All language subtitles for 06.12 I Never Wanted To Go To France, Anyway

Welcome to the carnival.

You must be
my new roustabouts.

This carnival
isn't safe anymore.

Gus the Geek.

Subhuman.

I haven't written a paycheck
in three weeks.

Take it easy.

Hey.

The carnival is over.

Congratulations, kid. That
was quite extraordinary.

A walk in the park. Thank
your buddy up there, okay?

Of course. Better take a rest, Robin.
You're on again at 3:00.

Right. See ya, Inky.

Mr. Higgins. Mikey.
Robin.

Thanks a lot, Higgo. You made
this gig go with a real bang.

Here, I brought you
a little something.

Please, it was the least
I could do, Walter.

Walter?

I haven't heard that
since...

North Africa, 1942.

That's right.
Open it up later.

Well, Mr. Janes.
What do ya think?

I think my company is lucky to
have your carnival, Mr. Gilbert.

It hope it will be a profitable
situation for both of us.

Don't you worry
about the profits.

We'll bring in the audience,
I guarantee it.

Why, we broke all
house records on Guam.

You should've... Hey, great flying.
You didn't miss.

Quite. Well done, T.C.

A real good
piece of work.

Thank you.

But somehow, I must admit,
I felt more comfortable

flying and being shot at
at the same time.

Magic to Worthy,
inside to Kareem, back to Scott,

drives, dishes off to Kareem.
Slam dunk!

Length of the court
to Parrish,

to Bird, to McHale, to Johnson, back to Ainge.
Twenty-footer, no good!

Rambis rebound!
He is butchered.

Magnum.

Look at Rambis,
he is hot under the collar.

He's pulling his glasses back,
adjusting those.

Don't... Don't ever
do that again, Higgins.

I'm sorry, Magnum.

What is it?

You so excited about going
on all those neat rides,

you forgot to knock?

You got cotton candy
stuck on your cheek?

What is it?

T.C?

T.C.'s fine. The stunt
went off without a hitch.

The girl was murdered
five minutes later.

I am asking
for your assistance.

What about the police?

They're investigating.

Did you know this girl?

Only briefly.

But I do know
Walter, Inky, Gilbert.

I must help him.

We had had no sleep
in 72 hours.

The shelling was incessant
and unrelenting.

We were pinned down
by heavy machine gun fire.

Suffice it to say, Magnum, I owe Inky
Gilbert and his brother, Donald,

two Americans who were attached
to our unit, a great debt.

Higgins, soldiers saving
other soldiers' lives

is a common occurrence. We've both...
Yes, but,

in the course
of this incident,

Inky lost his brother.
I'd like to help him.

I'd like for you to help him.

You will, of course,
be compensated.

Well, that's not really the point, Higgins.
The police...

Are conducting
an investigation.

Meanwhile, the adverse publicity
surrounding this tragedy

could cause Inky Gilbert
to lose his contract

with Mike Janes Amusements.
It could break him.

Magnum, I implore you.
Please help.

This feels great!

We're also gonna
have to work here, Rick.

I don't care.

For the first time in your
life, you've done me a favor.

This one's for Higgins.

Yeah, maybe, but... Hey, can I
have a cotton candy, please?

Rick...

Thomas, please, the carnival's
always been my first love.

I ran away with one
when I was 14 years old

and I was gone
for three weeks.

When my old man finally got me, man,
I couldn't sit down for a month.

I mean, I couldn't eat anything
but vanilla milk shakes

and tomato soup. Then I ran
away with the circus...

Did I ever tell you
this before?

Hey, that's my cotton candy.

Come in.

Mr. Gilbert.

Welcome.

You must be
my new roustabouts.

Yep.

Which one's the P.l.?

Thomas Magnum.

Rick Wright.

You know, I ran away with a carnival once.
I was 14 years old.

I was gone for three weeks.
Rick...

When my old man
got me, man, I couldn't...

Rick...

That's all right. I still
feel I'm 14 years old, too.

There's got to be a little boy
inside you to stay in this racket.

God knows it isn't
going to be around long.

The carnivals that crisscross
this country,

playing the country fairs
and revivals,

are soon gonna be
a thing of the past.

A dying piece of Americana.

The midway and the sideshow
are being replaced

by the computer arcade
and the cheap horror films

that are churned out
every five minutes

and don't leave
anything to the imagination.

The mind.

The kid in all of us.

I don't know, maybe America's
grown out of us.

Maybe the little boy
grew up too fast.

He blinks his eyes and he becomes
a lawyer or a computer operator

or a bank teller.

We carnies just
try to get by.

And we try to reach out
to the kid out there.

I'm glad we reached you.

What happens if you don't
reach that kid out there?

Then I sell out
lock, stock and barrel

to Mike Janes and his modern,
"today's" operation.

And we become a quaint
historical footnote,

a sanitized piece of trivia.

I don't want that
to happen to my people.

They're loyal, and most of them
have been with me for a long time,

but they've got to eat.

I haven't written a paycheck
in three weeks.

And unless you guys find out who did
that to poor Robin, God rest her soul,

I'll never write another one.

Rick may have felt
nine years old again,

but somehow I found that
a little bit difficult.

Because even when I was
nine years old

and my grandpa took me to the
carnival at the county fair,

I found myself
asking too many questions.

Questions like, in the
basketball shooting concession,

why was the ball pumped so full
of air that it would bounce off

the too-small rim
and there goes your quarter?

Or why did the beautiful blonde
lady in the dollar-a-kiss booth

smell like a distillery
from 20 feet away?

Or how come
the biggest stuffed animals

you could possibly win
in the shooting gallery

always had an inch
of dust on them?

And now, a lot of years later,

who would want to make a
murder part of the sideshow?

Hello?

Hey, take it easy.

Sorry, I'm a little on edge.
You're the P.l.?

Yeah.

Except it's Private Investigator,
and I'm supposed to be undercover.

Daddy's got a big mouth. Audrey Gilbert.
lnky's little girl.

Aka "Sparky The Clown"
and midway manager.

Nice meeting you. How many other
people know why I'm here?

Just me and Inky.
Honest.

How can I help you?

Well, tell me about Robin. Boyfriends?
Enemies? Debts?

None of the above.

Everybody liked Robin and
Robin liked everybody back.

Been with us for two years.

Joined us in Stockton
when she ran away from home.

Can't think of a damn thing
anybody would have against her.

What about that knife thrower?
The Indian?

The Chief?

Audrey, Audrey.

Yeah, him.

Who is he?

This is Thomas Magnum.

Inky just hired him
as the new roustabout.

I was going over
the ropes with him.

Hi, guy.

White Deer has left.

What do you mean, left?

She quit.

She was tired
of not getting paid.

She left me
for a Portuguese restaurant.

Who am I gonna use
in the act tomorrow?

Tell me? Who?

Don't you worry, Chief.

We will find you another assistant.
I promise.

Someone as fearless as White Deer?
Never.

You've gotta forgive him. He's
had a rough couple of days.

The police have really grilled
him on account of the fact

that the murder weapon
was one of his knives.

See, the case where he keeps
them was broken into.

Of course, the weapon
didn't have his prints on it,

but nevertheless, it's a
matter of pride with him.

He swore he'd kill the person who did it.
I believe him.

What exactly
does a roustabout do?

Okay. Do you know
what a mop and broom are?

Somehow
it wasn't necessary

to have a Tower Of Terror
to get good and scared.

That's because most of the
people I talked to today

were already
half there.

Not me.

Oh, I know
what you're thinking.

That's because
I was thinking it, too.

I was becoming
overly paranoid.

After all, the Tower Of Terror
was nothing more

than just a bunch
of papier-méché goblins

and screech y
sound effects.

Wouldn't have bothered
me nor Gramps one bit.

Boo!

Easy, fella.

Come on, I just work here.
Cleaning up.

Damn rats.

Scared you, didn't I?

Scared me?

Well, you woke me up.

It's getting so a man can't get
a sound sleep around here.

Excuse me.

Who are you?

Thomas Magnum.

Inky hired me and a friend
of mine as roustabouts.

Oh, he did, huh?

The name's Gus Zimmer.

Known professionally
as Gus the Geek.

I'm sorry I frightened you.
Here, let me help you clean up.

Oh, thanks.

You done much
carnie work before?

Well, I've done
a lot of mopping.

Are you a Navy man?

Yeah.

I was in the Army myself,
about a million years ago.

Hey, look,

I know it's my job during
business hours and everything,

but I really wasn't
trying to make you sick.

It's just that it's the only place
where I can catch a few winks

without people
bothering me,

and I don't have to
wear the mask.

And what with everything
that's been going on here,

I guess I'm just as nervous
as everybody else.

Robin?
Yeah.

Surprised anybody took this
job knowing what's going on.

It ain't only Robin, though.

There's been other deaths?

Did I say that?

No, I didn't say that.

I said there's been a lot of
bad stuff going on lately.

That guy in San Diego
had his back broken

when the whirl-a-way
collapsed on him.

Darn thing had just passed
a safety inspection, too.

Then our concession lady, Marge,
had to have her stomach pumped out

when she ate
one of her own chili dogs.

Somebody might have
put some

arsenic into her chili.
She's gone.

I'll tell you, life is tough
even if you don't weaken.

I've been with this carnival for
30 years now and I've seen it all.

I used to be the ringmaster
before the accident.

I used to talk a lot.

Now I don't get
to say much.

All I get to do
is make a few weird noises.

Three times a day.

Gus the Geek.

Subhuman.

What happened?

There was a fire
in Decatur, in '61.

There were some kids.
I got them out.

That was when
I got to be the Geek.

Can't blame Inky any, though.

He's always been
real good to me.

He's kept me on here
through thick and thin,

good times and bad,

and I'd go right to the end
with him.

I just hope it doesn't
come too soon.

There's not much of a
retirement program for geeks.

I'll get the rat.

Needless to say, I didn't
get a great night's sleep.

Jumbled, distorted images
of devils with pitchforks

and ugly green monsters and
chili dogs that came alive

totally routed the poor little
sheep I was trying to count.

They didn't have a chance.

And with all the information
I had gotten yesterday,

I was wondering if Inky
Gilbert's carnival did, either.

What time is it?

It's 6:00 in the morning.
What's the matter with you?

Matter? Matter?

Nothing's the matter.
I love being scared awake.

After all, we're
at a carnival, aren't we?

There's nothing like a 6:00 a.m.
thrill to kick off the old adrenaline.

What are you doing?

I've been out all night
investigating

while you've been sleeping.

Well, you didn't have to clean out the
Tower of Terror or the Tunnel of Love.

Do you want to know
what I found out or not?

What did you find out?

Nothing, but...
Nothing concrete.

But I think
I'm onto something.

It was that Indian Chief's knife
that was used in the murder, right?

So I decided to
check him out.

I followed him
all night long,

because he was yelling
and screaming,

and running inside and outside of
everybody's tents and trailers.

And then he'd sneak up
behind some of the other guys

and he'd just watch them.

And then comes
the weird part.

What weird part?

It was a full moon
last night, right?

This guy goes behind
the amusement park

sits down on the grass,
looks up at the moon...

Are you ready for this?
And starts singing opera.

I'm convinced he's our guy.

Because he was
singing opera?

He was near the tent
when Robin Guthrie got it.

Well, so were a dozen
other people.

And they didn't see a thing. They
were too busy watching the stunt.

Rick, just 'cause this guy
sings opera to the full moon

doesn't mean
he's our killer.

It's a lead.
What do you got?

Nothing.
Oh.

Except a lot of talk
about mysterious accidents.

I mean, this is the worst kind of case, Rick.
There's nothing to go on.

You just gotta... You gotta
kind of blend in

and get familiar with people
till they trust you.

And then, maybe then, somebody
will let something slip,

and you got them.

It's called deep cover.

We could be here
for a long time.

That's great.

Except Inky Gilbert
doesn't have a long time.

I know.

What do you got in mind?

Well, we accelerate the process.
We take control.

HOW?

No, wait a second.
Where are you going?

We're history, Inky.
We're gone.

No, no!

No, No.
You can't leave, you can't.

We are,
and you can't stop us.

But why?

Because we gotta eat.

Yeah, and buy
some razor blades.

But, guys,
what about the show?

Chris, we're family.

A broken family, Inky.

I'll get the money,
I promise.

It's not just the money.

This carnival
isn't safe anymore.

We don't want to go, but this
is the way it's gotta be.

Goodbye, Inky.

Please don't leave.
Chris, Charles.

It won't be like Hackensack.

There go
a lot of suspects, Thomas.

Hey, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

This is great, this is just great.
Hey, Gilbert.

Mike Janes Amusements
has a contract

with the Inky Gilbert
Carnival.

Now, apparently,
there isn't one.

The hell there isn't.

How so?

You just open the gates
at 11:00, Mr. Janes.

The show will go on.

This I gotta see.

Is he a man
or is he an animal?

A mere four bits will let
you decide for yourself.

See the Geek
drink human blood.

Will his animal thirst
ever be quenched?

See what happens when live rodents
are unleashed in his cage.

The Geek! The Geek! The Geek!
Come on.

Step up, step up, step up.

There's fun for everyone.

I've had
enough of this.

Come on, where's all
your carnie spirit?

Where's your leads?

And what about
accelerating the process?

I have a new theory.
Yeah, what's that?

The who-stands-to-gain the-most
if-Inky-goes-under theory.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
We're saved!

Daddy, what are you
talking about?

The Inky Gilbert
Traveling Carnival lives!

Daddy, I know we did well,

but we can't keep up this kind of
effort unless we're at full strength.

We are,
or we will be.

After I hire everybody back
tomorrow morning.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your paychecks.

So much
for my new theory.

But out of its ashes
grew another.

Admittedly, sneaking into the
office of your own client

wasn't the most exemplary of
private investigative techniques.

But then again,
when you're out of leads,

being exemplary isn't as important
as getting to the truth.

No matter where it may lie.

Hello, Magnum.

Going through the books?

I see you met Waldo.

Say hello, Waldo.
"Hi, Magnum.

"Find anything interesting?"

Yes, I did.

Let me guess.

You couldn't find anything
concrete about Robin's murder,

so your untrusting mind began
searching for other motives.

The non-emotional kind,
the baser kind. Like

economics.

Sure, you'd heard about the accidents
and misfortunes I've been having.

So you began
to wonder,

"Hey, maybe old lnky's making
some dough on the deal.

"He can't be making any money out
of this third-rate carnival.

"Maybe he's trying to get it out
of the insurance companies.

"How's he doing?"

You're doing wonderfully.
Keep going.

I will, son. I will.

But here's where your suspicious
little mind and reality part company.

I don't get a red cent
for any of those accidents.

All I got
were higher premiums,

substantially higher.

I'm dying here, Magnum, and you're
trying to shovel dirt on the coffin

before it's even
in the ground.

It's good thinking, though.

I've got to admire you
in a strange sort of way.

Higgins was right.
He sent the best.

He said that? The best?

You gotta know
how to read him.

Are you all finished here?

So we can get some sleep and start
all over again tomorrow morning?

Oh, just a minute.

You can help me fix

King Arthur's iron mace
in the Wax Museum.

Just a second, Inky.
I'm not finished here yet.

How about explaining the $10,000 cash
deposit in the carnival account?

Maybe I've got
a silent partner.

You're grasping
at straws, Magnum.

And I guess I appreciate it,

but where I got that money
is of no concern to you

and has absolutely nothing to
do with Robin Guthrie's death.

I promise.

Oh, my God.
I'll call an ambulance.

Rick?
Call the police.

We should have
never come back.

The Chief's dead.

I think Rick's alive.

Hey.

My God, Magnum, you've got
the wrong bloody clown.

- Rick?
- Rick?

What?

How do you feel?

That's a dumb question.

How would you feel if someone hit
you over the head with a hammer?

I feel like garbage.

Who's your friend?

It's just Higgins.

Did you get a look at the
guy who did this to you?

No.

I was following my suspect.

The Chief?

Yeah, the Chief.

He was carrying
one of his knives

and heading towards
the Wax Museum.

So I followed him inside.

It was all dark, and then...

What?

I don't know.

What did you see?

I saw a Fourth of July
fireworks show

and a million little angels
singing in my head.

And I guess
that's when he hit me.

The Chief?

Who else?

Chief's dead, Rick.

Oh. Good night.

All right.

Why were you there?

And why are you dressed up
in this stupid suit?

What I was doing there should
be obvious, even to you.

I was attempting to assist.

By lurking and skulking
in the shadows of the midway?

That's my job.

At which you were not being
entirely successful.

Magnum, I was
only trying to help.

I don't need your help.

Inky Gilbert does.

Oh, great. Coming from a guy
in a clown suit?

Come on, Higgins,
I gotta do this my way.

While the body count rises.

Higgins.

Obviously, the Chief had
a very strong notion

of who Robin Guthrie's
murderer was.

Well, I'm beginning to think
l do, too.

Who?

Possibly Inky Gilbert.

That is the most baseless and absurd
statement I've ever heard you make.

Rick was hit over the head.
What's your excuse?

No excuses. Higgins, you've got
to consider the possibility.

Look, before we found
Rick and the Chief,

Inky caught me in his office
going through his books.

You were what?

Higgins, you look terrible.

Why were you going through
lnky's books?

I'll get to that.

The point is that Inky walked
in with a big monkey wrench,

a nice blunt instrument.

He said he was doing some
repair work in the Wax Museum.

So Inky killed the Chief and
attempted to do the same to Rick?

That is conjecture at its most flimsy.
Indeed, libelous.

Damn it, Higgins,
he had a motive.

What motive?
Money.

What, insurance?

No, not insurance. He told
me the truth about that.

But I found out
from lnky's books

that if the carnival goes under,
there's a sweet buyout clause

from Mike Janes
Amusements.

Inky would never give up the carnival.
It's his...

Life. Yeah, I know.

Spare me that "one big
happy family" stuff.

As of this moment,
you are off the case.

No, I'm not.

What if they gave a
carnival and nobody came?

I guess everybody moves on,

leaving behind a lot of dreams
and illusions

and sticky candy wrappers.

But in this case
there's also left behind

the rather sticky matter
of two dead bodies

and one potentially
ruined friendship.

But despite that,
I wasn't going anywhere.

Hey. That costs money, pal.

But then, it's not gonna make
much difference, anyway.

What do you mean?

We'll all be gone soon.

I think you just won
yourself a stuffed dinosaur.

Hell, we're living in one.

Inky wants to see you.
I'll take care of this here.

Yeah?

Oh.

I'm afraid I'm gonna
have to let you go, Magnum.

We're closing tomorrow night.
Courtesy of Mr. Janes.

I'm not a roustabout,
remember?

I've got another job to do and
I'm not quite finished yet.

Oh, yes, you are.

Higgins called this morning.
This is per him.

You're out of here
as of now.

The police will continue
their investigation.

And so will I.

Not in my carnival.
Not while I still have it.

Read the back of your ticket,

the part where I've got the right
to refuse admission to anyone.

It's not gonna be
that easy, Inky.

My friend was hurt, too.

Save me
the cheap melodramatics.

I feel as bad
about Rick as you do.

And I feel a whole lot worse
about Robin and the Chief,

but this is the first fight
of my life I've ever lost.

And the lousy thing about it is
I'm beginning to get used to it.

I'm also beginning
to get used to the fact

that these murders
were committed solely

to drive me out of business.

And if you were
such a great detective,

perhaps that's where
you should've started,

instead of me and my people.

You're talking about Janes?

I ain't naming names.

I checked Janes out.
He's got an airtight alibi,

and if you want to talk about
motive, he doesn't have one.

He's gonna lose money
with this carnival.

Just like me.

Only I'm gonna
lose a lot more.

Now get out of here, Magnum,

there's enough buzzards
around and the air stinks.

A good friendship is usually
a difficult entity to maintain.

There's got to be
a commonality of interests,

an enjoyment
of each other's company,

and an appreciation
of the other's differences.

But if those items don't really
exist in large quantities,

there has to be an underlying
basis of honesty and truth.

But maybe this time
the truth was something

Higgins didn't want to see

because of his friendship
with Inky.

But because of my
friendship with Higgins,

it was something
he had to see.

Higgins.

I want to apologize for yelling at
you last night at the hospital.

I understand the bond
that you and Inky share,

and I appreciate what it means, and
I appreciate your loyalty to him.

Oh, yeah, I found out from a
friend of T.C.'s at the bank

that the money that's
been keeping the carnival

and Inky afloat's from you.

Converted pounds sterling
from your British bank.

But, Higgins.

You can't judge a man
by one incident in his life.

You have to look
at the whole picture,

the essence of who he is.

Now, damn it, Higgins,

maybe Inky doesn't even want
your money, or my help,

or the carnival's.

Have you ever
considered that?

Maybe all he wants
is out.

All I'm saying is,
I think we should find out.

Your passion for the truth
is commendable, Magnum.

And, yes,
I do appreciate that.

But, ultimately,
it is misguided.

Why?

Because Inky Gilbert was just found
strangled to death in his office.

I'm sorry, Higgins.

I know that doesn't mean
a whole lot right now.

Magnum, your words
are unnecessary.

I do understand
how you feel.

Do you?

Inky told me you said
you were sending him the best.

Except maybe I should have
been a little quicker, too.

At the moment, postmortems
and self-recrimination

are irrelevant.

This is not self-recrimination.
It's not a postmortem.

It's finished.

No, it isn't.

Why go back? lnky's dead,
the carnival is over.

I'm not going
to the carnival,

not just yet.
But I am going back.

Where?

I'm going to the one place
and the one time

you've never mentioned in all
your ramblings or your memoirs.

North Africa, August of '42.

Chris, Charles.

Is Gus still around?

Where is he gonna go?

Gus is inside.

Thanks. Good luck.

Thanks.

There's something
disturbing and sad

when you see something
out of its normal element.

Like a fish helplessly thrashing
on the deck of a boat,

or those carnies who have no idea
that there's another world out there,

or much less have
the ability to cope in it.

But at least
they made the choice.

Somehow, I had the feeling that Gus
Zimmer didn't have those kind of options.

And when you're
out of options,

you can either cry for help,
or blow sky high.

Maybe I should have heard
Gus's cry for help,

but there were
so many other voices.

Inky's, Higgins', the Chief's,
Mike Janes', Audrey's.

But I was listening now.

I only hoped
it wasn't too late.

Are you looking
for something?

Not anymore.

I found
what I'm looking for.

You're in my stuff.

Yeah, I was, Donald.

The name's Gus.

Not 44 years ago, it wasn't.

Forty-four years ago
in North Africa,

it was Donald.

When you and your brother were
fighting next to an Englishman

named Jonathan Quayle Higgins.
That's where you got burned.

There was no fire in Decatur,
no kids.

The hell there wasn't.

The firemen gave me
a commendation.

It's right here somewhere.

Oh, I don't think so.

Probably some kind
of clerical error, right?

Some harried medic buries the
real Gus Zimmer under your name.

The name that's on this
Purple Heart, your dog tags.

Donald Gilbert.

Why'd you do it?

Why?

You're asking me why?

There's enough light here.
Take a good look.

I had a fiancée and a job
to come back to.

When I took the bandages off
and looked in the mirror,

I knew it was
never gonna happen.

I didn't want
to put anyone through

the grief of having to
look at me and smile

and try to be brave and try to keep
from throwing up at the same time.

So it turned out to be
a whole lot better for me

just to be Gus Zimmer.

No hassles. No pity. Just a bunch
of sawdust and cheap laughs.

You should've seen
the look on lnky's face

when I showed up
a few years later.

Back from the dead.

I'll say this for him, though,
he was a good brother.

He took care of me.
No questions asked.

Then why'd you kill him?

Who says I killed him?

The buyout clause in lnky's contract
with Mike Janes Amusements.

Gus Zimmer gets the payoff in
the event of lnky's death.

You're the silent partner.

Now, what would a geek
want with money?

Well,

maybe some kind
of real life.

Some kind of life where you
don't have to drool and moan

and chase live rats around
three times a day.

Some kind of life where you can
rent an apartment, watch TV,

pretend you're just like
everybody else.

You wanted out, Donald.

You started with the accidents,
trying to get Inky to sell.

But Inky was tough,
and you escalated.

You didn't have to kill.

How do you know that?

You're a pretty good guesser,

but you don't know
what it's really like.

And unless you swallow
a bucketful of fire

trying to save some berserk
lunatic someday, you never will.

What are you saying?
Higgins?

No, not Higgins.
My brother, Inky.

He snapped.

He was too tired or too crazy,
I don't know. But he snapped.

He took off running straight
at an enemy machine-gun nest.

Blazing away,
and I had to get him out.

But instead of him ending up
the dead hero, I got to be it.

Where was Higgins?

He was holding his position.
He was following orders.

He was doing exactly
what he was supposed to do.

Maybe he doesn't think so.

Who cares? It doesn't matter anymore.
It's over.

It's all over now.

Tell me something.
How did you get a fix on me?

Was it the buyout clause?

No.

I don't know, you just shot
that rifle too damn good.

Come on, let's go.

Where?

Find some people
who can help you.

Me included.

Thomas.

Don't. Stay right there.

I may be ugly,
I may be crazy,

but I'm not going
to no hospital.

Where are you going?

France.

One million dollars and a
plane to France? That guy is crazy.

We'll just extradite him.

I know that. And more
importantly, he knows that.

But you gotta
go through the motions.

The man has
nothing to lose.

That's impossible.
I'm moving in.

You move in,
and he kills Audrey Gilbert.

Now, look, he gave you
an hour. Give me 10 minutes.

I can't.
You know that.

I know that place.
I've cleaned it often enough.

Let me try, please.

I gotta look over the
blueprints of the building.

Talk to me in 15 minutes.

Magnum.

What is the status
of the operation?

The status is I'm gonna
go in there

and try and get Audrey out.

I'm going with you.
No.

I must.
Please understand, Magnum.

I have my reasons.

I know what they are, Higgins.
And I do understand.

You did the right thing
44 years ago.

Do the right thing now.

Please, please,
give me the gun.

Don't worry, I'm not
gonna hurt you.

Why are you doing this?

'Cause I want people
to remember who I was.

Let her go, Donald.

Come on.

Sure. No problem.
Go ahead.

Why don't you just
put that gun away?

No!

I never wanted
to go to France, anyway.

The front,
run to the front!

Donald!

Why?

For all of us, come.

Magnum.

Higgins.