Original subtitles

True_Detective_2014 - S01 - E04 - Who_Goes_There Re-Sync & Edit Tharindu_Lakmal_Jeewantha

CHARLIE: What you doing?

HART: You fucked with us, Charlie.

[Knocks on door] I did not, sir.

Reggie Ledoux.

Hey, I don't even want to know that freak, man.

Y'all ain't asked nothin' about Reggie.

Fuck, man, my-- my wife just died--

Ex-wife!

You had Reggie Ledoux take her out,

didn't you?

No. Hmm?

What are you talking about, man? Hmm?

Reggie? Put her out there with them antlers on? I--

You have Reggie do it?

What are you talking about? Hmm?

Reggie Ledoux did this?

Reggie Ledoux?

Reggie motherfuckin' Ledoux did this?!

Fuck, man! Shit! Let me out, man!

Let me out! Fuck, man!

Hey, Charlie?

We're not gonna give you the Oscar no matter how hard you try.

Oh, fuck you, man. You don't know me.

You don't know what I been through.

And what are you talking about? You talk to me!

Ledoux knew about her, right?

You talk about her to him?

Yeah, man--yeah, the way you do sharing a house.

Yeah, you talk pussy, talk scores.

That's what you do.

Showed him pictures of her, hmm?

Yeah, I guess so, yeah.

I had some she give me when I first went down,

stuff for me to look at.

You know, like Polaroids.

He was a big guy--

a lot bigger than you.

Do you tell me you didn't get along?

Nah, I mean, I did, most part.

You've got to, you're sharing a house,

like I'm saying.

I mean, he gets you high, man, but he's creep. I ain't want to know him.

Tell me about Ledoux.

How is he creep?

He's a cook, you know, like a chemist?

He used to, uh, make shit out of kitchen stuff--

cook down cleansers and whatnot.

Used tater skins and fry grease to make high-test sour mash.

He got mad knowledge for that shit, but, like, I don't know, man,

he talk like a short-eyes, like something.

How you mean? He wouldn't talk that shit up in here.

No, man, he didn't. Like, me and him at night,

blasted up on one of his mixes.

I mean, he could brew some shit up

put you up out your head, man.

That's a big deal in here.

I mean, fuck, man, it's a big deal out there, too.

So, uh, what kind of shit was he talking?

He said that there's this place down south

where all these rich men go to, uh, devil-worship.

He said that, uh...

they--they sacrifice kids and whatnot.

Women and children all got--

all got murdered there, and, um,

something about someplace called Carcosa

and the Yellow King.

He said there's all these, like, old stones out in the woods,

people go to, like, worship.

He said, uh...

He said there's just so much good killin' down there.

Reggie got this brand on his back,

like in a spiral?

He says that's their sign.

What the fuck ever, you understand?

I don't listen to the man, but he's big,

so I don't tell him to shut the fuck up, neither!

You remember any buddies he ever talked about?

So we checked the records here,

and he hadn't ever had any visitors.

We both know Tyro Weems.

Tyrone like to tell you where he's at.

Look, man, Reggie's crazy, like, for real.

Had to be tough,

living with somebody spouting insane shit

in your ear all day long.

You gonna give me something for what I told you just now?

Parole board nod.

Fair's fair.

Hey. Hey!

You think 'cause I talked to him about Dori that...

I might have got her killed?

You probably had something to do with it.

I don't think you should have shown him those pictures.

Do you?

[Door clangs]

COHLE: We need to find this Tyrone Weems,

see what he knows about Ledoux.

HART: Yeah.

Ahem.

You didn't have to tell him it was his fault.

Guy was already low.

Yeah, he asked about his end first.

Parole board.

So?

So fuck him.

♪

You're funny, Marty--

the shit you get soft about.

HART, VOICE-OVER: I wanted every member of that family that I could find.

Turns out...

there weren't any.

You know how weird that is in Louisiana?

A cousin, what was it, Dewall, was

not on paper except for a, uh, trucker's license.

Ledoux had turned into a ghost

from the time he skipped parole check.

Tell me, young studs,

what would you do when you hit a wall like that?

Responding to the complaint, I approached the house.

Seeing that the screen door was broken and the inner door...

ajar, I--I felt that entrance

complied with standard procedure.

Upon entering the domicile, I noticed

what appeared to be marijuana and a white powder

on the coffee table.

Hey, Martin.

We don't have to talk, Lisa.

The hell we don't.

You don't get to do what you did to me last week.

Look, I'm sorry. I was hurt and real drunk.

Talk to me now.

OK. Ah, I wish you a great life

and good luck with your new friend.

You philandering fucking asshole.

Hey, look.

There is no pageant to perform, OK, and

your disappointment is irrelevant.

You don't get to act like that, Marty,

or like this.

The fact is it's nice to know you got him,

and I don't want to have this conversation with you.

You need to respect me, Marty.

This is respect.

Rust figured a connection with an earlier death, suspicious--

Rianne Olivier.

Led us to the DB's old boyfriend, Reginald Ledoux, 35.

Statch rape charge against a 12-year-old,

acquitted for lack of testimony.

Did a bit for manufacturing meth and LSD,

which fits the tox screen for Lange.

COHLE: His old cellmate was Lange's ex-husband.

He showed him some cheesecake pictures of her.

Uh, from what we know about him,

the way he talked,

he sounds like he's real good for it.

No line on any of his people.

Swamp folk, dug in off the grid.

HART: We are tracking a KA, Tyrone Weems.

He's in the sheets that we passed out.

Any questions?

I didn't think so. Let's get to work.

♪

HART: Are you Theresa Weems,

Tyrone Weems' mom?

Tyrone ain't been around in a while.

You know, a few months.

We got in a fight 'cause he sold my microwave.

And what about his friends?

You know where they hang out?

I don't know, he dated this girl Kelsey

for a little while.

HART: Kelsey, when's the last time you saw Tyrone?

Months. We've been broke up.

I don't ever hear from him. I don't want to.

I heard he got Shawnda Miller pregnant.

So do you have his address, phone number?

Look. I really wish I could help you, but I can't.

I have to get back to work.

♪

[Women chattering]

Hey.

You know that gal back there?

She got a man, manager?

Hey, do I got to pull my badge?

Hey, we run clean here.

How you gonna run when you're shut down

6 months for a grand jury inquiry?

Why are you making me say this shit, man?

Do you know her old man?

Yeah, he came around, collecting from her.

Boss kicked him out for trying to sell christie, the girls.

That was about a month ago.

Look familiar?

Yeah, that's him. He ever pick her up?

Yeah.

HART, VOICE-OVER: Went to work on Tyro Weems, known associates, family.

Had a little leeway with Quesada

now that we had our suspect.

[Door opens]

♪

Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck! Goddamn it!

Lisa? LISA: How does it feel?

I told you you can't treat people like this.

Listen, I just need to know

exactly what you told her.

You think it's OK what you do?

All of you think it's OK to treat your wives

the way you do, to treat women the way--

fucking liars and bullies, and this is what you get!

This is what you get!

I have children.

You blew up my life,

you fucking whore!

What did you just call me?!

What did you just call me, you fucking wet-noodle, whiskey-dick faggot fuck?!

I will skull-fuck you, you bitch!

♪

HART, VOICE-OVER: Hello, Jake?

Jake, is this you? Marty?

Is Maggie there? That's none of your goddamn business.

Jake, I know she's there,

I know she's there, so just put her

on the phone, would you, please?

Leave her alone, you fuckin' asshole.

Jake, I-- You're not hearing me.

I don't know what she told you. Leave her alone.

And I know we haven't always seen eye to eye--

You're goddamn right, we haven't seen eye to eye. Just please,

put her on the phone for me. Just please-- No, no.

You are no damn good, Marty,

she deserves better, and don't call here again.

Jake. [Click]

HART, VOICE-OVER: How many exes you guys have?

I mean, that's what I'm talking about.

Did I make some mistakes?

Yes.

You know the detective's curse?

Solution was right under my nose, but I was paying attention to the wrong clues?

[Distant chatter]

♪

[Men laugh]

See you later. Bye, hon.

[Engine turns over]

♪

[Hart shouts]

[Coughs] Fuck.

Reggie Ledoux. Where is he? Now.

That's what this is about? Yo, man, why didn't you say so?

Where the fuck is he?

I--I heard he still cook.

I heard he stopped selling after he did his bit,

that he only cook for one client now.

Who?

Some bike gang.

They buy all his product. Bulk order, no mess.

I heard this at the clubs is all.

Reggie don't distribute no more.

Which bike club?

Iron Heroes or some shit.

[Cocks gun]

Iron--Iron Crusaders.

I don't keep up with them gearheads.

Iron Crusaders? You sure?

Yup. Them ones.

What I heard, Reggie cook their loads and that's all.

Close your eyes and count to a hundred,

if you can.

Go.

1...2...

Louder. 3!

4...5...

HART, ON PHONE: Listen I--I talked to Weems and, uh,

the dude is cooking for some motorcycle gang out of Texas.

Iron Crusaders.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, but--Iron--Iron Crusaders?

You're sure he said Iron Crusaders?

I'm sure he said Iron Crusaders.

So we'll, uh,

we'll chase that tomorrow, yeah?

What are you doing right now? Right now I'm busy.

[Checks coin return]

COHLE, VOICE-OVER: And, as I recall, I...

I had to take some personal time,

see my dad.

I mean, this is like, what, 17 years ago?

[Scoffs]

I mean, you'll have to understand

if my memory hasn't sharpened in the interim.

[Chuckles]

Ahem.

[Sniffs]

Fran, stay by the phone.

I will.

Maggie, can I talk to you for just a second?

No. I'm working graveyard. Girls are with my mom and dad. It's all in the note, Marty.

OK, will you give me a chance to--

She came to my home.

Our daughters saw her. You lying fuck.

You stupid, lying fuck.

Jesus Christ. Listen to me, Mags.

I meant everything I said the other night, every word.

I--I stopped. Oh, my God.

You think your betrayal's removed by its interruption?

She was disgusting. You're disgusting.

You can't fix this. Listen to me. God, listen--

Get your hands off me. OK.

I--I've been-- I've been a mess.

Rattled. My...

Just... my dad dying--

Oh, my God. That was a year ago. And drinking and--

I don't give a shit about your goddamn feelings.

You need to get out of our lives, Marty, me and the girls'.

Read the note. It's all there and you can't come home. You don't mean that.

Yes. Yes, I do. You don't mean that.

Listen, I...

You are not gonna break up my fuckin' family, OK?

Get out of here right now! No.

Excuse me. You all right, Maggie?

Sir, I suggest you leave.

Everything's fine, Doc. I'm State Police.

I appreciate that, but are you here in that capacity now,

as--as law enforcement?

♪

[Seal cracks]

[Sniffs]

[Telephone ringing]

MAN: You don't want to do this.

HART: Get your hands off me, goddamn it,

and call your commanding officer.

You're making a scene, Marty! No!

There is no scene, unless Mall Patrol here makes one.

I am calmly discussing a private matter

with my wife! [All talk at once]

Private in a pretty public way, man. Easy, easy.

This is none of your fuckin' business. No, no.

It's none of my business, but we got to work.

[WHISPERING] You hear me, Marty?

I got a line on Ledoux.

I got it right fuckin' now.

I need you to come in, leave this shit till later.

[Sighs]

I love you, honey,

and I ain't givin' up.

Come on.

COHLE: We can get to Ledoux. Marty, it's gonna be dirty.

HART: I just need her to give me another shot.

If I could just get another shot--

Listen, can I tell you something?

Yeah.

This is none of my business.

I don't want to hear it.

All right. I'm sorry.

♪

You total shit.

You know, this is part on you, you know?

You can't just slide into my life,

creating tensions, judging me--

What, I make you tap some bimbo, looks like a young Maggie?

I make you flaunt that shit?

Fuck, that night at the Longhorn,

you were so obvious, man, checking her out,

and she looked crazy enough to have followed you there.

With all the dick swagger you roll, you can't spot crazy pussy?

I fucked up.

I just...

[Sighs]

I like something wild. I always did.

I just... it feels like it--

it smoothes out the other parts of my life most of--

Listen, Marty, one more time. It's none of my fuckin' business.

Ah, fuck.

Look, we got a job to do.

Off-book. That's the only play I can think of.

I--I got to straighten out things with the family. I got to fix it.

That bike club. I know 'em.

I had deals with 'em when I was working narco.

We can get to that motherfucker Ledoux.

So, enough with this self-improvement,

penance, hand-wringing shit.

Let's go to work.

Do you think you're...

[Sighs]

Fuck!

Hell of a bedside manner you got, Rust.

Ah, you know being stupid's different than callin' in sick,

and this is a bar, not a fuckin' bedside.

Friend in need.

Every time I think you hit a ceiling,

you just keep raising the bar.

You are like the Michael Jordan of being a son of a bitch.

Let's go. Come on. Really gonna love this jacket I got.

[Pats back twice]

[Sniffs]

Holy shit.

You visit a lot of gun shows?

Ah, it's just some stuff I kept in case some work came back on me.

These boys Ledoux deals to,

they're out of east Texas.

I worked 'em when I was DEA task force.

They know you're 5-0?

No.

I wasn't sure,

so I checked with my old handler.

As far as my cover goes,

I took 3 slugs in a DEA shootout

in Port Houston.

Anybody that gives a shit figures I'm dead.

Major said

the task force used to call you Crash.

I'm gonna have to take some personal time

on this, Marty, a couple of weeks.

Got to get out there and get seen, drop some lines.

I mean, badges ain't gonna get us near these people,

so the plan is we make 'em an offer...

we get a line on their supplier,

confirm it's Ledoux,

bring him in.

And then, once we're out there,

all right, it's just you and me on this.

[Sighs] I don't like that.

What happens, they clock you're not you?

Mmm.

No, I can't do what I need to do if we got watchdogs.

Besides, like you said, Quesada'd pull me.

The stakes ain't that high anyway.

I get found, I take a bullet to the head.

This cartel I worked on the border,

they, uh, they had this routine.

They'd duct-tape you to a chair that was bolted to the floor,

use a couple rolls,

make sure you couldn't budge a fuckin' inch.

And they'd cut around your face,

grip your scalp, yank down,

rip your face off.

Hmm.

And they'd put a mirror in front of you

so you could get a good look at yourself.

And they'd cut your dick and your balls off...

shove 'em down your throat

until you bled and choked out,

while you were watching.

So...

as far as high stakes go,

bullet to the head?

It ain't that.

Hey.

[Sniffs]

You sure you want to do this?

[Magazine clicks] Not exactly.

[Click]

♪

[Sighs]

HART: Realize you got a upstairs here, right?

What is that?

Ink and cayenne.

Irritates the skin, looks contused.

How long they have you out there, working the corridor?

Almost 4 years.

4? What the hell?

UCs ain't supposed to do more than 11 months.

Yeah, but I--I'd fucked up on the job,

and to make it better, they went with me.

That's a long time, being like that.

I need a good story to move fast, and I think I got one.

All we need now is some good coke.

Where you gonna get that?

Don't worry about it.

PAPANIA: So you got a suspect,

and you take a leave of absence?

COHLE: Yup.

Like I said, to see my pops.

Had leukemia.

♪

Favre. Ahem. I get the evidence key from you?

Yeah. Heard you were taking time.

Thank you. Leaving tonight.

Sign the log. Yep.

♪

You supposed to see both eyes in this one?

♪

[Snorts]

[Coughs]

They really should have a better system for this.

GILBOUGH: We looked at your old partner's history.

PAPANIA: And coincidences keep mounting, Detective.

Oh, coincidences like what?

Well, I don't know if it would qualify as coincidence, but,

near as we could tell, his pops never had leukemia.

No hospital records of that. Fact, nobody in that town in Alaska's

seen Travis Cohle in more than 30 years.

That it?

PAPANIA: You still angry at him, your pops?

No.

He's dead.

You were, though.

I mean, why you two didn't talk.

We never really liked each other.

There's a difference.

He was in 'Nam.

Met my mother on leave in Galveston.

Time he came back, I was two.

She dumped me on him,

then she hauled ass, and he and I moved to Alaska.

He was a survivalist, I guess you'd call it.

Had some very fucking strange ideas.

Oh, there's nothing like the night sky out there, though.

But I couldn't handle the cold, so...

I headed back to south Texas 'cause all I could remember

was at least it never got cold.

My old man always made like I let him down that way.

Said I had no loyalty.

♪

A clean break is best now, while they're still young.

Look, that's none of my business.

I mean, but I do need him to watch my back on this.

This is how you all get warped.

You always short-change the wrong things.

Short-change?

Mm-hmm.

What else?

He wanted me to pass a tide of apologies

of which I'll skip...

and he wants to see the girls,

if you can make time for it.

Kids are the only thing that matter, Maggie.

They're the only reason for this whole man-woman drama.

I'm sorry.

What are you suggesting, exactly?

Just that people fuck up.

We age.

Men, women--it's not supposed to work

except to make kids.

So, if you can imagine

Marty's behavior as an expression

of weakness, pain,

you'd see that it's not about you.

So, end of the day, you duck under rationalization,

same as any of them.

You must have been a great husband.

[Door opens]

[Door closes]

[Sniffs]

People have been seeing me around for about a week.

Guy I used to run with, he wants to meet me tonight.

Now, if I can get him alone, we snatch him up,

work him over, maybe get to Ledoux.

HART: OK.

All right? Great.

Listen--

Phone's fully charged. And remember, it's real simple.

Green--answers, red--hangs up.

All right. I'm the only one that's gonna be calling.

Yeah. And keep it charged.

Listen, uh, how was she?

What'd she say?

[Sighs]

She was better. I could see her softening.

[Sniffs] She didn't use the "D" word.

My odds, I could see you two back together within a couple months.

That your honest read?

That's my honest read, Marty.

[Pats arm]

♪

[Overlapping chatter]

[Motorcycles revving]

COHLE, VOICE-OVER: Look, I don't know

how this guy I'm meeting tonight feels about me.

OK? What does that mean?

It means, if you lose track of me tonight, keep this fucker handy

and be listening to Beaumont police channels.

Yeah. You got it?

Yeah.

You got it? [Pats arm]

I got it. Are you gonna be all right?

[Smacks Hart's arm] Yeah.

♪

[Overlapping chatter]

Crash, here for Ginger.

Well, after Houston,

I got to a doc in Eagle Pass,

then a coyote got me across the border.

Past two years, I been working security

for a group in San Miguel.

[Distant bottle shatters]

Feds never ID'd me, you know, so I figured,

hell, two years pass, things chill down,

it's cool for me to come back, stick my head up.

That'll be tough, man...

thinkin' you been dead this whole time.

I look dead, motherfucker?

[Scoffs]

I'm lookin' to get with you.

You or Miles.

Miles ain't gonna want to see you, Crash.

MAN: Oh, I think he might. Well, yeah.

Then I'd say

I don't think you want to see Miles.

Man, I ain't here to start a thing, all right?

Boys I been running with in Mexico,

there could be a hell of a deal for both sides,

fuckin' money to be made.

Real money.

What kind of money?

[Motorcycles revving]

[Distant chatter]

♪

Goddamn Rust.

What the fuck?

[Women giggle]

My boys are looking to trade, all right?

Coke for meth.

What you got there? Ahem.

This one's just for you. Just for me?

Uh-huh. [Inhales sharply]

What'd you cut it with?

Oh, you'll see.

You'll dig it.

After all I meant to you, huh?

Now, who exactly are these guys?

Uh, they, uh...

ex-Mex Army.

They got a Colombian connection.

They need meth for the maquiladoras.

Yeah, they could cook it themselves,

but then the cartels would take notice,

and that ain't what they're lookin' for.

Hmm.

Here.

Taste that, homie.

That ain't no fuck-around shit.

Goddamn.

[Sighs]

Whew.

You keep it.

I've got bulldozers' worth of that shit where I came from.

The thing is...

we got one cook.

Does all our work, exclusive-like.

He's real specific about that.

Now, what's this worth to you, Crash, me selling Miles on this?

Well, I'd go you one better, brother.

We don't take that shit to Miles at all.

You and me work the supplier,

the cut's whatever the fuck we want it to be.

Now, now, that's tricky shit, bro,

and I don't know you like I used to.

Yeah, I don't know you like I used to, either.

That's why the fuck I'm here.

Well, let me tell you why I came, Crash.

I need something from you, tonight.

I had a 4-man team for a big grab,

lost one to smokies.

I came looking to replace him,

if you're still a bad-ass.

I don't do A&R, man, no fuckin' bank jobs.

It ain't nothin' like that.

I need a good soldier.

Now, you do this with us,

we talk about puttin' you with my man.

Look. [Sighs]

I don't ride cowboy no more, Ginger.

Oh. I don't do this small-time shit

like this thing you're talking about, all right?

[Grunts]

What, you get neutered down south, huh?

I embrace the outlaw life.

Now, you dress the part still.

That just an act?

When in Rome, brother,

but I do clean up real fuckin' pretty.

[Chuckles]

Motherfucker, I need a gunslinger.

Now, you ain't too timid, get on this shit with me.

Then we can talk about doin' business.

Where?

My place.

Down the bayou.

All right. I got my truck.

GINGER: It'll be safe here.

[4 thumps on door]

Members only.

I'm just lookin' for a friend.

[Bikers clamoring]

♪

Hey. What the fuck?

Look, look, look, my buddy's not here.

You ain't listening! I'm his sponsor, and

I'm worried that he might have started drinking again.

You better worry that we don't pull your head off

and shit down your neck!

He's been 20 years sober.

Just give me one second.

What the hell!

I'm leaving, sir. A guy can just come in here and say,

"Lookin' for a fuckin' friend"?! [Bottle shatters]

MAN: Ought to worry more about your balls, faggot!

Get the fuck outta here!

I'm leaving.

Jesus Christ.

Run, motherfucker!

That's good.

[Muffled pounding on door]

[Pounding on door] MAN: Son of a bitch, man!

Fuck is that? That there?

That's Tigger the nigger. GINGER: Name's Tiger Thomas.

Dealer in them Hoston Projects. You know them?

COHLE: That's like them bungalowed, flat-like joints, right?

Yeah.

They keep a stash house there.

[Pounds on door] TIGER: I'll get you, you fucking dicks!

Hey, why don't you shut the fuck up, nigger?

TIGER: Fuck you!

COHLE: So you all gonna take a stash house

in coon country, huh, 4 guys?

Well, how big's the projects, man, like square block-wise?

[Pounding continues]

[Cohle snorts]

Get the gear, mates.

Wait till you see this. You're gonna love it.

[Tiger shouting]

[Sniffs]

Oh, you're going in as cops, huh?

Uh-huh. Yeah.

You know where the stash house is?

Tiger's gonna take us there.

Well, you got an exit plan?

Hmm?

COHLE: Timetable?

The real cops come, then what, huh?

I mean, you say you're going in the one fuckin' car?

Uh-huh.

Far as I remember, man,

the place is blocked in.

That is one way in, one way out.

It could be fuckin' Mogadishu, man.

MAN: We hit trouble,

you're just gonna fuck it in the ass.

[Chuckles]

You scoop out the soft brains

inside the skull.

[All chuckle]

Well, so you have thought it out.

My bad.

COHLE: I come through for you on this tonight,

I got to know you're gonna hook me up,

'cause I got a real job I was supposed to be doing.

Hmm?

You got my word. You back me on this, I'll back you.

[Sniffs]

Fuck it. Let's go.

Up and at 'em, eggplant.

TIGER: Motherfuckers.

Fuck you! Come on.

[Tiger shouting]

Y'all are dead! Y'all are dead!

[Police radio chatter]

FEMALE DISPATCHER: 406 reported on Fullington Street...

[Radio chatter continues]

MAN ON RADIO: Air 3, Dispatch.

DISPATCHER: Go ahead, Air 3.

Over Zone 6, Hoston Projects.

Pretty quiet, possible 507s.

Everything's Code 4.

Copy that. 10-4, Air 3.

COHLE: Man, you got two ways of lookin' at it, Tiger.

You can die and lose your shit,

or you could live,

go make some more shit.

[Street chatter]

♪

MAN: What's up? GINGER: Y'all get back in your house, now. Police.

Sheriff's Department! Get back in your house. Do it.

There's nothin' to see here.

Sorry son of a bitch.

Fuck out of here and start going... Fucker, start moving.

MAN: Tiger, man, yo. What's up, man? What's this?

Yo! Fuck! Lamar! Sheriff's Department.

Lamar! Freeze, motherfucker.

Come on...

Aah!

Get up there, big boy. Get on the door.

Tell them that it's safe. TIGER: Lamar.

Get the fuck off me! Come open the door, Lamar.

Tell them who you are. Fuckin' door, man. It's Tiger.

Get up here. Get back!

[All shouting at once] Police!

Fuck!

GINGER: Everybody down, now!

Sheriffs! Hands behind your head!

Shut up! Get the fuck down!

[Shouting continues]

COHLE: Don't move.

Get in the tub. Listen, listen.

You lay down. Don't you move.

WOMAN: Got no shit! Let me outta here!

Shut your fuckin' mouth!

TIGER: Look on the left. It's right there.

No, no, no, no. Ginger, no. Don't touch it.

It's in there. You open it, motherfucker.

WOMAN: Get that gun out of my face. MAN: I'll put something else

in your face, you don't shut up.

GINGER: Get your fuckin' ass over there! Start movin'!

Come on!

COHLE: Ginger.

You motherfucker! Get that shit off of there!

Come on! Hurry your ass up! COHLE: Fuck.

LAMAR: Fuck you!

All right, 30 seconds, in and out.

30 seconds, in and out, Ginger.

Get that safe open.

Watch it, watch it. I'll nuke you, motherfucker.

Keep your fuckin' mouth shut.

I'm gonna fire on you, motherfucker.

TIGER: Get the fuck off my dawg!

Fuck! COHLE: Easy, easy.

Just get in and get the fuck out, Ginger.

It's Christmastime, Crash!

We got this shit! Easy.

MAN OUTSIDE: Fuck that fake-ass po-po!

Stay calm. Get it, Ginger. Get the fuck out of here.

Ginger, man, they're gathering out there--

[All shouting at once]

Aah!

Come on, Ginger!

They're animals out there, man. Easy, easy.

Easy, motherfucker.

Easy. Easy.

Ginger, let's fuckin' go!

You sorry-ass motherfucker! Easy.

I told your cracker ass! You're dead!

Don't fucking fire! Do not--

Goddamn it.

WOMAN: Lamar!

Ginger! Ginger! Stop fuckin' around!

Fuck!

[Overlapping shouting]

Fuck!

[Gunfire]

GINGER: What the fuck! Ginger!

I fuckin' knew it!

Aah!

Wish I could have done this from the start, you fucking moron!

[Groans]

Oh, fuck! What the fuck are you doin', man?

Shut the fuck up.

Motherfucker!

[Gunshot]

GINGER: Hey!

[Panting] Get up.

Freeze. Who else is in the house?

Nobody. OK. Get in the bathroom.

In the bathroom. Lay down.

[Ginger grunts]

[Distant sirens approaching]

[Dialing]

[Line rings]

Marty, OK. [Panting]

I need you to meet me at Amelia Street

between 18th and 19th in 90 seconds.

You got it? You got it?

[Wheezing] Amelia!

18th and 19th!

90 seconds, motherfucker!

MAN: Ooh, one right there!

COHLE: Aah! Here comes another one!

[Grunts] [Gunshot]

Aah!

Get your ass up! Come on!

[Coughs]

Aah!

[Distant shouting]

Ginger.

[Shouting growing closer]

You stupid mother--

The neighborhood--

[Groaning]

MAN: Come on, man! Police behind us, man!

[Panting] Come on.

[Ginger gasping]

[Sirens]

MAN: Keep going, man! Come on! Hurry up, man!

[Ginger wheezing]

[Police officers shouting]

DISTANT OFFICER: Put the weapon down!

GINGER: You motherfucker!

I'll get you!

You'll get yours, fuckin' Crash, you motherfucker.

You'll get--aah!

DISTANT OFFICER: Come out with your hands raised!

Get down on your knees!

[Distant gunfire]

[Shouting continues]

[Gunfire]

[All shouting at once]

Quick, hide. Here.

Oh!

Oh, shit! [Dog barking]

WOMAN: Hey!

[Gunfire]

COHLE: Go!

[Pants]

[Groaning]

[Distant automatic gunfire]

Go.

[Brakes screech]

COHLE: Go, go, go!

[Tires squeal]

[Siren]

HART: What the fuck happened?

COHLE: Remember that meth contact now?

GINGER: You rat motherfucker!

You're gonna give me the location for Ledoux,

I'm gonna let you slide, Ginger.

GINGER: Bullshit.

What the fuck you think I want with you, huh?

[Panting]

Oh, goddamn.

I am so done talking to you like a man.

[Ginger groaning]

Go, go.

MAN ON RADIO: We have multiple gunshots.

217, multiple suspects...

True_Detective_2014 - S01 - E04 - Who_Goes_There Re-Sync & Edit Tharindu_Lakmal_Jeewantha