
Florence.

We're telling the LAPD
to do that now.

Shut Florence Boulevard down
and Normandie.

I snitched you out, Eldon.

I snitched you out.

Don't you touch him.

Don't you dare touch him.

This should be
you lying here, not Bobby.

Your blood should be
spilling here, not his!

You filled his head
with all this bullshit!

I hope that you burn in Hell,
Eldon Perry.

You evil motherfucker.

I'll call it in.

5-Y-15, shots fired.

My partner's down,
and another officer needs help.

12657 Juliet.

5-Y-15, roger.

All units in 12-Adam-18,
12657 Juliet.

Handle Code 3,
state intentions.

I'm in pursuit
of the suspects...

Darryl Orchard
and Gary Sidwell.

Get him!

Get out of the street!

Get out of the street!

-Shit!
-Come on, now!

Son of a bitch!

Hey, hey, hey!
Wait, wait, wait!

I'm cool!

Who's the bitch ass, nigga?
Fuck y'all!

Goddamn! Fuck!

Fuck you, Sidwell.

Get in.

Cuff yourself. Get them on.

Put them on!

Darryl,
I'm going to kill you...

as soon as I think
you're lying to me, understand?

Take a look in there,
motherfucker.

Come on, man, lie to me.
Lie to me now!

Van Meter tell you
to hit Jack O'Hearts?

Yeah, man, yeah.

You been hitting safes for him?

Damn right.
Made that nigga a gang of money.

I bought that nigga a house.

Shut up and listen to me.

Van Meter
tell you to ambush me?

He tell you to ambush me?

A simple fucking task.
You couldn't get it right.

You dumb asses
wasted my partner.

Your partner?

This whole city's
about to burn the fuck down.

And I want to thank
my wife and children...

for staying with me
through the 16 years in Metro.

My years with
this department...

Major 415s and Code 3 traffic
all over South Bureau.

Captain Lennox
wants permission to deploy.

Tell Lennox to get off your ass.

I can't do anything till
you get the Chief on the phone.

He's at a fund-raising luncheon
in Brentwood...

with specific orders
not to be disturbed.

Frank,
get the Chief on the phone.

Thank you. Thank you.

Apparently Eldon Perry...

our final officer
to be promoted...

was unable to attend
this afternoon.

Whoa! Nobody moves
till I get my bars.

Thanks, Sal.

I thought
he should be here for this.

Congratulations, Dad.

I'm sorry.

Eldon Perry.
Here's a cop when you need one.

This is to certify--

Forget the formalities.
This is what I came for.

Thanks a lot.

Jack Van Meter asked me
to say a few words today...

so I guess I'll say a few words.

Law enforcement has taken
a lot of dings lately...

and I'd like to congratulate...

our four fellow officers
on their acquittal today.

It's a hell of a job we got.

A cop's the last person
a civilian wants to see...

until some shitbag
shoves a gun in his face...

and then we can't get there
fast enough, right?

You know, law enforcement...

it's been
my family's business...

since Los Angeles
was a frontier township.

I actually remember sitting
on my granddaddy's lap...

Iistening to stories
about chasing horse thieves...

and rustlers into
the Santa Monica mountains...

and coming back with a bad guy
tied to his Appaloosa.

And when my dad
got into the business...

there was black and whites,
traffic signals.

But the job hadn't changed.

My dad preyed on the predators
that preyed on this city.

There was never any doubt
what I was going to be.

I was a Police Explorer
by the age of nine.

I was a teenager when
the Watts Riots came around.

Anyway, I can remember...

going out with my dad
on the second night.

There was this Woolworth's
that was burning.

And I remember these looters
running in and out.

Every time they'd run out...

my dad would take
a potshot at them...

with this deer rifle
he'd brought from home.

Anyway, he gave it to me
and this looter ran out.

I winged him in the arm
and he ran back inside.

That's when
the roof collapsed...

and the whole
goddamned building caved in.

I guess they all burned up.
Nobody got out.

Tell Jimmy to get him down.
He's drunk.

That was my dad.

Jack says he's drunk again
and wants him off the stage.

I will take care of it.
Leave it alone.

That's Eldon Perry the third.....

right there
next to his mom.

He'll never be a cop.
He hates cops.

I love him.

And I thank God
that I was just too busy...

to pass on to him
what my granddaddy...

passed on to my daddy
and he passed on to me.

I was raised up
to be a gunfighter.

I made a career of going after
the most dangerous...

parasitic sons of bitches
to walk this planet...

and I was happier
than the devil in Hell.

I'd fabricate evidence
to bring some asshole in...

or I'd lie on reports
and to investigators...

and I'd sure as hell
stretch the truth in court.

And if anybody
would mess with us...

we just muscled them,
right, Jack?

Or blackmail them.

What the hell?
Everybody's got a secret.

It's a tough job,
but I was a good soldier.

Yeah.
Just taking orders...

from my commanding officer
Jack Van Meter.

Whenever Jack said,
"Eldon, do what you do"...

I carved "Case cleared"
on a casket with my knife...

because I figured,
"What the hell? Jack's God."

Sometimes, Jack,
you work like God.

You work in
some mysterious ways, man.

Thanks a lot, Eldon.
Thank you.

It was Van Meter
that ordered me...

to pin the Jack O'Hearts
homicides...

on a couple of ex-cons...

that didn't have anything
to do with it.

He ordered me to set them up
for the kill, too.

So, acting on
some information from me...

SWAT took one down
during a raid.

But I made my partner kill
the other one in cold blood.

You got to be heartless
in my line of work.

And my partner Bobby Keough...

He had a good one...

and it cost him.

The real
Jack O'Hearts killers...

turned out to be a couple
of snitches of Van Meter's.

Bobby tried to arrest them,
but he didn't make it.

They cut him in half.

He's lying dead
on a concrete slab...

somewhere in
South Central right now...

because he walked into an ambush
Van Meter set up for me.

Isn't that right, Jack?

Eldon...
it's going to be OK.

Those of us here
who love you...

want you to get down
from there...

before you embarrass yourself
any further.

To those members of the press
who are gathered here...

I would ask you to consider
only that this fine man...

a great LAPD cop...

has demons that sometimes
get the better of him.

Discretion, please.

I'm slow, Jack,
but I get there.

I couldn't figure out
why you'd throw me over...

for a couple
of crackheads...

until Orchard told me
the safes were for you.

It was simple--
just about money.

So I brought Orchard
in as a witness.

He's back there in the custody
of Robbery-Homicide.

He had quite a lot to say...

but not as much as me.

That man is a well-known
crack addict...

a heroin user,
a bottom-feeding petty thug...

with a police record
14 feet long.

Eldon, you are an alcoholic!

We have all tried to help you...

but there comes a time when
support becomes enablement...

and we are well past that point.

Get the hell down from there.

While you're grandstanding,
the city is starting to burn.

If this city's
starting to burn, Jack...

it's because of guys
like you and me...

and I may be
a goddamn alcoholic...

but that doesn't mean
I can't tell the truth.

I got all the deep, deep dirt
right here.

Somebody put the cuffs on me
and let me start talking.

We'll let the shit fall
wherever it wants to.

Who's got the cuffs?

Come on.
Who's got my back here?

Somebody, come on.
Who's got the cuffs?

For Christ's sake,
somebody back me up here!

Can we wrap this up?

Sergeant Jakes, arrest him.

Are you sure about this?

Just do your job, Sergeant.

If you're thinking
what I think you're thinking...

think again.

Perry is delusional
in the extreme.

You're going down.

Then the whole department
goes down with me...

starting at the very top.

I got files on everybody.

I got photographs,
cancelled checks.

No dirty little secret
gets by me.

I take the fall,
everybody takes the fall.

If that's what it takes.

It would be suicidal for you
to arrest me here.

Cameras running,
a riot in the streets...

no investigation, no inquiry.

Is that the way
a Chief behaves?

You should've taken the deal
we offered you.

You're the one
who has to make a deal.

I'm the one
you have to deal with now.

I'm not going to arrest you,
because I don't have to.

Everything's been set in motion.

You're finished, Jack.

You don't know
what you've started.

I didn't start anything.
You did.

I'm not going down.

Yeah, you are, Jack,
because I'm taking you down.

Are you listening to me?

Are you listening?

Good...because they are.

They'll book him
within the hour.

He needs a lawyer.
A good one.

Report to your
"A" and "B" Watch Commanders.

We're officially
on tactical alert.

They finally nailed
Jack Van Meter.

We got a story now.

I'll run it exactly
as you said it--word for word.

There's a riot alert
all over the city.

Sergeant Jakes...

uncuff him.

Look at that.

The whole damn city's
going to burn.

It'll get ugly
before it gets better.

How ugly do you think
it'll get for me?

Ugly.

Hey, Chief.

What's the worst prison we got,
San Quentin?

I'd rather go to Lompoc, man.

Or even Tehachapi.

I'll see what I can do.