Original subtitles

[tense music]

*

[indistinct chatter]

- They didn't have plain mint, so I got you raspberry mint.

And a mystery meat sandwich. - Yum.

So, did you get Mom and Dad a card yet?

Or do you wanna just sign this one?

- I was gonna get them a card.

- Right. - Gimme that.

Beautiful, huh?

- Huh? - The countryside.

- Oh, uh...

- Just sign the card.

- Excuse me for looking out for my little sister.

- All grown up now, thanks. - You never know,

it could be a serial killer or something.

- Shh. Keep your voice down.

- You know, if you talk low like this,

it's actually harder to hear than a whisper.

- You're making that up.

- Tell that to the Taliban.

[train horn blowing]

Jeez, Cali, you wrote them a novel, here.

- About another hour until we get there.

You'll think of something.

PA announcer: All passengers connecting to bus lines

at Hartford station, please use Platform Two.

[woman laughing]

*

- What are you doing? - I need you to do

exactly as I say.

No time for questions. Just listen.

When I start walking down this car,

I want you to grab that backpack, there.

See it?

- Bryan, what's going on?

- Do you see it? - Yeah.

If the guy in the sport coat tells you it's his,

you argue with him and you keep it going

until I either come back or I shout out your name.

But if I shout your name, you get down as fast as you can

and you crawl into a space between those seats.

- You're really scaring me. - Just do as I say.

Everything's gonna be fine.

*

- Hey, excuse me? - Yeah?

- That belongs to me. - What? No, I-I don't think so.

- Yeah, it does. Please, just give it back.

- No need to talk to me like that.

- Check the name. This is my bag.

What the hell is your problem, miss?

- I don't care what you're saying, this is my bag.

- No, this is mine, all right? - Just let go of the bag.

- No, I'm not gonna let go!

Give me my bag back. - Cali!

- [gasps] - Aah!

[passengers exclaiming]

- What are they doing? - Get down!

[screaming]

[all screaming]

- Get out! Get out!

[woman screaming]

[brakes squealing]

[struggling, grunting]

*

- Oh!

[screaming]

- Okay, listen up, I'm a cop.

No one move, all right? Everyone stay where you are.

- You got cuffs?

[breathing heavily]

Cali.

[dramatic music]

*

[solemn music]

*

[cell phone rings]

- Yep.

No, I'm not near a TV. Just gimme the headlines.

*

[chatter]

All: Bryan! Bryan!

- Bryan, Bryan, can you tell us what happened?

- Channel 7, may I ask you a question?

- This is a very difficult time for my family, as you can see.

[reporters clamoring]

- A little respect for that right now would be

much appreciated. - Bryan, what tipped you off?

*

[lock clicks]

*

- Have you eaten anything, Bry?

I fixed you something.

[crying]

[sobbing]

- What's local law enforcement saying?

- Still waiting for a statement.

- And the surviving gunman?

- Refusing to talk without a lawyer.

- What, no outbursts? No delusional rants?

- Total silence is what we're hearing.

- Okay, now I'm interested.

- Then there's this. Bryan Mills.

Ex-military, Green Beret, three tours in Afghanistan...

- Mm, I'm gonna go out on a limb

and say this isn't Middle East-related.

- Puerto Berrío, Colombia, January 2015.

Mills's last active service posting,

as liaison to Colombian Special Forces

for operation "Snow Joe," to capture Carlos Mejia,

AKA, "El Carnicero." The Butcher. Whatever.

Last seen seven years ago.

- CIA, based on source and asset reports

believes his cartel is now running terrorists and weapons

as well as drugs into the U.S.

- Puerto where? - Berrío.

- Thing is, Mejia wasn't even there.

But his son, Miguel, was.

- Our friend on the train do this?

- Yep, while saving the life of an undercover DEA agent.

Mike Hall.

- If this is Mejia avenging the death of his son,

he's probably not gonna stop until it's done.

- Good.

[dark music]

Good. So, starting right now,

we control the story.

Write state and local law enforcement, FBI, CIA.

I want everyone on the same sheet of music.

This was two delusional maniacs, investigation ongoing.

Okay? You guys know the rest.

You call the National Security Advisor, tell him I'm on my way.

*

[door buzzes]

[gate closes, locks]

- Who are you?

Okay. Good.

- Unlock him, please.

[handcuffs rattling]

[gate buzzes, opens, closes]

- My associate, Becca.

- What did you tell the police?

- Nothing.

- We have to ask. - And now you know.

- And tomorrow? - What about it?

- And the next day? And the next day?

And...

I don't buy it.

- Excuse me?

- What she's saying is, she doesn't believe

it's possible for you to say nothing forever.

State police are one thing.

But the type of people we believe are gonna be

coming at you next?

I have to agree.

Not sure I buy it either.

[door closing]

*

- What the hell is this?

- What were you expecting?

They'd send someone to spring you?

Really?

- Oh! Oh! [struggling]

- Our client has instructed us to tell you that your family

will be generously compensated for your sacrifice.

- No! It's... aah...

This wasn't the deal!

The hit was... - Was what?

- It was a good hit. - How do you figure that?

- We got her, didn't we? - What about him?

- No, no. We were told to leave him for...

*

Ohh, oh.

[coughing]

- Didn't she just tell you it'd be impossible

for you to say nothing forever?

- Are you cops?

- Please.

- In case you hadn't figured it out already,

your life is in our hands now.

So if I were you, I'd start trying to live in the moment.

*

[birds calling]

- Who's that woman sitting next to Henry Masters?

- I don't know. - We'll begin

by standing for "Eternal Father,"

which you will find on page 352 of your hymnal.

[organ music playing]

*

All: * Eternal Father, strong to save *

* Whose arms restrains the restless wave *

* Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep *

* Its own appointed bounds to keep *

* We cry, oh God of majesty *

* For those in peril on the sea *

- Cali was my best friend.

My roommate.

My inspiration.

If ever someone was put on this planet

for the sole purpose of caring for others,

it was Cali Mills.

- We got us some tourists in town.

- Where? - A block from the house.

Black panel van. - How many?

- Couldn't see. Tinted windows.

- Okay.

[indistinct chatter]

Both: Hi.

- Asha. - Right.

Sorry, um...

- I-I just wanted to tell you

that Cali never stopped talking about you.

- Oh. - Her war hero brother.

- She probably made a lot more of that than it actually was.

- I doubt that.

- You realize what you said in that service there

makes you family now.

- It was okay. - You kidding?

- I don't know how to thank you, dear.

- Please, no. It was my honor.

- Hey, Mom, whose van is that out there?

- I don't know. I've never seen it before.

Why? - Excuse me.

[suspenseful music]

*

Hey!

[tires screeching]

*

Looking for me?

Here I am!

[grunts]

*

- Anything you wanna tell me?

- This is my fault.

Cali's dead because of me.

- Your fault how? - They weren't random psychos

on that train, Dad.

They were professionals. Hired killers.

- What, so cops? FBI? They're all wrong?

- They're hiding the truth. - Why would they lie?

- I don't know, Dad.

All I do know is I'm not gonna risk you and Mom

getting caught up in this, too.

- Let's just take a breath here, okay?

- Talk to Joe Roberts. Have him post a police detail

outside this house, front and back 24 hours a day.

- And tell him what? - Tell him what I just told you.

Tell him to keep it to himself

and make something up.

I need a couple of days, at least.

- Where you going?

- [sighs] This is for you and Mom.

I didn't know when would be a good time to give it to you.

But now... [sighs]

Tell Mom bye. Tell her I'm sorry.

And I'm gonna... - You're gonna what?

[solemn music]

*

Your mother can't lose you too, son.

*

- I understand that, Dad.

*

[tense music]

- Phone tracker's active. On the move.

- Devil's advocate. - Make it quick.

- Why can't we tell him what we're doing?

- Operational security.

We don't know anything about him.

- We know a little. - Not enough.

- Don't we have a moral duty?

- Okay, now you're boring me.

- Moral duty to what? - To tell him

we're using him as bait to flush out El Carnicero?

- This is Mills' life we're playing with.

Knowing what we now know from the surviving gunmen?

- Which is? - I already covered that.

- One more time. Just for me.

*

- Carlos Mejia contracted a hit on Bryan Mills' sister,

so Mills could feel the same pain.

Mejia felt after his son was killed.

Now he's hired mercenaries to bring Mills to him alive.

*

- See what you did there?

You left out the most important part.

- Using Mills gives us our best opportunity in ten years

to take Mejia alive.

- Our only opportunity.

And if he's working with terrorists now,

the only moral duty we have is to find out who they are,

where they are, and stop them.

[military radio chatter]

- [screaming] - Let him go!

You cannot win this!

*

- [grunting]

- Confirmation. We got him.

*

*

- He's home.

*

[children playing outside]

[chatter]

*

- [sighs]

Excuse me for looking out for my little sister.

- All grown up now, thanks.

*

[chatter]

- Mama, this is Papa. Comm check.

- Got you. Strength ten, Papa.

- Landing now. Wait out.

- Roger. Standing by.

*

[vehicle approaching]

*

[chips crunching]

*

- [sighs]

*

- Same van did a drive-by eight minutes ago.

We got us two tourists.

Man and a woman.

- Stand by.

Looks like we have a ballgame.

*

- Weapon. [cocks gun]

- Weapons. Two.

Plus silencers. I'm thinking Heckler & Koch.

*

It's Koch with a K.

- Papa, this is Mama. Hold position, do not engage.

Say again. Do not engage.

*

[doorbell dings]

*

*

- He just took two down.

*

- [grunts]

- [grunts]

[silenced gunshot]

*

- [grunts]

*

[breathing weakly] - Who are you?

Who sent you?

- [exhales weakly]

[engine starts] - Come on.

- Tourists heading home.

Moving in.

*

[grunts]

- Mills is in the house, moving around back.

Wait out.

*

- I'll tell you this: Dude's got some skills.

[engine starts]

[suspenseful music]

*

[tires screeching]

*

- [labored breathing]

[breathing rapidly]

[tense music]

*

[water running]

*

[water stops]

- Let him go! - Aah!

[indistinct yelling]

- I got you, Mike.

I got you.

[Earth, Wind & Fire's "September" playing]

*

- [laughs] - [grunts]

- Daddy, you're sweating like a pig.

- Oh.

- Someone's calling you.

- Oh. [phone buzzing]

Oh, there is a God after all.

*

Sorry, sweetheart. It's work.

*

[sighs] Bry?

- Where are you right now?

- I'm at home. Why?

- Lianne with you?

- Yeah, it's my weekend. Why?

- [sighs] You need to get out of there... both of you.

Right now.

- DEA agent Mike Hall.

- You there? - Yeah.

- They're coming at me. It's only a matter of time

before they come for you, too,

if they're not already. - Whoa... who's...

Who's coming at you?

- Who do you think?

- So the shooters on the train, they were...

- Exactly.

And they just tried again. This time at my house.

- You hurt? - I got one in the leg.

I'll be okay.

Went straight through.

- Where are you? - Some hotel in Jersey.

- I'm coming to get you.

- No, just get Lianne to safety.

- I can make a call. Send a team.

- No team. This is on me. - That's insane.

- Just tell me you're putting your daughter

in a car right now.

- Okay, fine. - No buts. Go.

Bye.

*

[sighing]

[phone buzzing]

- He's getting a call.

- Not according to this, he's not.

- I can hear it vibrating.

- It's not his phone. Must be another one.

[ominous music]

*

[phone buzzes]

[phone ringing]

- That's his phone.

Incoming call. 703 area code.

- You and Lianne on the road yet?

- You know I can't just leave you hanging out there.

- I told you, don't worry about me.

- It's not happening, buddy.

No can do.

Four years undercover with these bastards.

I know how they think.

- All right.

Motel Biscayne, Route 202, Junction 7.

- Okay. Give me five hours.

I'll call you when I'm 30 minutes out.

*

[phone buzzes]

*

- We think out loud here.

You're not at Langley anymore.

- Mills just told him his daughter's life is in danger

and he's more worried about Mills than he is about her?

*

[engine starts]

- Stand by.

He's on the move again.

[engine starts]

*

[phone buzzing]

*

- [sighs]

[car alarm chirps]

Aah! Bryan...

- "K"?

How long have you been their bitch?

- I don't expect you to understand.

- Or had you already switched sides

back when you were undercover?

Understand? Is that what you just said?

- Look, I'm sorry about your sister.

But they threatened to kill my daughter!

My daughter, Bryan! Lianne!

[grunts]

You really want to know when my cover was blown?

When you and the Colombians screwed the pooch on that raid.

- Where is he?

- Are you serious? Mejia?

You honestly think I know where Carlos Mejia is?

- I think you can do better than that.

- My only contact with the cartel is a lawyer.

- Where? - New York.

- New York it is, then.

[engine starts]

Who's that?

- You didn't think they'd be all over my ass, too?

Who do you think you're dealing with here, Bryan?

[engine starts]

The exit is that way.

[tires screech]

[suspenseful music]

*

[tires screeching]

*

[gun clicks]

[tires screeching]

*

[gunshot]

*

We're not getting out of here alive.

You know that, right? - I need your tie.

- What? - Your tie.

[handcuffs ratcheting, door closes]

*

[suspenseful music]

- How long do you think you can keep running, Bryan?

A day? Two? A week?

*

One man against the resources of an entire cartel?

*

[tires screeching]

*

- [grunting]

[cars honking]

*

[indistinct chatter]

- Interesting. - What?

- They're not shooting.

*

[police radio chatter]

*

- Hey, hey! Where are you going?

You can't go down there!

- [grunting]

*

[train rumbling]

*

- You never met my sister, did you?

She was something, let me tell you.

*

Beautiful.

Kind.

Smart.

*

- I pray you never have to make

the kind of choice I had to make.

And I mean that, Bry.

*

My advice? Don't ever have kids.

*

Especially not a daughter.

*

[train brakes squealing]

*

- [sighs]

[muttering]

Mind the third rail.

I don't wanna hear it.

I just want you gone.

[dramatic music]

*

*

Right here.

Pretty sure you've been told, on pain of death,

to take me alive.

Or I'd be dead by now.

I'm not spending the rest of my life

running from you people.

Throwing down my weapon now.

[gun clatters]

*

[suspenseful music]

*

[grunts]

*

- Not good.

- You mean the phone?

*

- Bad news. - Do I know you?

- They took your daughter. - The cartel.

- How do you know? - You really wanna stand here,

wasting time, talking about everything we know?

- Get your phone out, numb nuts.

- Your phone. Get it out now.

- That was her school calling you.

Seven times.

- Patch in echelon. Action NSA and FBI.

Langley, info only.

- Done, done, and almost done.

- Okay. Make the call.

- This is your one shot to get her back.

Do you understand?

- Yeah.

[phone line trilling]

- Here we go.

- Agent Hall. To what do I owe the pleasure?

- They took my daughter. - Excuse me?

- You heard.

I did everything that was asked of me.

- Hold on, hold on. This is not a secure line.

- You're gonna call your client and get my daughter back.

Right now.

Or I hand myself in and you're in a Rikers jumpsuit

by tonight.

*

- Now what? - We're the ones

who took your daughter.

She's fine. - You, on the other hand,

we can stick a fork in.

*

[door opens]

[cell phone ringing]

- Yeah. - I need to talk to my client.

- He's not here yet.

- What's his ETA? - Imminent.

- Meaning? - Soon.

- Thank you, I meant... - He's in the air.

- Okay. - Don't hang up.

Just a couple of more seconds. - Are you in radio contact?

- Strict radio silence.

He contacts me first. Why?

There a problem?

- Potentially.

- That affects his visit?

- Will you break radio silence if I say yes?

- No, I just wouldn't turn on the lights on the runway.

Is that what you're saying I should do?

- Got it.

- Just have him call me when he lands.

- Eyes and ears on the lawyer. Reroute all calls.

[tense music]

*

*

*

- You killed my son.

- And you killed my sister.

- Yes.

*

[gunshot]

Yes, I did.

- Give me the 22 blade.

[dark music]

*

- Your son died

holding a gun to the head of a DEA agent.

My sister died defenseless.

And innocent.

So what kind of a man, I wonder,

does that make you?

*

[grunts]

It's just as I figured.

But I had to see it for myself.

The eyes of a coward.

[helicopter whirring]

[suspenseful music]

*

- Take him down, now.

*

[radio chatter]

- [grunts]

*

- Hurry up!

- [grunts]

[gunfire]

*

- [grunting]

- Back off!

Back off.

Back off or he dies.

- I'm already dead. Take him down.

- They can't.

Can you?

I'm no use to them dead.

- Do it now! - Let him go!

- He killed my son!

[bone cracking]

[grunts]

- For my sister.

[grunts]

- Ahh!

- Mama, this is Papa. Target secured.

Alive and kicking. Over.

- Mama roger. What about Mills?

[echoing] Over.

[heart monitor beeping]

- Those are ice chips in that blue cup.

- You were at my sister's funeral.

- Yes, I was.

- Who are you?

- The man who shot you works for me.

- Where am I?

- Buffalo Presbyterian. Trauma wing.

Do you understand why you were shot?

- He killed my sister.

- My name is Christina Hart.

I'm a deputy director with special portfolio,

at the office of the Director of National Intelligence.

- You used me.

- I report to the Director of National Intelligence,

the National Security Council, and the President.

- And now you're gonna tell me none of this ever happened.

- My portfolio is an Emergency Covert Action Team.

- Who shot me?

- Who saved your life?

Tell me what you believe in, Bryan.

Because what I see is a man who is wired

to protect others.

It's how you're built, it's who you are.

It's why you tackled those gunmen on the train

in the first place... to protect those 93 other passengers

in that car.

- I just did what I did.

- But when you failed to protect your own sister...

- Who the hell are you to...

- Tell me that's not how you felt.

- It's how I still feel.

- Listen, taking Carlos Mejia alive

is vital to national security.

But acting on the intelligence that he will share with us,

make no mistake, is where we're really

gonna earn our money.

- You're recruiting me.

[chuckles softly]

And if I say no?

- Then, yeah, you're right.

None of this ever happened.

[tense music]

*

And Cali died for nothing.

*

[door closes]

*