All language subtitles for Law Abiding Citizen.en.2010

(music)

♪ Hey Mr Tambourine Man ♪

♪ Play a song for me... ♪

- B...

♪ In the jingle jangle morning ♪

♪ I'll come followin' you ♪

A...

- You having fun, sweetheart?

- Yes.

- Ah...

Well, I hope you're doing

better than me, baby.

What are you making?

- A necklace for Mom.

- Yeah? Let me see?

Wow!

(knocking)

Another one?

- Yes.

- Honey?

- That's two today.

- Yeah...

- Yeah.

(knocking)

- Honey?

- Yeah?

- Waiting for the help

to get that?

(whispering): I thought

you and I were the help.

(pounding on door)

Go wash up for dinner,

pumpkinhead.

- Okay.

- Mm, smells nice.

Is that take-out?

(laughter)

- Mommy, look...

- Yeah!!!

- Ah!!!

- No!

No...! Ah!

(glass shattering)

(moaning)

(screaming)

No!!! No! No...

- You can't fight fate.

(muffled yelling)

(groaning)

(woman screaming)

- We gotta get

the fuck outta here!

What are you doing?! Come on!

(muffled screaming)

- Fuckin' stop!

Let's go!

- Just shut the fuck up!

(muffled screaming)

(dramatic music)

It's cool.

(zipper closing)

Kids like me.

- No!!! Run!!!

Run!!

(sobbing)

(sobbing)

(sirens wailing in distance)

(music)

- Nick.

- Bringham, what's happening?

- Willis is a rowing buddy

of mine.

Where are we on his kid's case?

- Willis?

- Yeah.

- Oh, I kicked it down to juvie.

- Now, why did you do that?

- 'Cause the case was a dog,

the kid was only 15

when he committed the murder.

- So you wouldn't want

to jeopardize

your 95% conviction rate.

- It's actually 96.

- Ninety-six now?

- Yes. Gotta keep your books

better than that.

- If I didn't know any better,

I'd say you were gunning

for my job.

- You do know better.

And you know that I'm aiming

much higher than that.

- They filed a motion

to dismiss,

but there's no way

that Judge Abrams honours it.

I think we can get him in RICO.

- All that time and that's what

you've come back with, Sarah?

You might wanna re-evaluate

your research skills.

What else have we got?

- She's right.

- Mr. Rice.

- RICO's designed

for this kind of thing.

Check out Section 901 of

the Organized Crime Control Act

and you should let Sarah

try this case, too.

- Mr. Rice,

last I checked,

I was running this firm.

- She's already done

the legwork. I'll oversee it.

I mean, Helen Keller

could try this case.

(chuckling)

- Okay, boy wonder,

she fucks up, it's on you.

(silently)

- Cantrell wants to see you.

- I'll be right there.

- No. Nick.

He wants to see Nick.

- You still torturing Bringham?

- I'm less impressed with

his Harvard degree than he is.

- Yeah, we can't all have gone

to Fordham.

- I went

to Fordham night school.

You know what I learned

in Fordham night school?

Law school's got nothing to do

with law.

- Guess you skipped the course

on interoffice politics.

- All I need is a jury

to like me.

Isn't that what you told me,

Jonas?

- The Shelton case.

Where are we?

- Went sideways last night.

Judge Burch.

- Argh... bad news.

What now?

- Let's make the deal.

- They killed a little girl.

- It's an imperfect system.

- And we its imperfect servants.

However,

you could win this case.

- No, can't take that chance.

Some justice is better

than no justice at all.

- You need to tell the husband.

- Okay. It's part of my job.

- Good.

Because he's waiting for you

right now.

- What?

Do you trust me?

Do you trust me, Clyde?

- Yeah, of course.

- Darby has agreed to testify

against Ames.

With Darby's testimony,

Ames will go to death row.

- Um, what about...

what about Darby, then?

- Darby will plead guilty

to murder.

- In what degree?

- Third.

- He serves, what, five years?

At best.

I... I don't understand.

I'm sorry.

- We had a setback, Clyde.

The judge ruled that the DNA

was inadmissible.

- What?

- Exclusionary rule.

The opposing council

manoeuvred it.

- You said this part of the case

was clear-cut.

We had the blood on his shirt--

- It's covered

under the same rule.

- Then what about the rest

of the forensic evidence?

- It's not... conclusive, Clyde.

- Okay, that's okay.

'Cause I saw...

I saw their faces.

I-I saw them do it.

They killed my little girl.

- You blacked out, Clyde.

Your testimony won't be reliable

when you get on the stand.

And the defence

will tear you apart.

- The jury's gonna believe me,

though!

Because it's the truth.

We could--

- We could lose!

And then we'd have nothing.

You would waste a whole year,

spend millions of dollars,

and then both of them

can end up going free.

- Nick, both of them are guilty!

Esp-especially Darby!

You know that!

- It's not what you know, Clyde,

it's what you can prove

in court!

- Please don't make a deal

with this man.

Please don't make a deal

with this man. He's a--

- Clyde, I'm sorry.

The deal is done. I'm sorry.

I made the deal.

- What?

How could you do that?

- This is just

how the justice system works.

Listen, I-I know you don't...

think it right now,

but this is a victory for us.

- Your office has certified

this agreement?

- Yes, Your Honour.

- Mr. Reynolds?

Any great insights

to share with the court today?

- No, Your Honour. No insights.

- Good.

Then I trust we can move forward

with Mr. Ames's trial

unimpeded by continuances.

A trial date is imminent.

(cell phone ringing)

(ringing)

- Yeah.

- There's no cell phones

in my courtroom, Mr. Rice.

We've been over this.

- I'm sorry.

- And over this, over this--

- I had some exigent business--

- Next time, it's mine.

- Ah, you married?

- Excuse me?

- Are you married?

- Please fuck this up...

so I can destroy you.

- I wish ill for no man,

but Ames deserves to suffer

for what he did.

I mean, you can't fight fate,

right?

- Nick.

- Once you make a decision,

live with it, move on.

This job, your best asset's

a short memory.

Don't beat yourself up.

Too many people out there

doing that already.

Look, there's some right now.

- Isn't this where you tell me

some type of old fable

or... wise tale that--

- All right, I got one.

Marcus Aurelius hired a servant

to walk behind him

as he made his way

through the Roman town square,

and this servant's only job

was to whisper in his ear

when people praised him:

"You're only a man,

you're only a man."

Okay, man?

- Okay, man.

That's bullshit.

- That's good.

- I don't think you even know

the story, man.

- You're missing the point.

It doesn't matter what they say.

- Okay, I got this now.

(guard): All right, easy, easy!

(press clamouring)

- Ladies and gentlemen,

one at a time, one at a time.

- So you'll be seeking

the death penalty.

- For Rupert Ames,

we will be.

- And Darby?

- He's pled guilty to murder,

but is a cooperating witness.

The DA's office has committed

all of its resources

to ensure that justice

will be served.

- Did you make any offer

to Rupert Ames?!

(press clamouring)

- I just wanted to say thanks

for being in my corner.

It's nice when the system works,

right?

- Get away from me.

- Come on, move.

(dramatic music)

(music soaring)

- Let's go.

(soft piano music)

(sighing)

- Uh-uh. What happened?

- What happened what?

- What's wrong?

- And you call my job boring.

C minus?

- Yes.

Well...

okay, now,

you gonna tell me what's wrong?

- Can I... talk to my daughter

for a little bit?

- Oh...

- Please.

- No! No.

- Please.

(sighing)

Uh...

first of all,

this is your father speaking.

- Yeah, she didn't know that.

- You never know.

Stay in there

as long as you can.

'Cause there's a lot

of crazy-ass people out here.

- Language?

- Your mother's a hard-ass.

(She laughs.)

- I'm right here.

- And Daddy...

Daddy wants you to come out

and be Daddy's little girl.

- I want her to come out,

'cause she's on my bladder.

(laughter)

Anybody seen my phone?

Hey, you seen my phone?

- It's not strapped

to your hand?

- No, it's not strapped

to my hand.

- Daddy, not gonna have

some of my French toast?

- French toast.

You making French toast?

- Mm-hmm.

- I can't, I'm running late.

- Okay.

- All right, here. Hmm?

Mm. Mm!

That's good.

You did this by yourself?

You're better than your mother.

- I heard that.

Smells good in here.

- Good morning, Mommy.

- Your lifeline.

'Morning, baby. Gimme a kiss.

You're going to your daughter's

recital this afternoon?

- Um...

I thought you were gonna...

order the DVDs.

- A video's not the same, Nick.

- Mom,

it's okay.

Dad's gotta work - I know.

- See? It's all right.

What does Dad do in the day?

- Lock up bad guys.

- And why does he do that?

- To keep us safe.

- Yeah, 'cause he wants us

to be safe.

- Baby, get your cello.

- All right.

- Thank you so much.

- You're welcome.

- Little Julia Child.

- Mm.

You know she's 10 years old,

right? You know that?

- I know that.

- She doesn't understand

why you're never around.

This good-guy/bad-guy stuff,

that's just talk to her.

- Don't do this. Come on.

I can't come today.

- You know you have not been

to one recital?

- How many has she had?

- Enough.

- Okay.

Well, we'll get the video,

we'll sit down and, uh...

we'll watch it together

as a family.

I love you. All right...

Thank you for the toast.

- Love you.

- Love you, too.

- Bye.

- Love you.

- Huh.

- So how's Chip?

- It's Chester.

- What happened to Chip?

I liked Chip.

- There is no Chip.

And now there's no Chester.

He kept calling and--

- Sarah, that's a good thing.

- I know, but I kept cancelling.

My case load's crazy.

- You know you don't have to go

to this if you don't want to.

- Yeah, I do. I...

What's it like?

- No biggie.

Like watching somebody

fall asleep.

- Except

for the not-waking-up part?

Does it bother you?

- Not anymore.

- Sarah, your legs are looking

real good in those heels.

- What are you doing, Reynolds?

Why are you here?

Your DVD player broken?

- Ames has no family.

I felt like someone

should be here for him.

- You're getting a little press?

Breathe.

(cello music)

- What I did that day was

wrong.

I should've never been there.

But I swear to God,

I didn't kill those people.

Wrong man's dying here today.

That's all.

(cello music)

(soft music)

(screaming)

Fuck!!!

- Oh, God.

(groaning)

- Oh, God.

- Take her... take her out.

- What the hell is going on?

- I don't know.

(screaming)

- What could have caused

the unexpected reaction

of the inmate?

- You okay?

Huh?

- Yeah.

- So, somebody killed the guy

you were trying to kill?

What are we calling this?

- Clear violation

of his Eight Amendment rights:

cruel and unusual punishment.

- Law school.

- Yeah. The machine,

how does it work on a good day?

- It's designed to be pain-free.

There's three drugs,

administered

in a specific order.

- From this point on,

we're operating

under the assumption

that the machine was corrupt.

- We're gonna need a list

of all the people who had access

to that machine.

- My people wouldn't do this.

- I appreciate that, Warden,

but I'm gonna need more

than a hall pass

and a note from Mom.

- Detectives, got this off

the back of the machine.

Check it out.

- Let me see it?

- Right there.

- "Can't fight fate."

- What is it, Nick?

- During the home invasion,

Ames's accomplice

said to one of the vics:

"You can't fight fate."

And then he said the same thing

to me in the courtroom. Prick.

I can't remember his name,

though.

- Have a look at this.

Your guy?

- Clarence James Darby.

- You got history with him?

- Put him away.

- Three years. That the going

rate for murder these days?

- It was extenuating

circumstances.

- Yeah, the only extenuating

circumstances

should be he didn't do it.

- Still, three years at Marion;

fucking gladiator camp.

You expect him to come back

a model citizen?

- Well, if you scholars wouldn't

contaminate the crime scenes,

I could keep them

locked up longer.

- Authorities have refused

to comment at this point,

but foul play

cannot be ruled out.

The prisoner

had been on death row

for the past 10 years.

His name: Rupert Ames.

- All we know at this point is,

what was supposed to be

a painless execution

has turned into something

out of a horror film.

(laughing)

(heavy-metal-music ring tone)

- Yeah.

(altered voice): Clarence Darby.

- Who's this?

- That's strike three for you.

Coke on the table,

bitch on the floor:

life in prison.

- Who the fuck is this?

- Look out your window,

south side.

- Is this a joke. Get up!

- Ah!

- South side.

(wailing sirens approaching)

- Motherfucker!

Shit! Out of the way!

(gunfire)

- Stay down!

He's heading north! Go! Go!

- Damn!

- Move it, move it! Go on!

(cell phone ringing)

- Ah, what now?

- Wipe the prints off the gun,

get rid of it.

- Yeah, uh, no, no, no.

- You fired six times, genius.

You bring any ammunition?

Lose it.

- Why are you doing this?

- I wanna keep you

out of prison.

See the abandoned factories?

Go toward them.

- Why?!

- There's a cop car there,

with a cop in it.

- What the fuck?!

- I tasered him,

but he'll be waking up

in 90 seconds,

so you'd better move.

(panting)

(dramatic music)

- Rise and fucking shine, bitch!

Wake the fuck up!

Let's go! Start the fucking car!

- Okay, take it easy!

- Do it!

C'mon. Take it easy. Okay.

Take it easy. Let's go.

Let's go!

Get it in gear, shithead! Now!

Do it! Go! Go! Go!

(suspenseful music)

Get the fuck out.

Let's go.

Get the fuck down there.

- Hey, what about my...

my wife, my... little girl?

I'll never see them again!

- Fucked up, ain't it?

(cell phone ringing)

Oh, oh, oh.

You don't mind if I take this,

do you?

My guardian angel.

I am impressed.

- You know why I'll never see

my wife and little girl again?

'Cause you took 'em from me.

(zapping)

(groaning softly)

You remember me?

Sure you do.

You came over to my house

once before.

You don't remember?

This...

tetrodotoxin...

(groaning)

... should be nicely

into your system by now.

It's isolated from the liver

of a Caribbean puffer fish.

So... it paralyses you

but leaves

all the other

neurological functions

perfectly intact.

In other words, you can't move.

But you feel everything.

It does absolutely nothing

to blunt the pain.

And you're about to experience

more of that

than you could ever

fucking imagine.

(Darby groaning)

(raspy breathing)

Easy.

Tourniquets...

so you don't bleed out.

'Cause you may be here a while.

(ragged breathing)

Saline solution...

That should keep us going.

Clamps...

nice and secure.

Comfortable?

Oh, you really are shaking.

(ragged breathing)

Sure you're all right?

You'll love this.

Adrenaline.

Now, this...

is so you don't pass out.

There you go.

How's that feel?

Good?

Now, what we don't want

is you swallowing your tongue,

so bear with me.

(gurgling)

Good, good.

Now, this is for your penis.

But we'll get to that later.

Scalpel...

for your eyelids.

In case you insist

on fucking shutting them.

(tremulous breathing)

You see...

I know what it feels like

to be helpless,

just like when I watched you

slaughter my whole family.

You know, you can't fight fate.

Right, Darby?

Mm...

Oh! And look.

I made this

especially for you.

(cranking)

You like it?

Yeah, I didn't want you

to miss anything.

Now you have the best view

in the house.

(rapid beeping)

You hear that?

Your heart is beating so fast.

Well, me, too.

Look.

Now they get

to watch you suffer.

They'll be the last thing

you ever see

as I cut off every single one

of your fucking limbs.

(groaning)

See, I wasn't lying...

... when I told you

that I wanted

to keep you out of prison.

That was the truth.

(moaning)

(saw buzzing)

(muffled screaming)

(screaming)

Thanks for the car.

(music)

- Okay, these are all

the case files on Darby.

I vetted through what I could.

We have crime-scene photos--

- Don't need to see 'em.

- Okay.

What's bothering you?

- It's Darby.

All the crimes he's committed

have one thing in common -

that was violence.

But yesterday at that execution,

that wasn't violence, that was--

- What?

- That was intellect.

- Okay.

What are you thinking?

- I dunno.

I'm just thinking maybe

we shouldn't be looking

for Darby.

(whirring)

- Jesus Christ.

(coughing)

(cell phone ringing)

- Rice.

- Good news, counsellor.

We found Darby.

I gotta say, though,

he's looked better.

- They found him

in about 25 pieces.

No legs, no arms,

eyelids were sliced off.

Gruesome.

- Shedding tears for Darby?

- Not quite.

- See your wheels turning.

- Think motive. Who has one?

- The husband, the father.

What do we know about him?

- He owned the warehouse

where they found Darby.

- What else?

- He's a tinkerer;

uh, little inventions, gizmos.

He holds two-dozen patents

that made him some money.

He liquidated most of his wealth

a few years ago

to buy

some industrial properties

around airports,

chemical plants, rail yards.

- This doesn't add up.

- No, it's weird, right?

- Search them all, Sarah.

See what you find.

(soft music)

(sirens wailing)

(garbled police-radio

communication)

(helicopter flying overhead)

(sirens wailing)

(music)

(shouting)

- Get on your knees!

Face down! Face down!

Put him down and cuff him!

(grunting)

- The crazy ones

scare the shit out of me.

- Is this guy a lawyer?

- No.

He's an engineer.

- Nick, look at this.

- We have zero evidence.

We're gonna need a confession.

- He give you any trouble

on the way in?

- No, nothing.

He wasn't too happy

when we took his bracelet,

though.

(doorbell ringing)

- Can I help you?

- Package for the Rice family.

- Oh, yeah. Thanks.

Mom, the video

for my recital came.

Can we watch it?

Please?

- No, not you.

No. Please.

We said we were gonna wait

for your father, remember?

- Please?

- No, not now.

Okay.

Uh-huh, yes.

(saw buzzing)

- Mommy?!

(door buzzing)

- Don't worry,

he's just disarming the guy,

letting him feel easy.

- What I'm about to tell you

I don't want anybody else

to hear.

As a prosecutor, I'm breaking

all the rules right now

and I don't give a damn,

because I'm a father,

I have a little girl,

and what you did... bravo.

The world is better

without Darby and Ames.

You're not gonna see a tear shed

from me or anybody in my office.

With that being said...

... I have a job to do.

I'm gonna ask you some very

simple and direct questions.

I suggest that you answer them

in the same fashion.

Is your name

Clyde Alexander Shelton?

- Yes, sir.

- And you've waived your right

to counsel, correct?

- Yes, sir.

- You sure you wanna do that?

(whispering): Yes.

- Did you murder Clarence Darby?

- I wanted him dead.

He killed my wife and child.

- Rupert Ames;

did you murder him as well?

- Rupert Ames deserved to die.

They both deserved to die.

- So you arranged

both of those murders?

- Yes, I planned it,

in my head, over and over again.

It took me a long time.

- All right.

I guess we're done here.

Counsellor.

You might wanna cancel

your 12:30 lunch

with Judge Roberts.

- Excuse me?

- In fact, you might wanna

cancel the rest of the week,

'cause you're gonna be busy.

Sit down.

- Ahem.

We're done here.

We have your confession.

- Mm.

Oh, you do?

- Yeah, on tape.

See, in our profession,

we consider that a slam-dunk.

- Oh, really?

- I don't think so.

Let's think back.

What did I say? That I wanted

to kill Clarence Darby?

Yeah, sure -

what father wouldn't?

Did both Darby and Ames

deserve to die?

I think most people would agree

with that.

Did I plan it over and over

again in my head? Yeah.

Who wouldn't fantasize

about that?

None of these

are an admission of guilt, Nick.

You might wanna check the tape.

- We know you did it.

- Well, it's not what you know,

it's what you can prove

in court!

Didn't you tell me that once?

- The only problem

with your theory

is that Darby's body was found

on your property.

- One of my many properties.

An old abandoned warehouse.

Junkies, they trespass there

all the time.

Isn't Darby involved

in the drug trade?

That's an unsavoury world.

I bet you a jury would agree,

or perhaps someone

was trying to frame me.

- You know, Clyde,

there's a lot of assholes

in prison that thought

they were smarter than me.

Let's stop fucking around.

- Nick, unless you have

any hard evidence,

then why are we even here?

Why are we having this conver--

- What do you want?

- Well, that's easy.

Now, you're the one who makes

deals with murderers, yeah?

So I've come to make mine.

I will give you a confession -

a real confession.

You just have to give me

something in return.

- Yeah, well,

since you are a murderer,

what might that be?

- A bed.

But a nice bed.

(laughter)

I want a nice new one

for my cell.

(cell phone ringing)

You'll have to deal with that,

because the one I have

is lumpy. It's making me crazy.

- Clyde, I think you've got me

confused with the detail people.

See, I don't deal

with prison conditions.

- I believe those cots

are bolted into the cells.

- Well, that's what wrenches

are for, dumb-ass.

You know, one of those

new Duxiana beds

with the adjustable... you know,

the adjustable lumbar support.

That's the one--

- I've seen the commercial.

- That's the one I want.

- Those are nice.

- 'Cause, really, Nick--

- It comes on late at night.

(both talking at once)

- ... focus on much of anything

until I've had

a good, revitalizing

night's sleep

in my therapeutic Duxiana bed.

So that's the deal.

You give me my bed,

you get your confession.

- Okay, let me think about that

for a second.

How about, uh...

fuck, no?

(buzzing)

- Hey, what are you doing?

- What do mean,

what am I doing?

- Why did you tell him no?

- A mattress? He doesn't make

those kinds of decisions.

- Take your ego out of it, Nick.

Shelton's got a point -

this case is shit.

We need a confession. A mattress

for a murder confession,

that's a pretty good deal!

- He's playing us, Jonah.

- Well, then we will play him.

- Nick.

There's an urgent call

from your office.

They say you're not answering

your cell.

- I need to finish up here,

and then I will be home

as soon as I can.

- Listen to me.

The things on this video, Nick,

I have never seen

anything like it.

Please, come home.

- No, listen,

you need to calm down,

tell her that it's not real.

- Okay.

- And that I love her.

- Come... home soon, please?

- Kelly, did you see his face?

- No. It was...

it was covered with something.

I couldn't see.

- Okay, baby,

let me finish up here

and I'll come home

as fast as I can, okay?

- Okay.

- This motherfucker sent a DVD

to my house

of him killing Darby.

- What?

- My daughter saw it.

- He recorded it? We've got him.

- No. No, he had on a mask.

We need that confession.

- You still wanna bargain

with this man?

- The art of the possible,

Warden.

Make the deal.

(shouting and banging)

- Back problems, Warden.

The worst.

- You got bigger problems

than that.

It's the have-nots in here, son.

I don't know that I'd want

to be the one to have.

- Turn around.

- I don't think he likes me.

- Nice bed.

- Thank you.

It's a single.

- We can't put Clyde Shelton

anywhere. Not in a job,

not in the city or the country.

So I dug a little deeper,

and I found something

from his missing years:

a couple of contract payments

to Clyde

from the Department of Defense.

- And his real estate?

- He bought nine properties

under his own name

and he transferred them

to some corporation in Panama.

We can't get to the addresses.

Lack of reciprocity's

our problem,

so I'm gonna circle back

to the farmhouse.

- That's a waste of time.

He wanted us to find it

and find him there.

It's the industrial stuff

that's curious.

I don't care what you have to do

and who you have to piss off -

if we have to invade

Panama again, fine.

Clyde is hiding those properties

for a reason. Find them.

- Got it.

- Baby, you leave it cracked?

- Hmm? Yeah, I left it cracked.

- Nightlight?

- Isn't she too old

for a nightlight?

Yeah, I left a nightlight.

- Okay.

- Look, I told her that video

wasn't real.

- Okay.

- It's some sort of horror film,

something she shouldn't be

looking at anyway.

- Okay, good.

- She'll be okay.

- Yeah. And you?

- Am I what, okay?

- Yeah.

- Of course. I don't look okay?

Hmm?

- Yeah.

Nick is always okay?

Always. I'm extra-good.

In light of Mr. Shelton's

economic means

and his potential flight risk,

the egregious nature

of both Mr. Ames's

and Mr. Darby's deaths,

the state requests that bail

be denied, Your Honour.

- Seeing as how you've waived

your right to counsel,

Mr. Shelton,

do you have anything to say?

Mr. Shelton?

Do you have anything

that you'd like to say,

Mr. Shelton?

- Yes, yes, yes, Your Honour.

Should I stand?

- Please.

- Uh, Your Honour,

I'm a law-abiding citizen.

I'm just a regular guy.

I am not a flight risk.

And this is my first

alleged offense.

And the prosecution

has not presented

one single piece of evidence

against me.

Now, in these circumstances,

unless the state has obtained

some new piece of information

relating to my involvement

in the matter in question,

then I find it

highly prejudicial,

even constitutionally offensive,

to keep me detained

without bail.

It's a slippery slope,

Your Honour.

Haven't we seen the result

of such violations

both internationally

and domestically?

Case in point

would be Day v. McDonough,

docket number 041325.

- I am actually inclined

to agree with you,

Mr. Shelton.

- Your Honour,

Mr. Shelton has agreed

to give us a full confession.

- Has he given it, Mr. Rice?

- No, Your Honour.

- Well, then,

in my opinion,

the state has failed

to establish a compelling basis

for its motion,

and I will grant bail

in the amount--

- Your Honour,

I will caution you

not to do that.

(Shelton laughing)

- Thank you.

- Excuse me?

- No, I don't think

I will excuse you.

See,

this is what I'm talking about.

You were about to let me go.

Are you kidding me?

This is why we're here

in the first place!

You think I don't remember

who you are, lady?

- I would tread carefully,

Mr. Shelton.

- Well, how carefully

should I tread?

Because, apparently,

I just killed two people!

And you were about to let me

walk right out that door!

How misguided are you?

I feed you a couple

of bullshit legal precedents,

and there you go,

you jump on it

like a bitch in heat.

You folks, you all hang out--

- I'm warning you! Mr. Shelton!

You will be held in contempt--

- --you let madmen and murderers

back on the street!

You're too busy treating the law

like a fucking assembly line!

Do you have any idea

what justice is?!

- You are now

in contempt of court!

- Whatever happened

to right and wrong?!

- Remove this man--

- --happened to the people?!

- Bail denied!

- Whatever happened to justice?!

- Bail denied!

- And I bet you take it

up the fucking ass!

Bitch!

- Bailiff...

- See you later, Nick.

- Insanity?

That's what you're building

your defence on, insanity?

- Nick, I told you

I would give you a confession,

and I meant it.

- I saw a movie today.

- You did?

- My daughter

saw the same movie.

- Well, you talked

to your daughter

about good vs. evil.

- I don't have to.

- That's what this movie

was about:

good conquering evil,

the righteous prospering,

the wicked suffering.

- I didn't get that.

I'm gonna give you

one more chance, Clyde.

And don't test me,

'cause I will run you over.

- Fair enough.

You did get me my bed.

A deal's a deal.

- That was you on video

killing Clarence Darby,

wasn't it?

- Yes, that was me.

(Rice sighing)

Okay, fair enough.

That was me, Clyde Shelton,

on the video,

killing Clarence Darby.

- Not good enough, Clyde.

I need specifics.

- I took his fingers

with bolt-cutters,

his toes with tin snips,

his balls with a hacksaw

and his penis with a box-cutter.

How's that for specifics?

- And Ames?

- Switching the canisters

was easy.

Everything's automated

these days,

so I just hacked

into the shipping-company server

and swapped a few numbers around

so the package came to me.

Then I switched

the potassium chloride

with something a little more...

deliberate.

- Well, I'm tired

of hearing your bullshit.

I got everything I need.

- What now?

- I go home, you go to prison.

You know,

the righteous prospering,

the wicked suffering.

That ought

to make you feel better

about the system.

- What if I had

another confession to make?

- Call a priest.

- But another confession

would mean another deal, Nick.

So you would have to give me

something in return.

You ever been to Del Frisco's?

They cater.

So for lunch, I would love

a 20-oz. Porterhouse steak.

Medium,

maybe a little bit charred,

with all the trimmings:

pommes frites, asparagus,

butter squash.

- Fuck you

and your pommes frites.

- I'll tell you what,

can I have my iPod as well?

I'd love a little bit of music

with my meal.

- First rule of negotiating,

Clyde:

you gotta have something

to bargain with.

- Would the life

of Bill Reynolds suffice?

- Open it.

(door buzzing)

- Who the fuck is Bill Reynolds?

- Darby's attorney.

- Tell me you located him.

- I've got his wife.

She reported him missing

three days ago.

Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.

- Well, it looks like I've got

something to bargain with

after all, Nick.

At the moment,

Bill Reynolds is still alive.

I'll tell you

exactly where he is.

Just bring me my meal

and my music at 1:00 exactly.

One o'clock sharp.

One o'clock, Nick.

(music)

- Good. Right there.

(dog barking)

- All right, Deke. Up!

- It's five to 1:00.

- I don't take orders

from him or you.

And inmates don't have access

to the time.

We tell them what time it is.

- I don't care

if he has a Rolex or not,

we need to stick to the timeline

that was agreed to.

- Fuck him, Nick.

Let him wait.

Christ,

he sawed a guy's dick off.

- Whether you like it or not,

we are on his time.

- Check it again.

(inmates shouting)

- Nice lunch, motherfucker!

- Come on!

I'm fucking hungry!

- What the fuck is this shit?!

- Steamed asparagus,

lobster macaroni and cheese.

- Wow.

- Porterhouse steak,

seared, medium-rare.

- Mm.

Mm, napkin, Nick.

- Napkin.

- Oh, excuse me, waiter?

You might wanna put 30% down

for yourself, my man.

Hey, what time is it?

- One o'clock.

- Is that right, Nick?

- It's 1:08.

- Well, that's disappointing,

Warden.

I mean, how can you expect me

not to fuck with you

when you can't even

be honest with me?

- Late or not, Clyde,

you have what you asked for.

Now where's Reynolds?

- Can I have some silverware,

gentlemen?

- Some...

- You get a spork.

Idiot.

- Thanks.

(crunching)

- Come on, Clyde.

- Okay.

Here we go.

Thirty-nine degrees,

57 minutes,

four seconds, north,

75 degrees, 10 minutes,

22 seconds, west.

You'd better hurry, Nick.

'Cause by anybody's watch

but the warden's,

you're already late!

- Open the door!

(shouting)

(suspenseful music)

- I'll take ground unit!

(music playing)

- So I suppose

if I don't share this with you,

you're gonna--

- I'm gonna get the fuck up,

I'm gonna cock back

my right hand

and split your whole fucking

skull in two. How about that?

- Come on over here, join me.

There's plenty to go around.

Here. Enjoy.

Have some pasta.

- Good.

- What about some steak?

You like steak?

- Mm. Okay, gimme some steak.

- Yeah, big piece for you.

There you go. How's that?

- Mm.

- Good, huh?

- What'd you do to get in here,

anyways?

- I did what I had to do.

- So you got a girl

or something?

- It's a long story.

- Pilot, how much longer?

- ETA, two minutes.

- How about you?

You have a girl?

- I got a few broads back home.

- Oh, yeah?

- Yeah.

(Shelton laughing)

- You don't have a boyfriend

in here, though, no?

- Get the fuck outta here.

(siren wailing)

(suspenseful music)

- This here, it's Reynolds's.

- Not a good sign, Nick.

- Just dig!

(music playing)

- Jesus Christ.

- Reynolds! He's unconscious.

Reynolds!

- He's gone, Nick.

He's gone.

- Tsk!

- Oxygen...

- Get something to get him out!

- And IV lines go to this...

Fuck, he's got him cuffed.

- Les, have you got your keys

to the cuffs?

- Mm.

- Mm, that's it.

- Ah, God, I'm so...

Your lucky day, huh?

Get some food... Here.

Wanna take a shot at this?

Know how to use it?

(words drowned out by music)

(music changing to heavy metal)

(heavy-metal music blaring)

- Shit! Check this out!

Get a CO in here now!

He's crazy!

Don't stop now!

Come on!

Take his head off! Take it off!

(music still blaring)

(siren wailing)

(heavy-metal music

still blaring)

(music stopping)

(guards and inmates shouting)

- I need a shower, Warden.

- Get him out of there!

- Dunnigan,

what time do you have?

- One-thirty-seven.

- Took us roughly 15 minutes

to get here.

- Yeah?

- Reynolds's air was rigged

to shut off at 1:15.

If Shelton would've got

his lunch on time,

he'd still be alive.

- Fuck this guy, Nick.

He wants to play games,

we can play games, too.

We need to take the gloves off.

- No.

- Hey, Nick, it's Sarah.

Listen, Clyde murdered

his cellmate.

The warden is furious,

he's moving him to solitary.

That's all I know right now.

(footsteps approaching)

- We found Reynolds.

- Oh, it was too late,

from what I hear.

- I had to call his wife

and tell her that her husband

had been buried alive.

- Well, justice should be harsh,

Nick.

But especially for those

who denied it to others.

- And your cellmate;

what was that about?

You murdered a man

because your lunch was late.

- No.

No. No, you murdered him,

because you couldn't keep

your word.

We made a deal, you and I -

1:00 p.m.

That's a pretty important

principle

I'd like you to start learning,

Nick, keeping your word.

- Oh, really?

Well, what principle was at work

when you tortured

and killed those people?

- That everyone must be held

accountable for their actions.

- You think your wife

and daughter would feel good

about you killing in their name?

- My wife and daughter

can't feel anything.

They're dead.

(gate rattling

and slamming shut)

(soft music)

(knocking)

- Hey, Nick.

For Clyde's real estate,

Judge Stansfield shut us down.

He's looking for some sort

of legal precedent

that I'm not sure exists.

- But?

- But I think I may have found

a way around it.

I'm gonna call in a favour

from a friend.

- Who's your friend?

- You don't name your friends,

or they stop doing you favours.

- Something else Cantrell said.

- No, that was all you.

Jonas, hi.

- She's thinking just like you,

Nick.

Guess you trained her well.

- One day, she'll have my job.

- Let's get some air.

Clyde's government-contract

payments were bothering me,

so I pulled

some ancient strings.

We're meeting someone.

- Who might that be?

- Someone who does

some really nasty shit

so we can live

the American dream.

- So Clyde finally lost it.

Somebody must've

really pissed him off.

- You worked with Shelton,

is that right?

- Okay, first of all,

I was never here

and we never spoke.

- Tell us

what we're dealing with.

Shelton was a spy, or--

- Spies are a dime a dozen.

I'm a spy, Clyde is a brain.

He's a think-tank-type guy.

His specialty was low-impact

kinetic operations.

- Just a hell of a fancy way

to say that he kills people.

- We kill people.

He figured out how to do it

without ever being

in the same room.

It was his gift

and he was the best.

One time, we're tasking

this tricky target,

and we were using

cruise missiles

and Predators,

and we even had a B-2 bomber

flatten this guy's villa

with JDAM.

We're burning up millions

in ordinance

and getting nowhere

with this guy.

So we call Clyde and ask him

to solve our problem.

Clyde develops a Kevlar thread

with a high-tech ratchet

made of carbon fibre.

Put it in a necktie.

Two days later,

Mrs. Bad Guy comes home,

finds Mr. Bad Guy dead

on the bathroom tile,

choked to death.

What I'm saying is,

just assume that this guy

can hear and see everything

that you're doing.

- No, we got him locked away

in maximum security.

- If he's in jail, it's because

he wants to be in jail.

He's a born tactician.

Every move that he makes,

it means something.

That cellmate that he killed,

you think that was random?

No.

That's a pawn being moved

off the board.

If I were you, I'd be looking

for the next piece.

Anybody who had anything

to do with that case,

he's gonna be coming after you.

- So what are you saying?

You saying we can't stop him?

- Walk into his cell

and put a bullet in his head.

Aside from that,

no, you can't stop him.

If Clyde wants you dead,

you're dead.

(music)

(phone ringing)

- Hello.

- Sarah. Sarah, it's Nick.

Set up a meeting

with Judge Burch.

We need her to help us

keep Clyde on ice.

- Help us with what, Nick?

The man's in prison.

- He's worse than we thought.

Chester's your boyfriend, right?

- Chester.

Yeah.

- Good.

Maybe, uh, stay a few days

at his place.

And have Dunnigan send

a patrol car to my house.

Sorry about this, Sarah.

(music)

- I can't supersede

the penal code.

You've already got him

in solitary.

A half-decent paralegal'll have

him out of there by next week.

- We just wanna limit

his options,

give him less contact,

less access,

even if it's just rescinding

his mandatory exercise period

for a week!

- Under what cause?

- Whatever cause you want.

Wrap it around

whatever piece of legal doctrine

that helps you rationalize it.

Your Honour.

- So let me get this straight.

You want me to violate

his God-given civil rights

in the name of some murky sense

of the greater good.

Is that the gist of it,

gentlemen?

Ahem-hem-hem.

Okay.

I'm game.

Just don't plan

on it sticking for long.

All right?

(cell phone ringing)

- W-wait. You gonna take that?

After all the grief you've

given me over cell phones?

- That's one of the benefits

of being a judge, Mr. Rice.

I can pretty much do

whatever I want.

(cell phone ringing)

Hello?

(panting)

- Oh, my God.

- Back up. Back out.

(door buzzing and unlocking)

- So you're killing judges now.

- In my experience, Nick,

lessons not learned in blood

are soon forgotten.

- And vengeance

keeps you warm at night?

- Vengeance?

That's what you think

this is about? Vengeance?!

- What else could it be?

- No, Nick,

I had 10 years for vengeance,

if that's what I wanted!

You don't think I watch you go

to work every morning, 8 a.m.?

Or that I watch Kelly

take Denise to school, 8:15?

No, I could've slaughtered

you or your family

anytime I wanted, Nick!

- You even think

about touching my family...

You even think about

touching my family...

I do my job.

I'm the best at it.

It works.

- You are doing your job

the way that best served you,

Nick,

the way that best served you.

That has to change.

- What do you want, Clyde?

You at war with the whole world,

it's not gonna

bring anybody back.

- No, I'm at war with this.

This... this broken thing.

This thing that brought

you and I together.

- This broken thing works

for people that are sane.

You think doing what you're

doing is gonna change anything?

You and whoever else

you have helping you

are gonna pay.

- I don't think

you have any idea

who's helping me

or what I'm doing.

- It's a matter of time.

- See, you see the bodies,

you see the smoke,

but the larger picture

still eludes you.

- Do tell.

- I would like to,

but I would rather show you.

I still have faith in you,

so I'm gonna give you

one last chance.

Here's the deal:

release me

and drop all charges by 6 a.m.

Six a.m., Nick.

- Or what?

- Or I kill everyone.

(dramatic music)

- Hello?

- Yeah, Sarah,

he has to have an accomplice,

probably somebody

inside the prison.

We have to go through

all the prisoners' files

to find some sort of

connection.

- Do you want the files

brought to the office?

- No, there isn't time.

Get everybody together

and bring them to the prison.

We're moving in.

Stop looking at your watch.

Anything from your friend?

- This treaty with Panama

is a mess.

We can't access anything

about specific

property holdings,

but my friend found

this tiny loophole

that grants us access

to Clyde's corporate expenses.

Does that help?

- So we match sell prices

and industrial properties

sold in Philly

up against purchases

made by his corporation.

- Okay, I got it.

Hey, Nick,

can I ask you something?

- Mm.

- Would you do it

the same way now?

Would you still cut a deal

for Darby?

- This is a job, Sarah.

We have to make choices.

- But did you make

the right choice?

- We made the right choice.

Right?

- I don't know.

I'm 35, Nick,

and there are things,

there are possibilities

that I'm not gonna have now.

And it's okay.

I know it's part of the deal.

And don't get me wrong,

I love working for you.

But I just wanna make sure

that I gave up those things

for more than just

a high conviction rate.

(sighing)

(music soaring dramatically,

then fading)

- All right. All right,

let's just get focused here.

This guy's not God,

he's not the all-powerful,

he's just well-prepared.

We need to be

equally well-prepared.

Take a couple of hours, go home,

come back

and we'll get a fresh start.

Okay?

(soft music)

(soft music)

- Hey, Nick, get some rest.

- Give Chester my regards.

When do I get to meet him?

- Oh, he's not ready for that.

G'night, Jonas.

(sighing)

- I don't know how

this one's gonna turn out, Nick.

- We're gonna stop him,

that's how it's gonna turn out.

- Ah!!!

(car alarms wailing)

- Shit.

(car alarm wailing)

Sarah!

(soft music)

(distant sirens wailing)

- In the past 48 hours,

six officials

from the Justice Department

have been killed

in a series of vicious

and premeditated attacks.

This marks the first time in

the history of the United

States

where government officials

have been,

by all appearances,

systematically murdered.

We'll continue

to follow this story

and bring you

up-to-the-minute...

- Nick, I'm sorry

to have to do this now,

but we've got something here.

- Found this.

Right outside the wall.

Radio beacon.

Sent an arming signal

to the car bombs

when they went through the gate.

- Security said

they checked every car

before anyone got here.

- They didn't check

the gas tanks,

that's where the clever prick

put 'em.

Real precise stuff, too.

Could've taken out a lot more

if he wanted to.

- What about Nick's car?

- Well, that's the weird thing.

It's clean. Hadn't been touched.

- I gotta go.

- Jesus Christ.

So let me get this straight.

Not only do we know who did it,

we have him locked up

and he's still killing people?

You boys

sure fucked this one up.

The press is gonna kill us.

Can someone explain this to me?

- We can't yet.

- How did this

get away from you, Jonas?

- It's complicated, April.

He's very smart,

he's very angry.

- We're assuming

he has an accomplice

helping him on the outside.

- I'm not having

this conversation.

I don't care how smart he is,

or who's helping him!

Release a statement

saying we have suspects,

we're following leads,

nothing alarming.

- Mayor, you have my word:

we are gonna stop this guy,

he's not gonna hurt

anybody else.

- I'm assigning security

to each of you from now on.

Get this situation

under control, gentlemen.

- No phone calls,

no credit cards,

no computers, just cash.

- Daddy, are you coming?

- Ah, yeah. Of course.

Of course I am.

- You'd better, Nick.

- We need to go.

- I love you.

Come on, baby.

- I love you, Daddy.

- Love you, too.

- Nick, phone lines are clear.

No bombs,

nothing's been tampered with.

You're good.

(door buzzing)

- Should've taken my deal.

- ...bitch, six fucking

innocent people!

Is that how you wanna play this?

Huh?!

- It's okay. It's okay, Nick.

I know you're angry.

That's good, what it takes,

how it has to be.

- What if I said you were right

and I was wrong?

What if I had said,

"Let's take him to trial," huh?!

- Then I'd say

you're making progress.

- And we might've lost!

And Ames and Darby

would both go free!

Don't you get that?!

Fuck!

- You didn't care, Nick.

You didn't even try.

You could've walked

out of that courtroom

with your head held high.

I could've lived with that.

- I'll keep my head up

and you will end this.

- I'm just getting warmed up.

This is Von Clausewitz shit -

total fucking war.

I'm gonna pull

the whole thing down.

I'm gonna bring

the whole fucking

diseased, corrupt temple

down on your head.

It's gonna be biblical.

- Jesus, Nick,

she was a good kid.

Did we bring this all

on ourselves?

- Absolutely not.

- You don't actually

believe that, do you?

- All right, gentlemen,

sorry, but we need to get going

if we're gonna make it

to the press conference.

Everybody, stay sharp.

We're on the move.

(music)

(suspenseful music)

- We all right?

- It's dead.

Electrical system's fried.

- What's going on back there?

- Dunnigan, tell them

to get Jonas away from here.

What the fuck is that?

- Get down, get down!

- Jonas! Jonas!

Jonas! Jonas!

- No, Nick!

- Jonas! Get your hands off me!

Jonas, get out of the car!

Jonas! Get off of me!

Please, listen to me!

- Jonas!! Jonas.

No...

(music)

- I told you to handle this.

You didn't.

Now we have a jailed psychopath

that has managed

to bring this entire city

to its knees.

One of my friends

was just murdered.

- More than one of my friends

is gone, Mayor--

- What I should do is fire you.

Hmm? Right now.

- I resign.

- Is that your real answer?

- I think that's best.

- No.

I'm not gonna allow that

to happen. Bring me the Bible.

I'm not gonna let some criminal

decide whether Philadelphia

has a DA or not.

As of now,

you're Acting District Attorney.

We'll have

a formal swearing-in later.

For now, this will suffice.

Stand up.

Put your left hand on the Bible,

raise your right hand,

repeat after me.

"I, Nicholas Rice"...

- I, Nicholas Rice...

- ... "do solemnly swear"...

- ... do solemnly swear...

- ... "that I will support"...

- ... that I will support...

- ... "obey"...

- ... obey...

- ... "and defend

the Constitution

of the United States"...

- ... defend the Constitution

of the United States"...

- ... "and the Constitution

of the Commonwealth

of Pennsylvania"...

(music)

People aren't going to work,

kids aren't going to school;

they're scared

and I don't blame them.

So I'm implementing

the emergency provision

of the Philadelphia Code.

We're gonna lock this city down.

Starting now, no one moves

in this city unrestricted.

I want a show of force

for the public:

uniforms, detectives,

12-hour shifts;

put an armed cop

on every corner.

If you have to give shotguns

to the meter maids, do it.

There should be no doubt

in people's minds

that this city's secure

and under our control.

- Okay, Clyde...

I get it.

- Listen, that contraption

that killed Cantrell,

it was a weaponized

bomb-disposal robot.

Can you believe that?

Damn thing had video,

night vision, you name it.

It fired military API,

for chrissakes.

That's anti-tank rounds, Nick.

- Tsk.

- I think he's saving you

for last.

Nick, I'm serious.

- Appreciate the insight.

(beeping)

- Nick, we've gotta get

in front of this guy

if you wanna stay alive.

- I may have a way.

Something a friend

is helping me out with.

- Who's your friend?

- A friend named Chester.

I'll call you back.

(sighing)

Thank you, Sarah.

It's Nick.

Give me the real-estate listing

of every industrial property

sold here in the last 10 years.

Motherfucker.

- You're kidding me, right?

You're saying

Clyde owns this place?

- Something about it

that sticks out, right?

- Yeah.

Wha... You gonna do

what I think you're gonna do?

What about his civil rights?

- Fuck his civil rights.

(Dunnigan laughing)

- Yes!

(groaning)

(metal clanging)

- There's gotta be something

in here.

- Yeah.

- Remember this,

from outside the house?

- Yeah.

- Get that right there.

(whirring)

(clanging)

- Un-fucking-believable.

(music)

Look at this.

(clanging)

- Watch your step.

- This guy tunnelled

into prison?

- Oh, shit.

- Fuck, Semtex.

- You got police uniforms,

other disguises.

(suspenseful music)

(rumbling)

He tunnelled into every cell.

- Over here.

- Shit.

He wanted to be transferred

to solitary.

- Surprise, motherfucker.

He's not here!

- If he's not there,

then where is he?

- Nomos, what happened

to your eye?

- Ah, long story.

(beeping)

- Stop right there, sir.

Let me see your ID, please.

- Yeah, sure.

- Thank you.

- Turn around, sir.

Extend your arms.

- Something going on tonight?

- The mayor.

- Hmm, the mayor.

(glass tinkling)

- Look at this.

He tapped

into the prison cameras.

- Jesus,

he's got cameras everywhere.

- Von Clausewitz.

Look at that.

He's at City Hall.

- Free to go, sir.

- Sorry for the inconvenience,

sir.

- No, don't worry about it.

Better be safe than sorry,

right?

- Get ready to evacuate

the building!

Gonna need a tactical unit

and a bomb squad!

- Bad idea. Have 'em come in

soft. If Shelton spots them,

or any of us, we're fucked.

(suspenseful music)

- Hey.

- Where's the tactical team?

- En route. They're coming in

soft, no sirens.

- Bomb squad.

- You're looking at it.

- Right. Okay,

we take the north stairs,

you take the west, you call.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- IDs, please.

- He's the fucking DA!

- Good for him. IDs, please.

- What's going on in here

tonight?

- Security meeting

with all the brass.

- What floor?

- Sixth floor, conference room.

- What floor is this?

- That's the fifth floor, sir.

- Directly below

the caucus room.

We catch this motherfucker

red-handed,

we gotta take him alive.

(suspenseful music)

- Where is he?

What the fuck

are we looking for?

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Right there.

- Stand back,

don't touch anything.

- Wasn't exactly

my first instinct.

(indistinct

police-radio chatter)

(indistinct

police-radio chatter)

- Let's see your ID, please.

(indistinct shouting)

- All right, next car,

move forward!

- Manganite.

That's napalm, basically.

This shit'll take out

the entire floor

and the one above us.

Looks like it's... triggered

by this cell phone here.

- What, so a, uh...

an incoming call arms it?

- Yeah.

Maybe 30 seconds

till boom time.

- Jesus.

- Dunnigan, what are you doing?

- I'm calling

the mayor's security.

- We can't. Clyde is watching.

He sees them evacuating,

he will detonate this thing.

We don't tell the mayor

anything.

- So what do we do?

- Wait a second.

We've got something.

He's pulling up.

(siren wailing)

(suspenseful music)

- Thank you for coming in

on short notice.

(Mayor):

I have one simple question.

Why is Clyde Shelton

still in my city?

Now, I refuse to believe

that one man

is smarter

than Homeland Security,

the FBI,

the Sheriff's Department,

or Philly PD.

I don't care how we do it

or what kind

of obscure legal justification

we have to invoke, gentlemen.

I don't care what laws

we have to bend.

I am sure there is a provision

of the Homeland Security Act

that we can activate.

Just get him out of here

by tomorrow.

- Clyde.

- Nick.

I wasn't expecting company.

Yeah, I would've, uh...

I would've cleaned up a little.

- Never seen anybody

tunnel into prison before.

And the, uh...

solitary confinement,

it's clever.

- Well, that's how winners play.

Yeah, we convince the other guy

he's making all the right moves.

So did you ever catch

my accomplice?

- Yeah, I did.

It's the end of the road

for him now.

You played us, Clyde,

you played us real good.

- Thank you.

Yeah, I'm glad you finally get

to appreciate

some of the effort

that I put into all of this.

- Well, you set out

to make a point, Clyde.

You made it.

- People still don't get it.

They don't appreciate

what I'm trying to say, Nick,

but they will soon enough.

- A man I cared about

once told me

that we can't retract

the decisions that we've made.

We can only affect the decisions

we're going to make from here.

- What, trying to save me now?

- I'm giving you a way out.

Big difference.

Stand up for those principles

you've been preaching.

See, we're all held accountable,

Clyde. That includes you.

Help me do the right thing here.

- I'm doing the right thing,

Nick.

You just have to see it

that way.

- By murdering all those people,

all you're doing is destroying

the memory of your daughter.

And causing the same pain

that you're suffering from.

- So what do you suggest, Nick?

Make another deal?

One final offer?

Is that what it is?

- I don't make deals

with murderers anymore, Clyde.

You taught me that.

- Finally.

- Finally.

- Well done. Bravo.

Maybe I wasn't

such a bad teacher after all.

- If you go through with this,

Clyde, it's a decision

you'll have to live with

for the rest of your life.

(sighing)

- I'm sorry, Nick.

- Me too.

Like I said, Clyde,

it's a decision

you'll have to live with

for the rest of your life.

Which I figure by now

is about 25 more seconds.

(suspenseful music)

(cell phone ringing)

(ringing)

(beeping)

(suspenseful music)

(soft music)

(soft music)

(soft music)

(soft cello music)

(rock music)

♪ Ain't seen a night ♪

♪ Things work out right ♪

♪ Boom bye ♪

♪ Things on my mind ♪

♪ And I just don't have

the time ♪

♪ And it don't seem right ♪

♪ Ain't seen a day ♪

♪ That I don't hear people say ♪

♪ They know they're gonna die ♪

♪ This may seem

a little bit crazy ♪

♪ But I don't think

you should be so lazy ♪

♪ If you think

you've heard this before ♪

♪ Well stick around

I'm gonna tell you more ♪

(heavy rock music)

(heavy rock)

♪ One just like the other ♪

♪ Sin's a good man's brother ♪

♪ But is that right ♪

♪ You tell me that I don't ♪

♪ Then I say I won't ♪

♪ But then I might ♪

♪ You said this is the way

it's supposed to be ♪

♪ But it just don't

seem right to me ♪

♪ And that's outta sight ♪

♪ Some folks need

an education ♪

♪ Don't give up

or we'll lose the nation ♪

♪ You say we need a revolution ♪

♪ It seems

to be the only solution ♪

(heavy rock)

(soft music)