All language subtitles for ffhfhf

(PEN CLICKS)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(OFFICE PHONE RINGING
IN BACKGROUND)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

VARGA: That's right.

Just a few more.

We're nearly done here.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(SIGHS)

(CELL PHONE BEEPING)

(GRUNTS)

-(PHONE RINGING)
-(SIGHS)

(SNIFFLES) Police.

Oh, hello, who have I reached?

Meeker County Sheriff's.

I'm looking for Gloria Burgle.

-Speaking.
-My name is Larue Dollard.

I work for
the Internal Revenue Service.

I am in receipt
of the documents you sent.

But I have a few questions.

Who is this?

Agent Dollard. IRS.

The envelope you sent was
addressed to me specifically.

You included a note.

IRS? I never sent
anything to...

Well, it has your name on it.

Look,
this is my last day, so...

Are you working a case
involving Emmit Stussy
or Stussy Lots Ltd?

How did you get this number?

Again, it was on
the note you sent.

Spreadsheets, uh, contracts,
loan agreements.

Not sure how you found me.

He's protected, I think,
Mr. Stussy,

possibly even
at the highest levels.

My investigation was kiboshed
last year from DC,

so, we should proceed
with the utmost...

Look, Mr. Dollard.
I don't know what to tell you.

We did have a case
involving Mr. Stussy but...

Well, that case is closed now.

Deputy, I'm looking
at evidence of a vast
financial conspiracy

involving blatant tax fraud

and the repurposing
of corporate funds
for personal gains.

It looks like,
in the last year,

Mr. Stussy has borrowed
upwards of $200 million

with the sole intent
of lining his pockets

and the pockets
of his partners,
a Mr. Sy Feltz

and one V.M. Varga.

Say that name again.

Uh, V.M. Varga?

I'm not sure
what the "V.M." stands for.

Don't move.
I'll be right there.

Oh, wait. What's your address?

Two hearts,

three clubs, four spades,

five no trump.

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

(DOG PANTING)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

VARGA: Last one.

There.

(SIGHS)

Well...

You should be happy,
Mr. Stussy.

Your first action item
is complete.

The accumulation of wealth.

I'm just so tired.

VARGA: It's perfectly natural.

You see it all the time
in the wild.

The smaller animal going limp
in the jaws of the larger.

Genetic instinct.

At some level,
food knows it's food.

(MUSIC PLAYING ON EARPHONES)

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Yes.

Oh...

The strategist.
I was wondering
when you might call.

Yes, I have it.

All of it, as long as you
live up to your end of the...

Fine.

The same charming locale?

No, I'm not familiar
with that address
but I'm sure I can find it.

Just so you know,

I will be coming
with what in military terms

is referred
to as a "fire team"
so no business...

(GUN COCKING)

-Back up. Back up!
-(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

My dear, I'm afraid
you'll have to excuse me.

EMMIT: Don't... Don't make me.
I'll shoot.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

I am not food.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

No, of course not.

You lied to me.

There are no hordes coming.
(STUTTERS) No mongrel hordes.

It's you! No!

Now, now, now. No.

Now, come on. (CHUCKLES)

Give Mr. Stussy some room.

He's earned the right
to be testy.

After everything
he's been through.

I'm done.

Give me back my papers
and get out!

Are you a fan of progress,
Mr. Stussy?

-Technology?
-No more talking.

You know, in the old days,
only the strong were rich.

It was all a question of
how much you could carry.

But then the Medicis
invented banks,

and wealth and pornography.

This is what
drives innovation.

Of course, technology has
other benefits as well.

Safety, for example,
a safer car,
the artificial heart.

And, well, how a handgun
might be equipped

with a fingerprint scanner.

To keep it from being used
by anyone but its owner.

That's right.

You can feel it, can't you?

On the grip.

Go on, have a look.

I'll wait.

Progress in all things,
you see.

(GROANS)

(GRUNTS)

(VARGA SNIFFLES)

All right, wipe everything.

We were never here.

-She called?
-Yeah, we have a stop to make.

(UPBEAT DRUMBEAT PLAYING)

(DRUMBEAT STOPS)

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

This is a mistake.

No trace, I'm afraid.

We need those drives.

Vamanos.

Swango.

Swango. (SPEAKING SPANISH)

-I'll go.
-No.

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

(SPEAKS SPANISH)

(BELL DINGING IN DISTANCE)

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYS)

El Nino?

Two elevators.

(ELEVATOR CLANGING)

(EERIE MUSIC PLAYING)

(DINGS)

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

(CHIMING)

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

(DINGS)

(ELEVATOR DOOR CLANGS)

(BELL RINGING)

(BELL CONTINUES RINGING)

(BELL CONTINUES RINGING)

(MUSIC INTENSIFIES)

(CELL PHONE BEEPING)

(BEEPS)

(SPEAKS FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

(GUNS FIRING)

(INDISTINCT YELLING)

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(CHIMING)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(RAILROAD CROSSING
BELL RINGING)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(DINGS)

(MUSIC INTENSIFIES)

(ELEVATOR DOOR CLATTERS OPEN)

(DINGS)

It's yours.

(FIRE CRACKLING)

(SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

(SIGHS)

(BIRD CALLS IN DISTANCE)

(ENGINE STARTS)

-(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)
-(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

What the shit?

Excuse me.

This is not...
You can't just...

Thank you so much.
Emmit, my dear Emmit.

How are you?

You look... (SMACKS LIPS)

Well, I know this can't be
easy for you.

You work for Varga.

All this time.

Like a fire door that leads
to another fire. (GASPS)

Emmit, you need to
listen to me very carefully.

The Stussy Corporation,
having sold all its assets
this morning to Realignment

for $100,000, and may I say,
very generous of you,

but your company is now
carrying a debt load of
over three hundred million.

You'll need to file
for Chapter 11 immediately.

But don't worry.

Your personal wealth,

the profits you've made
as a partner in this venture,

have all been
carefully hidden. So...

(FINGERS SNAPPING)

Not all bad.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Mike and Mike
will show you out.

GLORIA: And you're saying
this proves...

Until 18 months ago,
Stussy Lots was a traditional
real estate concern.

They owned two dozen parcels
around Minnesota,

ground and elevated lots.

They charged
a standard fee for parking,

monthly rates
and hourly meters.

Then the books show
a million dollar loan

from this company
called Narwhal.

As far as I can tell,
the corporate ID number
is fake.

So, four months ago,

new incorporation papers
were filed with the city,

adding V.M. Varga
as a partner at Stussy Lots.

British fella? About six foot?

Country of origin
isn't listed on the form.

But that sounds like the man
that I met.

So, are we talking about
money laundering or...

That's what I thought
at first, but no.

This is something different.

It's more of
a leveraged buyout
or bleed out,

in which an outside entity
acquires a healthy company,

borrows millions of dollars
in its name,

which is pocketed
by the partners.

Then they sell the company,

now laden with debt,
for a fraction of the price.

And that's a crime?

Not when it's done properly.
No.

What's that?

I was saying, morality aside,

one company buying another
and strip-mining it for profit

is perfectly legal
as long as one follows
the letter of the law

and pays
the appropriate taxes.

-Which they didn't.
-Correct.

There is evidence that
every dime borrowed
by Stussy Lots

in the past four months
was funneled into

dozens of off-shore accounts
in the name of
all three partners.

-Mr. Stussy, Mr. Feltz...
-And this V.M. Varga.

-Who blew in on
the wind last year.
-That's how it looks.

-Uh...
-(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Oh.

Bur...

Burgle.

What?

-(SIREN WAILS)
-(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

WINNIE: We got five bodies
on the third floor.

Gunfire in both directions.
Just straight up carnage.

Chief's thinking
an ambush scenario.

GLORIA: Ambush by who?

Don't know him.
But you're gonna recognize
the next one.

Told you.

Wait till you see
who we think the target was.

-It was her.
-What was?

Who sent the note to the IRS.

Connecting the dots,
Nikki Swango.

-Why would she?
-They killed her man.

You need to issue a BOLO.

What are you gonna do?

Someone's gotta warn Emmit.

(EXHALES)

(CLEARS THROAT)

(FUEL INDICATOR DINGING)

(HISSING)

What now?

(ENGINE SPUTTERING)

Oh, shit.

(DIALING)

(BEEPING)

(BEEPING)

Shit!

Fucking...

(GRUNTING)

Fuck.

(ENGINE STOPS)

Oh, jeez. Oh, jeez.

Are you as low as you can go?

EMMIT: What?

I asked if you still feel
you've got room to fall,

or whether this is bottom.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Honestly...

If you'd asked me yesterday,

I'd have said
I couldn't go lower

than sitting in jail,

staring at a life behind bars,
or the electric chair.

But now, here we are today,

lower still.

Oh, I've been watching.

This Varga fellow
plucked you like a chicken.

But he's gone now.

So, I'm gonna finish the job.

Please, wait, I got...

What? Kids?

People who love you?

I don't think
that's true anymore.

Type of man who would
poison his best friend,

kill his own brother.

No.

(STUTTERS)
I didn't... I didn't...

-I didn't mean to...
-Oh, you didn't mean to. Oh.

(CLICKS TONGUE)
See you later then.

At least, let me call my wife?

You smashed your phone.

EMMIT: Oh, yeah.

He's a kitten now, Ray.

In case you were wondering.

He's a...

I looked in his eyes.

My Ray.

Who never got to say goodbye.

Who you left bleeding
on the floor,

sadness in his eyes,

your own brother.

Do it.

Shoot me.

Put me out of my...

"Though thou exalt thyself
as the eagle,

"and though thou set
thy nest among the stars,

"thence will I bring
thee down, sayeth..."

What?

"Though thou exalt thyself
as the eagle,

"and though thou set
thy nest among the stars,

"thence will I bring
thee down,

"sayeth..."

Shit. Back in your car. Move.

(SIREN CHIRPS)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

NIKKI: It's not... (CHUCKLES)
We're fine.

OFFICER:
Not a parking lot, folks.

-Side of the road.
-NIKKI: I know.

It's kind of a long story,

but in the end of it,
we all go home, so...

Thanks for stopping,
it's real Christian of you.

Step away from the car, ma'am.

Is everything okay, Officer?

-OFFICER:
License and registration.
-Of course.

You, too, ma'am.

Uh, my purse is in my truck,
you want me to...

Hold on.

There you go.

It's a lease.

So, it's registered
to the company,
but it's my company, so...

Ma'am.

Stay put.

(STAMMERS)

-I'll get the license.
-Officer.

-She's...
-OFFICER: Ma'am.

-I'm serious.
-You should, because she's...

-This is silly,
I mean, we're just...
-She's got a gun.

(LIGHT CHUCKLE)

-Sir, step out of the car.
-No.

I'm... She's the one
you should...

Out of the car, now.

Damn it.

Ma'am, do not take
another step.

EMMIT: Honest, listen,
I'm not the...

She's the one, I'm harmless,
you should...

For Christ's sake, shoot her.

(GUNSHOT)

(SHUDDERING)

(SOFT HARP MUSIC PLAYING)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

(MOURNFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

Okay, then.

(SIREN WAILING)

So, I've been trying to decide
what to tell you
about your grandpa,

his demise, the root cause.

He wasn't really my grandpa.

Listen to me,
he was one of God's creatures
same as you and me.

And what happened to him,

that should never happen
to anyone.

It was that stoner, you said.

It was and it wasn't.

And I wanna say more, I do,

but there's violence
to knowing the world
isn't what you thought.

-And you're just a boy...
-I'm 13 now.

You're still a boy.

You've got your
whole life to be grown,

only a few more years
to be young.

So, for now,

just know that sometimes
the world doesn't make
a lot of sense.

But how we get through it is,
we stick together.

-Okay?
-Okay.

Good. Eat your popsicle.

(QUIET, ETHEREAL MUSIC
PLAYING)

(DOOR BELL RINGS)

(SHUDDERING BREATHS)

(CRYING)

(SOBS)

EMMIT: Bless us, O Lord,

for this bounty
we're about to receive.

Bless our family and friends.

We've had some dark times
and made mistakes, but...

Now we see the light.

-Amen.
-Amen.

(EMMIT CHUCKLES)

Can you hand me
those carrots there, Stella?

-There you go.
-Thank you. Thanks.

Terrific.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

How are you there, friend?

Good as new.

Here you go.

Look at us, together again.

Whoops, the salad.

Oh, shoot, it's in the fridge.

No, I'll go.

You want some?

(SNIFFLES)

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

(SILENCED GUNSHOT)

(INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENT
OVER PA)

-Chris Honeycomb.
-Gloria Burgle,
Minneapolis office.

Are you sure it's him?

Face recognition picked him up
coming in from Brussels.

He's been here overnight.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

Oh, that this was
my salvation.

A weary traveler, I.

Agent Burgle, Department
of Homeland Security.

Ah, the nation state
defending its borders.

And me, a simple salesman.

-What do you sell, Mr...
-Rand. Daniel.
I sell accounting software.

In Brussels.
Is that where you live?

Good Lord, no.

I'm a citizen of the air,
Madam.

Moving, always moving.

You don't remember me, do you?

Surmise.

Because I haven't greeted you,
I don't remember you.

Do you?

We may have met once
in my younger days.

Are you familiar with
the Russian saying,

"The past is unpredictable"?

-I'm pretty sure
you made that up.
-Possibly.

But which of us
can say with certainty
what has occurred,

actually occurred,

and what is simply rumor,
misinformation, opinion?

A photograph is
considered proof
in a court of law.

Well, photographs
can be doctored.

One's eyes can be deceived.

We see what we believe,
not the other way around.

Six people dead,
including a state trooper.

$200 million unaccounted for.
Those are facts.

And you at the heart
of the morass.

What else
am I supposed to see?

A man wakes up one morning
and decides to kill

four men over a certain age,
all with the same last name.

(GLORIA LAUGHS)

That didn't happen.

And yet,
if evidence is collected,

if confessions are made,

if a verdict of guilty
is entered in a court of law,

then its happening becomes
as the rocks and rivers,

and to argue that
it didn't happen is to argue
with reality itself.

Did you know
Emmit Stussy was murdered?

Three months ago.

Killed in his own home.

Pitchfork peasants.

-What?
-I said,

it is a dangerous world
for men of standing.

Human beings, you see,
have no inherent value other
than the money they earn.

Cats have value, for example,

because they provide pleasure
to the humans.

But a deadbeat on welfare?

Well, they have
negative value.

So, ipso facto,

Emmit's death is more tragic
than the death of a wasteling.

That's... (SIGHS)

You can't believe that.

Oh, it's true.

It's true whether
I believe it or not.

Did you kill him?

Emmit?

-From Brussels?
-(SCOFFS)

They got phones in Belgium,
yeah? E-mail?

Mr. Varga.

(CHUCKLES LIGHTLY)

You're asking me
if there are phones
in Belgium?

(CHUCKLES)

Let me tell you
what's gonna happen next.

Three agents
from Homeland Security

are gonna put handcuffs on you
and take you to Rikers.

And then we're gonna
charge you with felony
money laundering

and six counts of conspiracy
to commit murder.

And then I'm gonna
go home to my son,
it's his birthday tomorrow.

I promised I'd take him
to the state fair.

You ever guess a pig's weight?

Or eat a deep fried
Snickers bar?

There's no better way
to spend a Saturday in this,
our great American experiment.

So, while you're eating
mashed potatoes
from a box in a dark room,

think of me among
the amber waves of grain.

No.

That's not what's
gonna happen next.

What's gonna
happen next is this.

In five minutes
that door is going to open,

and a man you can't argue with
will tell me

I'm free to go.

And I will stand
from this chair

and disappear into the world,
so help me God.

Rikers and Snickers bars.

You'll see.

(TSKS)

Agent Burgle.

Gloria.

Trust me.

The future is certain.

And when it comes,
you will know
without question,

your place in the world.

Until then, we've said
all there is to say.

Any further debate would be
simply wasting our breath.

And if there's one thing
I can't abide, it's waste.

Goodbye.

(HUMMING)

(CLASSICAL PIANO
MUSIC PLAYING)