Original subtitles

That thing in your file about you being a former biathlete,

is that a nice bit of padding or...

No, no. I went to college on a full biathlon scholarship.

My nickname was Deadeye.

Ah, just what I wanted to hear.

I've got a little assignment for you.

Antonio Stade, gun for hire,

trained under Mao, ex-special ops.

He's responsible for the deaths of 29 British agents

and one old lady.

He's a monster.

That's Idi Amin's granny. Trust me, she had it coming.

- So what's the plan? - MI6 gave us head's up, he's gonna be in Ottawa,

and not for the Miss Teen Ontario pageant, if you know what I mean.

I don't know what you mean.

- He's here to kill a guy. - You want us to protect the target.

Mm, no, I need you to kill Stade.

What? I'd do it myself, but I'm a guest judge

at the Miss Teen Ontario pageant.

Anyway, good luck, Deadeye.

♪ Well now the sun ain't shinin' no more ♪

♪ I don't know why but I've seen it before ♪

♪ Ain't got no joy No man to lean on ♪

♪ He leaves my soul on the floor like a doll ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah! ♪ ♪ Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo ♪

Not that I'm trying to get out of this or anything,

but, um, shouldn't MI6 handle this?

Alex, MI6 has done some serious dirty work for us in the past.

Now it's time for us to return the favour.

Of course, I understand. It's just...

Look, I need you to do this.

It requires a steady hand.

It's gotta be done quickly, no mess.

That's why we need you, biathlete.

Yeah, uh, about that.

[cheering in distance]

Okay, you got this.

Steady breath.

Line it up.

Bite me.

[gunshot]

The marshal is down! The marshal is down!

Call 9-1-1. So much blood!

And now that clip is used in the Biathlete Safety Video.

It's a "don't. "

That outfit is a "do. " You still got that thing?

No. They burned it after they kicked me off the team.

- And I haven't fired a rifle since. - Hm. Well, then, delegate.

I do it all the time, like just now, with you.

I know this is not a very appealing task

and I understand if anyone doesn't want to be a part of it.

- I'll do it. - Oh, great, Claude. It's all yours.

- I didn't know we could buzz in at any time! - You scooped it from me.

Note to self: delegate more.

Alex,

a word?

You do know I was Ligeria's top assassin five years in a row?

I know, N'udu. Very impressive.

And Canada, although a great country,

does not afford many opportunities

in personnel liquidation.

Next assassination is all yours.

But I've delegated this to Claude and I feel confident

that he will take care of it quickly and quietly.

Fine, let him have all the fun.

Hey, Alex, about the mission.

I know you've already picked Claude,

but I'm just gonna put this out there.

Picture me in a tuxedo, awesome hair,

- not too much product... - Get to the point, Burt.

I sneak up behind Stade, kill him with my pinkies.

Pressure points, that's all I'm saying.

[laughs] No.

Aa-aah!

- JoJo, where'd you come from? - My Desk.

Always so literal.

You can't let Claude do this.

- Let me guess. You want to kill Stade? - I'm indifferent.

But you should know that Claude's wife had an affair

with Stade years ago in Morocco. He's emotionally compromised.

Thank you. But I trust him to be a professional.

JoJo?

JoJo?

Creepy.

Stade's booked a room at the Highbury Sussex.

- Claude, you take it away. - Thank you, Alex.

I think I should get in close. No mistakes that way.

Good idea, very professional.

Burt and N'udu, you'll pose as a bellhop and a guest.

- Dibs on bellhop. - Stall Stade if necessary.

I plan on shooting him at close range,

several times, in the face.

Uh, we need this done quietly, no mess.

Right. So I strangle him. That's quiet.

Plus I can savour the moment when my thumbs

crush his windpipe and life drains from his eyes.

Told ya.

Uh, Claude, can I talk to you for a sec in my office?

Absolutely.

I know about your wife and Stade.

I'm concerned that you're not approaching this objectively.

What do you mean?

You're emotionally compromised.

[sighs] Maybe you're right.

The affair was 20 years ago, but sometimes Helene still

calls out his name in her sleep.

But she's with you now.

Who cares if years ago she had some passionate desert fling

with some dangerous stranger who unlocked places in her body

she didn't even know existed?

He's a dead man!

I shouldn't have said it like that.

I'll break every bone in his body and drink the marrow!

This is what I want to avoid.

I need this to be cold-blooded.

You're giving me lotsa hot blood right now.

You're right. Maybe I should take a half-day.

- Good idea. - Or I could take the whole week,

Really calm down, you know?

A half-day should do it. Do something with Helene.

I'll get someone else to take care of Stade.

As long as he dies,

and it's slow and painful.

And you take lots of pictures.

Go home.

Wallet size would be nice.

Thanks for taking this on, JoJo.

- You're sure poison's the best way to do it? -Oh, yeah.

It's quiet and the mess is all on the inside.

I've got cyanide, arsenic, dioxin, thallium, nerve gas.

Oh, wow.

You keep all this in the lab, in open containers?

Or we could go organic, use blowfish liver

or perhaps something from the venom tray.

I milked the snakes this morning.

Seriously, shouldn't these things have lids?

Next, we need to think about method.

Slip it in Stade's drink?

Sure. Or inject it into a piece of fruit.

Sprinkle it inside his shirt.

You can do that?

Oh, yeah. It's a poison of my own invention.

One minute the victim is picking up her dry cleaning,

the next, her skin is falling off.

Okay, lids on these things, now!

Okay, team, we are up and running.

I've hacked the hotel surveillance systems

and we've got visuals on Stade's room.

N'udu, Burt, do you copy?

Affirmative.

Aye, affirmative.

Why do you sound like a pirate?

Scottish. Aye, I'm Dougie.

Fine. JoJo, what's your status?

[door closes] I'm in.

Hello, poison toiletries and goodbye Stade.

JoJo, listen. I want to thank you again for doing this.

I know, as team leader, it should be my responsibility,

but I've got this thing.

You choke.

How did you know that?

N'UDU: We all know. All of you?

Aye, lassie.

Peter showed us the video.

We discussed it and we all feel safer with you away from the rifles.

Oh, no, I'm not dangerous. It was an accident.

Did that marshal live?

Yes. And I, for one, think she looks better with a prosthetic.

Okey-dokey, chokey.

Stade has entered the building.

How you doing, JoJo?

Almost done.

He's heading to his room.

Okay, JoJo, wrap it up.

He's on his way.

Done.

I'm returning to base.

ALEX: Guns, grenades, switchblades.

How'd this guy get all that stuff past airport security?

I can't even smuggle in face cream.

Come on, buddy, now's not the time to take a nap.

How about a wakeup call?

[phone ringing]

Hello? [dial tone]

Nice move.

Oy, what's this?

Hm, a tasty little treat for my mouth.

Ah, messy, messy.

Come on, drink it.

My God.

Aah!

Don't worry.

We've still got the poisoned shampoo and the toothbrush.

I'll get you out, you bloody chocolate!

[sigh]

Bollocks!

Bollocks!

N'udu, Burt, change of plans. Poison's a bust.

It's up to you to take Stade out.

Remember, I need this quiet and tidy.

I'm talkin' to you, Dougie.

Roger that, lassie.

I hope I'm not too rusty.

I haven't killed a man since the Ligerian Science and Technology Expo.

Time to warm the pinkies.

[elevator dings]

- Hold the elevator! - Close the door.

Yes, hi.

Uh, which floor, sire?

Fifth.

Say, uh, I detect a Scottish accent.

Whereabouts you from, exactly?

- I, uh... uh... - Aberdeen.

Because my family's from Glasgow.

We're compromised! Back! Back!

I'm warning you, I can kill you with these.

- Burt, what are you doing? - Pressure points.

One poke to his neck and he'll be dead before he hits the floor.

The pressure point is here. All it would do is tickle him.

- Who do you work for? - Terry Ellison in HR!

- No, what company? Tell us now. - Paperclip Depot!

What happened to your accent?

Burt, calm down. It's okay. He's just a hotel guest.

We need to keep moving.

You're-you're nuts. I'm calling Security!

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop that!

Oh! Ah!

Help!

[buzzing]

Help! Help me!

Alex, we have a situation.

We're trapped in the elevator.

What? How? No. You have to get to Stade's room now!

Let me back in. I can still poison him.

- Where did you get that? - I always carry it.

- You are one spooky girl, JoJo Kwan. - Thanks.

Looks like Stade's in the shower.

Perfect. I'll be right back.

Welcome to the Highbury Sussex, sir. How can I help you?

I believe you have a room booked under the name Revanche.

Certainly, Mr. Revanche.

- You're on the 10th floor. - Thank you.

Will you be needing the key to the mini bar?

Oh, no, no. I won't stay...

On second thought, I'll take it.

Thank you.

Come on, JoJo, hurry!

Sorry, but I don't remember ordering Chinese.

All right, who's this?

Mummy on the blower?

[imitates Chinese accent] No Engrish.

This is the hotel manager. Let the maid go.

Right, maids go around with jabbers, do they?

Oh, is she on the smack again?

She's a very troubled girl.

I clean room. You like?

Happy bubbles.

Wery fresh.

Enough games.

All right, I'm NISA.

So, NISA's doing MI6's dirty work these days?

That's a tough job, trying to assassinate the assassin.

Tell me about it.

Let the agent go.

I don't think so. Here's the deal, sweetheart.

I want a helicopter and when I'm safely away, you get the girl.

But if I catch a wink of you stinky little NISA buggers sniffing around...

this bint dies. You hear me?

Okay, Stade, we'll get you your helicopter.

But it's gonna take some time.

You won't wink any stinky buggers.

No one's coming near you.

Ah, maudit.

[sighs]

[sighs]

N'udu, Burt, JoJo's compromised. Stade has her. I need backup.

What's your status?

Still trapped in the elevator with Braveheart.

Please help me!

- The bellhop is psychotic! - Not just the bellhop.

Wait. Who's that guy with you?

- Who are you? - My name is Jeff. Please don't hurt me.

Apparently his name's Jeff. He's asking a lotta questions.

Because of your stupid accent.

I have assassinated lots of people and not once

did I dip into the gag bag of a goofy voice.

Oh, God.

Okay, Plan C.

I'm gonna try get the elevator going from my end.

Okay, I think I got it.

Did that work?

- No! - No! - No!

Who are you guys, exactly? Cops?

- Do we look like cops? - We're spies.

Don't tell him that.

Too late, it's already out there. Don't tell anybody.

Okay, how about this?

[loud dance music on P.A.]

ALEX [on P.A.]: Guys, did that work? Are you moving? Anything?

Claude! What the hell?

Claude's gone rogue. I'm going in to save JoJo.

Figure out how to get out of the elevator.

I'm going to need backup.

Come on, pet, what's the matter?

- Don't you fancy a heli ride? - Not really.

I can't believe I failed NISA.

Aw, don't be like that. Come on, give us a smile, eh?

Do you know how many men, women, and children

have tried to kill me and failed?

What were you gonna stick me with, anyway?

Half cobra juice, half toilet bowl cleaner.

Explodes the inner organs,

but leaves you smelling like a lemony bathroom.

- I'm flattered. - I was trying to impress you.

Then kill you.

We have to go out through there.

I'll give you a boost.

- But then I can't hold the gun. - I'll hold the gun.

Problem solved. Thanks Jeff.

Jeff can't hold the gun. He's the one I'm pointing it at.

Unless there's another guy in the elevator, Jeff's our man.

Jeff, give Burt a boost.

I don't want to help you guys. You're trying to kill someone.

No. We're trying to stop someone from killing someone for the wrong reason

so that someone else can kill that someone for the right reasons,

and we also save that someone who's killing for the right reasons

from getting killed by the guy we wanna kill for reasons that remain unclear,

at least to me.

So help me God, someone must die today!

Now give him a boost!

Stade!

Claude Lesage.

You slept with my wife 20 years ago and now you're going to die.

I get that a lot.

JoJo!

Drop it or I shoot the girl.

Right. Let's suss this one out.

Are you NISA or a jealous husband?

Both?

I told you NISA types not to interfere.

Your bird's about to die.

Ah, tabernouche!

STADE over the P.A.: Don't come any closer.

CLAUDE over P.A.: Just leave JoJo alone. You can kill me, if you want.

STADE over P.A.: OK. How about I kill both of you.

This hatch is screwed shut.

I will be giving the fire marshal a piece of my mind.

It just seems wrong. How do you live with yourselves?

Jeff, when you work your job... where is it you work, again?

Paperclip Depot.

But not in the store. I'm at Head Office.

And at this Paperclip Depot, is there anyone there

who commits evil acts that allow wars to be waged

in the streets of third world countries?

Uh, not really?

Is there anyone who does bad things?

Oh, Denise, in accounting.

I think she's stealing the desserts out of my lunches.

And she never invites me to mojito Mondays.

I mean it's high school all over again.

Good. That is what Stade is like.

Only mojito Mondays is a village

and not being invited is like a firebomb.

Well, then, he must be a real jerk, who wears too much makeup

and clothes that make him look like a prostitute!

Sure.

It's no use.

We're not getting outta here without a screwdriver.

Lucky for you guys, I brought my four-in-one.

Let's get this guy!

Wow, four ways to kill a man.

Yeah, well... I thought maybe, actually,

we'd just use it to open the hatch.

That'll work too.

Wait. This man came all this way to avenge his wife's honour.

You could at least hear him out before you kill me.

Oh, fair enough.

- Sorry. Who's your wife? - Helene.

- I don't remember an Ellen. - No, Helene.

Not ringing a bell, love.

CLAUDE: You don't remember?

Twenty years ago, Morocco?

I was on a bit of a bender back then. Lost years.

Oh, wait a tic. Was she a belly dancer?

No. She worked in a bank.

- Was she blonde? - Brunette.

- Nice rack? - Yes, back then.

Three children later, you know?

No, I mean they're okay, but gravity and, uh...

Let it go, mate.

Your wife was just one in a long parade into the stadium.

- The what? - Stadium.

It's what I call my bedroom. Sold out show every night.

Eeeuuw!

Are the women you sleep with mentally deficient?

No offence, Claude.

Oh, Helene, with an "H."

Yeah. I remember now.

She had a nice little bum on her.

I'm gonna make you scream like a girl!

Oh, yeah, Helene was a screamer. It's all coming back now!

Oh, my God, kill me now.

Ah, that's a nice idea, init?

Bastard!

Freeze!

Jojo!

Call 9-1-1. I got Stade.

- But I-I'm... - No! This is a job for Deadeye!

But... you... choke.

Really, JoJo? Now?

Okay. [cocks rifle]

Ah, you got this. Relax.

Steady breath, line it up.

One shot and Stade is...

You gonna choke again, Cranston?

Not gonna choke.

Not gonna...

[gunshot]

You missed.

Did I?

Ta-ta.

[yells]

[crash]

What was that? Are you okay, Burt?

Stade just tried to kill me, but I got him first.

- How, exactly? - With the elevator.

You didn't kill anyone. He fell down the shaft.

At best, it's death by misadventure.

I am so ashamed.

No, I killed him. He landed on a pressure point.

Well, all of them, really.

Take that, Denise.

She okay?

No. She's barely breathing.

If I didn't come after Stade, JoJo wouldn't be hurt!

Is he dead, by the way?

Yeah, fell down an elevator shaft.

- Fairly painful, I'd say. - Ah, good.

- Rest easy. I'm so sorry, JoJo. - Hang in there.

Feeling... better.

Effects... sub... siding.

And I'm fine.

How is that possible?

I've been slowly poisoning myself with venom every day

for the past 10 years, to build up an immunity.

What?

It's a hobby.

Well, I guess I'll take the rest of my half-day.

What are you doing?

Well, the room is paid for.

Thanks.

No problem. Enjoy your meal.

That's the worst Scottish accent I've ever heard.

- So you were saying? - Oh, yeah.

- Then Burt and N'udu got trapped in an elevator with Jeff. - Who's Jeff?

He works for Paperclip Depot. He's agreed not to press charges

if we buy supplies exclusively from him.

And he gave us a great deal on four-in-one weaponry.

- So is he dead or not? - Oh, he's dead, totally dead.

Deadskeys. Fell down an elevator shaft.

Uh it looks like an accident?

Yep, a brutal accident.

So if you ever need anyone else whacked, Ol' Deadeye's your girl.

Ah, funny you should mention it.

Sister Mary Margaret of the Devoted Heart,

wanted in 15 countries for murder, treason, and orphan rustling.

Make it messy. We want to send a message.

Hey, look, chocolate.

- Burt... - No! - Hm?

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