All language subtitles for Wrath.Of.Man.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-EVO-HI

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

OPERATOR: (ON RADIO)
Copy that. Over and out.

You gotta get these hinges
greased, Mick. Come on!

MICK: The grease
isn't the problem.

- (GRUNTS)
- It's the hinge.

This is a creaky old dinosaur.

This old girl shoulda
been retired 10 years ago.

(CHUCKLES) Yeah?

Yeah, well, they should have
retired me 10 years ago.

MICK: Not you, Charlie.

You're in your prime.

I should know
'cause we're the same age,

and I'm in my prime.

(CHARLIE SCOFFS)

MICK: Hey,
is that coffee still hot?

Yeah, it's hot enough.

MICK: All right, then.
Could you do me a favor?

(CHARLIE SCOFFS)

You ever thought about, uh,
buying a coffeemaker?

MICK: Coffeemaker?

You know, one that's got
that milk froster thing?

MICK: Oh, yeah.
Frother. I got ya.

Yeah. That way,
then you can, uh...

MICK: Thanks.

You know,
make your own cappuccino.

MICK: Ugh, God damn!

Hey, I thought you said
this coffee was hot.

CHARLIE: What is this?

Dude, it's typical.
What's our time?

MICK: I don't know,

but this truck needs
to get movin'. (GRUNTS)

The game's
gonna be startin' soon,

and the freeway's
gonna be backed up.

- Oh, fuck!
- MICK: Shit!

- What the fuck?
- CHARLIE: Reverse!

- Dispatch, come in!
- What the fuck

- are we gonna do now?
- You know what to do.

- Follow protocol!
- CHARLIE: Oh, shit.

- There's procedures for this!
- Let's go! Reverse! Reverse!

MICK: I'm fuckin' trying!
What the fuck?

Dispatch, come in!

CHARLIE: They're cuttin'
the fucking doors!

MICK: We're being hit
by armed assailants.

CHARLIE: Shit!

MICK: Repeat,
armed robbery in progress!

CHARLIE: They're comin' in!

MICK:
They're cutting the doors!

(MICK GROANS)

(MUFFLED CONVERSATION)

MAN 1: (MUFFLED) Get your
motherfucking ass out here!

OPERATOR: Bravo, come in!
MAN 1: Hands up!

Hands up in the air!

OPERATOR: Follow protocol.
Police have been dispatched.

MAN 1: Let's move!

OPERATOR: Come in, over.
MAN 1: Get the fuck out!

OPERATOR: Come in, Bravo 3729.

MAN 2: Keep your hands away
from your weapons.

Hands away from your weapons!

MAN 1: Let's move!
OPERATOR: Can you hear me?

MAN 1: They don't pay you
enough to act a fool, let's go!

Get your motherfucking
ass down!

CHARLIE: All right! All right!

- Fortico 1377, alarm raised.
- MAN 3: Move!

OPERATOR:
First Street viaduct.

MAN 2: Fuck me.

MAN 4: (ON RADIO)
Alarm registered.

MAN 5: Tires, now.
MAN 1: Clear!

MAN 5: Do what we say
and you fucking live.

OPERATOR: Bravo,
two black-and-whites en route.

Approximately
two minutes away.

MAN 4: (ON RADIO)
Two units dispatched.

Incoming. ETA, two minutes.

MAN 5: Two minutes!

OPERATOR:
Bravo, can you hear me?

- (GUNSHOT)
- MAN 1: What the fuck?

OPERATOR: Please respond.

(GUNSHOTS)

Base to Bravo,
what's happening there?

MAN 1: The fuck
is going on out there?

MAN 5: Fuck!

MAN 4: He shot
two fucking guards, Elvis.

He shot two fucking guards!

MAN 3: Number one,
are we good?

OPERATOR:
Bravo, come in. Over.

MAN 3: Are we good,
number one?

MAN 5: We're good.
OPERATOR: Base to Bravo,

- what's happening there?
- (GUNSHOTS)

- What's your 20?
- MAN 4: Number one just shot

a fucking... (STATIC)
Shot a fucking... (STATIC)

OPERATOR: Base to Bravo, 3729,
respond.

MAN 1: What do you see?

MAN 4: Incoming!
Incoming on the right!

MAN 1: Elvis, what's the play?

MAN 3: Five, incoming!
MAN 6: I'm on it!

MAN 3: Take the legs!

- (GUNSHOTS)
- MAN 5: Fuck!

MAN 1: Oh, my God.
What the fuck?

MAN 3: I said
the fucking legs.

Three, take his gun.

MAN 4: Okay,
we got one minute. Let's go!

Exit west! We gotta go, Elvis!
Come on!

MAN 2: B-team,
let's go! Let's go!

OPERATOR: Come in, Bravo,
3729. Bravo, please respond.

MAN: Fortico Security
specialize in armed guard

cash pickup trucks
and deliveries across LA.

Our clients are made up of

large-scale
retail department stores,

marijuana dispensaries,
cash vaults,

casinos, private banks.

(WHISPERS) Could I get
another one? Thank you.

(IN NORMAL TONE)
We're not federal.

We're essentially middlemen.

Hundreds of millions shifting
through here every week.

We got 12 trucks,
two or three guards in each.

A driver, a messenger,
and a guard,

each moving up to 15 mil
a day, and sometimes more,

which can attract
unwanted attention.

I won't lie.
It can be dangerous,

which is why
we train you properly

and pay the premium rates,

so we can all
sleep better at night.

Thanks.

Now, your background checks
came back fine,

and your reference from

Orange Delta Security
was impressive.

That was a good company.

I'm sorry to hear
it went bust.

Family?

(SIGHS) Married. Divorced.

No one else?

No.

Good. Stay focused. I like it.

But just so you know,

we lost a couple of guards
a while back.

Killed on the job.
A civilian, too.

A fuckin' tragedy,

and they still haven't found
the scum who did it.

And that's why
we've upped our game.

Sixty hours
of firearms training.

MAN 2: Patrick?
Are you Patrick Hill?

No, please. Don't get up.

Good to meet you.

Let's see. Hill... Hill...

H. I'm gonna call you H,
if that's okay?

They call me Bullet,
which is ironic

because I certainly
don't move like one.

You ready for target practice?

Ready.

I saw you had
your pistol license already.

So, this is the pre-assignment
training course.

We got eight hours together,

popping cans
off walls and the like.

You need to hit
the 70% pass mark.

There's some fitness
which, by the looks of it,

shouldn't be
a problem for you.

We just need to see
how you are under pressure.

Shall we get started?

Whatever you say, Bullet.

Well, that's
quite enough of that.

Been a while, huh?

Little practice,
I'm sure you'll get there.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Too far! Too far!

Pull up a little. Pull it up.

Look at that.

70%.

Just slipped in.

Any less,
we'd be doing this again.

You won't be joining
a Formula 1 team anytime soon,

but you'll do for this job.

Let's get you suited.

How many we got coming?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER
AND LAUGHTER)

In that case,
I'll get three pounds of ribs

and a bucket of wings
for the kids.

Cough up, Bullet.

Dude, I'm on the phone.

I don't care. $30.

- How much?
- 30 bucks.

Wait for it, wait for it.

- Change?
- Suplex!

- I want that money.
- There you go, buddy.

Give me that dollar dollar.

- WOMAN: Forty-one.
- Incoming. Thank you.

Forty-two's not gonna beat me.

- Fuck off, Dana.
- SHIRLEY: Come on.

You're not supposed to be
in here anyway.

No, I think it's you

who's in the wrong
changing room, Stuart.

SHIRLEY: Come on.
Let's look lively, people.

Chop-chop, Goose.
Show me your money.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we have a new addition.

DANA: Here you go, Shirley.

May I introduce H.

Oh, she'll do.

Put him down, Dana.

Come on.
I'll show you your locker.

This one's yours.

- You good?
- Yeah.

Why, don't I look it?

No, buddy, you look like
a shrink-wrapped Rolls-Royce,

in contrast to this car crash.

Meet Hollow Bob
and Boy Sweat Dave.

You look like
you could do some pull-ups.

I'll put a 50
on you beatin' Boy Sweat here.

What's the matter with him?
He looks good for it.

Yeah, that's what
Boy Sweat thinks,

but he's also a cock.

Who's a cock?

You're a cock, Dave.

I reckon our man here
could pull yours right off.

He looks like
he could handle a cock.

Yeah, small hands.

Makes me very popular,
and you look good.

What's that?

I said, uh...

I'm sure you'd win.

At what?

The pull-ups.

Oh, charming.

One of yours?

I've been lookin' for him.

I'll put him back
in the collection.

H: Glad I could help.

BULLET: You know,
you're making friends already.

It's worth
getting to know Dave.

He's quite entertaining in
an unintentional kind of way.

BOB: Yeah.
He once killed a hamster

'cause he squeezed it
too tight.

BULLET: And he can't write

without sticking
his tongue out.

This is
your temporary sidearm.

Just till you get your own.

I need you to love it,

- respect it...
- (GUN CLICKS)

...and bring it back
in one piece.

Do they want us back
in one piece, too?

Do you have a problem?

I don't know. Do I?

What happens
if we're pullin' pistols

in a machine gun fight?

Then you retort with
a positive mental attitude.

- Name?
- He's H.

H?

Like the bomb,
or like Jesus H.

Well, if you can mushroom
cloud or walk on water,

what you worried
about machine guns for?

(INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENT
ON PA)

BULLET: It's the rock star's
first day.

All right, lucky you got
a soft drop, then.

Try to keep
your piece strapped,

like he shoulda done
on prom night.

You're just unhappy I'm happy.

Yeah, only man I know

that married
the first woman he banged.

You're a cynical old dog,
Supe.

SUPER: But I still got
plenty of bitches.

'Course he does.

(DOOR CLICKS)

(DOOR BUZZES)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

Well, that's nice.

Who's your pal?

I'll explain later.

DANA: Jesus Christ, at least
try to look busy, Shirley.

SHIRLEY: What, you got another
hot date tonight, Dana?

You're gonna love
who your new partner is.

Just tell me
it ain't the Limey.

STUART:
The grand ol' duke himself.

Fuck!

Boy Sweat,
you'll be happy to hear

that H
is replacing Sticky John.

- Thank you, Stuart.
- You got it, Bullet.

Stay out from under my feet,
and we'll get along just fine.

Do you have any idea
how dangerous this job can be?

Some idea, yeah.

No, you have no idea.

We ain't the predators,
we're the prey.

Ooh.

Boy Sweat's up front.
You jump in there with him.

Whatever you say, boss.

DAVE: Did you hear about
the guards that were murdered?

You know,
it happened right down there.

Come on, Dave,
it's his first day.

What? He needs to hear this.

Don't engage. He'll forget
what he said in a moment.

I heard.

It's a tragedy.

Yeah, what you didn't hear

is that I was meant to be
driving the truck that day.

(CLICKS TONGUE)
Why wasn't ya?

I was sick.

BULLET: Hungover.

Sick. All holes.

And the last thing I needed
was the Feds in my face

trying to make out
if I was involved somehow.

Lucky you had a strong alibi.

Fuck you, Bullet.

He was staying at his mom's.

She knows how I like my eggs.

BULLET: This is a $2 million
pickup for Bank of the US.

Dave will stay in the truck.
H, you're coming with me.

You get to meet the lovely
ladies who work the tills.

Just be wary of Hot Betty.

If you're lucky, she'll only
take your fuckin' arm off.

(BULLET CHUCKLES)

Godfrey, H.
H, Godfrey.

- H.
- Godfrey.

X marks the spot.

Godfrey, as always,
a pleasure.

I like the way
you handle that cart.

Where'd you learn
that technique?

H: Spent a lot of time
in supermarkets.

- Shopping.
- (BULLET CHUCKLES)

BULLET: I can picture it now.

A paragon of modern man
on a wild sojourn,

stalking down the aisles,
hunting for Pop-Tarts.

Pop-Tarts are not really
my poison, Bullet.

I prefer to lose myself
in the dizzy food coma

of synthetic cheese
and impossible meats.

BULLET: What has the world
come to?

A direct line of evolution,

from Paleolithic man

to a diabetic house husband.

Harsh.

But true.

How'd your boy do?

Did he survive
the hostile territory

of Hot Betty
and the menopausal MILFs?

Did you make poo-poo,
or is your diaper still clean?

He did just fine.

Hot Betty
almost slid off her seat.

Oh, so there's juice
in the old raisin yet.

DAVE: (ON RADIO)
Wakey-wakey, Sticky.

JOHN: (ON RADIO)
2411, clear to proceed.

Pull her in slowly this time,
Boy Sweat.

DAVE: Base,
this is Gamma reporting back.

Copy that, Gamma.

Where's that boyfriend
of yours?

They always gotta see
the driver and messenger.

Otherwise,
you ain't gettin' in.

JOHN: Okay, Gamma,
you're clear.

At least your boy
didn't fuck that up.

I still prefer Sticky John.

Everyone prefers Sticky John.

Mm, you're gonna
love him, Dave.

He's got that exotic European
thing workin' for him.

It'll take you a while
to dial in.

Hasn't taken me very long.

I don't care
what you guys think.

That man's a dark horse.

What do you mean by that?

That cat's overqualified
for this game.

He's got history.

We're all overqualified
for this game,

and we all got history.

Beer and pool?

Your first day's over.

It's a tradition.

Sure. Give me two minutes.

JOHN: Well, look who it is,
Beauty and the fucking Beast.

BULLET: Ain't you gonna
put your card back, Sticky?

(READER CHIMES)

(MUFFLED LAUGHTER AND CHATTER)

The point of the game is
to get the ball in the hole.

Point of a woman
is to shut the fuck up, Dana.

All that Ivy League education

is really workin' for you,
Boy Sweat.

Pretty soon
you'll all be workin' for me.

The power's
in this big head here.

Well, it's definitely not
in your little head,

or are you
still blaming the beer?

Yo, Jap's eye, you gonna
take a shot, or what?

At least I'll still be here
next week to take a shot.

What's that supposed
to fuckin' mean?

He's already got your old job.

Word around the pool table is
boss has eyes for the new boy.

What, flat-footed Limey?
I'd shit him.

Maybe you should
say that to his face.

Maybe I will.

I spy with my little eye
that I smell fear.

That doesn't make any sense.

Hey, John.

You're an idiot.

JOHN: Fuckin' assholes.

Here comes the walk of shame.

JOHN: Yo, Action Man,

can I buy you a beer?

Nah.

Sorry, uh...

You mind?

So, uh, where'd
you work before, then?

Orange Delta Security, Europe.

(IN BRITISH ACCENT)
Jolly excitin', was it, mate?

Yeah, spectacular.

You ain't much for talking,
are ya, Mary Poppins?

Oh, no, I can talk.

I just don't want
to talk to you.

Let me buy you a beer.

Just make sure
you drink it over there.

Anything else?

BULLET:
I gotta give it to ya, H.

You're a real social magician.

First, you take his job,

and then you make him cry
in his beer.

(HORN HONKING)

DAVE: What is
taking him so long?

It's a 10-grand drop.

He should have been back
five minutes ago.

(DAVE SIGHS)

Hey, Bullet,
what's taking you so long?

(HEAVY BREATHING ON RADIO)

Bullet, unless you found

some beautiful,
blue-eyed Latino boy,

you should be back by now.

(HEAVY BREATHING ON RADIO)

BULLET: Fuck, fuck!

(GRUNTING ON RADIO)

ROBBER:
You fucking look at me...

You see me,
and you fucking die!

(HEAVY PANTING ON RADIO)

BULLET: Dave... (PANTING)

Dave...

ROBBER 2: We're gonna
fucking kill him.

(DAVE BREATHING SHAKILY)

ROBBER 3: (IN DISTORTED VOICE)
Now, listen to me, ladies.

If you wanna see
your girlfriend again,

you'll do exactly as I say.

DAVE: Uh...

Um... (GULPS)

I have to call this...
No! Uh...

There's a protocol for this.
We have to drive away.

- We just drive away.
- Sorry?

They don't want his 10 grand.
They don't want his 10 grand.

The money's in the truck.
We have $2.5 million in here.

If we take it away,
they're not gonna hurt him.

They're not gonna kill him
for 10 grand.

Dave,

you need to
pull yourself together.

You need to reconsider this.

(SHOUTING) Reconsider?

That's why they have
the fucking policy!

You don't wanna do this,

you can get out
of the truck now.

(SHUDDERING)

But we're not
leaving him behind.

He's one of us.

It's only money.

In short,

I'm getting him back.

ROBBER 3: (ON RADIO)
Stop fucking around.

You have one minute
before she dies.

Now, turn the key and drive,

and I will tell you
when to stop.

You gonna drive,
or you getting out?

Oh, shit.

This is such a bad idea.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

ROBBER 3: (ON RADIO)
Take the next left.

Now, stop the truck.

- (GRUNTING)
- BULLET: All right. All right.

ROBBER: Get the fuck
over here.

ROBBER 3: We got
your fucking friend.

He don't mean shit to us.

They're serious!

- (GRUNTS)
- (BULLET GROANS)

ROBBER: Shut the fuck up.

ROBBER 3:
Open the fucking doors,

and pick up the money,
and throw it in the flatbed.

You open it, they're just
gonna kill all three of us

and take the money anyway.

Dave, you just worry about

putting your arsehole
back in your arsehole,

and leave this to me.

Fuck!

Fuck!

ROBBER 1: This guy's fucking
around. He's throwing

- bags on the floor.
- God fucking damn it.

Now, listen up, fuckboy.

I said throw the money
in the fucking flatbed.

Try to get clever again,

and old boy's getting
a face full of shit.

(IN DISTORTED VOICE)
Now, aim fucking straight!

Just do what he says.

These guys
are fucking serious.

ROBBER 1: Get it in the truck
next time, you fucknut!

Sorry, pal.

Oh, fuck!

(GUNSHOTS)

Fuck!

DAVE: Please!
Put the gun down!

Just let them take the money!

You're gonna
get us fucking killed.

(GRUNTS)

ROBBER 1: Fuck, go, move!

DAVE: Please stop!

Just give 'em
the fucking money!

Are you fucking insane?

(GUNFIRE)

DAVE: Fuck! Fuck!

(ROBBER GRUNTS)

Bullet! Bullet!

Who is this fucking lunatic?

- (GUNSHOTS)
- (GLASS SHATTERING)

- (GUNSHOT)
- (YELPS)

(GROANING)

- (GUNSHOT)
- Ahh! Fuck!

Jesus Christ.

Who do you work for?

(CHUCKLING)
Suck my fucking dick!

What did you say?

I said suck my fucking dick!

Suck your own dick.

(SIGHS) You all right, Dave?

Did you make poo-poo?

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

Thank you for that.

(BULLET EXHALES)

Last but not least, Mr. Hill.

OKEY: Well, you're all
sticking to the same story.

That's what happened.

What I don't understand

is how you managed
to take down six men

without even so much
as a scratch.

Well, you gotta admit
it's impressive.

He saved his partner's life.

What about
your firearms experience?

Your shooting was
unambiguously precise, yet

your training scores
were decidedly average.

Barely even passed.

Kill or be killed.
(EXHALES DEEPLY)

Seemed to focus the mind.

All right. (CLEARS THROAT)
Well, there's something else.

We'd like you
to take a look at this video.

It's the security footage

from the raid on
the Fortico cash truck before.

When the guards were killed.

Uh, I can't watch this again.

OKEY: Step outside,
by all means.

We just want
you to let us know

if you think
there's any connection

between this robbery

and the men
you encountered before.

You, uh... You all right
to keep watching?

Yeah. I'm all right.

OKEY: (MUFFLED) Mr. Hill?

Anything ringing a bell?

Mr. Hill?

Could they be related
in any way?

- (MUFFLING STOPS)
- Any connection, Mr. Hill?

No.

OKEY: You sure?

I'm sure.

OKEY: All right, Mr. Hill,

we'll pick this up
another day.

Are we done?

Yeah, we'll be in touch.

Visit the therapist. Rest up.

Thank you, Mr. Hill.

Patrick, can I have a word?

We have a policy.

The shrinks advise

that employees be taken off
the front line for a month

following violent incidents,

and longer if lives were lost.

So, we're gonna
transfer you to desk duty,

in case of PTSD.

Do I look disturbed?

No. No, you don't.

But then, these things
take time to manifest,

to percolate.

It's with your best interests
at heart.

You hired me to do a job.
Did a job.

No, we hired you
to move money.

You hired me to protect money.

MAN: Mr. Hill.

Hey, I'm Blake Halls.
I own Fortico.

I wanted to congratulate you
for yesterday

and to thank you in person.

What you did deserves credit.

You're a real hero,

and that's not wasted on me.

Why don't you take
the rest of the day off

while Terry and I
discuss your promising future?

Terry, we need that guy
in the field.

If we'd had him last year,
we wouldn't be in this mess.

He's exactly what we need,

and the publicity for Fortico
has been very positive.

Plus, have you heard
the crews talking?

They're inspired.

So, don't punish him,
promote him.

(LINE RINGING)

AGENT: Well?

Yes, it was him.

Oh, it had him
written all over it.

Question is,
what was he doing there?

I think we know
what he was doing there, boss.

Oh, clever fucking you,
Hubbard.

It's called sarcasm.

HUBBARD:
What do you want us to do?

Not a fucking thing.
Let the painter paint.

HUBBARD: Do you have any idea
what would happen to us

if anyone found out

that we let the fox
in the fucking henhouse?

The Bureau's been trying to
catch this man for 25 years.

We're just gonna let him
sit on hundreds of millions?

Money doesn't mean
a thing to him.

Listen, there's a reason
why I chose you two.

Because we have
the same priorities.

Now, listen to me
very carefully.

As far as you're concerned,

he's just a regular guard
doing a good job.

Do we understand each other?

- Loud and clear.
- (BEEPS)

"Let the painter paint"?

What the fuck
does that look like?

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Fortico personnel files,

pictures of Dana's family,

and (SIGHS)

the autopsy report.

(FAINT CHATTER ON SPEAKER)

MAN: (ON SPEAKER) You hear me?

Out of the fucking car!

Face down, motherfucker!
Come on!

Show me your fucking hands!

Face down
on the ground right now!

- (GUNSHOTS ON SPEAKER)
- MAN 2: What the fuck?

MAN 1: Face to
the fucking ground!

(GRUNTING ON SPEAKER)

(GUNSHOT ON SPEAKER)

(GUN CLICKS)

Seems you can walk on water,
after all.

Keep up the good work,
soldier.

MAN: Nice one, man.

(DOOR BUZZES)

GUARD: Be my guest.

All right, brother.

(APPLAUSE)

- MAN: Yeah, man! Let's go!
- (ALL CHEERING)

Jump on up, big boy.

H: We should get takeout.
From the Blossom.

The noodle soup at Neptune's
is the bomb.

I prefer the Blossom.

All right.

You gonna call the order in?

I'm busy.

I can see that.

- Who's this joker?
- (MOTORCYCLE ENGINE REVS)

What the hell's going on?

ROBBER 1: Move it!
Get the fuck back!

ROBBER 2: Get down!

(PEOPLE CLAMORING
AND SCREAMING)

H: Reverse! Reverse!

BULLET: I can't fucking see!

(CRANKING)

Gamma to Base,
we have a Code Red.

JOHN: Gamma, this is Base.
What's your location? Over.

ROBBER 3: Port's covered!

BULLET: Chinatown!
Broadway and Hill.

Repeat, Code Red in progress.

JOHN: All right, Gamma,
just follow procedure.

- Stay in the truck. Over.
- (COUGHING)

ROBBER 3: Get out
of the fucking truck!

JOHN: Police have been
dispatched.

ROBBER 3: Come on,
get out of there!

ROBBER 1: Get out
of the fucking truck!

- (CONTINUES COUGHING)
- JOHN: Gamma, come in.

ROBBER 2: On the ground!
Get on the fucking ground!

ROBBER 3:
Open the fucking doors!

JOHN: What's your status?
Over.

ROBBER 3: Get down!

Get down!

(SIRENS APPROACHING)

Get down on the ground!

You got three seconds!

So... So...
So, let me get this straight,

they just walked away?

(SHOUTING) Get in
the fucking van! Move it!

ROBBER 1:
Let's fucking go now!

ROBBER 2: Get the fuck
out of here!

(TIRES SCREECH)

(BOTH PANTING)

Doors were open.

What the fuck was it, Mike?

It was the...

Yeah.

Turned back around and left.

No, I'm sorry...

But what Terry is trying to
say is that you're a legend.

And if you keep this up,

you won't just be
employee of the month,

you'll have your own calendar
and merchandise.

Now, get out there
and keep crushing it.

Why are you so cynical?

I'm starting to think
he's a psychopath.

- (READER CHIMES)
- I hear H is for Hero.

Drink?

It doesn't feel right.

It was as if he recognized H.

Like he saw a dark spirit.

What are you saying?

BULLET: I don't know
what I'm saying.

He's not a cop.

Doesn't smell like a cop.

But if he's not a cop,
what is he?

He's a dark fucking spirit.

(DANA INHALES SHARPLY)

Put that on.

Meet me next door.

I told you that first day...

I don't trust him.

What the hell are you doing?

Sit down.

I'm not fucking sitting down.
I wanna go back to bed.

Dana. Sit down.

You got 10 seconds
to explain this.

I'm not telling you anything.

Dana.

It's very important that
you take my inquiry seriously.

I take it very seriously

that you think
you can interrogate me

in my own fucking house.

(GASPS) Fuck.

Jesus Christ, okay,
it's my savings, all right?

The fuck has it
got to do with you?

Dana, you're not listening.

(YELPS) Fuck! Jeez, all right,
all right, all right!

Okay. (HESITATES) Please stop.

(DANA BREATHING HEAVILY)

Sit down.

(PANTING)

I found it.

Okay? It had been
signed for one day

by the staff at Grande Liquor,

and they missed it.
It was in the trolley, so...

You stole it?

Yeah, I fucking stole it.

It's 125,000. It's...

It's my retirement fund.

You working
with anyone on the inside?

I don't know what the fuck...

Think carefully before
you answer the question.

No.

The retirement fund is yours.

But if it comes to light
that you're not telling me

something
that I need to know,

I want you to understand

how resourceful
and serious I am.

On the table
is a picture of your parents.

Had it taken last week.

I got your contacts...

I know who you love...

and I do bear a grudge.

We understand each other?

Good.

BOY: They're saying
that climate change

is a natural phenomenon,

rather than
an artificial phenomenon.

So how do you explain
global warming?

The ice caps melting?

Well, what melts up there
reforms down there.

Do you know why they call
the Arctic the Arctic

and the Antarctic
the Antarctic?

No, Dougie, I don't.

That's why I pay for you
to go to good schools.

"Arktos" means
"bear" in Greek.

"Ant" means "without."

Hence, ant arktos,

"without bears."

Up with, down without.

Good news for ice cubes,
bad news for polar bears.

What time does the game start?

6:30. We've got ages.

What do you wanna do?

I don't know, grab some food?

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Sure.

Hello? What is it, Mike?

MIKE: We've got a problem
with the job.

We're gonna need you
to put eyes on the truck.

Dougie, go get a coat,
will ya?

It's not gonna rain.

Dougie, coat.

But why?

'Cause I'm your dad,
and I said so.

Get someone else to do it.

(SIGHS) I can't, boss.
There is no one else.

It's gotta be you.

Joe, two fuckin' minutes!

H: I'm with my son, Mike.

You know Dougie's
over here on holiday,

and it's the only time
I get to see him.

It's your fuckin' job.
You do it.

MIKE: Understood.

Brendan was on it, but he got
knocked off his bike

by a drunk driver.

Make sure the boss knows
it's not my fault.

It's a drunk driver.

Now, he's with the police
right now, making a statement.

Otherwise,
he'd find a way to be there.

There is no one else.

I'm out of town,

Moggy's surveying the depot.

I'd help if I could, Mike.

But my eyeballs
are on the depot.

Then postpone it.

MIKE: Oh, we can do that
if you want,

but it's gonna set us back
three months of recon.

We need to know the route.
If they turn left or right.

That's all
you have to witness.

Yeah, and there's no danger
to it at all.

You can stand back
a thousand yards.

Didn't you put trackers
on the truck?

MIKE: They scan the trucks

every time
they return to the base.

We can't do it digitally.

We gotta put eyes on it. And,

- boss?
- (BEEPS)

Tracking you on your phone
right now.

You're blocks away.
Ten minutes.

And I repeat, no danger.

DOUGIE: Dad?

- Happy?
- Happy.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

I'm starving. Fancy a burrito?

You don't even like burritos.

I know, but I'm starving.

Sure.

I'll be two minutes, okay?

Keep the doors locked.
Don't go anywhere.

All right.

CHEF: Yes, sir?

Two burritos, please, sir.

CHEF: You got it.

Go ahead, Mike.

MIKE: I can see you there.

Now, is there some gates
on your left-hand side?

H: Yeah.

MIKE: Now, in a minute,

those said gates
are gonna open,

and that said minute is now.

(ENGINE STARTS)

All I need to know from you

is if that truck
is turning left or right.

Latter.

CHARLIE: You know,
make your own cappuccino.

MICK: Ugh, God damn!

CHARLIE: What is this?

(MUFFLED THUDDING)

(MUFFLED GUNSHOT)

MAN 1: Yo, out of
the fuckin' car! Come on!

Don't fuckin' look at me!
Out of the fuckin' car!

- (LINE RINGING)
- (BREATH TREMBLING)

All right, Mike.

That's my day done.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Your call
has been forwarded to...

MAN 1: You hear me?
Out of the fuckin' car!

Face down, motherfucker!
Come on!

Show me your fuckin' hands!

Face down on the ground
right now!

There you go.

MAN 2: Do what we say,
and you fucking live.

MAN 1: Face to
the fucking ground!

- Thank you.
- CHEF: Have a good one.

MAN 3: Two minutes!

- (GUNSHOT)
- (GRUNTING)

(GASPING)

MAN 3: Fuck!

MAN 4: Number one,
are we good?

- Are we good, number one?
- MAN 3: We're good.

Dougie?

(IMPERCEPTIBLE)

(GUNSHOT)

(MACHINE BEEPING)

(TOUCHSCREEN BEEPING)

(RAPID BEEPING)

(MUFFLED PA CHATTER)

Try not to, uh,
move too quickly.

You're in a hospital.

You were in an accident,
you were shot at.

Six bullets removed,

and three operations.

Two life-saving.

You lost
a fifth of your blood.

You've... You've got
a warrior's spirit, Mr. Mace.

What about my son?

Dougie.

(IMPERCEPTIBLE)

WOMAN: My beautiful boy.

And now, he's gone.

He looked up to you.

(SOBS)

He was obsessed with you.

It wasn't my work, Jane.

(JANE SOBS)

You killed our son.

(JANE CRYING SOFTLY)

And still,
you have nothing to say.

(SNIFFLES)

You are a cold, cold cunt.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

AGENT: My condolences
for your loss.

Before you ask, we have
no leads on this thing.

Which is kinda strange
for a job this big.

Somebody knows something.

Somebody always
knows something.

It's just I'm not allowed
to ask the hard questions.

Here's the shit list.

Knock yourself out.

Need any of them to live?

I don't miss anyone that
your boys have buried so far.

Then you're gonna
let me do this my way.

I can do in two weeks

what you only wish
you could do in 20 years.

If their names
are on that list,

you can do your worst.

Just be mindful

that I can only look confused
for so long.

The floor is yours.

MOGGY: Brendan.

You need to quit that.

I can hardly breathe here.

MOGGY: It wasn't your fault.

It was a drunk driver.

(CHUCKLES DRYLY)

That's easy for you to say.

It's his son, Moggy.
His only son.

Hey, we all fucked up.

So, let's accept
responsibility

and not turn on each other
in there.

Brendan, retain your dignity.

(DOOR BUZZES AND OPENS)

MIKE: It's a fuckin' tragedy,
boss.

MOGGY: We all loved Dougie
and our sympathies run deep.

BRENDAN: It's more my fault
than anyone's,

and we'll do anything
to find who's responsible.

I need to know
who pulled the trigger.

I need a face.

MOGGY: Of course.

And we've been
on nothing else,

trying to get answers.

It's not any
of the usual suspects.

(MAN SPEAKING NERVOUSLY
IN SPANISH)

You're gonna tell us
what we wanna know.

This is your last chance.

The tree has been shook.

And it's been shook hard.

I want a name.

Anyone with the skillset
or the form.

We've run out of names.

We've deployed large amounts
of time, money, and effort...

- (CAMERA CLICKS)
- ...in the search for justice.

It was a long list.

Not good enough.

MOGGY: Understood,

but we've scorched the earth.

H: No, it's not understood.

You started by saying
you'd do anything,

but what I'm hearing is

you think
you've done everything.

Understood.

MALE SINGER: (SINGING)
I hear the train a-comin'

It's rollin' 'round the bend

And I ain't seen the sunshine

Since I don't know when

I'm stuck in Folsom Prison

And time keeps draggin' on

But that train keeps a-rollin'

On down to San Antone

On down to San Antone

When I was just a baby

My mama told me, "Son..."

The fuck?

MOGGY: Make a sound
and you're dead.

- "Always be a good boy"
- What the fuck?

- (WOMAN SCREAMING)
- (MAN GRUNTING)

Get off me!

"Don't ever play with guns"

All right, Jerome,
what do you think?

It's getting late.
We all got places to go.

So, why don't you
save us a lot of time

and you a lot of trouble

and tell us
what we need to know?

Trouble?

You motherfuckers got no idea
how much trouble you in.

Do you know who the fuck I am?

Yeah, I know
exactly who you are,

and that's why you're here.

So, I can see
it's gonna be a long night.

Let's get started.

Bag him.

(GRUNTING) You motherfuckers!

I hear the train a-comin'

Get the fuck off me!

Fuck you! (SCREAMS)

- It's rollin' 'round the bend
- (GROANING)

(GRUNTING)

And I ain't seen the sunshine

Since I don't know when

(JEROME SCREAMS)

When I was just a baby

My mama told me, "Son...

"Always be a good boy

"Don't ever play with guns"

(GASPING)

- (JEROME COUGHS)
- All right, take it off.

(GASPS DEEPLY)

(COUGHING)

I don't think
he knows anything.

(MIKE SIGHS)

(JEROME COUGHING)

We'll see about that.

I hear you're a tough lad
and a hard worker.

Good for you.

But you're still
gonna give me a name.

(SCOFFS)

If not for your life,
for hers.

(GRUNTS)

JEROME: What the fuck?

Don't touch her!
I said don't touch her!

Don't fucking touch her!

- Leave her out of this!
- Bag her.

- (YELPS)
- (JEROME SHOUTS)

(WHIMPERS)

JEROME: All right.

The only fuckin' name.
(PANTING)

(GRUNTING)

(SIGHS)

(WOMAN CHOKING)

The Gashi brothers.

(GASPS)

(PANTING)

(JEROME COUGHS)

If it's anyone, it's them.

Fucking dark.

Porn, trafficking,
witchcraft, kids,

home invasions.

It's talked about
there's cash trucks, too.

But you did not
hear this from me,

and if you did,

kill me now.

(WOMAN SOBBING)

Give him 200 grand.

Put the keys in the car.

(LIGHTER CLICKS)

(OLDIE MUSIC PLAYING FAINTLY
ON SPEAKER)

Pass me the water.

- You all right?
- (SIGHS)

No, I'm not.

It's a shitshow.

Fucking reptiles.

There's kids involved.

(EXHALES)

Got a feeling I'm gonna
be cleaning up all day.

(MIKE SIGHS)

Mike!

(SIGHS)

(SIGHS)

(WOMAN CRYING SOFTLY)

MIKE: Here you go, sweetheart.

Drink some water.

There's a good girl.

(GIRL STRUGGLING)

- (MIKE SIGHS)
- (GIRL WHIMPERING)

- (OBJECTS CLATTERING)
- (GIRL CRYING)

- (MAN GRUNTS)
- (OBJECT STRIKES)

(GIRL SCREAMING)

(GIRL SOBBING)

How much is in the pot?

I'd say 2.5.

So, what do you think?

I think

it isn't them.

You gotta tell the boss.

MOGGY: They're filthy fucks.

And they have done trucks,
but they ain't our men.

That job was above them.

They're more
about the smash-and-grab.

Looks like
there's two and a half mil,

which they confessed to,

but, uh,

what do you want me to do?

Don't want you
to do anything, Moggy.

How old are these girls?

(GIRL CRYING)

Not old enough.

- (GUNSHOTS)
- (MAN GROANS)

Give the girls the cash.

Let 'em go.

(CRYING CONTINUES)

(SIGHS)

(MIKE EXHALES DEEPLY)

Can I speak candidly, boss?

I don't think
we should do this again.

Understandably, you're...

You're not in your right mind
just now and

you need a break.

But we can't continue

to handle business this way,
otherwise

some fucker's gonna come for
us before we can get to them.

In truth,

we need a different approach.

It's gotta be an inside job.

You're right, Mike.

I shouldn't have
got you involved.

I'm gonna go back
to London for a while.

WOMAN: Patrick.

Patrick?
I'm a Brit, not a Mick.

So, your mom's Irish.

Usual affair.

This time, you're
Patrick Hill from Lewisham.

You've got a driver's license,
passport,

IRS papers
with a full tax history,

and medical records.

All your criminal checks
are clean.

You've got 25 years' worth
of employment,

with references
working in Europe

and the same for
the previous addresses, too.

Your employment history
has been inserted

into the Delta Orange
Security system.

So, should anyone check,

you've worked there
for 11 years.

You even finished college,

and have held the same
gym membership since 2011.

As requested,
you have your pistol license,

and finally,
the hotel has been arranged.

It's another brand-new you.

Kirsty, one more thing.

Get me a copy
of the coroner's report.

You sure that's a good idea?

Just do it.

TERRY: And your reference from

Orange Delta Security
was impressive.

Family?

H: Married. Divorced.

TERRY: Anyone else?

No.

TERRY: It's a pleasure
to meet you, Mr. Hill.

(CAMERA CLICKING)

You ain't much for talking,
are ya, Mary Poppins?

Let me buy you a beer.

Just make sure
you drink it over there.

- KIRSTY: The autopsy report.
- (BREATH TREMBLING)

MAN: (ON SPEAKER)
Show me your fucking hands!

Face down on the ground
right now!

Face to the fucking ground!

DOUGIE: Please.

(GUNSHOT ON SPEAKER)

MAN: How are you
holdin' up, Sam?

What's to say?

I wake up late, watch TV,

drink a beer
and watch more TV.

Maybe convince Ma
to give me a few bucks,

so I can buy more beer and

watch TV until I'm drunk
enough to fall asleep.

Did I mention I watch TV?

MAN: You're awfully quiet,
Brad.

I'm not quiet.

I'm bored.

MAN: Bored of what?

Not fuckin' working.

We're built for combat,
not daytime TV.

The Afghanis treated us better
than our own.

I wish I was back in the unit.

Boredom's more dangerous
than bullets.

Give me an enemy
I can fuckin' see.

How about you?
You workin' yet, boss?

Still part-time at the mall.

Costin' more than I'm making.

If it wasn't
for Amy's parents,

we'd be on the street.

JAN: Yeah, it seems like
Carlos is the only one

who landed on his feet
with the oil tycoon.

So, I'm there from 6:00 in
the mornin' to 12:00 at night.

This motherfucker's
drippin' in gold,

and I haven't seen
a dollar in overtime yet.

One minute,
we're killin' Arabs,

the next minute,
we're wiping their ass.

Afghanis aren't Arabs.

They're not? What are they?

Clue's in the name.

JACKSON: Afghanis.

(SCOFFS) Whatever,
they're not Americans.

Know what I wanna do?

I wanna lift one of
those precious ornaments

until I get
my motherfuckin' overtime pay.

And why don't you?

Why don't I what?

Make them pay.

They owe us.

Why you askin' me?

Ask Sarge.

Do they keep cash?

What's that?

JACKSON: That is it.

That's fuckin' what?

JACKSON: That is what is left

after we washed it
through the system.

SAM: What's on the table?

JACKSON: 110.

TOM: Two Rolexes, a Patek,

6-carat ring, chains,
40 grand cash.

CARLOS: Wait a minute.

I got hit over the head
and lost my job

for, like, 18 Gs apiece?

SAM: I thought we worked out
over half a million in solids.

We did the legwork,
we made the calls.

BRAD: Number one.
JAN: Go ahead, four.

Incoming.

We spent the sweat,
we dealt with the fence.

That's what we get.

JAN: Salaam alaikum.

JACKSON: Even split.

We're not the Mafia.
We're soldiers.

Nah, somethin'
ain't right here.

You trying to say
something, Jan?

Fuck off, Jan.

Go find another bone to chew.

You'll break your teeth
on this one.

And stand up
when the boss is talkin'.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

JACKSON: We could change it,
though.

Cut out the middleman.

What does that mean?

JACKSON: We want cash.

We go after cash.

We got a guy on the inside.

Inside of what?

Cash trucks.

We took in 1.18 million.

- (WHISTLING)
- CARLOS: That's three years'

worth of work
in one day, baby!

That's $168,571 each.

SAM: That's a lot of paper
right there.

CARLOS: Hold on...
Hold on a second,

that's split seven ways,
not six?

BRAD: Thirty seconds.

There might not be
a middleman,

but there is a man
on the inside.

He needs a slice.

And who is this inside man?

You don't need to know.

JACKSON: Uh-uh-uh. Yes,
motherfuckers, these are guns,

and we will not hesitate
to kill you.

CARLOS:
Hands behind your back.

JAN: Don't be a hero.
It's not your money.

BRAD: Show me your
fuckin' hands, white boy.

JAN: Put your hand
behind your back.

JACKSON:
What's your driver's name?

If you lie to me,
I'll fuckin' kill you.

- Chad.
- JACKSON: Chad fucking what?

Chad Reed.

JACKSON: Horrible name.

Gentlemen,
we have found our opportunity

to stand tall again

after years taking it
staring at our laces.

Don't quit
your day job just yet.

Rhythm as normal. Be smart.

Don't go buying
anything flashy.

Just what you absolutely need.
Do you hear me, Jan?

Oh, yeah.
Loud and clear, boss.

TOM: Groceries, good.
Sports cars, bad.

JACKSON: This isn't
retirement money.

But we play it right,
it could be.

- (RADIO BEEPS)
- CHAD: Yo, Dave, come in.

Come in, Dave.

Just checkin'
everything's as it should be.

JACKSON: (OVER RADIO)
All good here, Chad.

Be out in two.

Did that just go as smooth
as I thought it did?

Yeah, don't count
your chickens just yet.

OFFICER 1: Hold up.

OFFICER 2: Gentlemen.

If I could just
get your signatures.

- How's it goin'?
- All right.

- Fantastic.
- Thank you.

BRAD: I'm telling you now,

there's more gold
in these hills.

JAN: Yeah. And we haven't even
tapped into our skillset.

BRAD: Monkeys could've
done that job.

So, let's push
ourselves, then.

JACKSON: Easy, boys.

Walking before running.

Yeah, I don't know
about you guys,

but I feel like
I've been walkin'

for a long fuckin' time.

ALL: (SINGING)
Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Jack

- (LAUGHTER)
- MAN: Happy birthday, Daddy!

Happy birthday to you

- (CHEERING AND LAUGHING)
- SAM: Yeah!

Oh... (CLEARS THROAT)

It's gettin'
harder and harder.

(CLEARS THROAT)

I know it is my birthday,

but I've got
a present for you.

What are you sittin' on,
old man?

More work,
but with a significant bump.

It's another truck.

This time, there's gonna be
at least 6 mil inside.

- (WHISTLES)
- Now, we're talkin'.

SAM: Well, it's a lot more
profitable than killin' Arabs,

and it makes my blood flow.

(GUESTS CHATTERING)

Sweetheart,
what about the kids?

Yeah, feed them first.

Bad animals, bad.

JAN: Sorry, Mrs. Ainsley.

Here, let me help you with...
help you with that.

JAN: Is the intel good?

We got a good inside man.

He's one of us.

Served under me
back in the day.

Well, I'm in.

I just wanna get back
in the field.

I like the money, (CHUCKLES)
but I fuckin' love a mission.

Yeah, but what's the downside?

We're gonna be
way more exposed,

and it will warrant
significant planning.

There will be six weeks
of training and recon.

JACKSON: Three minutes.

Who the fuck are these clowns?

Gonna be a problem?

I don't think so.

Five, on the car. Handle it.

On it.

Time to go to work, boys.

You gotta get
these hinges greased, Mick.

CHARLIE: What is this?

MICK: Freeway's
gonna be backed up.

CHARLIE: Oh, fuck!
MICK: Shit!

Let's go! Reverse! Reverse!

(TIRES SCREECH)

OPERATOR: (ON RADIO)
Unit 14, clear.

TOM: Still no response.

JAN: Thirty seconds.

SAM: Yo, out of
the fuckin' car, come on!

Don't fuckin' look at me!
Out of the fuckin' car!

BRAD: They don't pay you
enough to act a fool, let's go.

Get your motherfucking
ass down.

CHARLIE: All right! All right!

OPERATOR 2: Fortico 1377.
Alarm raised.

TOM: Alarm registered.

SAM: Face to
the fucking ground!

JAN: Tires, now.
JACKSON: Move!

JAN: Do what we say
and you fucking live.

OPERATOR 2: Bravo,
two black-and-whites en route.

- Two minutes away.
- TOM: Two units dispatched.

(WHISPERS) Don't do it.

TOM: (OVER RADIO)
ETA, two minutes.

JAN: Two minutes!

- (MICK GRUNTING)
- (GUN FIRES)

- MICK: Come on, Charlie!
- (GRUNTS)

CHARLIE: No! No...

Fuck!

TOM: He shot
two fucking guards, Elvis.

He shot two fucking guards!

JACKSON: Number one,
are we good?

(SHOUTS) Are we good,
number one?

We're good.

TOM: Number one just shot
a fuckin' kid!

He shot a fuckin' kid!

H: Dougie!

TOM: Incoming!
Incoming on the right!

JACKSON: Five, incoming!
SAM: I'm on it!

- JACKSON: Take the legs!
- (GUNSHOTS)

SAM: What the fuck
did you just do?

JACKSON:
I said the fucking legs.

Three, take his gun.

TOM: (OVER RADIO)
Okay, we got one minute.

Let's go!

- Move.
- TOM: Exit west!

- We gotta go, Elvis! Come on!
- JACKSON: What the fuck?

- Let's get out of here.
- BRAD: Let's move. Move, move!

CARLOS:
B-team, let's go, let's go!

(POLICE SIRENS
WAILING IN DISTANCE)

JAN: Gotta tell you, man.

Was surprised
to hear from you.

Glad we could all make it.

JAN: Yeah, I'm glad
that shit blew over.

JACKSON: You put us
in a tight spot, Jan.

I'm not sure
it has all blown over.

You're lucky you still got
a seat at this table.

Got it.

I think we all know we're
gonna need a pension fund.

I can't say I wasn't pleased
to have this meeting.

I was startin' to itch.

But as we are aware,

the bigger the reward,
the bigger the risk.

Everything comes at a price.

JACKSON:
Are you ready for that?

'Cause there is no guarantee
of success on this one.

None of this was ever really
guaranteed, was it, Sarge?

We've been through worse.

Yeah, so lay it on us.

We're dyin' to find out.

We do this right,

we'll never
have to work again.

Neither will our kids.

If we get it wrong?

It's game over.

So, what is it?

We're not hitting
a cash truck.

We're hitting them all.

How is that possible?

The depot.

Black Friday.

How much?

North of 150 million.

Ooh!

(INHALES SHARPLY)

JACKSON: We've got eight weeks
of recon and planning.

Base, this is Gamma reportin'.

JOHN: Incoming vehicle,
Gamma 2411 to Bay 6.

That's 160 million
divided seven ways.

We have every avenue covered.

Incomin', Mr. Rossi.

TERRY: Thank you, Mr. Hill.
Sign it in.

JACKSON:
This is our best plan.

(CLICKS TONGUE) Yeah.
All this is for nothing

if our guy
doesn't come through.

Why does this room
always smell so good?

Maybe one day,
my garden can smell like this.

I hope you're not
plannin' anything, Dave.

DAVE: Well, it's Black Friday
tomorrow,

so you'll have
to wait and see.

If I thought you were serious,

I'd have to report you,
you know.

'Course I'm not serious.

Or am I?

Anyway, it's Action Man
you gotta look out for,

not me.

Yeah, colder than a reptile.

Something's not right.

But why do I get the feeling

your money's never been safer,
Mr. Rossi?

JACKSON:
You don't need to worry.

He's greedier than you, Tom.
He'll come through.

Okay, let's run through it
one more time.

Has anyone seen my clutch?

Your... Your what?

My purse, sweetheart.

Uh, there's a green one
on the landing.

- Thank you, Lexie.
- Oh, yeah. Come on.

What are you doing today, Dad?

- Uh, I got work.
- At the mall?

JACKSON: That's right.

Will you come
to my game after?

I wouldn't miss it
for the world.

- AMY: Okay, let's go!
- Come on, Mom, let's go.

- Love you, Dad!
- Bye. Love you!

- Bye, Dad!
- JACKSON: Love you.

AMY: Love you, honey.
JACKSON: I love you.

LEXIE: Come on!

JACKSON: Hey...

(CHUCKLES)
I'm gonna be late for work.

JACKSON: I love you.

LEXIE: Hurry up, Mom!

Okay, bye!

- (DOOR CLOSES)
- Come on, kids,

get in the car!

- (CAR DOORS CLOSE)
- (CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(DIALING)

(CAR DRIVING AWAY)

MAN: (ON PHONE) Go.

JACKSON:
We're all set on our end.

I'm on my way to pick up Jan.

Now, it's all up to you.

(BEEPS)

SUPER: Remember,

take different routes
there and back.

Even a sniff of anything
untoward and you call it in.

This is Black Friday, and
the tills will keep ringin'.

So, don't take no chances.

We got close to 180 million
comin' in here today.

- Have you got it?
- EMPLOYEES: Got it, boss!

I want everything
and everyone back.

Safe and sound.

BULLET: Let's get goin', H.

JAN: What?

You don't like it?

How does someone like you
afford a place like this

and a $28,000 bike?

Credit card.

Calm down,
it's not in my name.

Return it.

Put the beers down,
grab your gear, and let's go.

Let's go!

BULLET:
That's the last drop-off.

- (SIGHS)
- What is it?

You know I like you, right, H?

Well, there's somethin'
I need to tell you.

About me.

I've got some friends.

I help 'em out.

They help me out
from time to time.

My pals,

I helped 'em get
into the cash truck game,

in a manner of speaking.

With me on the inside.

You get me?

Nah, Bullet,

I don't.

I tell them
which trucks to hit

and they hit 'em.

The two guards being killed
was necessary.

The boy was unfortunate.

But we're a winning team.

Militarily precise.

You with me now?

Yeah.

I'm with you 100%.

Continue.

For starters, there are
no bullets in your gun.

Secondly, I have to tell you,

they will kill you
if you don't comply.

So, do as I say,
and you won't get hurt.

And why do you need me?

We need somethin' super-sized.

So we can walk away for good.

We want the jackpot.

The depot.

You want me to get you in.

Then you can look
the other way.

When, Bullet?

Today.

There's no turning back.

And what's in it for me?

Your life.

Do we have a deal?

Yeah.

We have a deal.

BULLET: (ON RADIO)
We're on. ETA, two minutes.

Covers.

JOHN: Gamma, this is Base,
you copy? Over.

Base, this is Gamma,
we copy. Over.

Gamma, I've lost
camera signal in your truck.

What's happenin' there? Over.

BULLET: It's nothing
to worry about, Base.

I'm fixin' it as we speak.

JOHN: Copy that, Gamma.
Keep me updated.

This ain't the day
for this shit,

you understand me? Over.

Loud and clear.

I'll be in touch as soon as.
Over.

We're set.

(OVER RADIO)
Cameras are disarmed.

We have four minutes to load.

JACKSON:
We meet here at point A.

Warn our hero
not to get clever.

We'll need him to get inside.

After that,
if he twitches, kill him.

Just let 'em do their jobs,
okay?

JACKSON: (OVER RADIO)
Let me talk to him.

- (BEEPS)
- Hey, handsome.

Today is not the day
to be a hero.

There will be
no other warnings.

Am I clear?

Show me your hands.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

BULLET: Play the game, H.

(ZIP TIE FASTENS)

JACKSON: (IN DISTORTED VOICE)
If you're a good boy today,

you'll see tomorrow.

(ENGINE STARTS)

Then, we divide.

You, Brad, Carlos, and Jan
are in the truck.

Me and Sam
follow in the Escalade.

Be cool, H.

2411 returning.

Gamma, this is Base, go. Over.

All good?

Yeah, except for traffic.

DAVE: Dana,
come give me a hand.

- DANA: Yeah, no problem.
- Right.

Let's relieve you
of your burden.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Base, this is Gamma reporting.

All clear, Gamma.

You ready?

Ready.

JOHN: (OVER SPEAKERS)
Gamma 2411 to Bay 5.

That's the last one for today.

TOM: Once we get
past the gates,

it's only a question of time
before we're compromised.

There's too many guards
that we can't control,

so we keep it quiet
as long as possible.

JACKSON:
The men must be stealthy.

The longer their stealth, the
longer we live without drama.

Hey, Bullet. All good?

All good here, Supe.

TOM: (IN DISTORTED VOICE)
Move. Move. Now, move! Go!

OFFICER: Whoa... Whoa.
JAN: Uh-uh-uh.

Don't you
fuckin' make a sound.

Down on the ground.

TOM: Move.

MAN: Okay, I'm down.

JACKSON:
Tiptoe, tiptoe, tiptoe.

We secure the safe first.

That's Carlos and Jan's job.

TERRY: Okay, Dave, that's
all good and accounted for.

CARLOS: Hands in the air!

Hands in
the motherfuckin' air!

Toss your weapons
on the ground.

Slowly. Slowly.

Do what he says.
Do what he says.

CARLOS: Take that weapon out.
Slide it over.

Get over there!
Get on the fuckin' ground!

The fuck is wrong with you?

Grab your gun,
put it on the ground,

and kick it to me,
motherfucker!

- TERRY: David, please.
- You wanna be a hero today?

I'll put you on the front page

of every fuckin' newspaper
in America. Try me.

Get on the ground.

All the way!

Get your fuckin' ass
on the ground!

Tie his ass up.

- (ZIP TIE FASTENS)
- JAN: Behave yourself.

- Hey.
- STUART: What's up?

Yo, I need you to sign this
birthday card for the boss.

Bring it up here
and have a look at this.

This will make you laugh.

JACKSON: You, Jan, and Brad
will take the control room.

- Bullet is hostage and shield.
- Shh.

If that doesn't work,
we blow our way in.

BRAD: (SOFTLY)
Keep it fucking quiet.

(KNOCK ON GLASS)

JAN: Open the gate.
MAN: Whoa.

(ALARM WAILING)

ARMOURER: Bob?

What the fuck is goin' on?

JACKSON: The keypad
will present a challenge.

The men that operate
the armory are hard-boiled.

They will not be scared
of pulling the trigger.

At some point, they'll resist.

JAN: Open the gate,

or I'll blow
his fuckin' head off.

You have three seconds.

One!

Two! Three!

Okay! Putting the gun down!

JAN: Open the gate.

ARMOURER:
The keypad is out there.

JAN: You use the keypad.

ARMOURER:
It's on security lockdown!

You use the fuckin' keypad!

BRAD: The rabbits have run,
number one.

JAN: Two, breach the gate.

At some point, we're gonna
come under heavy fire.

They got long guns,
they're gonna use 'em.

Here you go.
Here, take this, chief.

So, we'll need
ballistic plates.

JAN: This is your last chance.

I'll blow his head off.

Bob, open the gate, or they're
gonna fuckin' kill me!

Bullet, get down!

Holy shit!

BRAD: Set!

(GRUNTS)

CARLOS: Nobody fuckin' move!

Number three, what's goin' on?

BRAD: Don't do it!

(YELLS)

JOHN: Jesus fuckin' Christ!

ARMOURER: Now!

TOM: Move now! Move!

(MEN GROANING)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

(SCREAMS)

- (GUNFIRE STOPS)
- (ALARM CONTINUES WAILING)

- (BRAD GROANS WEAKLY)
- TOM: Where are you hit?

Where are you hit?

Four is down.
Elvis, repeat, four is down.

JOHN: Oh, no! No, no, no!

No, Jesus,
sweet Mary and Joseph,

I swear to God! Please...

JAN: Mm, look at
this little piggy...

JOHN: Please, don't.
I got kids, please. Please!

JAN: What do we
have here, huh? Motherfucker.

- JOHN: Don't hurt me! Please!
- (ZIP TIE FASTENS)

- (INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
- (ALARM CONTINUES WAILING)

Enough of that.

(ALARM STOPS)

(JOHN WHIMPERING)

Elvis, come and play.

OPERATOR: (ON RADIO)
...a bike from an open garage.

Officers have now located
the suspect and the bicycle...

JACKSON: One, sweep
the rest of the building.

JAN: Copy.

JACKSON: Five, are we good?

TOM: Clear, Elvis. Move in.

OFFICER: (ON RADIO) Traffic
stopped on Highland and Third.

- (HEAVY BREATHING)
- CARLOS: Welcome to the party.

These three are hog-tied.
The guap is in here.

And another three guards
in the back.

OPERATOR: Fortico, reported
robbery. SWAT alerted.

JACKSON:
SWAT have been alerted.

(RADIO CHATTER
CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

OPERATOR:
SWAT has been notified.

All units, please respond.

JACKSON:
Once the alarm sounds,

black-and-whites will be
on scene within minutes,

but they cannot
enter the building.

Even if they could,
they wouldn't dare.

However,
they are not our problem.

We will have eight minutes
until SWAT arrives.

(SIRENS WAILING)

We can punch through
the black-and-whites

with an 18-ton cash truck,

but the SWAT truck's
a different story.

We cannot get pinned down.

We gotta get out
before they seal the exit.

We're eight minutes out.
Eight minutes out.

STUART: We have men down.
Send backup right now!

This is an emergency.

They have
heavy assault weapons,

and they have body armor.

- Men are down.
- SWATMAN: Hold your positions.

- STUART: Just get here now!
- What's going on?

Get in! Get in!

- We're callin' SWAT!
- I'm not waiting for SWAT.

We have a protocol.
We wait for SWAT.

No, no, no! We gotta go now!

Wait!

JACKSON: Two,
wait until we're loaded,

then join three in the truck.

CARLOS:
Nose to the fuckin' ground!

Did I stutter?

JACKSON: Load the van, three.
I'll get five.

CARLOS: Fuck is goin' on
out there?

SAM: There's some
fuckin' guard out here.

Someone shoot this fucker!

- (GUN FIRES)
- (GROANING)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

Fuck! Please! Please!

Shots have been fired!
Shots have been fired!

(SIRENS BLARING)

Seven minutes out.

Fuck!

JACKSON: Clear!

(PANTING)

(GROANS WEAKLY)

(PANTING)

No, fuck this! I'm goin' out!

(SIGHS)

Listen, the alarm's gone.
We should just wait for help.

What do you want us to do?

You can do
whatever you fuckin' like.

David, no, listen to me,
they got body armor.

That gun will do nothing!

And this is not your money.

Now, let's go.

Let's fucking go! Go! Go!

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

SWATMAN:
We're six minutes out!

JACKSON: One, four is down.

I repeat, four is down.
Do you have eyes on three?

(PANTING)

Three, respond.

(FIRES GUN)

JACKSON: Who's firing?

OPERATOR: Copy that, Adam.
All units are advised...

JACKSON: Three is down.

We've got a rat on the loose.

OPERATOR: Intel suggests
multiple armed suspects.

JACKSON: Elvis is leaving
the building.

- (PRESSES BUTTON)
- (BEEPS)

TERRY: David, just put
the gun down and hide.

The SWAT team, they're on
the way. They're on the way.

Well, if someone
comes down the hallway,

I'm gonna
fuckin' shoot 'em, Terry!

There's no need to...
There is no need.

TOM: I'm making my way
to you now, Elvis.

- TOM: Fuck!
- (GASPING)

Come on out
and you won't get hurt.

Come on! Come here!
I'm not gonna hurt you!

(GRUNTS)

(TOM YELLING)

- (GRUNTING)
- JACKSON: Come on! Fuck! Move!

STUART: Send SWAT.
Send choppers.

Bring someone in
right the fuck now!

- Here. Take this.
- (GASPS)

(SIRENS CONTINUE WAILING)

- (BOTH GRUNTING)
- (GUNSHOTS)

Listen, man down.

(BREATHING RAGGEDLY)

(GASPS DEEPLY)

JACKSON: Stay down!

(SIREN BLARING)

- MAN: Four minutes out.
- We're four minutes out.

(BOTH CONTINUE GRUNTING)

(GRUNTS, PANTS)

(BOTH STRAINING)

(WHIMPERING)

(GUN CLICKING)

(GRUNTS)

TOM: No!

(GASPING)

(MUFFLED GUNFIRE)

- (DAVE GRUNTS)
- David, you all right?

(MAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY
ON RADIO)

(TERRY PANTING)

(GROANS SOFTLY)

JACKSON:
We're sitting ducks here.

(COCKS GUN)

Stuart. Give me a gun.

It's fucking jammed!

Give me a gun!

Thank you.

- DANA: Bullet, what the...
- (THUDS)

BULLET: Clear!
JACKSON: We gotta move!

JAN: Come on.
JACKSON: Get up. Move.

(BRAD GROANING)

JACKSON: We got two minutes
until SWAT is here.

JAN: Elvis, in the truck!

JACKSON: Clear!

Stay with me. Stay with me.

JAN: Get in the truck.

JACKSON: Step on it.
Come on, come on, come on.

(ALL GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

- (YELLS)
- DAVE: Fuck!

(YELLS, GROANS)

JAN: Four is down!

(GROANS)

(GRUNTING)

Hey, Boy Sweat!

It's Bullet!

DAVE: Bullet?

Come give me a hand.

Bullet, what the...

(MUFFLED POLICE SIRENS
WAILING)

OPERATOR: On fence perimeter
of Fortico.

- You good?
- We're good. Let's go.

TOM: Once the truck is loaded
and we're all in,

we punch through
the black-and-whites.

Exit right.

They and the choppers
will be in pursuit,

but there's nothing
they can do to stop us.

OFFICER 1: Oh, shit!
They're not stopping!

- Fuck! Get eyes in the sky!
- OFFICER 2: Heading west!

OFFICER 1: Let's go!

(SIRENS WAILING)

OPERATOR: (OVER RADIO)
That's a 136

south of Mateo Street
along the highway.

Fuck!

- (RADIO CHATTER CONTINUES)
- (GROANS)

TOM: From here, it's two
klicks to meet at rendez point

to enter building D.

The gates here will stop
any immediate intrusion.

OPERATOR: Heading south
on 405. We have visual.

We have four birds in the sky.

Air units in the vicinity.

OPERATOR 2:
Nine-Henry-zero, affirmative.

That doesn't change a thing.

Just stick to the plan.

Get ready.

(TIRES SQUEAL)

JACKSON: We will have five
minutes until SWAT breaches.

They will think we're trapped.
They will shoot to kill,

but we won't be there.

And there's no way
that they can know

about this access tunnel
underneath the basement?

JACKSON: No, this doesn't
come up on any blueprints.

They stopped printing this
back in '57.

OFFICER 1:
We have 'em surrounded.

SWAT has arrived on scene.

SWATMAN: A-team, let's go!
Into position.

(GRUNTS)

- How you doin', Sarge?
- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)

Gonna make it.

Get back there
and finish the job.

OFFICER 2: We are stationary
and setting up a blockade.

Awaiting further orders.

Go.

That's the last of it.
Let's move.

OPERATOR: All units,
you are cleared to fire.

OFFICER 1: Roger, dispatch.

OFFICER 3: Eighteen seconds.

Okay, I'll get the boss.

- (GROANING)
- OPERATOR: All units

are advised
to watch out for assault.

Targets have intent to kill
and are heavily armed.

- JAN: Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- (GRUNTING WEAKLY)

Not gonna need that,
are we now, Sarge?

(JACKSON PANTING)

(GRUNTS WEAKLY)

(STRAINED GRUNTING)

(JAN GRUNTS)

(JACKSON CHOKING)

(KNIFE SWISHES)

(JACKSON CONTINUES CHOKING)

(JAN GRUNTS)

(JACKSON EXHALES)

(JAN EXHALES DEEPLY)

JACKSON:
We all understand the risks.

Some of us won't make it.

If there is
a last man standing,

it's his job
to take care of the families.

TOM: I wish I was confident
that will happen,

but my only concern is Jan.

Strange things happen to men

when they smell
that much cash.

He's a soldier.

In the end,
he'll follow orders.

(PRESSES BUTTON)

Where's the sarge?

He's not comin'.

What do you mean,
"He's not coming"?

I mean he's fuckin' dead,
Bullet!

TOM: From here,
we load the Can-Am quads,

ride three more klicks
to the silver Prius,

load the cash under cover.

And whoever's left
takes the construction pickup.

- Uh-uh-uh-uh.
- (GASPS)

Too fuckin' slow.

(GRUNTING)

SWATMAN 1: All right, team.
Move in. Weapon ready.

SWATMAN 2: Copy!
SWATMAN 1: Eyes on the truck.

SWATMAN 1: Suspect
still in vehicle. Moving in.

SWATMAN 3: Move!
SWATMAN 1: Go!

What the fuck?

Alpha Command, come in.

We got one dead suspect.
The others are fuckin' gone!

We need more bodies
down here.

- Shit.
- There's tunnels everywhere.

Captain.

There's a network
of underground tunnels.

It's like a fucking rabbit
warren down there.

MAN: We need more air cover
on East Terminal Island.

OPERATOR: Ground support,
set up a blockade

on Vincent Thomas Bridge.

MAN 2: This is Hunter 45
with the FBI.

MAN 3: We need
more air support up here.

OPERATOR: Victor 365,
cover over Seaside Freeway.

MAN 4: 737,
we do not have visual.

We need more eyes in the sky.

OPERATOR: Copy that.
Additional air units inbound

covering Long Beach dock.

Entering industrial unit
on Terminal Way.

MAN 5: We need
more choppers up here.

There are tunnels
coming out everywhere.

(RADIO CHATTER
CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

(POLICE SIRENS WAILING)

(EXHALES)

(FAINT, MUFFLED MUSIC PLAYING)

(CELL PHONE VIBRATES)

(PRESSES KEY)

(MUFFLED MUSIC
CONTINUES PLAYING)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC CONTINUES
ON CELL PHONE)

H: Ain't you gonna answer it?

- (CELL PHONE BEEPS)
- (MUSIC STOPS)

(SWITCH CLICKS)

(TOSSES CELL PHONE)

What do you want?

You here for the money?

I don't want the money.

I want you to read this.

(SIGHS)

"Bullets A-1 and A-2

"entered the right lung,
causing collapse.

"Bullet B-1
penetrated the liver,

"and B-2 ruptured the spleen.

"Bullets C-1 and C-2
lacerated the heart.

"Cause of death,
blood loss and trauma.

"Manner of death, homicide."

H: In summary,

the liver, the lungs,

the spleen, and the heart.

What the fuck do you want?

I want your liver.

- Aah!
- (GLASS SHATTERS)

(WHIMPERS)

(GROANS)

Fuck...

(JAN GRUNTS)

Your lungs.

(COUGHS, GASPING)

Your spleen.

(STRAINED GROANING)

(SIGHS DEEPLY)

By the way,

his name was Dougie.

(GUNSHOT)

(SHELL CLATTERS)

AGENT: Are we done?

We're done.

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull