All language subtitles for The Hitmans Wifes Bodyguard 2021 EXTENDED

Tonight in London,

we have the night of nights.

Damn, there is so much talent
in this city.

The Triple-A rated
Bodyguard of the Year Awards.

Now, these awards are given out

to members of the executive
protection industry,

those that carry
the Triple-A rating.

It is the badge of honour.

Who you most excited
to see tonight, Mike?

Oh, my God.

I mean, there is only one

white-hot favourite here, Steve.

And this bodyguard
has had a tremendous year.

His track record is untouchable.

He has had the best client list,
the best evasive car manoeuvres,

the best gun-handling skills.

Christ, he even has
the best hair.

And he actually insists
his clients wear seatbelts.

That's how safe this guy is.

He's the bodyguard that needs
no introduction.

Michael Bryce is
the clear favourite this year.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to

the 63rd annual
Executive Protection Awards.

So without further ado,
the final award

for the Triple-A
Bodyguard of the Year.

And the winner is...

..my personal hero.

Michael Bryce!

Yes!

What?!

- Well done, Mike.
- Wow!

Oh!

-What?!
-Good job!

Wh...what?

Oh, wow.

Oh! So heavy!

Whoo!

Wow. Uh, I just...

I just...

I just want to, um...

I just, um...

Darius?

Kurosawa?

Michael-san.

Tick-tock, motherfucker.

And how often do you
have this dream?

Just once...

-Oh, that's not too...
-..a night.

-Right.
-Mostly when I'm asleep.

It's what my life
was supposed to be.

I was the perfect
executive protection agent

until I lost it all...

..when Darius Kincaid killed
my most important client.

Darius Kincaid.
Is he a relative of yours?

God, no!

He's a hit man wanted for, like,

a zillion murders
around the world.

Which is why,
when I protected him

on a dangerous trip
across Europe

so he could give evidence
at a war crimes trial -

even took a bullet for him,
I might add -

the Bodyguarding Committee,
they wouldn't...

..they wouldn't recognise it.

Apparently they don't take
kindly to protecting sociopaths.

So in two weeks, I have to go
in front of a tribunal

and try to get my
Triple-A rated licence back.

To deal with the future,

we sometimes have to
deal with the past.

Now, is there anything
you want to talk about

from your childhood, perhaps?

And my childhood would be
relevant how?

Well, quite often
validation issues

stem from a disapproving father.

I don't have validation issues.

I have a licensing issue.

I am a bodyguard
without a licence.

That's like being a...
a belly dancer without a torso.

What are you thinking about
right now, Michael?

I'm thinking about
the fact that you're seated

six feet away from
an exposed window with

multiple sniper nest positions
on the building opposite,

most likely on the eighth floor.

The additional height
gives the marksman an advantage.

I'm thinking about

the closest available weapon
to me right now -

the letter opener/
stabbing instrument

on the desk to my right.

What are you thinking about?

I'm thinking you need to forget
bodyguarding for a while

and find happiness within.

Within what?

Within yourself!

Happiness in who you are.

I'm listening.

Well, first things first -

I think all the guns
and violence are...

..weighing on your soul.

So you need to get away
and clear your mind

and then you can find
your future self.

Wait, wait, like...

..like a cool...

..futuristic bodyguard
with superpowers?

No. Will you stop...

Stop thinking about
bodyguarding.

Do you have
a dream vacation at all?

I've heard Italy is lovely
at this time of year.

So, how about Tuscany?

No, not Tuscany. No Tuscany.
Anything but Tuscany.

OK. Uh, Capri then?

Capri?

Like the pants?

Also, a lot clients
find it helpful

writing journal letters
to their future self.

Or recording voice memos.

What if I call him?

I could leave him
voice messages.

I have my phone with me
all the time. Joanne...

This is great.

I feel like we're making
really great progress here.

So do I. Yeah.

And don't feel like you need
to check in with me again.

I mean, this is very much
your journey now.

My journey.

You've graduated therapy.

Graduated?

Repeat after me.

No bodyguarding.

N...no...

-..buh....
-Bo... Bo...

..rodyguarding.

-Good!
-Mmm.

-And no guns.
-No guns.

Wait. No, no.
Hold on. Can I, uh...

Can I keep my penknife, though?

-Yeah, you can...
-Very functional tool.

I use it for a variety
of different things.

Just you
and your future self

finding happiness within.

Those are the only two people

that you need to be
protecting right now.

-OK?
-OK.

I can't believe
I graduated therapy!

-I know! Congratulations.
-It's really...

Jesus Christ!

Fuck!

After two years
of crippling EU sanctions,

Greece's economy has
spiralled into freefall,

causing mass demonstrations,
civil unrest...

And today
outside the EU headquarters,

tensions run high.

With the expected announcement

of yet further
crippling sanctions,

Greece's future
hangs in the balance.

We now cross live
as the head of the EU,

Mr Walter Fiscer,
will announce his decision.

In four days' time,
at the end of the fiscal year,

the European Union will impose

further economic
and financial sanctions

on the nation of Greece.

There will be no questions.

We are moving Mr Fiscer
to the extraction point.

Prepare the helicopter.

Today's announcement
of further sanctions

has led to mass rioting
on the streets of Athens

with thousands of protesters
causing widespread damage.

Walter Fiscer,
the head of the EU,

has been reported missing
amid...

Did you know that Greece

is the motherland
of civilisation?

Walter Fiscer's administration
has overseen...

She gave the world art and...

..science, culture...

..and tragedy.

Aristotle...

..if this is about
the decision...

-You must reverse it.
-There is no way.

It was a democratic vote.

Greece gave you democracy.

I was an orphan, abandoned.

Greece took me in,
gave me everything.

There is nothing I can do.

I swear on my family.

Please!

Contact Carlo
and initiate the plan.

What plan?

You have suffocated my country,
Mr Fiscer.

But mark my words...

..in four days' time,

at the exact moment
your sanctions will commence,

all of Europe's infrastructure
will burn.

Financial markets will collapse.

And millions of lives
will be lost.

While Greece will return to

her rightful place
as the centre of civilisation!

Hello. You've reached
Michael Bryce.

Please leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

Hey there, future Michael.

It's today Michael.

I'm not great at
first impressions.

I just wanna say that

I think you'd be proud to know
that I graduated therapy.

I'm officially on sabbatical
and, to be honest,

I don't know why
I didn't do this sooner.

It's only been 12 hours,

but already, the world
feels more abundant,

as if somehow it's been waiting
for me to make this change.

I think about my licence

and I ask myself, "What was I
so worked up about?"

In fact, for the first time
since Kincaid killed Kurosawa,

I'm starting to imagine
a life without bodyguarding

or guns or blood.

I know this sounds crazy, but...

this really feels
like a new be...

Let's go, 'Breese'!

-Vamonos, vamonos, vamonos!
-Oh! No!

Whoa! Hey!

What's going on?! What the...

-What's happening?
-Come on!

I know you! Don't I know you?

I'm Sonia Kincaid.

The Mafia took my husband.
We have to go get him.

No, no, no. I'm not
getting involved in this.

I'm under strict
psychological orders that...

How'd you find me?

Where the fuck is he?

Hold on a second.

Finally Darius isn't haunting
my dreams, alright?

I'm not doing this.

If you don't help me,

I am gonna put my strap-on on

and I'm gonna fuck your dreams

until they wish
they were your nightmares.

Motherfuckers!

First of all, your mouth
needs an exorcism.

Second of all,
why does he need my help?

He said, "Get Michael Breese."

-He said that?
-Yes!

-I thought he hated me.
-Come on, let's go!

You are vile!

What did he say exactly?
What was Kincaid's tone?

Who gives a fuck?

Come on, let's go! Get on it!

Move, move!

Take the gun.

No, I'm not doing guns
right now.

Are you kidding me?
"I'm not doing guns right now."

I don't
sound like that.

You useless fuck!

Jesus! I got it.

Hurry up!

Pedal to the metal
and stay away from my boobs!

Jesus Christ!

Whoa! Wait! No, no, there's
gotta be a safer way down.

There's gotta be a safer way,
maybe like a switch... OK.

Really? Oh!

So, where is he?

They took him from me, Breese.

We were gonna go
on our honeymoon

finally, after all these years!

We've NEVER had a honeymoon!

We were gonna take a road trip
through Italy.

I always dreamt of it, you know?

Ay, everything was going to be
so romantic, so perfect,

and then this fucking hijo de
puta cucaracha motherfucker

took off on the most exciting
moment of our first night

of our honeymoon.

The next thing I know,
the phone rings

and he's been captured
by the Mafia.

Baby, I need help!

But he's a workaholic, Breese.

I KNOW he took
a motherfucking job!

Oh, he is a monster.

I just want him to provide me

with the stability that we need
to start a family.

Did you say 'family'?

You dumb fuck!
We're trying to have a baby.

May God have mercy
on our souls.

We have fucked so hard

and so tenderly.

And in so many different places
and positions and...

Mmm. Mm-mm.

And I just haven't
gotten pregnant.

You know what I think
the problem is?

-Biology.
-Yeah.

Mi diamante is too tight.

Your what?

-My pussy, motherfucker.
-Oh.

My pussy's just too tight.

And since Darius uses all his
testosterone in his macho shit,

the whiny sperm
abort the mission

halfway up my pussy pipe.

-Goddamn it.
-Goddamn it!

Hi.

I'm going to be
such a good mother.

I can't imagine...anyone gooder.

Do you have pepper spray?
I'm on sabbatical.

Good evening, gentlemen.

Who's that?

Your mysterious boss?

The client we never get to meet?

Not your concern.

Your concern is
the demonstration.

So please...

..demonstrate.

Data junctions are always
encased in tungsten carbide.

The only thing harder...

..is diamond.

There are thousands of
data junctions across Europe,

each of them located by
classified coordinates.

The bigger the junction
you wish to hack,

the bigger the drill
you will need.

Then it's just
a matter of uploading

my custom-built
Phantom H7 virus,

selecting the radius
of the attack,

weaponising everything
connected to the grid,

crippling every computer, GPS
and wi-fi system in the region.

Target locked.

Bye-bye.

Satisfied?

It's perfect.

Very.

Kill them.

Copy that. Target locked.

The city of Zagreb has woken

to absolute chaos this morning

after a high-velocity surge
wiped out a five-mile radius

of its power grid.

The climbing death toll
has now reached 75.

Early reports suggest

that a freak lightning strike

on a data junction was to blame.

What?

No, I need round-the-clock
surveillance

on my informant
right fucking now.

Mr O'Neill.

Superintendent Crowley.

With half of Greece
in a state of anarchy,

I hope you have
a very good reason

for pulling me out of
a UN security summit.

Goddamn right I do.
Seen the news?

The damage to the data tower's
in line with a lightning strike

and I'm inclined to agree.

Does this look like the victim
of a lightning strike to you?

It also looks like
Gunther Von Weber.

He's wanted in 16 countries
for hacking, infiltrating

and undermining the world's
most secure cyber systems.

Hey, Ivan Drago.

Where'd you find this body?

What'd you say? What'd he say?

Said he found
it next to the data tower.

What the fuck did you just say?

He found him next to
the data tower.

Oh, next to the data tower.

Where are you
going with this?

My Italian informant called
and specified there was

a large-scale cyber attack
in four days.

Mr O'Neill, you have been
warned repeatedly

that it's against protocol

to deal with unsanctioned
criminal informants.

Listen, I have been
in Europe for a month, OK,

and the only thing you people do
is watch fucking soccer.

Not one bar carries Sam Adams.

So the least you could do is let
me do what we do in Boston, OK?

We work with the bad guys
to get the worse guys.

This was a trial run,

and Carlo has been asked
to buy the next coordinates

tomorrow night in Portofino.

Alright, what do you want?

I want an office,
I want a SWAT team,

I want an unlimited budget.

And if I solve this case,

I want you to send me
back to Boston.

I'll give you 24 hours
and a surveillance van.

I need a translator.

You can have mine.

I was hoping
one that spoke English.

Keep an eye on him.

Hmm. What do they call you?

Ailso.

'Asshole'?

Ailso.

It's a traditional
Scottish name.

Alright, William Wallace.
Warm up the chopper.

We're going to Italy.

Darius Kincaid.

A little birdie told me
that you were in town.

Remember me?

Your old pal, Carlo.

I remember killing

a bunch of motherfuckers
who worked for you.

I remember that too.

Now I'd like to introduce you
to my friend,

the butcher of Terracina.

This reminds me of the spa
back at the hotel.

Really?

Not at all.

These are the tiny cockheads
that are holding my cucaracha.

Wait - who were the guys
back in Capri?

They were so rude, Breese.

Can you believe one of them
grabbed my ass?

Whoa, whoa...

Oh, my God.

OK, let's blast this motherf...

Whoa! Whoa, whoa. OK, look. No.

You go in there guns blazing,

they're gonna get
trigger-happy inside,

then it's bye-bye, Darius.

He asked for me. He needs me.

So we're gonna do this my way.

That means no killing, no guns,
and no blood.

Boring is always best.
Understood?

Of course not. What...

Jesus Christ!

Fuck.

Yoo-hoo!

Hello, boys!

I got a little lost.

Hello. You've reached
Michael Bryce.

Please leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

Hey, future Mike!

It's me!

Listen, I know
the Bodyguard Review Board

would not look favourably
on this, but, uh...

..but I had to take a sabbatical
from my sabbatical.

Something's come up
beyond my control.

Anyway,

I'm not bodyguarding.

I'm just helping this guy out.

Because... One sec.

He's still alive.

Because the alternative

is his even scarier wife

sodomising my dreams.

That's really gonna get in
the way of my transformation.

Do I love what I'm doing
right now?

Absolutely not.

Still alive.

But I think you'd be
pretty proud of me

for staying true to my journey.

Talk to ya soon.

What have you done?

These fuckers got
a little bit too fresh.

I specifically said
no killing, no blood

and no guns.

I'm NOT on sabbatical.

Where is your shirt?

Deal with it!

Baby!

♪ I've been alone with you
inside my mind

♪ And in my dreams
I've kissed your lips

♪ A thousand times... ♪

Uh...hang on.

What the fuck is he doing here?

I believe it's pronounced
'thank you'.

-For what?
-For saving your life.

Again and again and again.

I never asked you to save shit!

Baby, what in the absolute fuck
is Michael Bryce doing here?

You said,

"Baby, get me Michael Breese!"

What?

No! No, no, no, no, no.
I said...

Baby, I need help.

Get anyone...

"..BUT Michael Bryce."

What? Didn't he save
your cucaracha's ass?

Doesn't mean I gotta be
best friends with him.

He is the most annoying
motherfucker on planet Earth.

Excuse me!

I have 20/20 hearing.

I can hear you.
The dead guys can hear you.

And what do you mean,
I'm the most

annoying motherfucker
on planet Earth, huh?

How many times have you
nearly got me killed?

Not enough!

Come on, baby,
let's get out of here

before he starts the in-flight
safety demonstration.

Are you using pepper spray?

I'm on sabbatical.

And, uh, I'm trying to find
my spiritual awake...

..awake...

Motherfucker,
you wouldn't know chi

if you fucked...

Hey!

I didn't have to be here,
you know.

I...I had fresh cucumbers
on my eyes!

I had a linen robe with
an insanely high thread count.

It was like sleeping in a cloud!

Namaste, motherfucker.

Darius?

Well,
this is just precious.

Will you stop whining?

The hit man, the
bodyguard and the con woman.

You dumb fucks
just killed Carlo,

the informant that was gonna
punch my ticket home.

Who the fuck are you?

Interpol Agent Bobby O'Neill.
That's who the fuck I am.

And I know who all three
of you shitheads are.

Michael Bryce.

Triple-A rated bodyguard.

Pillar of the community.

Present, thank you.

Only I know you lost
your licence to protect

when Shotgun Willie there
killed Kurosawa.

No, no, that's under review, OK?
Kincaid took that shot...

Moreover...

..you're still taking clients.

Name...one.

The Sultan of Mandara.

Brussels.

Your Majesty, I'm Michael Bryce,
your executive protection agent.

Contact, contact!

That's a felony, pal.

Fucking Brussels! Fuck!

As for you two,

you're looking at about
a billion years in prison.

But today's your lucky day,

because instead of going
to the electric chair,

I'm gonna give you
a shot at redemption.

Now, I got intel
on a mystery big shot

that's about to launch
a full-scale cyber attack.

Carlo, my now-dead informant,
was gonna buy a hard drive

containing the coordinates
of the attack.

Why are you looking at me?
I didn't touch Carlo.

But now, thanks to your
bloodbath, that can't happen,

so you assholes
are going to Portofino

and you're gonna
make the buy instead.

Uh, Bob...quick sidebar?

Listen, uh, first off,

I'm happy to postpone
my sabbatical

if it's gonna keep me outta
jail, but I think, you know,

you should really reconsider
working with these guys.

I don't wanna go to Portofino.

'Cause they're, you know...
fucking crazy.

Fuck! Wow!

OK, cum-for-brains.

You are gonna be
the goofy bodyguard

for Carlo's British mistress

while grumpy pants here

makes sure that hard drive
gets out.

Are we clear?

We could take the money
and run, baby.

I'm tired of running,
Darius.

Ah, Superintendent Crowley.
How...how nice.

Mr O'Neill. Time's up.

No, no, no. I'm working
a strong lead here.

There's been a robbery
at a shipping port

and our intelligence suggests
it may be related to this case.

You've been reassigned.

If you could just give me
24 more hours...

-I said, "Time's up."
-Yeah.

Fuck!

I don't wanna go to Portofino
as his bitch!

This was supposed
to be my honeymoon!

What if somebody's upstairs?

Shut up.

OK.

-Slight change of plans.
-Yeah.

I've been assigned another lead,

but that does not change what's
going on right here, OK?

Now, Sean Connery here
is gonna give you

a bunch of money
to make the buy.

And if you don't understand
what she says,

well, welcome
to the fucking club.

What?

You're gonna fist
Kincaid's glory hole?

Hey! Nobody touches
Kincaid's glory hole.

That's my job.

I don't think anyone
should have that job.

See that?
It's your buy money.

One dime goes missing, you
try to go AWOL, and I'm gonna

slap global red fucking notices
on all your asses.

Oh, no!

Red notices? What are you doing?
Not on me!

What is this, a Nokia? I don't
know how to work this thing!

-Look at me. Look at me.
-I'm looking at you.

You stay in close contact
with me, you understand?

-I'll call you all the time.
-Shut up.

When I call, you answer.

And you, resources
are kind of low.

I want you to enjoy
your transportation.

Do not fuck this up.

Oh, we are DEFINITELY
going to fuck this up.

I mean, look at the two people
you're saddling me with.

Get your asses
to Portofino!

Zero chance we're making it
out of this room.

He may as well hire
a brain-damaged kitten.

The fucking honeymoon
is over!

I understand some people

get cold feet
on their wedding day,

but I would have never thought

that you'd get cold dick
on our honeymoon night.

Baby, baby, I said I was sorry.

Sorry's not good enough!

I want an explanation.
Where the fuck were you?

Where were you, Darius?
Just tell her.

I took a job, OK?

-Fuck you!
-Hey, hey!

Fuck you, fuck you!

Now's a good time to talk
about the seatbelt rule.

Perhaps now's a good time

to talk about the
shut-the-fuck-up rule.

I'm just saying it because she's
driving like a crash test dummy.

Do not criticise
my wife's driving, motherfucker!

Hush, hush, hush!

Do you know what
I just realised?

I'm not gonna let you crazy
motherfuckers ruin my shit.

I'll treat this as a
lovely road trip through Italy

and I'll just pretend that you
are still my devoted husband.

I am!

And you, Breese, you will be...

You will be the human luggage.

Yes. We are now on honeymoon.

First of all, it's a mission.

Second of all -
and just so we're clear -

I promised my therapist
no bodyguarding,

so I'm not protecting
either of...

This is not mission!
This is honeymoon!

What the fuck?!
Hey, eyes on road!

Eyes on road!

Babies need to be created
in a stimulating environment.

I must be aroused
by sightseeing,

shopping, fine dining.

But we are officially
on honeymoon.

-For real?
-Did she say 'fine dining'?

Let's not do that. Guys, let's
just focus on the road here. Oh.

Alright.

I got it.

No, it's fine. You guys just...
You guys have at it.

Maybe feather the brake a bit.

Maybe feather the brake a bit!

Yo, let me borrow your phone.

-Why'd you lie to her?
-Fuck are you talking about?

You lied to her back there.
You weren't on a job.

And how would you know that?

Because there's, like, 22 body
indications when somebody lies

and you exhibited...40.

If you say one word
to Sonia about this,

I'll invent new ways
to kill your ass.

Wow.

You must have done something
really serious, Darius.

Honesty's the best policy.

I don't take relationship advice
from single motherfuckers.

I don't have a calling plan.
Make it quick.

Yeah, I was just
wondering if I could...

I took a job, OK?

Portofino has water views,
which means it's perfect for...

-Oh, shit.
-Where you going?

Sonia! What the fuck?

You better hope that job's
worth it, motherfucker!

What job?!

Who the fuck is this?

We have an availability
for 'Carmen' at 2pm.

Who the fuck is Carmen?!

Uh, tickets to
the opera 'Carmen'.

And you wanted two, no?

I love 'Carmen'!

I love 'Carmen'!

♪ Si tu ne m'aimes pas... ♪

What's that thumping?
I can't stop.

My head is beating.
What is that? Huh? What?

It's this idiot.

Are you people...fucking insane?

Hey, watch your mouth!

I picked you up from the street,
saved you from sunstroke,

and now you're
calling me insane?

Sunstroke?

You could go to jail
for leaving a dog in a hot car.

And don't even get me started on

the psychological ramifications
of what I heard you two doing.

- Oh, goddamn!
- Is that Valentino?

No, it's mine.

Did...did you spend
the buy money?

Come on, they totally expect us
to spend SOME of it.

No, no, obviously...

..I'll cover it
with my life savings.

I think that's a great idea.

-Just gonna make a call.
-Wish I had some life savings.

Hello. You've reached
Michael Bryce.

Please leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

That little mission we're on?
Well, we're...

We're way off course.

Can't even see
the course anymore.

Or hear it, for that matter.

Uh, my ears are still ringing
from...

..from ferocious
sexual intercourse

leading to a rolling
quadruple climax.

Anyway, I'm venting.

I don't wanna vent to you, so
I'll catch up with you later.

Oh, shit!

Who were you talking to?

It's a secret.

-I know your secret.
-You do?

You are so lonely that
you were talking to yourself.

Hah!

Listen, Breese, you really
hurt my feelings.

Do you really think I am crazy?

No!

I think you're...
unusually aggressive, violent,

but in an unpredictable way.

I would make a great mother.

Don't you think
I'd make a great mother?

Oh, my God, a child would be so
lucky to have you as its host.

Thank you, Breese.

Thank you.

It must be your...

..powerful asexuality

that makes you
such a good listener.

Please step away, miss.
This is a military crime scene.

Jesus Christ.
Swing the fucking bat.

Ahh!

Let me guess.
Crowley gave us a shit lead.

No-one will tell me
what was inside.

It was a classified
military shipment.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

What are the fucking odds?

Seems lightning strikes twice.

We need to get
that packing slip.

How do you propose
we do that, Mr Bobby?

We need a distraction.

What?

Jesus, what the fuck
are you doing?

Sonofabitch.

Last time I saw
something like this,

Bruce Willis was drilling
a hole in an asteroid.

Bobby, I'm glad you called.

Listen, it's
a diamond-tipped drill.

And I know there's a link, but
this drill was fucking massive.

You were right.

We picked up some chatter
in our Rome office.

The Mob are making a buy
in Portofino.

They're purchasing
classified coordinates

of a large-scale data grid.

We've got a surveillance team
there...

-We have a team in Portofino?
-Yeah, moving into position now.

Get the chopper.
Get the chopper.

Oh, Bobby?

If this actually turns out
to be what you say it is,

I will personally make sure

you get your transfer
back to Boston.

Oh, ma'am, I can't thank you
enough. Thank you so much.

Thank you, ma'am.

We're going to Portofino!

Let's get
into character.

I'm the bodyguard.

Now let's hear the British
accent of Carlo's mistress.

My British accent is perfect,

you fucking cunt.

Let's skip the British accent

and go straight to being
brutally executed.

How's the sight line, D?

Mm-mm.
Just protecting my asset.

We're here to see Vladimir.

I'm the bodyguard.

Security check.

Two minutes out.

Crowley's got a team in place.
We gotta call off the buy.

If she finds out I've got those
shitheads working for me...

He's not answering the phone.

What did I tell him?
Burner phone. Pick it up!

-Here you go, sir.
-Thank you very much.

Great work.

Yeah!

Yeah. Yeah!

-Oh, shit!
-What's wrong?

Just a former client.
It's fine - he didn't see me.

You must be Vladimir.

Carlo sends his regards.

He thought I would attract
less attention.

Well, he thought wrong!

But nobody's complaining.

Sonofabitch.

You have the security feed yet?

Getting it now.

Don't move till the buy is made
and they're out of the club.

-There's too many civilians.
-Roger that.

These are the classified
coordinates

to the entire
European data grid.

OK?

No, no, no, no, no.

These are proximity paired.

Until the buyer's fingerprint
disarms the bracelet,

I suggest you do not
let the briefcase

out of 5-metre radius
for more than 15 seconds.

If you do, bracelet explodes.

Keep it close!

It will be a shame
for that beautiful face

to be disintegrated by TNT.

The fuck?

I should just pop
this motherfucker right now.

-Address?
-Oh, the delivery address!

In Florence.

You will deliver
to the buyer tomorrow

at the Ludovico Gallery auction.

Ah, I love Florence!

I adore galleries
and museums and culture.

Michael Bryce!

You have me confused
with someone else.

No, no, I'd never forget
the face of

the man who saved my life
in my darkest hour.

Come on, bro!
Let's do some blow together.

Michael Bryce?

Didn't he lose his licence

when Kurosawa was killed?

No, no, he's got me mistaken
for someone else.

I told you,
it's Michael Bryce!

For the record,
that's pending review.

Fuck off!

Hey, guys, it's Michael Bryce!

Why would Carlo hire
an unlicensed bodyguard

to protect the love of his life?

Right! You're fired.

You're fucking fired!

Oh, that's true, baby.

Carlo always has preferred
younger women.

Excuse me?

I've seen him with
a woman in her 30s,

but never this old.

Never!

No, no, no, no.
No, no. Don't...don't laugh.

- Here it comes.
- Old lady, right?

What the fuck did you just say,

you finger-licking shit monkey

donkey-blowing motherfucker?!

That sounded really Mexican.

Shit.

We have a problem.

This is a fucking set-up.

You don't fucking say,
vape juice!

Get that case off her.

Get me Carlo on the phone!

And here we go.

Shit!

Clear the room.

Let's go. Move! Move!

Breese! The gun!

Feel like giving me
a hand, Kincaid?

Triple-A, my ass.

All Interpol
agents, you are authorised.

Shoot to kill.

Interpol. Get the fuck out now.

Shit. Shit!

Greatest night of my life!
Aaggh!

Breese!

Fuck!

Breese! The case! Come on!

Bitch!

Get back!
Get out of the way!

Move! Move!

Say my age, bitch!

Oh, no, no!

Breese, I'm famished.

-Shall we go now?
-Still Mexican.

Breese!

Get to the fucking dock now!

Breese! Breese!

Get out of the way! Move! Move!

Breese, my baby, wake up!
Stay with me, Breese!

This way.

This way! Come on!

Out of my fucking way, please!

Target heading for the water.

- Let's go!
- Go, go, go, go!

Breesey!

No, no, no,
you can't die on me, Breesey!

You're the only one
who understands me!

Baby...

-Come on, Breese!
-Baby!

-Come back to us!
-Baby, he's gone.

Don't say that!

You'd better say something nice
about my Breesey.

Michael was...

..very careful.

Yes, he was.

He loved seatbelts.

He did love seatbelts
so very much.

Mm-hm.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

We will never forget the time
you spent with us.

That was beautiful.

You should have been a priest.

OK, let's toss his ass in
and bounce.

What in the absolute fuck
is wrong with you people?

-Hey, we gave you a sea burial!
-A sea burial?

Well, you didn't have
a heartbeat!

I'm wearing fucking Kevlar!

These were your operatives.

I've never seen them before.

Only one number
called this phone

that Michael Bryce
was in possession of

and it was yours.

We have less than two days

before this attack happens.

-Two days.
-I gave you a chance.

You went behind my back

and you employed two criminals

and an unlicensed bodyguard

and now they're in possession
of critical evidence.

For all I know, they could be
in on the cyber attack.

They're not in on the attack,
trust me. They're idiots.

Did you know about this?

-She had nothing to do with it.
-Yes, I did.

Put out a global red notice
on Darius Kincaid,

Sonia Kincaid and Michael Bryce.

We have a problem.

Three unknown fugitives
escaped with the coordinates.

Interpol were
all over the scene.

Seems that we have a rat.

Get me Carlo on the phone.

Sir, Carlo's dead.

We have 48 hours
and every moment that goes by,

the proud men and women
of Greece

fall lower on their knees.

Only two people
knew about the buy.

Carlo...

..and you.

I swear
I would never betray you!

You are a Trojan horse!

Find the fugitives. Kill them.

I need the briefcase.

What is that?

Interpol has issued red notices

for the hit man, a con woman...

Where did they get that picture?
That's terrible!

..and a reckless
unlicensed bodyguard.

That is pending fucking review.

See, that's what we get

for trying to help
these motherfuckers.

You know, fuck 'em! Can we go
finish our honeymoon, babe?

With explosives on my wrist? No!

We're taking this shit
to the mystery big shot

so my uterus can relax.

-Are you coming?
-Oh, I'm coming.

We need to prevent this cyber
attack so I can clear my name.

I got a PR disaster and this is
gonna take a long time...

- I wish he had died.
- I heard that!

Ah, fuck.

-What's wrong?
-You can't be serious.

-About what?
-My ribs are broken.

I came down with
a little case of

12-gauge shotgun to the chest.

-Remember?
-Hey, Breesey, don't worry.

Sonia's gonna take care of you.
This will make you feel better.

-Thank you.
-There you go, baby.

The auction of artworks

by the reclusive
Greek shipping billionaire

is believed to be the last
of a long line of assets

he's liquidated
outside of his homeland.

It is unknown
what his motivation

for selling up in Europe is,

but analysts are calling it
'financial suicide'.

Ooh, that is
one helluva security detail.

- Holy shit! Magnusson.
- Who?

Only the Triple-A rated
Bodyguard of the Year

three years in a row!

They give
you motherfuckers awards?!

Yes, they give us awards and we
have conventions and everything.

Ain't no award for hit man.

It's called 'lethal injection'.

God, look at him.
He's so strong, confident.

-He's like a panther.
-Let me see this motherfucker.

Ooh, shit! Zento!

That is a good motherfucking
hit man right there.

Took a lot of business from me.

-Find yourself a nest.
-I'm gonna take the tower.

Whoever wants this briefcase
is a serious high roller

'cause Magnusson's fee
is astronomical.

Releasing the package.
I want everyone on high alert.

And bingo.

Oh. That is awful.

It's like Liberace
banged a set of curtains.

You know that dude?

I'm not sure.

Magnusson,
three pigeons on the rooftop.

Let me see this motherfucker.

-They have the stolen briefcase.
-Take the shot.

Oh, shit! Zento! Gun!

Get Aristotle
to safety now.

Scatter and converge.
Get that case!

They won't know we have
five possible escape routes.

They have five possible
escape routes.

Should've used a decoy.

It appears
they have no decoy, sir.

- My God, they're amateurs.
- Alright, let's go!

Come on!

If you'd listened to me,

we'd have
an extraction vehicle waiting!

These idiots don't even have
an extraction vehicle.

Bryce, get to the van!

Go! Now!

Move it, Bryce!

Magnusson recognised me,

which means
he probably knows my moves.

I don't recognise
any of these losers.

- Shoot to kill.
- Bryce, we gotta go!

Just a moment!

-Got it! Go!
-Let's go!

♪ Give me a lifetime of promises
and a world of dreams

♪ Speak a language... ♪

Parrot is loose.
Keep it in sight.

Breese, watch out!

♪ Mmm, it can't be wrong... ♪

Wow!

Wow, this guy's handling skills
are actually incredible.

♪ You're simply the best... ♪

I just wanted to say
it's an absolute honour

to be engaged in a car chase
with someone of your skill set.

Thank you.
I really appreciate that.

Steve McQueen
ain't got shit on you.

I think that's the first time

you've ever said
anything nice to me.

♪ You're simply the best. ♪

Bryce! Bryce!

Get in the car, Darius.
Go, go, go!

Bryce, what the fuck?!

Move, motherfucker!

What the fuck did you give him?

Just painkillers.

But he's so fucking delicate.

Parrot is flying west.
Keep it in sight.

Oh, no!
Not the stairs, motherfucker!

I'm not wearing a sports bra!

-Ah!
-Jesus, this guy's a lunatic.

This is no fucking honeymoon,
motherfucker!

This is shittymoon!

I'd say we had
a pretty great fucking day!

-Are you fucking kidding me?
-Shopping.

Wine-tasting.

Yeah, with someone else's money!

Flowers.

Mamma mia!

One bird
still remaining in flight.

♪ Fucking opera! ♪

And you fell asleep,
motherfucker!

Good afternoon. I'd like to
offer up a ceasefire.

Oh.

You hand over that briefcase

and I'll gladly
undo that bracelet.

Sure.

Bugger me.

Ah, that's the end
of Breese's idol.

Parrot's flying south.
Get the case.

Oh, no, por favor!

When I say "now",
crack your door.

And...

..now!

Oh, fuck!

Oh!

-Ah!
-Oh, fuck!

Oh, my God! I'm gonna die!

-Oh, my God!
-I got you.

I got you! Calm down!

Argh!

Oh, yes!

Shit.

Oh, you gotta be
fucking kidding me!

What the fuck?!

Dive!

Did we lose them?

No, you didn't lose them!

Oh, shit!

Oh, shit!

Sonia!

Get the fuck back in the car!

Are you trying to
get rid of me?

Swinging out the fucking car?!

Motherfucker's reloading.
Take the wheel.

Argh!

What are you doing?

-Hang on, baby!
-Darius!

Oh, fuck!

Ooh.

They didn't wear
their seatbelts.

The three
fugitives responsible for

a nightclub shootout
in Portofino last night...

Phone call for you, sir.

..and are believed to be hiding
somewhere in Italy.

Our world news correspondent...

Yeah?

Sir, I'm sorry to inform you,

but the three fugitives
managed to escape.

..police search for disgraced
bodyguard Michael Bryce,

international con woman
Sonia Kincaid...

When you find them,
I want them alive.

♪ You're asleep, little Breese

♪ Can you please
wake the fuck up?

♪ In your slumber,
think of Sonia

♪ And the bomb
that's on her wrist. ♪

Hey! What the fuck
were those pills?

-It's just lithium.
-Lithium?!

Baby, lithium's not
pain medication.

It's to manage my stress,
Darius, and stress IS pain.

Breesey, you want some more?

Don't you
come anywhere near me.

I've had it with you two.

I'm sorry to say this, Sonia,
but you are crazy.

Hey, hey, hey, motherfucker, you
can't talk to my wife that way.

Why not?
She'd make a terrible mother.

I wouldn't leave a Chucky doll
in her care.

You need to apologise to Sonia
right the fuck now.

Oh, fuck this.
"You gotta apologise..."

What, are you gonna
shoot me now?

Father of the Year right here.
Can't wait.

Hey! Hey, where you going,
motherfucker?

I said, "Apologise!"

Well, I'm just gonna
ride the lithium out. Whoo!

Fuck.

Hello. You've reached
Michael Bryce.

Please leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

Future Michael, I'm really lost.

Give me a sign.

Your service
is currently out of range.

Goddamn it. F...

Now those two psychos
are trying to ruin my life.

Babe, you alright?

I'm great.

I mean, our honeymoon
is a delicious fuckery.

I don't have a foetus
in my womb,

but I do have
a bomb on my wrist.

In other words, this lifestyle
that you dragged me into

has made me a horrendous mother

of the children
we don't even have.

In other words,
this is all your fault!

How the fuck is this my fault?

Now, if I remember,
I didn't meet you

at no goddamn debutante ball.

- What?
- Took a bullet for him.

Took a bullet for her.

Yeah, old Bryce is just

everybody's favourite
little bullet caddy, isn't he?

OK, game on. Come on.

Give me a sign.

Any sign.

Please.

OK, that is a sign, it's just
not the one I'm looking for.

Anything. Anything at all!

I see what you're doing. I...

You wanna play ball?
We're gonna play ball.

Take some responsibility
for your shit!

Sonia, it ain't
my goddamn fault!

- Hey.
- You're really making me...

- Hey!
- What?

I said some awful stuff
back there

because I was involuntarily
administered lithium.

Apology accepted.

I'm not apologising. But I know
someone who can help us out.

Is this like that gun thing? You
can't press doorbells either?

It's just I haven't spoken to my
father since I lost my licence.

So, you're admitting
you're unlicensed.

You don't understand.

He's the greatest bodyguard
who ever lived...

..and I'm just...me.

What are you doing?
What are you doing?

Fuck!

Alright.

Mr Bryce out back.
He chop the wood.

He be a moment.
I'll get you some water.

This Triple-A shit
is a family fantasy.

Hey, Papa.

I never imagined
I'd be coming home like this.

I always thought it would be
under different circumstances.

As I'm sure you know, my...
my licence is under review.

I'm sorry for being
such a disgrace.

We really need your help.

Out there in the world, you're
an unlicensed protection agent,

but here...

..here you are my son

and this is your home.

What the fuck?!

Aww!

Just chill.

I'm trying to have a long
awaited moment with my dad.

I get it. You're freaking out.

-He's...he's...he's...
-A legend. Yes.

That's weird for you,
but, to me, he's just Papa.

No, I'm freaked out because...

Because his voice is
so deeply rich in its timbre?

Yes. It's remarkable,
but a lot of people sound...

No, motherfucker,
it's not his voice.

-It's the fact that he...
-Is a published author?

Huh? What is it, Darius?

Spit it out, 'cause, frankly,

it's exhausting to hear you
beat about the bush.

-'Around', Junior.
-I'm sorry?

The expression is
'beat around the bush'.

- Interesting.
- It's 'around'.

-Sorry, I'm...
-I know who you are.

I watch the news.

Hello, my dear.

Nice to meet you,
Mr Breese father.

-My pleasure.
-You have a lovely son.

Can we have it removed?

Well, we'll do our best.

-Giuseppe?
-Yes, sir.

Make arrangements
for a safe house

and the necessary equipment
to unlink a TI-47.

When the fuck were you gonna
tell me your dad was black?

Stepdad. And I fail to see
how that's relevant.

Why don't you start seeing with
your heart instead of your hate?

-Yeah.
-Relevant? Heart? Hate?

What the fuck
are you talking about?

-You know exactly what I'm...
-Alright now, boys, boys...

-I'm sorry, Papa.
-No bickering under my roof, OK?

-Understood.
-Who's hungry?

-I can eat.
-Good, good.

-Hungry?
-I'm a little peckish.

These are all the bullets
Dad's taken for heads of state.

Ooh, impressive.

Nothing like taking a bullet
to make you feel like a man.

-Yeah, I've taken 20 myself.
-I took a bullet.

-Yeah?
-Yeah, for...for Darius.

I saved his life. Right, Darius?

Breese took a bullet
for my husband at The Hague.

He was very brave.

Check it out. Right there.

Bryce,
that looks like a freckle.

He also took a shotgun blast
for me last night.

Well, actually,
well, I was wearing Kevlar.

Kevlar? Real Triple-As
never wear Kevlar.

Course, knowing Bryce
and his trusty penknife,

he'll have the danger
all taken care of

before it even gets to that.

You...you laugh,
but countless heads of state

have been taken out
by the penknife.

No-one sees it coming.

Ah, yes, Elena's gelato.

Best gelato this side...

Bryce?

Excuse me a moment.

Bryce.

Bryce?

What's wrong with him?

It's the gelato.

I forgot. It's a trigger.

Why?

All of Bryce's memories
are with his mother.

She used to call him
her 'little bodyguard'.

Every Sunday, she would take
Bryce to the amusement park.

But it wasn't the rides
he was interested in.

It was the gelato.

Oh, yes.

Bryce weighed the pros and cons

of rocky road
versus lavender fig.

It seemed endless.

Then what happened?
Did he choose the wrong flavour?

No, my dear.
Fate chose his mother.

To this day, I have no idea

why a full-figured
290-pound Italian man

wanted to ride the Paratrooper.

Truth is, I don't wanna know.

Some things
are best left unsaid.

And Bryce,
well, he chose to blame himself.

That's why he loves seatbelts.

Still doesn't explain
why he's so annoying.

You're annoying.

Hi. Hi. Hi.

-Are you OK?
-I'm fine. I'm fine.

-Do you want me to push you?
-No, no, no, no, no. Thank you.

I just... I cry sometimes
when I'm awake, so...

Your father told us
what happened to your mother.

Ah, if I'd just ordered
peach gelato a minute sooner,

she'd still be alive.

It's my fault. My bad. I get it.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
It's not your fault.

You cannot blame yourself.

I mean, it's perfectly normal
to feel guilty.

I understand you
better than you think.

My mother was eaten by a shark.

You know, seeing your mother
being devoured by a beast,

it can really traumatise you -
more than you can think.

But my God, has it done
a number on you, honey.

I mean, you are fucked up
in more ways than I can count.

-Now it all makes sense...
-Yeah.

..including your obsession
with my boobs.

What? I'm sorry. Did you say...
With your boobs?

I've never thought about
your boobs, not even once.

Come on,
you're obsessed with my boobs.

Jesus Christ, alright.

When you saved me, you
very gently cupped your hands

and pushed me by the boobs
to save me from the bullet.

Not a lot of alternative
real estate there.

I could hear the little boy
inside of you, screaming,

"Mommy, please don't die!
I need you!"

I don't think
that's what I was screaming.

I don't sound like that...
at all.

If it makes you feel
any better...

It doesn't.

..I cannot eat gelato either.

Right. Doesn't make me
feel better. I don't care.

I'm lactose-intolerant.

I still don't care, so...

I'm gonna head back inside.

I think they're serving,
um, self-esteem.

OK. Hey, this was great.
It was really, really great.

To get to the safe house...

Excellent. Excellent.
Thank you very much.

So, we just go up here
and make a right.

Good news. My contact says
everything is all set.

We'll have that TI-47 off you
in no time.

Meanwhile, I'll sort
everything out with Interpol.

Sonia. Let's let 'em have
a moment together.

Bryce...

..I'm...

..sorry about the gelato.

Hey...

A lot of guys lose their licence
and never come back.

Look at you.
You're gonna be a hero.

I'll come down to the safe house
and see you

after I've got
some more information.

I'll also have a talk
with the review board,

see to it
you get a good hearing.

Thank you. Thank you, Dad.

No worries.

Oh, Bryce...

Take the Jag.

The Jag?

The one I wasn't even allowed
to look at as a kid?

You've earned it.

♪ Oh, baby

♪ Uh, uh, what did I do?
Oh, baby... ♪

Oh!

Damn, I love
this motherfucking car.

-Yeah!
-But you love me more.

-Ooh, baby!
-Whoo!

I'm in love with love!

♪ Sweeter than honey, girl

♪ You can brighten up
my day... ♪

Can we just acknowledge
for one second

that not only are we safe...

..but I think I'm gonna
get my licence back,

all because of my father.

I'm so happy for you, Breese.

Baby...

There's something I've been
meaning to tell you.

I...

What?

You know, I think I'm gonna
join Dad's agency.

"Bryce and Son".

That sounds...

A little cotton mouth. Whoa.

Sounds... You guys just can't
keep your hands off each other.

This feels familiar.

I don't spend that
much time with my head in bags.

You think maybe once
you could spot the ambush?

- Oh.
- Watch my hair, motherfucker.

No way! Mags!

Huge fan!

Are you seriously dick-riding
right now?

100%. He's my hero.

I'm thinking about
getting into vaping.

Seems like
the right thing to do.

What in the A-double-money-sign
is that?

Aristotle Papdopolous.

My little souvlaki.

My sweet bougatsa.

My darling.

I thought
I had lost you forever.

So many sleepless nights.

So long have I wandered in
a maze of despair.

Uh, anybody wanna tell me
what the fuck's going on here?

Monaco.

A girl who had lost her way,

turning tricks with wealthy men
at craps tables.

But when she met
a mysterious Greek man,

he taught her
there was more to life.

A life of art,

literature,

dance and passion.

She learned to appreciate
the finest things in life.

But when the cheap decking
aboard his megayacht

snapped
her beautiful Gucci heel,

fate took another turn.

She was found by fishermen.

She laid in bed for weeks

and when she finally woke,
she had amnesia.

Now seeing your face

and listening to your voice
so closely to my ear,

it all came rushing back to me.

- You've cured me.
- Mm.

Can you put the hood back on?

You got history
with this motherfucker?

And if I'd known earlier

it was you who had my case,

I would have ensured

you were treated
like the Aphrodite you are.

Thank you.

- Have these two...
- Oh.

..brought to Lucas and Francesco
in my torture chambers.

Torture chamber?

-Did he say, "Cha-cha chamber?"
-No, motherfucker, he did not!

Perhaps one day

you'll learn that great men
don't need to stoop to vulgarity

to express themselves.

Oh, I know how to express
myself, motherfucker.

-Take them away.
-Believe me.

I have not begun
to express myself.

Do we have separate
torture chambers?

The final piece
of my master plan -

to win justice
for Europe's atrocities.

Take it to the technology centre
and have my yacht prepared.

Come with me.

I have something to show you.

The room we dreamed
of building together.

Oh, amazing.

Yes, I had it completed
after you disappeared

in the hope it would be
a beacon for your return.

You ever think that...that
maybe she's conning you?

What?

I'm just saying,
she's a con woman.

That's what con women do.

Con person? Person?
I don't know how you say that.

Could you guys come back
a little bit later?

We're in the middle of a...

You're gonna tell us
everything you know.

Oh, my God.

I'm not telling you
a motherfucking thing.

You can taser him
all the fucking live-long day

and he won't say a goddamn word.

So, you never had a family?

You were my only true love.

You have suffered so much.

He can go all day with that.

You can electrocute him all day.
It'll only make him angrier.

-Hoo!
-Mm-hm. Yeah.

Wait. I, on the other hand,
will tell you everything.

I'll tell you everything
if you just keep...

-Really?!
-Yeah.

Sonia showed up.
I was on vacation.

Oh, motherfucker!

She said Kincaid was in trouble
and then Interpol came.

I don't even know where
those guys came from.

The guy's name
was Bobby O'Neill.

Probably Robert O'Neill.
That guy was mean.

The point is that
he wanted us to make a buy.

I don't even know what a buy is.
That's, like, a drug thing?

I mean, that could be anything.

Is that Francesco or are you...

Let me down!

Let me down, motherfucker!

It is insensitive of me
to show you this

considering your condition.

-My what?
-Carlo was an associate of mine.

When he found your husband,
he was at a fertility clinic.

-A fertility clinic?
-Buying fresh eggs.

I assumed...you were barren.

Sir, we have a situation.

Remind me
never to tell you shit.

-Well, we're free, aren't we?
-Yeah, fuck it.

Let's go save my girl.

I don't know if I buy
this whole amnesia thing.

All this sudden hating on Sonia.
She fucking loves you!

I'm not hating on Sonia.
I'm just saying...

I just reminds me of something,
you know?

It's like a book or a movie
or something.

Please don't fire a gun
in a cave!

Motherfucker,
you didn't get tased. Shut up.

Huh! I guess we'll find out
what a mace will do.

Oh, that's...that's decorative,
I think.

What is it?
It's gonna drive me crazy.

'Overboard'!

Kurt Russell, Goldie Hawn.
She gets amnesia.

Oh, I feel so much better!

Oh, bullshit.

Whoa, shit! I wanted to keep
that fucking mace.

-Sonia! Sonia! Sonia!
-Hey! Stop yelling!

Hey, you're gonna
get us fucking killed.

-There she is! There she is!
-No, no, no, no.

-Sonia! I'm coming to get you!
-You lied to me.

-What?!
-The night of our honeymoon.

-You didn't take a job.
-Are we really doing this now?

You went to a fertility clinic
to buy fresh eggs

because you think
mine are rotten.

Baby, you can't buy eggs
at a fertility clinic

like a grocery store.

That motherfucker's
lying to you!

Do you want a life on the run

or do you want
the stability of a family?

Goodbye, Darius. It's over.

-Baby, no.
-We gotta go. We gotta go.

-Darius...
-Sonia, Sonia! Please!

Let's go!

♪ Is an angry thing

♪ It'll tear your heart
to pieces

♪ And love,
such a crazy thing

♪ It'll break you down
when you least expect it

♪ Thought I knew about love

♪ Mm, I've been deceived... ♪

Maybe she's playing him
to play you, you know,

like a triple cross.

There's
no fucking triple cross.

If that's the lifestyle
she wants

and he can give it to her,

more power to him.

I got no money in the bank,

Interpol's always in my ass

and I'm a hit man
shooting blanks.

Wait, wait, hold on. Wait, what?

Not bullets, motherfucker.
Sperm.

I got shot in the nuts
on a job

and I never told Sonia about it.

You don't have testicles?

No. I mean yes!
Yes, I have testicles.

The right one, Kool & the Gang.

The left one, Fugazi.

So, my swimmers
aren't strong enough

to get across the finish line

so I can give Sonia what
she wants most in the world.

I told you,
just be honest with her.

None of this would've happened
if you were honest with her!

That shit always leads to an
ass-whippin' or a jail sentence.

I'll see you when I see you.

Where are you going?

Hey, Darius!

Darius!

Dad, there was an ambush and...

What's the Jag doing here?

You are the dumbest motherfucker
I have ever met.

Wow. That, uh...

I handle
Aristotle's security detail

while he's in Italy,
you moron.

You...you work for the bad guys?

A Triple-A puts his clients
ahead of God, family

and certainly a pantywaist
such as yourself.

You are a cruel son of...

Ah! Arrgh!

Oh! God...

I would turn you in,

but that would be an admission
that I think you're a threat.

Oh, and, Bryce,
I spoke to the review board.

They agreed with me -
you're barred for life.

My real dad would never
treat me like this.

Your real dad. Bullshit.

Nobody knows
who your real dad was.

Your mother was -
how do I say it? -

intensely social.

Wow.

Now, get off my trash.
You're a stain on my legacy.

♪ Well, I don't mind
sleeping alone

♪ If it means I don't have to
play your crazy games no more

♪ You're the most precious thing
I've ever seen

♪ But I ain't gonna let it slide

♪ When you're mean to me

♪ I know the love that I deserve

♪ And I hope you find yourself

♪ Before I find somebody else
to be my love

♪ I hope you find yourself

♪ Before I find somebody else
to be my love... ♪

Ugh. Ugh!

Ugh! Ah!

Out of all of gin joints in all
the world, you walk into mine.

My dad screwed us. He's
Aristotle's head of security.

Also, he really hates me.

I owe you an apology, Kincaid.

You know, your thing
really is better than my thing.

No more Mr Nice Bryce.

I wanna be a bad-ass,
you know? I wanna be loose.

Hey...we should do some coke!

Motherfucker, you would OD on
a baby aspirin and a diet soda.

I wanna speak
to Darius Kincaid, please.

Is there a Mr Kincaid here?

Who's asking?

-His fucking wife, motherfucker!
-Your wife.

What the fuck do you want and
how the fuck did you find me?

I found you 'cause
they found you, motherfucker.

There's a kill team
coming your way,

so you better get
the fuck out of there.

And how dare you give me
attitude

when I am risking
my hot ass over here

so that we can have
our fucking honeymoon.

And what about all that shit
in Monaco?

Oh, come on, Darius,

you know how many men I'd
conned before you came along?

-I never had amnesia.
-For real?

How could you think for a second
that I would leave you?

I can't imagine
my life without you.

Baby, look,

I didn't go to a fertility
clinic because of you.

Baby.

I think you can't get pregnant
because of me.

I lied to you because I know
how much you want a family

and I didn't wanna
disappoint you.

You went to that clinic

so I didn't have to confront
the fact

that my tick-tock
has ticked its last tock.

Would've been nice
to have a family.

We can adopt!

Oh, yes, baby!

You will be
the BEST father, baby.

I mean, look how good
you've been for Breese,

this dysfunctional,
abandoned poor child.

His father obviously hates him.

I mean,
he doesn't have any friends.

And you, you've been
nothing but a ray of sunlight.

I love you so much,
Sonia Kincaid.

And I'm coming to rescue
your ass.

I love you more than ever,
mi cucaracha.

But you better hurry the fuck up

because this motherfucker
is crazy!

He's going to destroy Europe
to save Greece.

He's drilling into
Viarregio's data grid tomorrow

while he escapes on his yacht.

You have to stop him.

Get the fuck down!

Whoo!

Bullets are allergic to me...

Motherfucker, you were
not born to say my lines!

Darius? Darius?

So, how does it feel
to lose the one you love?

I, for one, did not sleep.

The pain was, uh...

..so immense.

Amnesia?

Really?

Do you think I haven't seen
the film 'Overboard'?

Kurt Russell, Goldie Hawn.

A minor classic.

My security has already
exterminated your cucaracha.

And you will die alone
and without a family.

No-one in this world
can kill Darius Kincaid.

That motherfucker is unkillable.

Whoo!

Oh! Car chase.

Oh, shit!

♪ You want it all
the way... ♪

You've reached Michael Bryce.

Leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

-Hey, future Mike. It's me.
-Fuck!

Are you seriously making
a phone call right now?

Oh, shit!

I feel like my spiritual journey
is almost complete.

But now I realise...

..safety's for losers!

Whoo!

The old Bryce, he is long gone.

I'm driving
without a seatbelt now.

♪ Now it's too much to lose... ♪

It's a crazy thing that happens

when you...
when you lose everything.

Shit!

You got nothing left to lose.

♪ It's like war! It's like... ♪

You know, it's like Tim McGraw
always says...

Tim Mc-fucking-who?

You gotta live like
you were dying.

Arrgh!

That is the lamest shit
I have ever heard in my life!

I'm at the event horizon, baby.
I mean, I feel truly...

-Nobody's after us. Slow down.
-..and completely free.

Bryce, Bryce, Bryce, come back.
Come back.

You don't...you don't
have to go this fast.

No, not just, like,
symbolically free

but, like, truly and absolutely
100% free.

I'm like a bird.

Fuck.

It's OK!

My knees, head and skin
broke the fall.

Ahh!

I'm OK.

I'm OK.

So, I'm gonna see my
dad and I'm...I'm really nervous

because all I want in the world
is for him to be proud of me.

And I think you, future Michael,

will be proud of me
for dealing with this.

I know I've said
a lot of things and...

Whatever the fuck
this future-Michael shit is,

it's got to go.

You ARE the future Michael,
motherfucker.

My dad called me
a stain on his legacy.

Jesus Christ, look, I get it.

You are a fuck-up, OK?

You got some fucking issues.

But you can't allow

a motherfucker you share not one
drop of DNA with to define you.

Something I've been meaning
to tell you.

When I got clipped
in the nuts...

..happened in Brussels.

Brussels?

I'm Michael Bryce, your
executive protection agent.

-Get down!
-Shots fired!

Contact! Contact!

Arrgh! Motherf...

I'm the one who shot you
in the nuts

and you never thought
to tell me that?

That's a W for me.
That's a big L for you.

Nah, it was a ricochet.

-Ricochet my ass, motherfucker!
-Ricochets don't count...

-It's an L for you.
-..unless you call 'em...

-Take the L!
-..motherfucker.

Despite the fact you get on
my last motherfucking nerve,

you're a pretty good fucking
bodyguard.

I'm never getting
my licence back. That's over.

My dad talked to
the review board. I'm done.

Fuck the review board,

fuck that motherfucker
you call Dad.

You don't need a licence.

What do bodyguards do?

They protect people?

And the whole of Europe needs
your protection right now.

Now, repeat after me -

I'm unlicensed
and I don't give a fuck.

I'm unlicensed
and that's terrible...

Ohh!

Ahh!

Again?

I'm unlicensed
and I don't give a fuck.

Louder.

I'm unlicensed
and I don't give a fuck!

Robust!

I'm unlicensed
and I don't give a fuck!

Now, let's go do what we do
and fuck some shit up!

Let's go fuck some shit up!

- Hands in the air!
- Nope! Wasn't touching it.

We're telling you
the truth.

Sonia told Kincaid

that Aristotle is drilling into
the data junction at Viarregio.

He's gonna upload the virus
in an hour.

Aristotle is too influential.
We won't get a warrant in time.

-Let us take him down.
-Come on.

We just got reports of drilling

at a location
in the centre of Viarregio.

What assets do we have
on the ground in that region?

The closest agent
is Bobby O'Neill.

Oh, fuck!

Perhaps it's time we do things
the Boston way.

Fine. Alert all local forces
and send them to that drill.

There's also a megayacht fleeing
for international waters.

Christ's sakes.

So, don't be the government
agent in the documentary

who has all the info on the bad
guy, then lets him go anyway.

-Don't be that guy.
-Woman.

I think that's implied.

What do you need
to stop Aristotle?

We need boats.

And we need guns.

That's my motherfucking
bodyguard!

-And we need them.
-What?

What are your names?

-Gary.
-Johan.

Gary, Johan, are you ready
to get your fuck on?

What?

That came out wrong.

Not together. With us.

That also came out wrong.

You're gonna get your fuck on
in an action context.

We have visual of the hit man
and the bodyguard

leaving port in a speedboat.

Deploy level one security.

-Go, go, go, go!
-Let's move!

Hey, Gary,
I think we're outnumbered!

No fucking shit, Johan!

Arrgh!

God, I hope
Gary and Johan are OK.

How the fuck did they even think
that's us?

Those motherfuckers
didn't hit nobody!

Well, it's called a decoy,
Darius. Bodyguarding 101.

My dad's gonna have
three levels of security.

-That was the first.
-Boring.

-Well, boring is always best.
-Get the fuck outta here.

I will turn this boat around!

What was it your boss
was saying about me?

"Outlandish conspiracy theories.
Tying up resources."

When O'Neill proves
himself right,

he gets a full police escort
and a SWAT team.

We're 30 seconds out
from Viarregio.

Copy that.

If we don't stop
the drill,

they'll upload the virus
and wipe out Europe.

Get down, get down!
On the ground!

Get down, get down!
Everybody down!

Everybody down!

Shut up! Shut up!

Stop, stop. He says
they're building pipes.

Pipes? What kind of pipes?

What kind of pipes? Shut up!

Wait, this isn't
a data junction.

What?!

It's a high pressure
sewage line.

- Shit!
- No!

It's not our drill.

Are you telling me
that we've sent

all our resources
to the wrong location?

The site manager here
is telling me

the type of drill
that was stolen from the dock

is a deep-sea drill.

They're not drilling on land,
they're drilling in the ocean!

It ain't Viarregio the town,

it's Viarregio
the ocean trench.

And guess what's down there.
Europe's central data junction.

What? What does that mean?

It means the fate of Europe

is in the hands of a hit man
and a bodyguard.

Who's unlicensed.

Divers in the water.

Deploying the drill now, sir.

Drill head descending.

100 metres.

First, my little taramasalata,

you are going to watch
Europe burn.

And then I am going to
dump you at sea.

But this time
without the necklace.

Captain, unidentified vessel
approaching us.

Is it hit man and bodyguard?

It can't be.

Level one security
neutralised them.

Hmm. Attend to it.

Yes, sir.

There's no-one here.
The boat is empty.

Buongiorno, motherfucker.

Decoys. Works every time.

Didn't you say there were
several layers of security?

Level two is gonna be
much more, uh...

Attention!

We have you
completely surrounded.

There is absolutely
no chance of...

Not very practical.

Well, can we skip
a couple of levels

and get to the hard shit?

Sure.

Sir, we have visual
of the data junction.

You take the upper,
I'll take the lower.

Ahh!

Ohh!

That's funny, your father
told me you weren't using guns.

Sabbatical's over.

Now, give me back my... Oh.

What sort of witchcraft
is that?!

Fuck!

Ohh!

Alright,
you ready for the show?

Huh? Huh?

Fuck!

That's OK,
they can be terribly slippery.

Arrgh!

Sir, we've made contact
with the data junction.

Initiating drill sequence.

Ohh!

You shoot like
my grandmother!

Is that the same grandmother

who shoots ping-pong balls
out of her ass in Bangkok?

I'm Japanese,
you ignorant geriatric.

-Look...just...
-Slight scratch.

-Slight splash.
-Oh...

-Boom!
-Shit! Arrgh!

Shit!

Magnum .44 has six rounds.

You have only one left,
cock fossil.

Fuck.

I can see around corners!

Through walls...

..and sofas.

Even your heat signature
looks old.

Kiss...my...ass.

Arrgh!

Arrgh!

♪ Cry baby, cry baby... ♪

Arrgh!

♪ I saw the sign

♪ And it opened up my eyes... ♪

You're lucky...you're lucky
I love this song.

♪ Into the light
where you be... ♪

Data junction compromised.

Commence upload
of Phantom H47 virus.

Virus upload initiated.

Estimated time - six minutes.

Sir, it appears that level one
were chasing a decoy.

Magnusson and Zento
will take care of it.

Kill her.

Come on, hit man!

Ahh!

Ahh.

Arrgh!

Arrgh!

Ahh!

Virus uploading.

Time remaining - five minutes.

Say hello to my little filos.

As his bodyguard,

I strongly advise
you put the gun down.

As HIS bodyguard,

I strongly advise YOU
to put the gun down.

I can't do that.

One phone call and the review
board renews your licence.

This is what you've always
wanted, son.

He's my friend.

He's my best friend. My BFF.

That's 'best friends forever'.

- Ahh!
- Arrgh!

Arrgh!

Ahh!

- Virus upload.
- Dad.

-Time remaining...
-Dad. Dad, Dad! Dammit!

-..four minutes.
-Are you wearing Kevlar?

Ohh!

Ohh!

Of course I'm wearing Kevlar.

I'm a 90-year-old man, Bryce.

What were all those stories
about, then?

Jesus. Ohh!

That was just to boost
book sales.

Arrgh!

-Ugh!
-Yah!

Ugh!

Huh?

Oww!

Time to die, you old cow.

Arrgh!

Puta de mierda!

Ugh!

Arrgh!

Arrgh!

Your father's got you right
where he wants you now, kid.

You're not my father.

Just some dude
my mom used to bang.

Ohh! Arrgh!

God! what are you doing?

That's making me pee.

It's called tradecraft.

- You're so spry.
- Virus upload.

Time remaining - three minutes.

Forget your training, Junior?

You forget who trained me.

Ahh!

- Arrgh!
- Motherfucker!

Ugh!

Arrgh!

Yah!

Guess we're at a stalemate.

I guess not.

Hello, darling.
Did you finish the con woman?

Her last words were that

she had something in common
with her husband.

We're both fucking unkillable.

Fuck! Arrgh!

Virus upload - two minutes.

Ohh!

Triple-A always has three.
Any last words?

Penknife's
a very versatile tool.

No-one sees it coming.

You...motherfuckers.

That's right,
papa dickless.

You gotta earn the right
to call us motherfuckers.

- Motherfucker.
- Arrgh!

Virus upload.

Time remaining - 50 seconds.

Not bad.

-But you failed.
-Virus upload.

-Time remaining...
-No, no, no.

There's gotta be a way
to shut this down.

This ship was rigged to explode
if you stop the virus.

Save yourself or save Europe.
Which is it gonna be, Bryce?

- Peach gelato...
- 30 seconds.

..or lavender fig?

We both know you were never one
to make a hasty decision.

-Were you, Bry...
-20 seconds.

Can we go on our honeymoon now?

We can be on our honeymoon...

10, 9...

..for the rest of our
motherfucking lives.

5, 4...

Oh, mi cucaracha.

1. Manual override.

-I love you...
-Run!

The EU wishes to express
our deepest gratitude

to the heroic efforts
and investigation of Interpol.

In particular, I want to commend

the valour and the courage
of agent Bobby O'Neill...

- Hey, O'Neill.
- Thank you.

Congratulations.

I still don't agree with your
methods. They're unorthodox.

But I must admit
you get results.

Oh, is that your way of
saying "I'm sorry"?

No. This is.

I'm recommending you
for a permanent position

in the European division.

Wait, what?

You get your own office,
SWAT team, unlimited budget.

If it makes you feel
any better,

I found a bar down the street
that carries Sam Adams.

Let me think about it
over a beer.

Ain't this a bitch?

We do all the work,

these motherfuckers
get all the credit.

Don't worry, baby,
I talked to Booby

and he's gonna make it up to us.

The hit man, the
bodyguard and the con woman.

You assholes look like shit.

Don't talk to us like that,
you cheesy fuck.

We're not your bitches anymore.

Relax.

I got you your little yacht
for your honeymoon.

Alright!

But you're still wanted.

So until Interpol clears up
the legals,

I need all three of you on that
yacht for the next 48 hours.

-Are we clear?
-No.

Uh, Bob, quick sidebar.

No fucking sidebar
or I'll punch you in your face.

OK.

Fuck it.

-And?
-Are you serious about that?

Deadly.

Youse are sicker fucks
than I thought.

Here, you. Sign there.

Wait, what is this? This is...

Hold on a second. You...

You guys got my licence back?

-Come on!
-I'll let her explain.

Enjoy your honeymoon, shitheads.

Oh, Breesey...

Thank you.

What's she doing?

My baby cucaracha,

you just signed
the adoption papers.

-The what?
-The adoption papers.

You are now our son!

Wait, what the fuck?!

Hello. You've reached
Michael Bryce.

Please leave a message
and have a Triple-A day.

Really?
That's your voicemail?

Listen, it turns out
it's gonna take more time

to get your asses
un-red-noticed,

so I need you on that yacht
for at least another month.

You know what? Maybe two.

Anyway, enjoy your sabbatical.

And say hi to your mom
and dad.

But don't call me! Ever!

Like, never ever!

- Oh, Darius.
- Oh, baby!

We finally get to make love
just for the sake of fucking.

Ohh!

We don't have to worry about
having a baby...

..we have our little Breese.

What are you doing?!
Oh, my God!

Oh! Sonia, what did you do?
What's that hip movement?

Oh, baby, that hip movement!

-Oh, that's new pussy!
-Oh, mi cucaracha!