Original subtitles

Gotti took this man for no good reason.

He's convinced that your guy may have something to do

with Vincent Zaccaro's disappearance.

I'm gonna need you to put a bullet in Flanagan's head.

Jimmy, I told you what to do.

He's my friend, Eamon. And he's one of us.

Those Irish bastards are responsible for this.

I need those Irish bastards.

I can run the Javits.

I would consider letting you do that.

But you've been a naughty boy.

Apparently, some of Castellano's captains

are going against his wishes, trafficking in narcotics.

The club is a front

for a Colombian distribution network.

We don't sling warehouse orders to strangers.

I work for Vincent Zaccaro.

But if you want Mickey back,

I think this is your best bet.

I have to send a message to the Colombians.

"Do not sell cocaine to John Gotti."

- This is fucking suicide! - Yeah, I know.

But what other choice do I have?

I do have a wee favor to ask you.

I have a package that I need kept safe.

- How many warheads are there? - There's just one.

Drugs are dirty and dangerous.

Sean!

I'm not gonna jeopardize everything

I've built for a quick buck.

All due respect, drugs are here to stay.

And if we don't sell 'em, somebody else will.

Stop!

Took a souvenir.

Our timeline has been ramped up.

Soon I'll be taking that weapon off your hands.

There was a murder of a cop in Massachusetts.

The killer is the kind of man my son admires.

Well, at least one good thing came out of it.

I killed a cop.

Worse than that, the kind of man

my son could someday become.

I know who killed that cop.

It was fuckin' Pat Murphy.

What makes you say that?

You're gonna fuckin' tell me.

- I'll make it go away. - How much?

I just want you to leave my boy Danny alone.

In return...

I'll handle Pat Murphy.

We commend our brother to God's mercy.

Trusting that, even in death, there is grace.

Judge not lest ye be judged, the Bible teaches us.

This applies not only to men's deeds,

but to the mysterious works of the Lord.

Pat Murphy was a dear friend...

a son...

...and soon-to-be father.

And although the Lord has called him back,

we thank Him for the time we did have with Pat.

And entrust Pat's soul...

...to His eternal care.

May the Earth receive him gently.

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.

- ♪ It didn't take long ♪ - ♪ It didn't take long ♪

-♪ I didn't get far ♪ - ♪ I didn't get far ♪

♪ Before the cops were told ♪

- ♪ That I'd stolen the car ♪ - ♪ Stolen the car ♪

- ♪ There was an APB ♪ - ♪ APB ♪

- ♪ Sent out for me ♪ - ♪ Out for me ♪

♪ Ratted out by my own ♪

♪ Now I'm a public enemy ♪

♪ I'm a Catholic school kid ♪

-♪ I'm an altar boy ♪ - ♪ Altar boy ♪

♪ I was dropped on my head ♪

- ♪ Now I'm here to destroy ♪ - ♪ Here to destroy ♪

-♪ I'm a stone-cold killer ♪ - ♪ Stone-cold killer ♪

- ♪ In the CYO ♪ - ♪ CYO ♪

♪ I'm lining them up ♪

♪ And I'm laying them low ♪

♪ But honest as the day is long that's a fact ♪

♪ I'm not nearly half as bad as I act ♪

♪ See, I'm always wrong in the eyes of the law ♪

♪ Parents and priests say it's the final straw ♪

♪ But sure as the sun, it rises and sets ♪

♪ I'll do it again, it's a surefire bet ♪

Good Lord, you guys see Pat's ex?

That bun in the oven looked about to burst.

I didn't know Pat was gonna be a father.

Did any of you?

- Yeah. Yeah. - Yeah, of course.

She kicked him out 'cause he didn't want to marry her.

She woulda taken him back.

It's a tough break for the kid.

Why don't you raise the kid, Mick, huh?

You look like you're ready to be a father.

Fuck off.

What I'd like to know

is who the fuck would do Pat in our own backyard?

Yeah.

Sweeney, Breen.

Boss.

Sad day.

Sad day indeed.

Any word yet?

Word is there were some Puerto Ricans

looking for trouble in the neighborhood that night.

So... we're lookin' into it.

Take care.

Come on. Let's go get a drink.

♪ I ♪

♪ Haven't seen you in a while ♪

♪ I sigh ♪

♪ Miss your little smile ♪

♪ Never told you ♪

♪ I loved you in a while ♪

♪ Wish I was back home ♪

♪ Again ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

One for Pat!

For Pat!

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, now ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ I tell ya ♪

♪ Oh ♪

Miss you. We love you.

Cliffie!

Hey! Hey!

Lads, lads, lads!

Ciúnas! Ciúnas!

Connor, Connor. Shut up.

Thank you, Cliffie.

When I was growing up here in Hell's Kitchen...

...I could walk Ninth Avenue from 50th Street

down to 34th Street...

say hello to every soul I encountered.

Man, woman and child by name.

Times change.

Lot of faces have changed.

Some of us have grown old beyond recognition.

Some are gone.

What I'm trying to say is...

...doesn't matter if it's your best friend...

...your family...

...or somebody you don't even know.

When we lose someone from the neighborhood...

...we all feel it.

Pat Murphy was part of what makes this neighborhood great.

And our best tribute to him...

...is to continue to thrive.

That's what Pat would want.

So, here's to Pat Murphy,

and all of us who hold him in our hearts.

To Paddy.

Slàinte.

Slàinte.

Be right back.

- Had a little talk with Danny. - Yeah?

Told him he's not working for me anymore,

- like you asked me to. - I appreciate that.

It's a little more complicated.

How so?

He thinks you had something to do with Pat Murphy's death.

Oh, what the fuck. Wait, he said that?

He says you basically beat the information out of him,

and then after that, Pat shows up dead on the street.

Nah. I gave him a fucking smack

'cause he was running a smart mouth.

Whatever. If he starts talking to Pat's friends about it,

that's not gonna be good for you.

More importantly, the boys think I had anything to do with it,

that's not gonna be good for me, which is also not good for you.

- Understood? - Yeah, yeah.

What do you want me to do?

Convince your kid you had nothing to do with it.

Yeah, convince him how?

Whatever the fuck, Glenn, I don't know.

I'm not the dad, you are. Figure it out.

How much we got so far, Jimmy?

About 480.

Make it an even five.

Shit, we're gonna need more.

Look, Jimmy,

we all know where we can get more money.

A lot more.

We're sitting on a fortune, Jimmy.

Mr. Sweeney has forbidden us from selling drugs.

So why'd you take 'em out of the disco, then?

I'm hoping to change his mind.

Go by yourself. I'm out.

What're you talking about? Sweeney wants us

to collect the numbers. We're gonna be late.

Sweeney doesn't want to see me.

Why?

It's my stupid dad.

He's bustin' my balls.

But fuck him. I'll change Sweeney's mind.

I can't even fuckin' fasten these pants,

- let 'em out an inch. - Yes, Mr. Sweeney.

I weigh the exact same as the last time

I wore this fucking monkey suit.

- How is my belly bigger? - I guess your waist's

been drinking pints behind your back again.

Possible your trousers just shrunk, Mr. Sweeney.

Smart man.

Eddie, I'm gonna replace you with Mr. Quinn here.

Great. He'd be doing us both a fucking favor then.

Sorry to interrupt.

No worries. We're just...

getting me ready for the big night.

He's being honored by the Hibernian Society.

Lifetime Achievement Award.

Aren't you a bit young for that?

Please don't flatter him, his head's big enough.

Just like his fucking waistline.

So, what's the award for?

Uh, it's for someone who embodies Irish heritage,

Catholic values, and public service.

Translation, someone who will make a large donation

to one of their charities.

Yeah, everybody's got their fuckin' hands

in my pockets. Welcome to my world.

Jimmy, listen, have the boys pass out some of those,

uh, the invites, yeah?

I don't expect you hoi polloi to come,

it's 50 bucks a plate.

Well, actually, there was-- there was something

I wanted to talk to you about.

- Can we speak in private? - Yeah.

Give me a minute. I'll meet you outside.

Fucking thing.

First of all, I just, I want to say thank you,

for what you did for Mickey.

How's he feeling?

Ah, he's-- he's sore.

I think he kinda likes the pain.

I admire the way you stood up for Flanagan.

It pissed me off...

...but I understand.

You know, a man gets to be my age, you start thinking

about certain things.

Do I care about this award? No.

But it does symbolize something important.

And that's,

you sum up a man's life,

you want to know what he stood for, right?

Now, I don't give half a shit about the Hibernian Society,

but I care about this neighborhood.

So, what'd you want to come see me about?

That Starship job Castellano gave us.

Look, I know you share his feelings about dealing coke

and I get it.

I do...

but if we don't deal it, someone else will.

I mean, they already are,

and whoever does,

they'll just become stronger and more of a threat to us.

Why are we having this conversation, Jimmy?

Because I took six kilos from that disco

before we burned it down.

Fuck! Jesus Christ. Zip that shit up.

Goddamnit!

Look, we could use the money to help Pat's ma and his kid.

If it even is his fucking kid.

To be frank with you, Eamon,

you know, you're giving all this money away

to charity, which is great,

but me and the boys are kinda hurtin' for cash.

And this... this Javits Center is

all well and good for you but--

This Javits Center is gonna help all of us, okay?

- It's bringing in millions-- - Yeah, no, I know--

Unless-- Unless you fuck it up dealing drugs.

The Feds are handing out 30-year sentences for narcotics.

So, somebody gets busted,

they're gonna fucking flip.

That's why Big Paul is against it and I am too.

With all due respect, Eamon,

you can't stop cocaine from taking over.

Demand's too great.

And I think it's worth the risk.

You fucking shot Zaccaro against my wishes,

and good riddance, fuck that guy.

We're still trying to clean up that fucking mess, okay?

Don't go against me on this.

I'm gonna fuckin' burn this shit.

- But I'm just-- I-- - Look, we don't

fucking deal drugs.

Period. Understood?

Yes, sir.

Make sure your crew gets that message.

I've been leaning on the Dominicans

and the Harlem crews.

Everybody knows something went down...

but nobody knows who stole your cocaine.

We need fucking answers.

You tell every corner boy from Jamaica to Jerome

that if so much as a gram of my coke shows up,

I want to know where, when, and who's holding it.

- Absolutely. - And you let them know that

any stupid motherfucker caught trying to sell

my product, they're gonna die.

I understand.

Whoever fucking robbed you

knew to use Zaccaro's name.

So, if you ask me, it's Big Paul,

sending a message through the back door,

and using those fuckin' Micks as pawns.

- Backstabbing cocksucker. - He's got brass fucking balls.

Yeah.

One day, I'm gonna shove them up his ass.

Now, fuck off.

Hello, Moira.

What the hell are you doing here?

I need to talk to Danny. He here?

He's in school.

School?

Yeah. That's what he tells me anyway.

When will he be home?

No idea.

But he won't want to see you, I can tell ya that right now.

Okay.

Can we talk, please?

It's been a long time. Please? It's important.

Five minutes.

Jacob's Biscuits? Where'd you find those?

There's a place on 23rd Street. Danny picks 'em up for me.

So he says he's going to school?

He's not. He's hanging out

with Irish gangsters on the West Side.

To be honest, I don't know where the hell he goes.

He came back last week with his face busted up,

and he wouldn't tell me what happened.

He barely says a word to me, but...

he buys me these biscuits 'cause he knows that I like 'em.

And Eileen liked them too.

Yeah. They were her favorite.

So, I been trying.

I've been trying to form

some kind of a relationship with him.

It's a bit late for that.

Yeah, well, maybe you could help me.

How could I help you?

You know, better question,

why the fuck should I help you?

I haven't seen you since my sister's funeral.

You think it's been a pleasure raising that boy?

Every birthday, Christmas...

every anniversary of my sister's death, and...

...not a fucking peep out of you.

I can't change that.

Let me try and fix things.

Right.

Look who came by to say hello.

- Look at this shit. - What the fuck?

Right? So, if this is pure, it's gotta be worth,

I don't know, three, four hundred grand...

a lot of fuckin' money.

I thought you told Jimmy that we weren't gonna--

Yeah, if the young guys start selling this shit,

it's gonna go tits up for sure.

This is one time only.

And what if Castellano finds out?

Fuck Big Paul.

He's a hypocrite.

He gets kick-ups on the same drugs

he forbids Gotti from selling.

I guess that makes us hypocrites then, doesn't it?

Yeah, I guess it does.

Maybe I'll donate mine to the Hibernian Society,

feed the poor Irish.

What are you gonna do with the rest?

Don't worry, Eddie, you'll get your cut.

Yeah.

Get a hold of Leon, will ya?

Tell him I wanna see him.

Okay.

Hey.

I owe you an apology.

More than one.

Let me see your face.

You know, my old man used to hit me a lot growing up.

That's not an excuse.

It's just all I know.

I'll let you in on a little secret.

I hate myself more than you could ever hate me.

I'm sorry, Danny.

What I just don't understand is, why'd you leave?

When your mother and I got together,

I-- I'd just come back home from the war.

I-I-I was broken.

I think she was a little broken, too.

Both of us were drinking hard,

and she got into drugs.

Heroin.

I left.

I fucking left.

I left you behind with her fuckin' sister,

and I hate myself for doing that.

But you are my son.

And I love you with all that I am.

And I would do anything to protect you from harm.

Do you understand that?

Did you kill Pat?

No.

Homicide guys said it was...

some spics did it over a dope deal.

This is why I'm sayin' stay off the streets,

do your schoolwork.

Be good.

Don't end up like Pat.

I'm tired.

All right.

It's okay I come back, visit you again sometime?

What's the soonest we can safely move that package off the docks?

That's why I, uh, asked you here.

What is it?

I went to check on it last night,

and it was missing.

And sometimes they clear out the unused cargo crates,

unbeknownst to me,

and that is probably what happened.

Are you fuckin' jokin' me?

I'm sorry, Brendan.

It's gone, and it's probably in a landfill,

which is good 'cause it means it won't be discovered,

and it will not be traced back--

Need a hand, Bridget?

Yeah, best not to make a scene.

Is that why you brought me here?

What'd you think I was gonna do? Put a fuckin' gun in your mouth?

'Cause you're right. That's exactly

what I fuckin' would have done.

Yeah. I wouldn't put it past ya.

Do you realize what a major fuck-up this is?

Well, I don't know what your plan is,

but I'm sure you'll figure a way around it.

You're some piece of work, aren't you?

What I was doing wasn't just for Ireland.

It was for you.

What're you talking about?

My target.

The British operative,

flying into New York from Belfast.

Colonel Gerald Markham.

The man who killed your parents.

Can't believe we're back to this nickel-and-dime shit.

Yeah, business as usual.

It's fucked up.

I mean, that coke could be worth 300 grand,

that's before we even cut it.

A lot of us could use that kind of fuckin' money.

Hey, you're alive, right? And that's 'cause of who?

- You. - No, not just me.

If Sweeney hadn't gone to Castellano, you'd be dead,

so don't forget that.

If he wants us to do a job, we do it.

He's the fuckin' boss. Not you. Not me.

Hello, Finn.

Boys. How may I help you?

You know why we're here.

Uh, Mr. Sweeney will have his money by next Tuesday.

Yeah, you said that last Tuesday.

I meant the Tuesday after this.

What you got there?

These fuckin' dog tags?

Are you selling these?

You can put your name on the blank ones.

Yeah, I got some already.

So do my buddies,

half of them lyin' in a fucking jungle right now!

- You fucking cocksucker! - Hey, hey, hey.

Calm down. All right?

Look, look,

my bookie ran off with my money.

You shouldn't be betting on the fuckin' horses, Finn.

Do you remember what I said last time?

- Yeah. - No money,

I'm gonna have to break your thumbs.

Or I'm gonna cut 'em off with this.

Look, be reasonable, Jimmy.

I have a tip for you at Aqueduct!

Give me your hands, Finn.

- It's 35 to one! - Hands, Finn! Let's go.

Give him your fuckin' hands!

I knew your mother! She was a very good woman!

I used to see her at Holy Cross!

Hey, you better shut the fuck up,

or I'm putting this knife right up your ass.

Please!

Fuck it.

What are you doin'?

See what we got here.

Twelve bucks?

The fuck kinda business you runnin' here, Finn?

Jesus.

I am gonna give you one more day.

And you at least come up with the vig.

Do you understand?

No more bettin' on the fuckin' horses.

I promise.

Bless you, Jimmy!

Take whatever you want from the shop!

Fuck you!

Just come up with the money.

I see these on sale again, you're fucking dead.

Eamon Sweeney with six fucking keys.

Gotta say I was surprised.

Came my way as payback for a debt.

What, motherfucker just handed you six bricks?

The motherfucker is sitting in Rikers,

looking at five to ten.

This is all he had to give.

Hmm.

You was always so fucking strict about no dope.

In this case, I got no choice.

Since we're in business together with the shylocking

and the numbers,

I know you're a man I can trust.

Now that is correct.

My man.

How's the purity?

It's over 95 percent.

Hoo. Shit.

You didn't get it from me, right?

You dealing powder?

Who the fuck is going to believe me anyway?

Yo, Charlie, we was never here, right?

No, sir.

Okay, so how much?

- Twenty a key. - Get the fuck.

We're not fuckin' idiots here, Leon.

That stuff goes wholesale at least 50, 55 a kilo.

Hm. So, you a big cocaine man now?

Yeah.

Forty's what I pay when it comes shrink-wrapped

from Medellin with a priest's blessing.

Give you 40 apiece for the first five,

35 for everything after that.

Won't be any more after this.

Who did you get this from again?

Fuck off.

- Always good to see you, Eamon. - Yeah.

Be seein' you.

- Oh, fuck, sorry! - Hey, princess!

Uh, Erin here was just

helping me with my recovery.

She's doin' a splendid job, actually.

Yeah, yeah, is Jimmy here?

- He's just in the bedroom. - Okay.

What are you tryin' to do? You trying to get me

kicked outta here?

Do you know what's going on out there?

Yeah, what do you think I've been listening to

for the past hour?

Hi.

Yeah, I know.

Bit of a mood kill.

So, uh...

I, I, I talked to Cahill.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.

And did he buy our story?

Yeah.

Yeah. He was angry,

but it's nothing I can't handle.

It turns out he doesn't need the weapon

to complete the mission.

But he does need me.

Have you lost your fuckin' mind?

Can't you see what he's trying to do, he's tryin' to get

- in your fucking head? - Jimmy. Stop, stop!

It's not, not for Cahill,

and it is not for Ireland.

This is my choice. I am doing this for me.

What does that even mean?

Okay, all right, it's for you, then.

Just tell me what you're doing, then.

I can't.

Why not?

Because you'll try and stop me.

I never ask you

to explain the things you do, and the same goes for me.

You and I...

we have to trust each other.

But this is fucking dangerous, Bridget.

And what you do isn't?

Well, it sounds like they're fuckin' in love.

Just promise me you'll come back to me.

I fucking promise.

Are you sure about that?

Eamon Sweeney himself sold it to Leon?

That's right.

So why the fuck are you here and not Leon?

He got a good deal on that shit, man.

He wasn't asking any questions.

That motherfucker.

How do we know it's the same fuckin' stuff?

Hmm?

I don't trust this nigger.

I figured you would say something like that,

all disrespectful and shit

while I'm here risking my ass with Leon for being here,

trying to help you motherfuckers.

Hey Phil, watch your mouth. Got proof?

Sure as fuck do.

I snagged this wrap...

when Leon and the boys were cutting it up.

That's the Colombian stamp, right?

That's the shit that was dealt out of the Starship.

Yeah, that's the same packaging.

All right, Charlie. You done good.

How good?

Quack, give him five Gs.

Ten would be better.

Yeah, listen, how 'bout I keep my money

and you don't walk outta here?

Damn, you boys don't know how to take a joke.

So, what's our next move?

Kill that motherfucker Eamon Sweeney.

Motherfucker.

What was that about?

Apparently, you didn't do a very good job

- convincing your kid. - The fuck did he say?

He thinks I gave the order and you killed Pat Murphy.

Son of a bitch.

I told him I had nothin' to do with it.

Yeah. He also said he doesn't care.

He'll keep his mouth shut if I take him back.

Basically, your kid is fuckin' blackmailing me here, Glenn.

I'll talk to him again. Straighten him out.

Will you now?

Yeah, yeah.

I don't have time for this shit.

If I see Danny around the neighborhood...

...I might have to shut him up myself.

That's my son you're talkin' about.

Yeah. And if you want to keep him alive...

keep him out of Hell's Kitchen.

I won't be having this conversation again.

I fuckin' hate this place.

It's like a gift shop for yuppies

to buy our shit so they can feel tough.

We should burn this place to the ground

with that motherfucker inside it.

Fuckin' why'd you go easy on that guy?

- Hey, Jimmy? - What?

You hear what I said? I said, why'd you let him off?

I don't know.

He knew my ma before she got sick.

Oh.

She was a nice lady, your mother.

Always good to me.

It's a shame your father was a fuckin' asshole.

Uh, boys. I thought you'd give me till evening.

Oh, for Christ's sake, Finn. I already gave you a break.

Look, look, look, my cousin

from New Jersey is comin'. He's gonna lend me the money.

Oh, look, I've already gotten $50 here. Look, see?

Just stop it with the fucking bullshit.

I promise you, it is not helping.

And gimme your fucking hands.

I'm-- I'll have it by tonight, I swear.

Gimme your fuckin' hands!

I'll make it fast, okay?

Your Mr. Sweeney just donated $100,000

to the Hibernian Society,

and he's going to need my lousy 250 by tonight?

It ain't fair, Jimmy!

Where'd he get that kind of money?

What the fuck'd you just say?

Yeah, yeah, $100,000 in cash

because they're giving him some goddamn award!

Everybody's talkin' about it!

Are you fuckin' lying to me?

No, Jimmy.

Bandage your thumbs like I broke 'em

and don't take 'em off for three weeks.

Do you hear?

Thank you. Thank you, Jimmy!

I'll have the money by tonight!

Just... just get it when you can.

Okay.

Do you think Sweeney sold our coke?

Fuck yeah, I do.

Now, Greg Scarpa vouched for you boys,

so I know you're pros, but you go straight back

to Philly when you're done-- no fucking hanging around.

We can do this tomorrow night.

We know where he's gonna be.

Been advertising it all around town.

Hibernian Award Dinner?

That's perfect.

Give them shanty Irish motherfuckers

something they can really celebrate.

John...

you sure you wanna do this?

Well, I didn't stutter, did I?

Big Paul has an agreement with Sweeney.

- It may rattle him. - Paul can suck my dick.

John, just... think this through.

What, do I look like I give a shit?

I put up 50K for that shipment. Now, I'm out of pocket

and I gotta kick up to Paul no matter what? What the fuck?

- I'm just sayin'-- - And I'm just saying,

keep that shit to yourself. You boys good?

I want a phone call when you get back to Philly.

I wanna know this cocksucker's dead.

You said it was important.

I need help with Danny.

I want him pulled off the street, sent to rehab.

I don't care where. Arizona, Maine. Anywhere.

- Just out of New York City. - Why?

Sweeney's paranoid. He thinks Danny stole from him

but he didn't, but it doesn't matter.

Sweeney told the bartender at the 596

he's gonna put a bullet in Danny

I don't get him out of the Kitchen.

Let me be clear on what you're asking me.

You want me to arrest your son?

No. I can position that.

What I need from you is to use your influence

with the authorities to get him out of town.

You're asking me to use federal pull

to ship your kid to a safe house disguised as a clinic?

Yeah, won't look good if the son

of one of your informants turns up in the East River.

What do I get?

I think there's a connection between Sweeney, Castellano,

and that fire at the Starship disco.

Got any proof?

I'm workin' on it. But not if I'm burying my kid.

Location I can't promise, but I'll see what I can do.

You fuck me on this, I'll let the kid rot.

I owe you.

Yeah, you do.

You're too fucking trustin', Jimmy.

Fuck off.

Problem is, you put Sweeney on a pedestal.

We all did, but now we know he don't fuckin' belong there.

What are you, a fuckin' shrink now?

Well, you ain't gotta be a fuckin' shrink, Jimmy.

Any idiot can see that this motherfucker is out for himself.

I just can't believe I couldn't see it before.

But now, we got to accept it.

Look, brother, I get it.

Right, the guy's done a lot for you.

After what happened with your mother, taking you in,

putting a roof over your head, that's not nothing.

And what? I'm not supposed to be fuckin' grateful for that?

Sure.

But understand it for what it is.

He has your loyalty, right?

You would die for that motherfucker. I know you.

You think he'd say the same for you?

He wouldn't, and he never will.

- I can't believe that. - Jimmy,

the guy showed us who he is.

He's a fuckin' criminal, through and through.

He pretends he's some fancy fuckin' do-gooder, you know,

walking around in his suits and bowin' to old ladies,

givin' his speeches about the neighborhood,

telling everybody and their mother,

oh, no, we don't sell narcotics.

No, that's not in our streets, that's a dirty business.

But then what does he do?

He sells our product and uses the money for himself,

it makes me fuckin' sick!

I just can't believe he lied to my fuckin' face.

Right, but he did.

Jimmy, this is the same motherfucker

that killed Davey O'Brien,

and he wanted you to shoot me.

And you know what?

I haven't heard shit about Pat

since he said he was lookin' into it.

I'm just saying,

now we know that this motherfucker

ain't one of us.

So what am I supposed to do?

Hmm?

You know, what if we're wrong?

What if he didn't sell the coke? He just-- He just donated

that money from his-- from his savings.

Right...

and I hear there's a bridge in Brooklyn for sale.

You know, you got a heart of fuckin' gold, Jimmy.

Don't ever lose that. Please.

But don't give it to a motherfucker

who don't deserve it either.

Where're you going?

I'm going to that fuckin' dinner.

And I'm gonna make him tell me the fuckin' truth.

Jacob's Biscuits.

He's in his room.

Hey! Hey!

Take those fuckin' things off.

- What the hell do you want? - What are you doing

hanging around with Sweeney? You shouldn't be doing that.

What, does that make you nervous?

I understand he told you to stay away from him.

You honestly expect me to believe that bullshit

you were spilling the other day?

About how some Puerto Rican guy who killed Pat Murphy?

Oh, he magically gets killed

after you beat the shit out of me!

Oh, what? You think

- Sweeney and I killed Pat? - Who cares?

- I just want my job back! - You're playin' with fire!

I'm tryin' to protect you!

I can take care of myself!

No, you can't! In fact, I know you can't!

Leave me alone, and stay the fuck out of my life!

Yeah, okay.

All right, tough guy.

What's this?

Hmm?

What, are you selling this shit?

Or you just using it?

What the fuck are you doing? That's not mine!

You know what?

One day, you're gonna thank me for this.

Fuck you!

Any chatter?

Not yet.

I want you to meet the others.

Mary!

Now, you've all heard of the girl in the grey coat.

Now you're lookin' at her.

This is Sarah McKenna,

AKA Bridget Walsh.

This is Tadhg McKenna's daughter.

Now, she's currently called Bridget Walsh because of

the Interpol warrant that bears her name

for the bombings of the London Tube.

She's a hero.

This here's Logan, you'll remember him.

He's a history teacher from Boston, long-time sympathizer.

I have family in Belfast.

It's an honor to meet you.

And that's Donal, who you've met.

He's from Derry. He came over with me.

He's an explosive expert, apparently.

Careful there, Donal.

As long as nobody sneezes, I'm all right.

Cheers, Bridget.

That's Mary. She's from Hell's Kitchen.

I've seen you speak at NORAID.

Is she joining us?

To Mary's point...

they've all taken the oath

of loyalty to the Irish Republican Army.

Any objections?

The loyalty oath.

Yeah, I know it well.

Do you have a gun and a Bible handy?

Yeah, we do.

Come on. Let's go.

Move.

Watch your head.

Appreciate it.

Moira, don't worry. It's what's best for the boy.

Guess she's not a fan of yours.

Thank you.

This is very humbling.

Wow, 1980.

Time flies.

Especially you get to be my age.

My father left me two things...

that are very important to me.

His rosary...

and a debt

that I never got to repay...

until tonight.

That debt was not money.

It was the price of keepin' our name outta the gutter

and our heads above the water.

I, Sarah McKenna,

AKA Bridget Walsh,

do solemnly swear

in the presence of Almighty God

and my comrades in arms

to uphold and protect

the Irish Republican Army

with all that I have and all I may ever be.

It's been paid by bricklayers

who drank their pain,

by proud Irish mothers

who scrubbed other people's floors

so their sons wouldn't have to steal.

It's been paid in favors and funerals.

In silence...

and in fists.

In blood we never bragged about.

We built this neighborhood.

And, yeah, we bled for it.

And we buried more than a few good souls

to make sure we hold onto it.

I pledge obedience without question

to follow commands,

to carry out justice,

to keep the secrets of this cause

until my last breath

or until Ireland stands whole.

And we did it with pride

because we belong.

Tonight, we remember who we are.

And who we will never be.

We're not some forgotten little tribe

in a tiny corner of Manhattan.

We Irish are its spine.

I swear to fight, to suffer,

and, if called, to die...

...for the dream of a United Ireland.

Until the tricolor flies in peace

from Belfast to Derry, or I lie beneath it.

So help me God.

When I say thank you tonight,

I'm talking not only about this lovely award.

I'm talking about a legacy.

The kind you don't hang on the wall,

a legacy you carry in your heart.

It's in your bones.

And I promise you right here and now,

long as I'm breathing,

nobody is gonna forget that

we Irish built this neighborhood!

♪ I got one foot ♪

♪ On the platform ♪

♪ And another one ♪

♪ On the train ♪

♪ I'm going home ♪

♪ To New Orleans ♪

♪ To wear ♪

♪ That ball and chain ♪

Looks like the Italians weren't too happy

with you selling that coke.

Yeah.

You wanna get a beer?

♪ And it's been the ruin ♪

♪ Of many a poor boy ♪

♪ And God ♪

♪ I know ♪

♪ I'm one ♪

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