All language subtitles for xcgchvjkjhl;,.stdghjkjdgfhjhkj

(DISTANT THUNDER RUMBLING)

Hey, Ray.
Jeez, did your wife get you that hat?

- Something wrong with it?
- Nothing that pissing on it won't cure.

Maybe we all ought to just
form a circle right here now and do it.

(FLIES BUZZING)

RAY: Hi.
KLEINMAN: Hi.

We were flying over the gorge,
and Cas spotted him down here.

I got 20/15 vision.

Pilot called in on his radio
and told the authority.

He's an Indian.

I'm Harold Kleinman.

What were you doing
way out here, Harold?

Oh, me and the Cas,
we're amateur archeologists.

We left the wives back
in Santa Fe this morning

and headed out in this direction,

hoping to find
this ancient "Anastazi" battlefield...

Anasazi.

I guess you don't find
many bodies out here, huh?

No, we sure don't.

- What do you think, Bert?
- He's dead.

Why would anyone come all the way
out here to kill himself?

Well, maybe his wife bought him
a new hat and made him wear it.

Of course, I won't be positive
till I do an autopsy.

RAY: Hi. How you doing?
You bring these tourists out here?

Just trying to keep them
from finding any arrowheads.

- Ray Dolezal.
- Delmar Blackwater.

- Hey. Don't touch the car.
- CASANOV: Okay. Sorry.

- Navajo? Oh.
- Mescalero Apache.

Blood-thirstiest, red-bastard savages
this side of the rio Brazos.

- I was kind of hoping for that scalp.
- (CHUCKLES)

Yeah, we ought to
get this bad boy out of here, Ray.

He's starting to smell ripe.

- Yeah.
- (FLIES BUZZING)

Hey, uh, if you need
any more pens like that,

you just let me know, Sheriff.

I sell a whole line
of novelty pens just like that,

imprinted with
the message of your choice.

CASANOV: Holy shit!

Ray, you're not actually gonna tag that
and report it as evidence, are you? Ray?

(SIGHS)

(CAR HONKS)

- What stopped that bike, Ben?
- (CHUCKLING) I don't know. Gravity?

(CHUCKLES)

Is that real money?

- Uh, yeah.
- Gee, that's a lot.

There's got to be
a thousand dollars there, Dad.

What you looking at?

Look, Ace, why don't you go home
and tell Mom I'll be home real soon?

- I got some more work to do.
- Okay. See you later, Dad.

Okay.

This is Deputy Sheriff Ray Dolezal,
Torrance County 4-3-niner-2-7-7.

I'd like a trace and status
on a '90 T-Bird,

VIN number,
2-6-Charles-Henry-Charles

3-niner-Nora-1-John-
1-2-1-2-2-niner-2.

I can be reached at 412-5607.

I'd appreciate it
if you could expedite this.

Thanks.

RAY: Maybe the federales
will be able to make an ID

and get him out of here
by the end of the week.

BERT: Maybe I won't
even have to cut him open.

That briefcase could be
$20,000 lighter, Ray.

Nobody'd know
we didn't find it that way.

Think it was a self-inflicted wound?

There's no reward for being so damn
black-and-white ethical, Raymond.

Was it a self-inflicted wound, Bert?

Rug fuzz. Here. Take a look.

- Ugly rug.
- Butt-ugly rug.

BOTH: Longhorn Ranch Motel.

(DOG BARKING)

Paid cash up front for the first night.

Had this big old wad of bills.
God damn it.

I think that's what must have fooled me
is that big wad of cash he had.

I figured he could
stand good for the balance.

That's a $63 mistake, isn't it?

How'd you know it was my rug, anyway?

RAY: Did you see him leave?

PETERSON: Didn't see him at all
after he checked in.

I'm not the nosy type, you understand.

RAY: Did this Mr. Spencer
make any calls?

Well, if he did, he, uh...
He didn't make them from the room here.

We got this special deal.

For four dollars,
you can make unlimited local calls,

- but, uh, he passed on it.
- Did he have a car?

PETERSON: He said he did.
I never seen it.

You know, we, uh... We usually
clean these rooms up almost every day,

but, uh, Mr. Spencer,

he put that "Do Not Disturb" sign
there on the door.

You probably saw it when we come in.

If a customer wants privacy,
we're gonna give it to him.

Decorate these rooms yourself,
Mr. Peterson?

(CHUCKLES) No.

No, I brought me this fairy
over from Albuquerque.

He did it. I couldn't do this.
I'm... I'm color-blind.

(CHUCKLES)

(SNIFFING)

(MURMURING)

Looks like there's been a fire in there.

What?

- Don't touch anything.
- No, sir.

Jesus Christ, what the hell's
he been doing in here?

My Lord.

This look like teeth marks to you?

Well, maybe.

BERT: Teeth marks? Huh.
RAY: Yeah, I think so.

(STRAINING) You got a hell
of an imagination, Raymond. Let's go.

(GRUNTING)

BERT: Got this John Doe
up your butt now, don't you?

Gonna drive us all crazy
trying to figure it out.

Ruin my Saturday afternoon
in front of the TV.

Guy's in trouble, holed up in
a motel room with half a million bucks,

scared, writing on everything,
making desperation calls.

Now he has to cover his trail.
He burns his clothes.

He swallows that piece of paper.

Let's say that, that happens
in the morning, and he's dead by noon.

Maybe that piece of paper
wasn't digested.

(BONE CRACKS)

(BERT GROANS)

Intestinal gases.

Oh, the ever-loving
death fart of a warthog.

(GROANING)

All we got are two names. "Goodman"

and a date written on
one of those fast food wrappers,

kind of looks like an appointment.

"Noreen." Who the hell is Noreen?

Oh, ease off. You're as persistent
as a dog with two dicks.

(BERT HUMMING)

(GRUNTS)

Ugh.

Yeah, you're gonna owe me for this one.
Promise you that.

(GROANING)

Ah-ha!

Looks like a radish. They in season?

Oh, cut it out, Bert.

And here's a carrot.

Garbanzo bean.

This may be putrefied lettuce.

Must've been a salad bar
or one of those deals.

There's a sorrowful last act
for a desperate man.

Hey, maybe Noreen was with him.
Maybe she had a big burger with fries.

Maybe Mr. Goodman was there
and he had apple pie.

Yeah, yeah, it's all starting
to make sense now.

We'll call it "The Big Lunch."

(LAUGHS)

(CHUCKLES)

Wait, what...

God damn. This looks like paper.

It's that kind of waxy paper
they wrap hamburgers in.

It's got about a 200-year half-life.

Something's definitely
written on this one.

- What's it say?
- Uh, it's smeared.

Numbers?

- Numbers.
- Son of a bitch.

(LINE RINGING)

Now, just 'cause there's seven digits

does not necessarily mean
it's a telephone number.

We're sorry. The number
you have reached is not in service.

Maybe it's in Utah.

Motel didn't have
a record of long-distance.

Probably used a credit card
or billed to another number.

(LINE RINGING)

We're sorry...

- What's the area code in Texas?
- They got about five.

You are one tenacious SOB.

You gonna call all 50 states
on my phone?

Maybe that's not a six,
maybe it's a zero.

Holy unrelenting bastard.

(LINE RINGING)

- WOMAN: Hello.
- Hi. Who's this?

This is 803-1424.

- And who's this?
- Mr. Spencer.

- Ooh, just a minute.
- (WHISPERS) Who is it?

- Ray, who is it?
- WOMAN 2: Spencer?

- That's right. Who's this?
- Goodman, Spencer.

- Where the hell have you been?
- (MOUTHING)

- You were supposed to call.
- Oh, Goodman.

Uh, I, uh, ran into a problem,
but everything's taken care of now.

You're four days late.

Yeah, I know,
but everything's fine now. I...

It was a personal thing.

Yeah? Well, we figured
you changed your mind.

- Why would I change my mind?
- Don't get cute, Spencer.

You're four days late.
We're ready to cut you loose

and forget about the whole thing.

No! Look, I'm sorry about the delay.

There's a hotel in Taos
called the Kachina Lodge.

Be there tomorrow at 8:00 p.m.
A room will be reserved in your name.

Kachina Lodge. 8:00 p.m. Fine.

Bring the money.

- Of course.
- (LINE DISCONNECTS)

Well?

(CAR ENGINE REVS)

BEN: Dad, stop! Stop!
Look out for my bike!

- Did you bring your gun?
- Yep.

See you probably tomorrow.

- Bye.
- Bye, honey.

- Be careful.
- I will.

MOLLY: Bye!

- Bye, Ray!
- (CAR HONKS)

(CAR HONKS)

COMMENTATOR: I don't think
he's a base-stealing threat.

I think he's capable
of stealing a base...

Come on. Throw it over.

- Yeah?
- Good afternoon, sir.

We're trying to locate, uh,
the Deputy Sheriff, Ray, uh...

- Dolezal.
- Ray Dolezal.

Would you know where he is?

Something wrong?

CASANOV: Don't guess you find
many bodies out here, huh?

RAY: Why would anyone come all the way
out here to kill himself?

Think it was a self-inflicted wound?

Did Mr. Spencer make any calls?

Noreen. Who the hell is she?

GOODMAN: Spencer,
where the hell have you been?

You were supposed to call.
You're four days late.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(KEYS JINGLING)

Oh!

- Is this your room?
- Uh, yeah.

- Oh, I was just finishing it up.
- Oh, okay.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Mr. Spencer?

- Yes?
- WOMAN: Sorry to bother you.

On the bed!

Don't move.

I said don't move!

(RAY GRUNTS, BREATHES HEAVILY)

Welcome to Taos.

(CHUCKLING)

- It better not be marked.
- Or what?

RAY: Hey! Hey, wait a second!

What's going on?

- Hey! What the fuck are you doing?
- WOMAN: Stay still.

- RAY: God damn it!
- (CHUCKLING)

- Down, boy!
- (WINCES)

Are my hands cold?

You know, we could've come
in here and taken this money

and cut you up for coyote food.

Lucky for you we're not criminals.

(CHUCKLING)

Lennox wants you in Santa Fe
the day after tomorrow.

He'll be at the Hotel La Fonda bar,
6:00 p.m.

Don't be early. Don't be late.

(GRUNTING)

You might wanna bring
a change of clothes.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

- Hello.
- RAY: Hi, honey.

- Ray, where are you?
- I'm still in Taos.

- I'm gonna stay the night here.
- Is everything okay?

Everything's fine. Just fine.

Look, I don't think
I'm gonna make it home tomorrow.

Maybe Tuesday.
I'll come home as soon as I can.

- (TAPE TEARS)
- (RAY GASPS)

- (GRUNTS)
- (MAN GRUNTS)

- (IMPACTS)
- (GRUNTING)

MAN: Get on top of him!

Get his leg!

(ALL GRUNTING, YELLING)

MAN 2: Get his arms!

(MUFFLED YELLING)

Ray? Hi. Greg Meeker.

Welcome to the all-new
Albuquerque offices of the FBI.

Have a seat.

Do you like snapshots, Ray?

I love snapshots.

Little frozen fragments of time.
Completely real.

But unless you know what happened

right before or right after
a picture was taken,

well, hell,
you don't know much of shit, do you?

Where's my hat?

(SCOFFS)

Artie O'Brien, AKA Spencer.

- He's dead.
- GREG: See?

No way you'd know that
from looking at this photo.

RAY: No.

That's Goodman. That's the redhead.

GREG: Gorman Lennox. Ever met him?

- No.
- Me, neither.

Kind of like this one, though.

You gave him my money, Ray. FBI funds.

You give a half million bucks
to a man you don't even know?

What the fuck did you think
you were you doing?

Look, I should've
let you guys handle it,

but I was just trying to ID a body.

- With Bureau money, huh?
- With whatever I had!

All right. Cool.

I can accept that.
From cop to cop. Square business.

Cop to cop. Straight up?

Tell me about him.
This Artie O'Brien/Spencer guy.

Artie was a mule.

From time to time,
he would transport money

from here to there for us
and shit like that.

Something went wrong on this one.
We don't know why.

- But then you stepped in...
- And fucked up, Ray.

Look, I didn't pull the trigger that
blew your delivery boy's brains out.

GREG: No, you didn't.

Look, let's just figure out

how you're gonna pay back
the money and get you back home.

- What are you talk...
- See, Ray,

in your government's eyes,
you were responsible for the money

since it was your call to, you know,
pretty much go ahead and give it away.

Maybe talk to your sheriff.
Pull it out of petty cash.

(CHUCKLES)

What if I went to Santa Fe?

Kept the meeting with Lennox,
told him the deal was off?

I'd get you back your money.

Oh, man, you're an amateur.

You don't know
what the fuck is out there.

- You want your money or not?
- You're still trying to figure out

who killed Artie, aren't you?

Forget Artie. Artie killed himself.

RUIZ: Hang on a minute.

He might be right, Greg.
It may be our only play.

Think about it.

The bimbos have already seen him.

They think he's Spencer.
What have we got to lose?

- Okay?
- Okay. Go to Santa Fe.

I gotta use your phone.
I wanna call my wife,

tell her I'm okay.
She worries, you know.

- You can't call your wife, Ray.
- Why not?

Nobody can know what you're doing
until it's done. You're undercover.

It's called
standard operating procedure.

If you're gonna do this,
you're gonna do it our way.

- Spencer have a first name?
- RUIZ: Bob.

Artie called himself Bob, Bob Spencer.

- Bob?
- Yes.

I can be a Bob.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

Gracias.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

(COUNTRY MUSIC PLAYING)

(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

LENNOX: So what'd they say?

No, come on, tell me what they said.

They said they were
very pretty pictures,

but they only show the work
of professional artists.

- LENNOX: Ah.
- Mr. Lennox? Gorman Lennox?

Hi, I'm Bob. Bob Spencer.

Oh, Jesus. Bob, hey.
Where'd you get that hat?

Oh. It's new.

No kidding.

Oh, would you excuse us?

- Uh, Mr...
- Hold on a second, Bob.

- Uh, Bob, this is, um...
- Roz.

- Roz Kincaid.
- Hi. Nice to meet you, Roz.

Well, Roz, Bob here
is from, uh, Los Angeles.

He has a very important collection
of American Western art.

Isn't that right, Bobby?

Uh. Uh-huh.

I sort of tricked you, Roz.
I'm an art broker.

And Bob here is a client.
I'm gonna take him around

to some of the galleries,
recommend some acquisitions.

But first, I'd like him
to look at your paintings.

I'm gonna recommend that he buys one.

- That is if we can come to a fair price.
- No, no. I...

BOB: You're an artist?

Just look at the work, Bob. You tell me.

- Are they for sale?
- (CHUCKLES) This is silly.

Hell, yes!

What are you doing?

Jesus Christ, Bob. What are you doing?

What if she comes out here
and sees that?

Those are her dreams.
You don't throw away somebody's dreams.

Come on. Let's go.
We're on a schedule. We gotta move.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Ben, I told you
to stay out of the street.

- Now come inside.
- Okay.

Pick up your bike
and then come inside and sit down.

(KEYS CLACKING)

- Hi.
- BEN: Hi.

- Molly Dolezal?
- That's me.

Mrs. Dolezal, I'm Special Agent Flynn.
This is Special Agent Demott.

We're with FBI Internal Affairs.

We, uh... We wanna talk to your husband.

We saw the note on the office.

One of your neighbors
told us that you work here.

- He's not back...
- Do you have a gun?

Ben, I'm gonna talk with these gentlemen

- for a couple of minutes.
- Okay.

Why don't you go on home
and set the table for dinner?

FLYNN: Sorry to interrupt you
here at work.

- We deal with crimes within the FBI.
- So, how can I help you?

Mrs. Dolezal,
we're investigating the disappearance

of some half a million dollars
from one of our impound facilities.

Money being held as evidence
in a court case.

We have reason to believe
your husband may be involved.

- You're from the FBI?
- Yes.

We know that
our prime suspect in this theft

was working with an accomplice.

We know your husband
found our prime suspect dead

out in the desert along with our money.

And, now your husband's disappeared,
and we can't locate the accomplice.

My husband's simply trying to find out
who the dead man was.

- If he calls...
- I'll tell him you want to talk to him.

That is all you want, to talk to him?

Mrs. Dolezal, here's my card.

I realize you want to
protect your husband,

but please just think about one thing.
Half a million dollars.

It's a lot of temptation.

They use the same clay for their fish

that the Indians used
to make their pots a thousand years ago.

You're worried about your money, right?

Yeah, well, actually, that's what
I wanted to talk to you about.

Well, don't worry about it.

It's in a safety deposit box
along there with mine.

Well, I was thinking, I don't know.

Maybe we should reconsider.

Hey, listen, I'm sorry
that the girls got a little rough,

but it's microelectronics, Bobby.

We're living in the age
of the body wire and all that.

So, it's a little understandable
that we got a little paranoid.

Of course, my personal feelings
on the subject

is that it's all about trust.

I mean, you trusted me
with your half-million dollars.

So, naturally,
I'm inclined to trust you.

I mean, Lane said
that you'd deliver, and you did.

Most guys wouldn't trust me.

So, it was a test?

What did Lane tell you about me?

Nothing.

What did Lane tell you about me?

Nothing. You see? It's trust.

It's all we got. It's all we need.

I gotta tell you something, Bobby.
You're not at all what I expected.

How's that?

Well, the way Lane was talking,
I expected something

packaged a little fancier,
sort of a fast-talking, slow-walking

Mohair Sam kind of a thing.

You know, you show up
in your cowboy hat and I thought,

"God damn, I hooked up
with Andy of Mayberry."

Look, Gorman, if you don't
feel comfortable with me,

maybe you're right.
Maybe we should call the deal off.

- You give me my money back.
- Am I edgy? Do I seem edgy?

You know, I quit smoking
about a week ago, and, uh...

It's been like boring
a wild hair up my ass.

I mean, I can't do anything right.

It's just, uh...
Look, let me just chill out.

We'll relax.

You put up $500,000.
I put up $500,000.

We're partners. We're all locked in.

Right.

Uh, we expecting someone?

Well, yeah. Lane.

- Lane?
- Yeah, she was a little concerned

when you didn't show up,
when she didn't hear from you.

Thought maybe you backed out.

Ah, here she is. Here comes Lane.
Here's our girl.

- Hiya, honey.
- Hi.

- Hope I didn't hold you up.
- No, not at all.

Just wanted to see Bobby here squirm
when you showed up.

Well, where did you
disappear to last week?

Well, you know.

You could have called.

Yeah.

Well, let's sit down.

You know, when Gorman told me

he was finally meeting
with you face to face,

I decided I had to see it
with my own eyes.

You see, I thought perhaps
something had gone wrong.

- Obviously not.
- No. Just personal business.

Gorman, you officially owe me
a finder's fee.

Well, I'll take care of your end
as soon as the deal goes through.

I've got to confirm my transportation.

Don't let her bulldoze you, Bobby.

She's used to getting
pretty much everything she wants.

So... (EXHALES)

Bob.

Who are you really?

Bob Spencer. Really.

- The other one was lying?
- Must've been.

So, where is
the other Bob Spencer now?

He's dead.

He's dead?

Yeah, look. You could blow me
out of the water right here.

You know it and I know it.
But since you didn't do it right off,

I'm betting you're waiting
for the deal to go through

so you can get your fee from Lennox.

Am I right?

MAN: (ON PHONE) Hello.

Did you kill him?

Would it matter to you if I did?

- Did you kill him?
- No.

We're all set.

Can you give us a ride?

- Yeah, I'd love to. No, I'll do it.
- I can drive.

Bobby, why drive
when one can be driven?

You know, that's one of my rules.

Hey, Bobby, you like helicopters?

Helicopters?

(HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRRING)

(LENNOX TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

Come on. Get in the front.

This is Bob Spencer.

You might wanna buckle up there, Bob.

Mr. Lennox.

Lieutenant Colonel Bedrosian,
Gorman Lennox.

This is my partner Bob Spencer.

- How you doing, Bob?
- Hi, how you doing?

- Let's get inside.
- Hi.

- It's a little noisy here.
- Come on.

Ever hear of
the White Sands before, Bob?

Uh, no, I sure haven't.

You know, it's not sand. It's gypsum.

Some kind of prehistoric
underground lake.

A little keepsake I made myself.

Just don't tell anybody
where you got it, huh?

Taking sand is illegal. (CHUCKLES)

Hang your keys on. Something
to remember White Sands by. (CHUCKLES)

I'd like to take a quick reconnaissance
of that briefcase.

Money talks, bullshit walks.

Be my guest.

Gentlemen, let's do some business.

These are M-16s.

Brand spanking new.

Sidearms.

9mm Berettas. Hollow-point ammunition.

C-4 explosives.

Claymore mines.

Flechette grenades.

Now this, gentlemen,
is the AT-4 Viper.

This little lady will knock out a tank
at 300 yards.

Armor penetration, 11.81 inches plus.

Muzzle velocity, 985 feet per second.

Now, your ground troops
like it because it's light, reliable,

easy to operate.

International Arms magazine
rated this little honey four stars.

It'll fill your basic needs.

- I'm impressed.
- (MAN LAUGHS)

This all army surplus, stuff that
wasn't used up during Desert Storm?

Negatory. This is state of the art, Bob.

We're dealing direct
with Defense Department procurement.

We'll give you gentlemen 500 now
and 500 on delivery.

Well, no.

Actually, there's been
a slight increase in cost.

Excuse me?

We'll require 400,000 more
on the back end.

Hey, man, that's bullshit.

If you can't handle the volume,
there's no harm, no foul.

Eh, fuck it then. Forget it. No sale.

I ought to turn you two pricks over

to the Treasury Department,
collect a little reward.

We'll just take our money back, boys.

I'm afraid we can't do that.

We've already incurred
significant costs.

We consider it a non-refundable deposit.

Half... Half a million dollars,
a non-refundable deposit?

You two cheap, dime-store cowboys

squatting on your fat-ass pensions
over in Las Cruces.

Black-marketing military hardware
to the highest bidders.

You fuckers make me want to puke.

This is a wash. We're out of here.

- Fuck them.
- Wait a second.

Wait a second. This is crazy!

You guys changed the rules.
How do you expect us to react?

We're not talking about pocket change.

We're talking about $400,000
we gotta come up with somewhere.

It was unavoidable and unforeseen.

Fine, fine, but you're expecting us
to take it on faith

that you've had an increase on your end,

but you're not
giving us credit for believing you.

You're just passing
the whole cost onto us.

All right. I tell you what.

- We'll eat $150,000.
- Okay.

That means you owe us $750,000
on delivery.

Well, that was nicely done, Bobby,
but maybe now you can explain to me, uh,

how we're gonna come up
with that extra $250,000.

I thought you had financing wired.
You do this all the time.

I'm not the money man.
You're the money man, partner.

If I had the money,
I wouldn't need you, now would I?

WOMAN: (ON PHONE)
Mr. Spencer's not in his room right now.

Would you like to leave a message?

Are you sure you're ringing
the right room?

It's Bob Spencer.

Yes, ma'am. I'm sure.

Well, could you just give me
his room number?

I'm sorry, we can't give out
guest room numbers.

- Would you like to leave a message?
- No.

- Good night.
- Good night.

What I need is for you
to just let me wait in his room until...

- That's just not possible.
- Well, I'm not just anybody.

We have a relationship,

Bob Spencer and I,
a close relationship,

and this is a very unpleasant situation.

I'm sorry, ma'am,
but I just can't help...

Good night.

Any messages for Lennox in 306?

No, sir, Mr. Lennox.

Mr. Spencer, sorry to bother you.

There's this woman who's been asking
to be let into your room.

Whoa. Hey, I hope we're practicing
safe sex these days, Bob.

- I'll see you in the morning.
- Okay.

She wouldn't leave a note.
Said her name was Noreen

and that you'd want her to be let in.

- What did she look like?
- She was just here.

You must have walked right past her
when you came in.

Sort of offbeat, redhead, um, around 25.

- Oh. Okay. Thanks.
- Sure.

(BOB EXHALES)

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

(MAN GROANS)

You're not very good at this.

Hey, we're just watching your ass.

I'm FBI. I work for Meeker.

You didn't warn me about Lane Bodine.
You didn't know squat about Noreen!

Could be she's got you confused
with some other Bob Spencer.

Hey, you wanted to see
where Artie's ride took you.

Well, here's where it goes, cowboy.
And we're only halfway home.

That Lane's a piece of work, huh?

What do you mean
we're only halfway home?

You're running some kind of
undercover sting on Lennox

and you're using me for bait.

Hey, I didn't send you in blind, Ray.
I just didn't tell you everything.

But if you want to bail,
I'll understand.

I won't hold it against you.

I'll just write up a report
indicating you lost the money,

couldn't get it back.

No, no, I'm in. I'm in.
Let's get this guy.

Just don't bullshit me anymore.

All right.

The truth is, I've been chasing
Gorman Lennox for five fucking years,

trying to bust him on an arms rap.

Took me 18 months to get Artie in place,

then the whole thing
just blew up in my face.

Artie was FBI?

One of my best undercovers.

Do you think Lane killed him?

Artie's a suicide.

Stay on track here, Ray.

- I need another $250,000.
- What?

- (SIGHS)
- The supplier upped the ante,

and I told Lennox I'd take care of it.

Wait, wait, wait. You expect me
to give you another 250 grand

on top of the 500 you already lost?

Yeah, it's your operation, isn't it?

I'm already way out
on a limb for you. Get serious.

If I don't come up with that money,

Lennox isn't gonna believe
I am who I say I am.

And if I tried to run that up
the Bureau flagpole, nobody'd salute.

Oh, fine, but where the hell
am I supposed to get the money then?

(EXHALES)

Ms. Bodine's got a talent
for finding cash for lost causes.

She's damn good at it, too.
Takes a nice commission.

She's already getting a finder's fee
for setting me up with Lennox.

A finder's fee is what,
maybe five grand?

This is a whole different ball game.

The commission on this whole
arms deal's got to be over 100 large.

I'm sure she'd go for it.

Besides, she likes living on the edge,
playing in the gutter,

seducing men of mystery like Artie.

Like you.

I'm not saying you have to.
I'm just saying it's an option.

You can sell it to her somehow.

(SCOFFS)

LANE: How much are we talking about?
LENNOX: $250,000.

Bob and I are already at risk
for an even million.

We were set to do it ourselves,
but our supplier jacked the price up.

So, here you are.

Well, we need another $250,000
and Bob thought, uh...

- Bob thought?
- Thank you.

Well, Bob thought that
you might be willing to cross the line

in this one case for the greater good.

I don't ever get involved
in these kinds of deals.

No, but you will connect us
with someone that does

and take a fee, right?

I don't think you're in any position
to comment on my ethics, Bob.

Well, excuse me, the truth is

the people you're trying
to help are being butchered

by the government peace-keeping patrols

and blankets and Rice-A-Roni
ain't gonna change that.

Since when do you care what
happens to innocent people anywhere?

All I'm saying is
before humanitarian aid can work,

there's got to be
some humanity to give it to.

He almost sounds like
he believes it, doesn't he?

Who are you buying these weapons from?

Well, if I told you that,
now, you could go straight to the source

and, uh, cut me
and old Bob out here completely.

I mean, that is if you were
the kind of person

to get involved in this sort of thing.

Now what I wanna do is, we'll give you
10% of the total deal.

That's $125,000. That's your share.

And we'll work out whatever guarantees
you might need to protect yourself, uh,

and your friends
from slippery old Gorman Lennox.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

"My friends."

Yes, so you're talking about 10%

- of the front end?
- Right.

So, you buy these guns
from your suppliers for what...

Well, what, if I'm 10%...
$1.25 million.

Then you turn around, sell 'em

to your freedom fighters
for $3 million.

I think I'd like 10 percent
of the back end.

Three hundred thousand.
Don't you think that's fair, Bob?

I don't think you really care
whether it's fair or not,

but it's nice of you to ask.

Very genuine.

Well, I like to be completely
upfront with my business associates.

What about you?

Me? I believe in money, Miss Bodine.

And if you got it or you can get it,

we're gonna be
the best friends you ever had.

Well? Foreplay's over, Lane.

It's time to fuck.

I suppose I could do
one of my little events.

But one of you is gonna
have to stay here

and help me make
the sales pitch to my friends.

Well, Lane,
I'd love to stay here tonight

but, uh, unfortunately,
I have to go to El Paso

to arrange some cargo transportation.

I'm sure Bob can, uh, stay here
and take care of things.

Bob?

- Hey, Bob. The keys.
- Oh, yeah.

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

(CHUCKLING)

- No, no, no, thank you.
- Thanks.

So, who did kill Bob Spencer?

How do you know someone killed him?
I only said he was dead.

Well, how did he die then?

Suicide.

Look, you don't have to
be straight with me. It's okay.

But it doesn't lend itself to intimacy.

We're already intimate, aren't we?

I mean, the minute you
decided to be Spencer,

and I decided to go along with it,
we became intimate.

All right, look.

Maybe this is all
a bit of a game to you,

but, you see, if Gorman ever finds out
that you're not Spencer...

Well, let's just say it would be helpful
to me if I knew who I was dealing with.

Okay, I'm a guy

that Bob Spencer could be,
that could be Bob Spencer.

Works for you, works for Lennox.
Works for me.

You're making fun of me now.

No.

In another context...

I could be stable.
I could be married, raise a kid.

Same guy, different story.

Which is the guy I'm attracted to?

I don't know.

Either way, I should just trust you?

Yeah.

I'm just trying to be honest here.
I figure one of us should try it.

Okay, we're being honest here?

Tell me...

Is there something
between you and Lennox?

It's ancient history
and it's not important.

Trust me.

WAITRESS: Coffee?

- Yeah. Thanks.
- (LIQUID POURING)

(INHALES AND EXHALES)

Great.

Lane, I need, uh...

Look, I need... Our relationship,
I need to keep it on a business level.

For right now, or forever?

You don't want to
get involved with me, Lane.

We'll raise the money,
we'll do the deal, and then I disappear.

I've never met anyone like you.

You're honest...

Even when you're lying.

(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

LANE: Hi. This is Bob.

MAN: Hi. Bob. Nice to meet you.

BOB: Hi, how are you, ma'am?

Miss Bodine, we have a call for you
in the house.

- Tell them to call back.
- Okay.

- Hi.
- Hi, there.

How are you?

- Great to see you. Super party.
- Thanks. Wonderful.

I'm having a great time.

LANE: Oh, hi.

- Take it to the table in front.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Shall we go?
- Oh, sure.

(STRING QUARTET PLAYING)

- Hello.
- Nice to see you.

- How are you?
- Good. Very good.

Uh, there's something
I want to show you here.

It's a letter. Here.

This might give you some idea
of what we're up against.

Uh, here's a pen.

(HORSE WHINNIES)

You like horses?

Not especially.
This looks like a good one.

Well, you're right. He is.

We're riding the rodeo on Friday,
aren't we?

- Really?
- Yeah.

You're not the kind of woman
I'd expect to see in a rodeo.

I'm not the kind of woman you'd expect.

Hold that?

Nice.

Antique?

Uh, I don't know. Gorman gave it to me
a couple of years ago.

Could be valuable. Could be fake.

So, how come you knew Spencer
and Lennox didn't?

Spencer found me.

Spencer was a sleazy grifter
who said he had a lot of money

and was looking for a way
to get it into play.

And I set up a meeting with Gorman
just to get him off my back.

Spencer deserved Gorman Lennox.
They deserved each other.

You forgot to mention
you get a finder's fee.

(CHUCKLES) Come on, Bob.
Look around you.

Does it really seem like a finder's fee
is gonna make or break me?

No, but 300 grand from that arms deal

sure could buy you
a lot of hay and Persian rugs.

I think Lennox and you
play this game every once in a while.

You pull in someone like Spencer...

Maybe you're scamming him,
maybe you aren't.

Maybe you and Gorman
are scamming me.

You make a big pile of money,
and then you come back here to the ranch

and pretend you're only interested
in worthy causes.

I give all the money I earn
on these deals to people who need it.

Three hundred thousand can do
a lot of good in the right hands.

Noble.

Hey, I don't have to
justify myself to you.

No, you don't,
but it's a fine line, isn't it?

Separating you and Lennox?

Sometimes that's all you've got.

All right, you want to know
about Gorman and me?

This is the picture.

I was 20 years old.
I still believed in good and evil

and Gorman was the sexiest man
I'd ever laid eyes on.

He was smart, he was dangerous.
And that was an incredible turn-on.

And I didn't know any better.
I had a trust fund and I was bored.

And then one night he came home,

put a gun to my head
and pulled the trigger... (EXHALES)

Just to see the look on my face

when I heard the click
and realized it was empty.

So what's this guy
still doing in your life?

Gorman's like a virus.

Once you got him, he won't go away.

And now you got him.

But you're not bored anymore, are you?

GREG: You're chasing your own tail here.

It's an open-and-shut case.

Artie stole the money
from the FBI impound, and Artie's dead.

So, what do you think happened?

Artie was a burnout.

I should have put him
on the disabled list,

got him some professional help.

I guess he just lost it,
decided to help himself to Bureau funds,

and when he discovered
you Washington guys creeping up on him,

he freaked and killed himself.

Well, okay.

- Thanks a lot.
- GREG: Mmm-mmm.

- Thanks for your help, Greg.
- No problem.

Stay in touch.

FLYNN: You take it easy.
DEMOTT: See you.

(KEYS CLACKING)

Ruiz, I want you to drop
whatever you're doing

and get on this kidnapping case.

You may have to go to Denver
for a day or two.

What about Deputy Ray?

- Don't worry about that.
- All right.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

(SINGING)
Oh, say, does that star-spangled

Banner yet wave

O'er the land of the free

And the home

Of the brave

MAN: (OVER MIC) Our national anthem!
And we are ready to rumble.

And here's the first
bull ride of the night...

- (MAN CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)
- (PEOPLE CHEERING INDISTINCTLY)

(BULL BELLOWING)

Whoo!

MAN: Look out, Jess Frank.

Holy moly.

Man, I hope he is okay tonight.

He's on his feet,

and you can laugh at him,
but you gotta respect the job they do,

our rodeo clowns and bullfighters.

Give them a big round of applause,
ladies and gentlemen.

A great job they do.
Here, in New Mexico,

Jess Frank, one of the premier
rodeo clowns in bullfighting history...

You're more likely to fall out of that
grandstand than I am off this horse.

I want to go get a good seat.

How about a good-luck kiss?

Thanks.

See you back here at the truck.

Yep.

We got a kiss, Blade.

(HORSE GRUNTS)

Thank you.

That concludes our bull riding,
and it was great ride here tonight.

And if you enjoyed it,
let's give them a big round of applause,

all of our bull riders.

We're gonna move from
the macho men of bull riding

to the event of fast horses
and beautiful ladies.

Our Cowgirls Cloverleaf Barrel Race.

And let's, what do you say,
welcome all of these ladies tonight,

all of our barrel racers...

LENNOX: Excuse me.

...the heartland of America
to Wichita, Kansas.

We're all set. We're down for Thursday.

...smokin 'em in the Rockies,
and rockin 'em in the Smokies.

And here she comes
around the first turn.

And to number two,
and to the final turn tonight,

it's a dash for cash
down the homestretch.

Let's go to
our next barrel racer here this evening.

Well, we need to have Mr. Bob Spencer.

Bob, if you're listening,

we need to have you check in
at our hospitality booth

- behind the grandstand.
- Let me check this. I'll be right back.

Bob Spencer. Let's welcome
our next barrel racer tonight.

Here is Sally Price
from Paris, Arkansas.

Here she comes headed
for that first turn here tonight...

(MAN CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

Hi.

Uh, I'm Bob Spencer. You paged me.

Oh, yes. Oh. Miss! Miss!

Oh, it's that redhead girl over there.

- She wanted to talk to you.
- Okay, thank you.

Hi.

Uh, you're not the guy
I was looking for, okay?

I'm sorry, I made a mistake.

- Are you Noreen?
- Listen, mister. Don't touch me!

Your name is Noreen.

You were at La Fonda Hotel
looking for Bob Spencer.

- No! Wait!
- MAN: Hey, watch it!

Noreen, wait!

- Noreen, I just want to talk to you!
- No!

Listen... Listen to me!

I'm a friend of Bobby's. I can help you.

- You're not with the feds?
- No!

Okay, okay, but we gotta
go someplace safe, all right?

I have a car. It's a white Volkswagen.
It's right down here.

- I think that they followed me.
- Who followed you?

The feds. They want their money back.

The FBI knows where the money is.

They told me if I found Bob for them,
they would let me off.

That's why I came here tonight
because Bob loves the rodeo.

- Bobby's dead.
- Oh, Jesus.

Are you sure they were feds?

- I knew it wasn't gonna work.
- FBI?

I told him it wasn't gonna work.

I told him that he should
just give the money back.

What wasn't gonna work?
What wasn't gonna work?

About ten days ago,
Bobby's friend shows up. (SNIFFLES)

And he says that they have this plan,
right, to get the FBI off our back.

And that way... (SOBBING)

And that way we could stay together
and still keep the money.

What was the friend's name?

It wasn't even Bobby's idea
to take the money from the Bureau.

He didn't even want the money.

He just wanted
to be able to stay with me.

- What was the friend's name?
- I don't know!

I don't know. Um...

I have a picture, I think,
of the three of us somewhere.

I don't know. Maybe it's in my car.
I don't know. Oh, no.

MAN: Ray! Hey, Ray!

FBI. Internal Affairs.

Listen, Deputy,
we're not going to arrest you.

We just want to ask you some questions.

Let's take a ride.

(CAR IGNITION CRANKS)

MAN: Hey! What the hell?

- Give me the keys to the truck.
- They're in it.

What happened? Where's Bob?

Gorman, what are you...

Wait a minute! Gorman,
my horse is tied to the back!

(HORSE WHINNIES)

(PEOPLE CLAMORING)

What the hell is that?

Hey, Ray. You're a hard man to find.

We've been looking
all over New Mexico for you.

Yeah, we didn't expect you
to turn up calling yourself Spencer.

Maybe you were in on it from the get-go,
huh? Maybe you're Artie's accomplice.

About four months back,
a whole lot of money disappeared

from Bureau impound where it was waiting
to get used in a trial.

- Sound familiar?
- I don't know what you're talking about.

Yeah, Ray.
You don't have to answer that.

Yeah, questions.
A lot of unanswered questions here, see?

Right.

We're gonna take you
to the police station in Santa Fe.

You're not under arrest,
so you won't need an attorney

unless you've got something to hide.

What the hell's that guy doing?

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Wave him by.

(CAR HORN CONTINUES HONKING)

What's he doing?

Hey, watch out!

(MAN SCREAMS)

(GROANS)

(LENNOX GRUNTING)

(THUDDING)

(FBI AGENTS GROANING)

You guys drunk or what?

Oh, my God, what happened to you?

- What happened? Where's Gorman?
- I don't know.

(STAMMERING) He took off with the truck.
He didn't say anything to me, you know?

I just want to know
what the hell is going on, Bob.

You don't even know who I am.

Okay.

My name is Ray Dolezal. I'm a cop.

I've been trying to figure out
who killed Bob Spencer.

I'm sorry.

Get the car. Get the car!

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

(CAR ENGINE REVS)

(PHONE KEYPAD BEEPING)

He's back.

(INHALING AND EXHALING DEEPLY)

(POPPING LIPS)

(SHOWER RUNNING OVER HEADPHONES)

Ray, you all right?

What?

Who killed that girl tonight?

(OVER RECORDER) What are we gonna do?
We should tell somebody.

RAY: Look, I think I can
keep you out of this.

You really haven't done anything.

LANE: I don't wanna be kept out of this.

I care about you. I wanna help you.

I don't care about Lennox
or your job or the FBI.

I care about you.

I want you.

(BOTH MOANING)

I'm married, Lane.

You want to go back to your wife?

Do you need money?

I can get you money.

You can pay off the feds,
make them disappear.

I'll get you some money.

(LANE MOANING)

(LANE MOANING)

LANE: Oh, God!

Oh, yes. Oh, yeah.

(BREATHING HEAVILY) Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Yes! Yeah! Yeah!

Oh! Yeah, yeah.

Yes! Yes!

Oh, God! Yes!

Get down, Deputy Ray. Get down.

Oh, yes. Oh, thank you!

God.

(GASPS)

Yes!

(MOANING DECREASES)

(MAN GROANING)

(MAN GROANING)

GREG: Don't do it!

Those two guys at the rodeo
were FBI too, right?

GREG: Hey, hey, it's a big Bureau,
lots of headless horsemen.

Can I put on my pants?

You killed Noreen. You killed Spencer.

Well, go ahead, asshole,
shoot me. Go on, do it!

You think that'll solve your problem?

First-degree murder
of a federal agent? Go on, do it.

My first concern
was the integrity of the operation.

It was a judgment call.
Could have gone either way.

- Go outside, Lane.
- I'm all right, Ray.

Go outside. Wait in the car.

The less you know, the better.

You drilling her yet, Ray?

Did Artie know that money
you gave him was stolen?

Borrowed. Washington wouldn't fund
my Lennox sting

so I borrowed some money
nobody was using.

Artie was a head case.

He went ballistic when Internal Affairs
started poking around.

So, you tracked him down and killed him,
and left the money on him

and hoped everyone
would blame him, right?

No, no, no, no, not me.
I just told Artie the truth.

Your truth.

I'm putting on my pants.

(BOTH GROANING AND GRUNTING)

Jesus!

(MAN GROANS)

(CHUCKLES) Ray, Ray, Ray.

You'll appreciate this story, Ray.

(COUGHS)

When I finally tracked Artie down,

he's holed up
in your local Longhorn Ranch Motel,

waiting to connect with Lennox,
courtesy of your friend Lane.

His plan has come apart.

Reality is setting in.

He thought I was gonna save him.

I drive us out to nowhere

and then I tell him the truth.

That his wife Karen knows

he's fucking Noreen,
and he's fucking Lane.

- Well, that's bullshit.
- Ask her!

Bring Lane in here and ask her
if he wasn't in there before you!

I tell him that his life is shit

and we're both fucked,

and there's no way out of it.

And then I just handed him the gun.

I said, "You go first, buddy."

And he shot himself.

Mmm-hmm. (LAUGHS)

And I walked back to town.

I'm arresting you
for the murder of Artie O' Brien.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Uh-huh.
And they're gonna believe you.

What's the picture
they're gonna be looking at here, Ray?

Small town redneck cop
who possibly stole money from the Bureau

telling wild ass tales
about a respected senior minority agent,

who hasn't so much as a bug stain
on his record.

I'm out of the loop, Ray.

Artie's dead.
Noreen's fingered you as the accomplice.

She's dead.

All you've got is a Polaroid, cowboy.
Means nothing!

It's just another snapshot.

If I help you bust Lennox,
what happens to me?

Then you're a hero.
You get to go home to your wife.

I tell everybody
how Artie stole the money,

and you and me took a lemon
and made lemonade.

It's your only move.

You get back to me now, Ray.

I'll be here, waiting.

(GREG LAUGHING)

Lane?

What the hell are you doing here?

- Have you seen Lane?
- No. You all right?

Hey, come on,
I want to show you something.

They turned this into a working holiday.
Can you believe that?

That's our tax dollars hard at work.

You know, good always triumphs
over evil.

Hey, come on. Let's see
how much they know. Hop in.

(CROWS CAWING)

LENNOX: My number one rule in life

is you don't let people intimidate you.

Here you go. Payback.

You really are a disappointment.

I'm working for the FBI.

No, you're not. I know who you are.

I make calls.

I know all about Greg Meeker
and his pathetic little scam.

I'm C-fucking-IA, Bobby.

Meeker doesn't know.

Meeker doesn't know shit.
He can't touch me.

They don't tell him that, though.

Officially, I don't exist.

I can't.

My profit's my reward

for selfless service
to God and country.

No!

What's the fuck's wrong with you?
I brought these people here for you.

These fuckers are the only ones

that can connect Artie
and the money to you.

- Nobody will ever know.
- I'll know.

Yeah?

(GUN FIRING)

Well, we're partners.
I'm action and you're money.

Together, we could be legendary.

This isn't about sides.
This is about confusion.

This is about creating enemies
where there aren't any.

Hey, man, the whole
goddamn world's falling apart.

Peace reigns. Freedom reigns.

Democracy rules.

How are we gonna
keep the military industrial complex

chugging forward
without clear-cut, fucking pit-faced

scum-sucking evil
breathing down our neck?

Hmm?

Threatening our very shores.

Now my job is to make sure
the other side keeps on fighting.

Whatever side. I mean, whatever side
we're officially not on this year.

But that's all water under the bridge.

This is it.
You helped raise the money with Lane.

You came through for me. Yeah.

So, let's go. It's all set up.

- We'll meet the vendors tomorrow.
- No.

Get the fuck away from me. You're crazy.
I'm not going anywhere with you.

- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- Where's the rest of the money?

I can't make the deal
without Lane's quarter mil.

Where is she?
(SHOUTS) Where is she?

Hey, you can't win here, Ray.

Dealer holds the cards.

Oh, look, hey,
we'll trade Lane for the cash.

She said you had it.
I'll see you tomorrow.

You can bury 'em if you want.

(CAR ENGINE REVVING)

Lane.

Lane.

MAN'S VOICE: Ever hear
of the White Sands before, Bob?

(ECHOING) It's not sand. It's gypsum.

(DOOR OPENS)

(HORSE WHINNIES)

(HORSE WHINNIES)

(DOOR BANGS OPEN)

Oh, man, not this noise again!

(GREG SHOUTS)

We're going for a little ride.

(TRUCK HORN HONKS)

They tell me it's easier
if you rip it off quick.

Oh, shit! You son of a bitch!

I'm thinking you're gonna see
the light here in about five seconds

and you're gonna remember

that the only way
you can get out of this mess

is to help me get Lennox!

Guess what, Greg?

Lennox is CIA.

(STAMMERS)

That's bullshit.

(YELLING) Who the fuck told you that?
Ray!

All right. So what if Lennox is CIA?

So what if he's in
on this deal with Artie?

It's not gonna save your ass!

You're losing it, Raymond!

You're losing it
the same way Artie did!

And we both know
what happened to Artie!

The farther you go down that river, Ray,
the harder it is to come back!

(GRUNTS)

You listening to me, Ray?

Last night, that call I made?

FBI Internal Affairs in DC.

I told them I'm Artie's accomplice,

and I'd meet them here
with their money.

GREG: I don't get it.

(SIGHS)

Lennox killed the two feds
who think I'm Artie's accomplice.

That means anybody
could be Artie's accomplice now, right?

Anybody.

Like you, for instance.

Oh, man. Look, Ray, Ray, Raymond.

- Look, don't do this!
- I told them to send one guy in.

Just one or I'd bolt.

My first concern being
the integrity of the operation.

You know this is not gonna work.

You sick son of a bitch!

You got lots to think about here, Greg.
A lot of choices.

You could try to explain everything
to your FBI friends.

It's a long shot, but after all,
you are a senior minority agent

without even a bug stain
on your record.

And then again, you could kill him
and take the money and run.

(COCKS GUN)

You like choices, Greg?

(GRUNTS SOFTLY)

I'm glad you got my little clue.

- Where's Lane? That was the deal.
- (SIGHS)

She's down the road, by the entrance.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

You don't trust me.

(CHUCKLES) Where's the money?

Oh, it's right in there.

Well, why did you
put the money in there?

I wanted to make sure
I had an even chance of getting away.

- You understand.
- Oh, you're so goddamn cynical.

(LIGHTER CLINKS OPEN)

I thought you quit smoking.

Well, it looks like
I have no will power.

You sure the money's in the case?

Gorman, I thought we were working from
an element of mutual trust here.

You're making me sad.

Well...

Maybe we can hook up again someday.

No. Too wild for me.

Well, it's all a bunch
of bureaucratic bullshit.

They have an agenda.
I have an agenda.

But you know what? It works.

Yeah, it's the CIA way.

It's a beautiful design.
It keeps corruption to a minimum.

I'm gonna go while you're in there.

Oh, I know.

(SMACKS LIPS)

(LENNOX EXHALES)

GREG: Ray!

Ray! Very fucking funny, Ray!

Who the fuck else is out there, huh?
Ray!

(CAR HOOD SLAMS SHUT)

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(SCREAMS)

I heard gunshots.

He's dead, isn't he?

Yeah.

I guess that's it then.

(SCREAMING)

(IGNITION CRANKING)

I guess you can give
the money back to the donors

or find a cause you really believe in.

I thought I had.

Are you in love with your wife?

Yeah, I am.

Are you in love with me?

I could have been.

- Is this yours?
- (CHUCKLES) New hat, yeah.

(LAUGHS)

- Molly bought it for my birthday.
- Molly.

Let's see.

Looks good on you.

Be careful.

- (ENGINE REVS)
- (MOUTHING) Go on.

(SIRENS WAILING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Sir, we found our money
inside the trunk of the car.

RUIZ: (CHUCKLES) Half a million bucks.

AGENT: There's also footprints
going back up into the dunes.

No!

(MUSIC PLAYING)

There are days

And there are nights

When you need some time
and distance

Well, sometimes
That's all you got

To see things crystal clear

To see everybody's hand

You got to fall
To make a stand

Quicksand and lies

It's where the trouble starts

There's a big world out there

That'll tear your soul apart

Truth hides in the shadows

And the backrooms and dives

That you walk that thin line and believe

And it's there you'll survive

Quicksand and lies

And it's a long, slow slide

To where the goal gets lost

Smokescreens into words
Shattered dreams

But not without a cause

It's not about taking sides

And there's no room for thinking

It'll ever be the same

And doubletalk, deceit, and deception

It's how they play the game

Quicksand and lies

It's where the trouble starts

There's a big world out there

That'll tear your soul all apart

Truth hides in the shadows

And the backrooms and dives

And you walk that thin line and believe

That it's there you'll survive

The quicksand and lies

'Cause without the truth
There ain't nothing

Nothing but a lie

And the lies always grow

Feel for the edges to keep from falling

You'll live on the inside, oh

The quicksand and lies

It's where the trouble starts

There's a big world out there

That'll tear this all apart

Truth hides in the shadows

And the backrooms and dives

And you walk that thin line and believe

That it's there you'll survive

The quicksand and lies