All language subtitles for Killer.Elite.2011

(WHIMPERING)

HUNTER: Hey, kiddo,
what are you doing?

I buy you a fancy Mexican meal
and you're feeding it to a mutt.

Real fancy.

You have any idea what that is?

What? Tree chicken.

What?
That's what the locals call it.

Colds, headaches, hangovers,
cures anything.

Iguana. That's what they say.

What about indigestion?
Fuckin' iguana taco.

(CHUCKLES)

Yeah, well,
you had it in Salvador.

Yeah, and that was shit.

What about Angola?
The food was good there, right?

Shit.

Yeah, Rhodesia? Shit.

Hamburg? Shit.

So if it's not New York,
it's...

You got it. Shit.

Look at you wasting away.

We got to get a job
in New York.

That won't be a problem.
Plenty of assholes there.

(FLIES BUZZING)

Time to move, kiddo.

(BELL TOLLING)

(BIKES APPROACHING)

(BEEPS)

MEIER: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(MEN CHATTERING)

(ENGINE STARTING)

(GUN COCKING)

Oops.

(MEN SHOUTING)

(YELLING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(YELLS)

(SCREAMING)

(GUNSHOT)

Fuck!

(PEOPLE CLAMORING)

Stay down!

HUNTER: Stay down, kid.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

What happened?
There was a kid in the car.

What?
There was a kid in the car.

Go, go, go, go! Fuck!

(PANTING)

I'm done with this.
I'm finished.

I can't do this any more.

I can't do this.

(BIRDS SQUAWKING)

Oh, shit!

Shit!

AGENT: Danny, get in.

These camel jockeys have got
diseases I don't wanna think about.

Where is he?

The client still has him.

What client?

We're going there now.

Okay, drive.

AGENT: So the client's
an oil sheikh, no less.

He used to rule some huge stretch of
desert till his tribe kicked him out.

Been living here
in exile ever since.

Anyway, Sheikhy was loaded
and he wanted a job done.

Hunter took the contract,
then he ran.

They caught him at the airport.

And?

You know the rest.
You got the package.

Yeah, I got it.

What's the job?

Just came with a price tag,
no details.

Hunter took it cold.

Why would he do that?

Six million dollars.

A big score, Danny.

Too bloody big for Hunter.

Yeah.

Why'd you offer it to him?

He wanted the money.

And you were out, remember?

Yeah. Still am.

I'm done with killing.

Yeah, well, maybe
killing ain't done with you.

Hunter needs the old Danny,
the best in the biz.

The one with balls of steel.
You remember him, right?

Look, it comes down to this.

You don't do this job,
Hunter's a dead man.

They're waiting for you.

(SCREECHING)

This way.

SHEIKH AMR: He's waiting
for his eyes to adjust.

Be careful
around this one, boy.

(EXHALES)

My son forgets
the ways of the desert.

Since our war against the Sultan,
all he has had of his homeland

is this paint. Plaster.

My first son, Hussain,
was slaughtered here.

(CHILDREN SCREAMING)

Shot before his children.

And here,
at the Battle of Mirbat,

his brother, Salim, was
wounded and then killed.

Murdered.

And then my third son
was taken from me. Ali.

(GUN FIRING)

Hunted down and slaughtered.

The law of the desert
says the blood of the victim

must be washed away
by the blood of the killers.

But I refused revenge and saved my
last son, Bakhait, from the war.

So I was exiled to this desert.

I have wealth, power.

But rich men die, too.

When I die, I want Bakhait
to go home to my tribe.

But for that to happen, the killers
of my sons must be killed.

You don't need me
or Hunter for this.

You got all the men you need.

What use would my
men be in England?

England?

The English sent their fiercest
dogs to kill for the Sultan's oil.

The SAS? Yes.

Their glorious special forces.

It was a war.
It was not England's war.

They came to my land, murdered my
sons, now they will face my law.

The doctors say I have
six months left to live.

You must avenge my sons
before I die

or your friend
will die with me.

I don't care how
you kill the killers.

But they will admit
their guilt on tape,

and their deaths must
look like accidents.

This must not
lead back to my son.

So go, show the English a war isn't
over till both sides say it is.

(COUGHING)

I wanna see Hunter.

Oh, Danny!

No, Danny. No, no, no, no. No.

What are you doing here?
Get out of here.

You all right?

Am I all right?
Yeah, I'm all right.

You gotta go. Get away from here.
Go, go, go, go.

I'm not here for you anyway.

I was thinking about
the girls and Celine.

Me, too. Me, too.

(CHUCKLES) What's that
supposed to mean?

It's tough putting
food on the table.

What you feeding 'em?
Six million, no questions?

Well.

So you must've known
that was a bullshit job.

Yeah, I knew.

Fuckin' SAS,
a one-way ticket for sure.

Well, you took the job,
and I'm not leaving you here.

(CUP CLATTERING) Hey!

Give this man a drink.

I missed you.
I didn't miss you.

Every day you were out of this
game was a good day for me.

I was proud of you
when you got out.

Stay out.

Too late.

You should have stayed away.

Or run faster.

(GRUNTS)

(MEN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)

(GROANING)

Son of a bitch!

What are you doing?
Let me get my watch back.

(MEN SHOUTING)

Go, go!

Go!

Go, go, get the door!

Get the door!

(GRUNTS)

Give me the gun.

(BAKHAIT CLAPPING)

Bravo! Bravo! If you need to
be shot, I'll happily oblige.

I'm sorry, kiddo.

My father needs him alive.

(PEOPLE CLAMORING)

Nice try. You know
they'd have found you.

Everybody gets found.

(GROANS)

You knew.

My gut tells me you knew the target
and you knew Hunter wouldn't take it.

You used him as bait.

That's a lot of angles, Danny.

Do you think I'm that smart?

Get out. And you. Out.

ANNE: We missed you
at the dance last night.

DANNY: I'm not much
of a dancer.

Besides, I'm still trying to find
out how much house is under this.

Right, big plans.
Yeah, maybe too big.

You don't remember me, do you?

Yeah, well, it's been a while.

I'm Anne Frazer.

(CHUCKLES)

Anne Frazer?

Anne had red hair full of grass.
(LAUGHS) Yeah.

And weird red gumboots.

With eyes on them.

(LAUGHS) Oh, my God!

(PEOPLE CLAMORING)

Oi! You owe me 50 quid.
Told you he'd be back, didn't I?

We missed you. Yeah?

Here I am.

DAVIES: All right,
then, you want some?

(BOTH GRUNTING)

Yeah, mate, you still got it.
Still got that edge.

You're a real killer.

DANNY: Come on, let's talk.
(GROANS)

DAVIES: While you were away, you
didn't start a family, did you?

No.

So no one's depending on you?

Only Hunter.

'Cause one, you're
going after the SAS.

They're a paranoid bunch.
They always got their back up.

Two, you need info on Oman.
No one talks about Oman.

They went in there as advisors and ended up
fighting the fucking war. Real hush-hush,

semi-mercenary stuff.

Three, you need confessions.

They're trained
to resist torture

so no matter what you say
or do, they'll say nothing.

And four, Danny,

this is the best special
forces regiment in the world.

They make the Navy Seals look
like a bunch of cupcakes.

And not only that, you're trying to
take down three of their geezers

and make it look
like an accident.

All I'm asking is
give it some thought.

Take a day, more if you want.

I'm going anyway.

Of course I'm in, you silly bastard.
It's what we do, right?

Anyway, I've got a score
to settle with them.

Tried out for them
when I was in the Paras.

Did Hereford,
the whole fucking lot.

MEIER: What,
and they wouldn't have you?

(SIGHS) You want this
bottle shoved up your arse?

Are you upset? Would you like a lolly?
I'd love a lolly.

MEIER: Strawberry or fuck you?

Meier.

In.

Why?

Ah, six million reasons.
So what's the split?

After the Agent takes his
slice, 50-50 between you two.

50-50? How about you?

I'm in this for Hunter.

How wonderfully touching.

Touching, but fuckin' stupid.

The Sheikh could only ID
one of the killers.

I need you to come up with
the names on the other two.

Start with the one
they killed at Mirbat.

So the one target we do have
is Steven Douglas Harris.

Stayed on in Oman
after the war.

Ended up flying choppers
for the Sultan's armed forces.

Great. A juice junkie.

Me and Meier'll head there
to track him down.

Boys? Danny. Meier.

(MEN EXCLAIMING)

(HELICOPTER APPROACHING)

MAN: What the fuck!

(MEN SHOUTING)

MAN: Harris!

(HARRIS LAUGHS)

Harris, you prick!

Fuck off!

(HARRIS LAUGHING)

Well, I hope the buggers like
sand in their burgers, huh?

White Range Rover
coming your way.

It's Harris.

SANDY: What are you doing?

(HARRIS LAUGHS)

Come on, have a go. No.

Come on. I'm not.

Have a go. Look.

Just aim and shoot.
Go! Here we go!

(SCREAMS)

Oh, you horny git! Come on.

No. Come on.

(LAUGHS) Come on.

(HARRIS AND SANDY LAUGHING)

(TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

(HARRIS LAUGHING)

(SANDY SCREAMS)

(SANDY MOANING)

(MEN SINGING)

DAVIES: All right, ladies, you can
throw your knickers if you want.

Go on, you cheeky bugger!

MAN: You serve in Oman?
At Mirbat.

That was a day, wasn't it?

What about Mirbat?
That was a right mess, eh?

Wasn't good.
I had a mate there.

(PHONE RINGING)

DIANE: Spike, get that quick.
Yeah, all right, all right.

Bollocks.

Hello? Spikey, it's Bazza.

God's sake! I'm unplugging that bloody
thing next time, and I mean it.

Yeah, I'm onto this
bloke here, right.

He was in the Bear earlier pumping
some SAS lads for info on Mirbat.

Mirbat. And?

He says he's Welsh.
But he don't sound it.

I don't know.
Maybe I'm being a bit paranoid, but...

Hey, just 'cause
you're being paranoid,

doesn't mean to say
they're not out to get you.

All right, mate,
give me what you've got.

Okay.
Put one of my Locals onto him.

(BEEPING)

(CLICKING)

SPIKE: The Omani Embassy.
Our Local followed him into the visa section.

Says he's Welsh,
calls himself Mr. Jones.

We lost him after he left.

FITZ: Lost him? How come?

He never came back
to his car. Stolen.

Anyhow, he flies to Oman
in four days.

I'd like permission to send one
of my boys out there to tail him.

This was definitely
some kind of recce.

That was a dirty war.
What we did there was questionable.

Oman is a bloody hornet's nest.

Right. And if this bugger
is poking at it,

I want to know who he is.
I say we send a Local.

Any objections?

Noted. We'll leave you
to choose the right man.

I'd also like it noted
that we are ex-SAS.

The men we protect are ex-SAS.

And you, Spike, though you
hate to admit it, are ex-SAS.

JUSTICE: Remember, we're
businessmen and bankers now.

What we do here is illegal.

We can leave no trace
of our activities.

That's why we're called
The Feather Men,

'cause our touch is light.

THE DON:
Now, Spike's a good man.

Day the SAS lost him,
they lost a good soldier.

COMMANDER B: Yes, but the problem
is he thinks he's still in the SAS.

Well, someone has to do
the dirty work.

None of us want blood
on our pinstripes.

Listen, I've got no problem with blood.
What worries me is ink.

Make sure he keeps us
out of the newspapers.

MARTIN: What's doing, boss?

Your Arabic's
still good, right?

Good enough.
You're going to Oman.

I've got a bloke I want you
to tail out there.

You lucky bastard!

(SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)

You know what? You're gorgeous.

Where are you staying?

I'm staying at the Hilton.

As a matter of fact, so am I.
What room are you in?

Why? Would you like to know?
Love to.

AIR HOSTESS: You are smooth.

DAVIES: What are we doing out here,
then, in the middle of nowhere?

MEIER: Well, I ask him
to go hide it, he hides it.

Could've been your asshole,
consider yourself lucky.

Shut it, Meier.

Appreciate it, thank you.

These tiles are an exact
match to the shower step?

Hundred percent.

Harris comes home, parks the car.
It's been a hard day.

I'll have a shower. Whoops.

He slips on the shampoo, hits the
corner of the step with his occiput.

Case closed. Get out of it.

You boys are going
about this all wrong.

That bird he's screwing
is married.

Why don't we just pop 'em both and
make it look like her husband did it.

Pop 'em both? What's she ever done?
It's Harris we're after.

Poor bastard.

Ten years after the war, he cops it for
doing something he was ordered to do.

He knew what he was doing
when he joined the club.

Yeah, what club?
The killing club.

It could be you or me.
Yeah, but it's not...

I'm just glad
I never killed a raghead.

No offense, my son.

Let's get this done.

MEIER: Excuse my friend.
He's a royal asshole.

Shit!

DAVIES: Where's he gonna run?
It's the middle of the fuckin' desert.

Son of a...

Meier, cut him off at the next shaft!
Let's go, let's go.

Where is he?

Shh.

(GRUNTING)

DAVIES: Let's get out here.
Fuckin' hell!

MEIER: So what, now
somebody's on our ass?

DANNY: We should move
right away.

We'll set up Harris'
interview for tomorrow.

Davies, you make sure
his girl doesn't show.

She has nothing
to do with this.

(CLICKING)

Wanker!

DANNY: We're military historians.
I'll do the talking, all right?

Well, it's 5:00 somewhere,
isn't it?

So where's this documentary
gonna be shown, then?

On the telly?

The chair.

Those bastards in C Company
put this together. Hmm?

(LAUGHING)

HARRIS: What's the matter?
They didn't like sand in their burgers?

Eh?

Hello, boys. I'm not saying a
word till I see my lawyer.

Think back. The village of Qum.

You killed
a guerilla commander.

His name was Hussain bin Amr.
Do you admit it?

Fuck off!

You're kidding, right?

You commanded a company there.

Yeah, I led a company
on that op, sure.

And you assassinated Hussain bin Amr.
There were witnesses.

You dropped him
in front of his family.

(DISTANT SCREAMING)

All right, you got me.
I did it. Hmm?

Fuck you! Good one.
Now untie me.

Get up.

Hey! Piss off!

We have what we need.

(PANTING)

What if I told you somebody else
dropped your guerilla commander?

His name is...

I can't remember.

But he's writing a book
about the whole Oman gig.

You might find it in there.

If you could read. (LAUGHS)

To the bathroom.

No, no, no, no.
Wait, wait, wait.

It's coming back to me,
looking at your fucking face.

His name is Captain R.
Sole! A-R-S-E H-O-L-E.

Shut up.
You're fucking dead, yeah?

On your knees.

Fucking queers!
Serves you fucking right!

Head down. Get your fuckin'
hands off me, you queer!

You're fuckin' kidding me.
DANNY: Hold him still.

If I find you, I'll put your
fuckin' head in the toilet bowl.

Poor fucker.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(GRUNTING)

Jay!

I need money for the taxi.
I had to take a taxi. I had a flat.

HARRIS: Fuck you! (SCREAMS)

Case closed.

Thank you.

WOMAN OVER RADIO: Tells of a
dramatic 12-hour rescue operation

to save the crew
of Radio Caroline.

The pirate radio
ship sank the...

It seems your friend
did what you couldn't.

Wouldn't.

Wouldn't, couldn't.

He's avenged Hussain.

Good news for the old man,
not for you.

What do you mean?

Three brothers dead.
Rotting in the sand.

You didn't wanna get
revenge yourself?

Scared of getting
your hands dirty?

Better get used to it.

No palace where you're going.
A tent and a hole to shit in.

He's your worst nightmare
and he's gonna do it.

And when he does,
you're out of here.

When I find you in that desert,
I pray God keeps my aim...

true.

(HAMMERING)

Well, what do you think?

Yeah, it's coming along.

What are you doing
for New Year's Eve dinner?

Oh, shit!

(LAUGHS)

DANNY: Bollocks!

Strangers are a bit of an
exotic thing around here.

Oh, come on, I didn't
think I was a stranger.

I know,
but you're still exotic.

Danny, something tells me
you've got a story to tell.

Yeah. Mmm.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

(GUNSHOTS)

Come on,
what are you waiting for?

Party's outside.

MAN: Happy New Year!

(PEOPLE CHEERING)

Happy New Year!

It's a tradition around here.

Happy New Year!

Shit!

Mirbat. The artist's
name is on the back.

Have them talk to him.

One more thing.

My boys had some
trouble in Oman.

Somebody was tailing them.

We'll have to have a look
into that, won't we?

Yeah.

Ah, that's how you get it
so lifelike, then. Sorry?

Photos of the lads.
Isn't that like cheating?

I'm recreating an historical event.
Accuracy is everything.

Mmm.

That Mirbat painting stopped
me cold when I saw it.

You were at Mirbat?

Had a mate there.

I was hoping you might
have an address for him.

You're with the SAS? Was.

Then your best bet for an address
would be Regimental Association...

They won't talk to me.

Spent the last few years
plying my trade overseas.

Angola and that.

I come to you unofficial like.

Ah.

Well, I might have
something somewhere.

Just give me a few minutes.

Be my guest.

I got a bullshitter
askin' about Mirbat.

Yeah. He claims
he's with the regiment.

No, there's no way he was SAS.

Yeah, I can smell it off him.
Ah, he's a bloody fake.

(SCREAMING)

(GRUNTING)

My contact says
the call was cut off,

but Gowling said that there was
somebody there asking about Mirbat.

It has to be our guy.

And what would you
have us do about it?

Find him.

If we don't, there's gonna be another murder
and it will be one of our Mirbat boys.

Then who are they?

Well, they're pros for sure.

If these guys are
going after the SAS,

they're gonna be top-class
professional assassins.

They must have a string
of hits behind them

but they're completely
under the radar.

All we've got is Oman.

Oman?

We all know
our people went too far.

Oman, Mirbat.
It all needs to be left alone.

You should try telling
that to the Welshman.

He's right.

We have to find this phony
Welshman and his group.

DAVIES: The file says
an SAS officer

killed the Sheikh's son
at the Battle of Mirbat.

Warrick Steven Cregg.

He was the only officer there that night.
Killed everything that moved.

He's our worst nightmare.
A real hotshot.

Paintings of him, the lot.

Where did you get this?

The bloke
who did the paintings.

Don't you worry
about that, all right?

He's shuffled off
this mortal coil.

That wasn't part of the deal.

Come on, shit happens when you play
in the deep end of the pool, Danny.

Why couldn't you two
stick to the plan, huh?

You've been watching this Cregg,
what's your next big idea?

His wife's in hospital.

When he's not training
for the selection march,

he spends most days there.

MEIER: So why don't we
hit him there?

DANNY: No. Not near his family.

Get me everything
you know on that march.

We'll see where that goes.

Okay, so,

there's only four Mirbat
survivors in Britain.

I've got Locals
on the other three.

You get the celebrity.

Warrick Cregg?

You're kidding.

Wish I was.

DAVIES: Welcome to hell,
the SAS selection march.

Forty-one miles,
fifty-five pounds of gear.

They lose someone
every couple of years.

Don't you even think about it.

Why not?

During the march this place
is crawling with SAS.

Yeah, you said it yourself.
It's an accident waiting to happen.

How are you gonna
catch him then?

He's been training for months,
he's like a greyhound.

We'll just have to
slow him down, won't we?

Insulin. Chlorpropamide.

Initial here.

Anything doing?

No, Cregg's still in there
with his missus.

Here, boss, this will keep you going.
Cheers.

Pennock. I need you
back here, mate. Pronto.

(ENGINE REVVING)

(WOMEN SCREAMING)

(HONKING)

Get out of the fucking way!

WOMAN: Maniac!

(YELLS)

(GRUNTING)

(FIRE ALARM RINGING)

(GROANS)

You wouldn't fucking believe it,
somebody was watching Cregg.

What? Mmm.

You think he's from the same stable
as the shooter in the desert?

Maybe. He was good.

Whoever he is, he's too late.

Ah, good, good.

Chroma slows him down.

Insulin

sends him into shock.

Hypothermia to you.

And when were you planning
on getting it to him?

Before the march.

How?

It's an SAS base, Danny.

That you trained in.

So think back.
The security layout, the lot.

You're nuts.

Are you gonna do it?

Man, you really are one crazy
son of a bitch, Danny.

(MUSIC PLAYING ON RADIO)

Clock's ticking.
You've got under a minute, all right?

We've got company.

Lovely night.

You can't stop here, mate.

I didn't stop, the truck did.

If you don't fucking move it,
we will.

All right, all right.
But it's pissing oil, mate.

There's nothing
I can do about it.

Turn off the bloody radio.

MAN: Where's your gear?

Right. On the trucks!

SERGEANT 1: I don't care
what regiment you're from.

I don't care how great
you think you are.

Let's see what
you're made of, ladies.

On the trucks.
SERGEANT 2: Come on!

Get moving, you lot.

(WIND HOWLING)

He only got half the dose.

Is it enough?

MEIER: Enough? He's a dead man walking.
Stay on him, okay?

DANNY: His name was Salim bin Amr.
Do you remember the name?

Did you kill him? Think back.

Did you kill him, Major?

CREGG: Yeah, I did.

I did the bastard.
So bloody what?

Danny didn't want to do this.

DANNY: You did?

And your boy doesn't want
to go back to the desert.

(CREGG SHOUTING ON VIDEO)

(CREGG SCREAMING)

TV BROADCASTER:
The Ministry of Defence

today announced the death of an
army officer during maneuvers.

Thirty-three-year-old,
Major Warrick Steven Cregg,

died of exposure during an SAS
exercise on the Brecon Beacons.

Weather conditions at the time were
described as appalling, with...

(LOUD MUSIC PLAYING)

Hey! Hey!

Show a bit of respect, lads.

Top that.

I come bearing gifts.

Oi!

AGENT: From my boys in Angola.

(CHUCKLES)

I have no idea how you're
meant to eat this.

So. So.

Who's on our ass?

I'm on it. Don't worry.

Look, there's only
one more to go.

After this is done, I'll get you
boys a nice, cushy job in the sun.

Hmm?

There is no "after this."

I'm a vulture.

I live off killers.

It gives me
a unique perspective.

Have you heard of the two percent?
That's you.

Davies, the SAS, all you lot.

Mercenaries, hit men, heroes.

You're all part of that two percent
of men who are natural killers.

That's why
you'll never get out.

You can't run away
from who you are, Danny.

That's not who I am,

that's what I've done.

And I can do something else.

Yeah, yeah.

That's all nice and good.

But let's just take care
of business first, shall we?

Your third target,
Major Simon McCann,

Mad Simon McCann of late.

How'd you find him?

Asked around. It was easy.

These days, he's your basic
"cash for trash" mercenary.

He's a sitting duck.

Now didn't I tell you
I came bearing gifts?

You know where to find me.

DAVIES: You don't trust
that snake, do you?

He's lying.

Yeah? How do you know?

His lips were moving.

He just gave us a third target.

You've done nothing
on that last file.

Someone's onto us.

I want Hunter out of there.

I want this finished.

And I want to be around to
enjoy the money when it is.

The first thing you should
buy is a pair of balls.

We're going after McCann,
all right?

ANNE: I miss you.

There's a lot I don't know about
you, but I do know that much.

I convince myself
that everything's okay

because when I'm
with you I'm happy.

But then you go away and I realize
that I know nothing about you.

I don't know where you go and I
don't know what you do, I mean,

you've got a whole
nother life, Danny.

Is there someone else?

Come on, Anne.

Well, then, what is it?

I mean, Jesus, what are you not telling me?
What are you hiding?

Can we talk about this
when I get back?

To hell with it.

Fuck.

What?

You show me a beautiful woman,

I'll show you a bloke
that's sick of her shit.

Shut up.

Roger that.

(MEN LAUGHING)

DANNY: That him?
DAVIES: That's him.

Major Simon McCann.

Served in the Sultan's forces till
he was pensioned out four years ago.

And another.

Oi!

What the fuck do you
think you're doing?

Piss off, grandpa.
You want some?

(GRUNTS)

Oh!

DANNY: Doesn't look
like an invalid.

Like I said, a bomb went off under
his jeep, scrambled his wiring.

He can't keep a job.

He's a fucking psycho.

(GRUNTING)

Jesus.

Come on, mate, that's enough.

What's he doing here?

That's the one I went head-to-head
with at the hospital.

Right.

Wait, wait, wait.

Let's go.

Stick with him.

Mac, it's me. You okay?

McCANN: Oh, yeah, still scraping
skinheads off my doorstep.

All right, mate.

I was just checking in.

Bloke who drives
that green Jag,

what's his name?

AGENT: His name's Spike Logan.

He's an ex-soldier
of some kind.

He got his eye shot out
playing a hero somewhere.

He's got no job
and he keeps odd hours.

Hmm.

Don't you know
who these guys are?

I mean, secrets being
your bread and butter.

Don't worry about it.

I do worry about it.
You should, too.

Every move my guys make,
these lot are waiting.

You ask me,

I think it's time you put those fancy
shoes of yours on a few throats.

Yes. But no one is asking you.

DAVIES: You'll be interviewing for
a security position, Mr. McCann.

McCANN: Right.

Actually we got your name from
a mutual friend in the SAS.

Yeah, really?

So, we'll see you Tuesday
the 17th, at 10:00.

Okay. We look forward to it.

See you then.
All right, my son.

He'll be there.

Good. I don't get it.

McCann lives here.

He'll be here for the
interview, Tuesday at 10:00.

He'll take this road.

The Boston Brakes. Perfect.

They weren't perfect in Boston.

I wasn't at the controls.

We've got 10 days.

MEIER: Ten days?

The quicker we get
this done, the better.

I'm going to need
to bring in some help.

Okay. DAVIES: "Okay.
" Just like that?

McCann's being watched.

How are you gonna get a
confession out of him?

We aren't.

We'll fake it.

Bit of bad lighting
and camera work,

you could be him.

What we'll do is play back what
he admitted to in the reports.

Who are you?

I'm the one they let fly around in an
unmarked chopper with a gun in my pocket.

You can call me MFWIC. "MFWIC"?

Mother Fucker What's In Charge.

We have questions.

About this little illegal club
of yours, The Feather Men.

Your attack dog,

time to bring him to heel, eh?

And then we'll put that
on the agenda.

Gentlemen.

We'll be with you in a minute.

I want to put Locals on Major
McCann around the clock.

I realize McCann is an old friend of
yours, but what has it to do with us?

But this is our chance to get the
bastards who killed Cregg and Harris.

The authorities found no evidence
of foul play in either case.

What are you talking about,
"No evidence?"

I've got the evidence
right here.

Everybody in this room knows
that those men were killed.

Everybody knows that McCann
is going to be next.

That's enough, Spike.
We have to do something.

THE DON: Well, we could
put it to the vote.

Yes, but that would require
the full committee.

And it will have to wait.

Spike. That was a set-up.

He sent him away.
He knew there'd be a vote.

Spike, please. Look, listen.

This is getting big.

The powers that be are asking questions.
Pressure's being applied.

They have their
reputations to protect.

I'm not doing this
to protect reputations.

You know, a light
touch is one thing,

but no touch at all?
I can't do this.

You realize this thing is set
up for maximum deniability?

You're the only one
who knows the Locals.

All their orders
come through you.

So?

So? If this comes out,

you're the one
who takes the fall.

Fall? From where?

I am done with this
whole committee thing.

I'm gonna find him.

MEIER: He's a good kid,
don't worry.

I'm shtupping his mom.

DAVIES: Does he know he can't
bring his mom on the job?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

DAVIES: Tell your mates
in Oman I said hello.

Danny,

is this what it was like
when you were first starting?

This is your first job?

Jesus.

My first time, I puked
for a day afterwards.

I was young and dumb, just
the way the army likes them.

I could be good at this, man.

I mean, it's easy, yeah?

Killing's easy.

Living with it
is the hard part.

PORTER: If I see him,
I'll give you a bell.

Don't be shy about
spreading the word.

There's a very
tidy finder's fee.

I'll keep my eyes peeled.

One more and we'll
call it a night.

JAKE: We're on.

MEIER: He's late.

Just keep me at 75 feet

and give me a clear line of sight.
Yeah, okay.

Where'd you buy your license?

On his tail.

Doing 60.

You'll have a visual
on Danny in one minute.

Stay with him, Jake. I got him.

DAVIES:
We have target in sight.

JAKE: Gonna miss it.

Come on, get in.
Get in behind him!

Just do it, get in!
There's not enough room!

Push him! I can't get in there.

Okay, then overtake him. Go!

Pass him!

DAVIES: What the hell
are you doing, Meier?

MEIER: I need
a range countdown.

Meier, don't screw this up.

I'll operate looking backwards.

Relax, Meier.

Davies will give you
the countdown.

DAVIES: 400 meters.

MEIER: Okay, range me.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

300 meters.

Outside lane, Meier.

200 meters.

Here he comes.

100 meters.

(HORNS HONKING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Now, now. Now, Meier! Shut up!

Now, Meier!

Fishtail! Fishtail!

(SCREECHING)

Oh! Oh!

JAKE: You fucking got him!

You got him, man.

MEIER: Oh, fuck, he's dead.
He's dead as Elvis.

You got him, man!

Stop the car.

We gotta be sure Elvis
has left the building.

DAVIES: Target had a minder.

Head to the exit point.

Bring him to me.

He had a fucking minder. Fuck!
You got him, man. You got him!

Shut up! Drive! Go! Go! Go!

Who is he? I don't know.
Give me an update, Davies.

Oh, man, he's coming fast!

Up here there's a yard.
Take a left.

Shit! Up here to the left.
Keep going.

Hold on.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Come in, Davies.

Davies, where the fuck are you?

Got you, you bastards.

MEIER: Fuck this!

Go! Go!

JAKE: Here he comes!
Here he comes!

(GRUNTS)

Get out of the car!

Where the fuck
do you guys come from?

Step away from the car. Easy.

Jake. Yeah?

Take it easy. Check the car.

Slowly.

No, no, no, no!

No!

(RETCHING)

He had no ID.

Nothing.

Not a fucking thing.

Who the fuck is he?

This shouldn't have happened.

This should not have
fucking happened!

Take it easy, Danny. Danny...

Take it easy?

We were out of there.
Clean. Done.

(MAN SPEAKING OVER RADIO)

PENNOCK: Look, I'm getting nothing.
Campbell's not picking up.

Is there anything at your end?
Fuck.

Who are these bastards?

I don't know. But they're looking for
their man and they're not legit.

Jake, call this number.

Tell the Agent we need
a cleanup crew here ASAP.

And wire that radio
into my car.

Gimme here.

That's it then. Yeah.

Done.

I fly tonight.

You should get going, too.
They're close.

What happens to Meier's cut?

There has to be somebody.

Poor sod.

I'll have a hooker for him.
He'd like that. (CHUCKLES)

Yeah.

Be safe.

You too, Davies.

PENNOCK: Sorry. We're still looking
for Campbell, but it looks bad.

Thank you, sir.

If there's anything else...

Room service.

Something exotic.

(PHONE RINGING)

Yeah?
PORTER: I found your Welshman.

You sure it's him? I'm sure.

(SCREAMING) Fucking hell!

Get up. Get dressed. Move!

Look... Get up!

Don't say a word to anyone.
Do you understand?

You killed Simon McCann,
didn't you?

Yeah? And Campbell.

Where is he, you fucker?

Never heard of him.

That all you got?

Yeah, Spike?

We got the Welshman.

We're bringing him
to you now. Over.

SPIKE: Nice work, Pennock.
Well done.

I'm looking forward
to meeting the bastard.

Hey, Spike's gonna cut your dick off and
shove it in your mouth. You like that?

I like the sound of that, yeah.
Do you?

Yeah, I do. Get in the van.

Get in. Come on, get in!

Fuck me. You're kidding.

Come on. Get in!

There you are, you prick.

Oi!

Open up.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(PANTING)

Boss.

What am I meant
to do with that?

He had this on him.

A phone number. Great work.

That pile of mincemeat was our best chance
of finding out who these bastards are.

Print him and trace
that bloody number.

You fucking idiots!

DANNY: Drop it.

Left hand.
Put the gun on the floor.

Kick it to me.

The Welshman, they were bringing
him to you. Where is he?

He didn't make it.

You? You do it?

A truck.
He made a break for it.

He got lucky.

Would have been
very slow otherwise.

Yeah, well that was
my fucking friend.

Yeah, and McCann was mine.
And what about fucking...

Campbell?

No.

Davies. Meier. Harris.

McCann. Cregg. Campbell.

Too many names on that list.

Don't go adding yours, Spike.

Inside.

Who are you?

Doesn't matter.

After tonight, I don't exist.

What the fuck is that
supposed to mean?

It's over.

Done. You think so?

No uniform,
no war, not special.

You don't know what
to do with yourself.

Nobody knows
what to do with you.

Right? Wrong.

You know my name
but you don't know me.

You have no idea
who you're fucking with.

Really?

Don't follow me.

Don't put your name
on that list.

The third confession.

SHEIKH AMR: The killers
have been killed,

now you can go home.

BAKHAIT: You can have your man.

You will get the money
when it's been checked.

Bring him out.

Bring him out!

Let me put...
I just wanna put my watch on.

What's the matter with you?

You all right? Yeah.

What's the plan?

Get out of here.

Okay, sounds good.

I was sure you were gonna
get yourself killed, kiddo.

How in the hell did you do it?
How'd you pull it off?

I don't want to talk about it.

I get it.

Thank you. Not from me, but
from my kids for having a dad.

I could never thank you enough
for what you did. Never.

Yeah, you can.

You can get out of the business.
Be done with this shit.

No more soldiering.

No more mercenary work.

All right. Okay, okay.

I'm asking you, please.

Tell me you're done.

I'm done. I'm out. Good.

Stay out. Otherwise
all this is for nothing.

So, how are the Yankees doing?

You could have called.

You wouldn't have answered.

No. Sorry about that.

You're sorry?

It's me who should be sorry.

So it's over?

You going back again?

No.

And you're ready to
tell me everything?

Whatever you want to know.

Good.

Except I don't want to know.

Not any more.

(SIGHS)

I've...

I've missed you, Danny.

I don't really care about the
past, I just care about now.

Hey, boss. All right, Cal?

That phone number?
That was a business.

It's for some shit
travel agent.

Runs mercenaries in and out of
every shithole in the world.

Come in.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

AGENT: Hello, Danny.

How'd you get this number?

Please, Danny, don't
insult my professionalism.

What do you want?

We got a problem with the job.

The job's done. No.

You killed the wrong guy.

There's one more to go.

I busted my nuts setting this
job up and I want my 10%.

No, I did what I had to do.

Tell that to the Sheikh.

He wants a London
meet with his son.

Check with your girlfriend before
you make any rash decisions. Eh?

(DOG BARKING)

What are you doing?
Come to bed.

Come with me, Anne.

What? To Paris.

You can wait for me there
while I'm in London.

Leave tomorrow.
Nothing's keeping you here, right?

It's the middle of the night.
Anne. Anne!

They know about you.

Who knows about me?

And about us.

When will this be over?

Soon.

If all goes well.

It will, won't it?

Danny.

Keep a good eye on her, huh?

Listen, don't do this
on your own.

No other way.

Davies, Meier,
all this heat on you.

Come on, let's just get in the car, we'll
go to London, be at the airport...

No. We have a deal, remember?

What do you mean?
You think I can't cut this, is that it?

I mean, I'm not a
babysitter, come on!

I need to know she's safe.

You're the only one I trust.

This is bullshit. You could run,
both of you just go, come on.

Everyone gets found.
You know that.

You're gonna get
yourself killed, kiddo.

Thanks for doing this.

You gotta be kidding me.

Welcome back to London, sir.
Thank you, sir.

(LAUGHING)

(GROANS)

You tell the old man he threatens her
again, I'll put it between his eyes.

Harris, the pilot, on his film he said
another soldier killed my brother.

He was winding us up.

He thought it was
some kind of a joke!

This was just published.

The author served with the SAS.

He describes an ambush where
he killed a guerilla leader.

Harris did not kill Hussain.

You gave me his name.

You said he was guilty.

Such is Allah's will.

Allah's will?

You had me kill
an innocent man.

The book will be the real
killer's confession.

My father...

I know what your father needs.

I need everything you can
get on a Ranulph Fiennes.

Yeah, writer, ex-SAS.

What you got?

I got Fiennes.

He's still pushing
his book on Oman.

He'll be doing
a press bash on Tuesday.

Tuesday.
I know it's a bit short notice,

but I'll be able to put
a crew together. Nah.

I'll do this on my own.

Danny, are you sure?

It's just a phone call.

I guess he's sure.

B-I-N-G fucking O.

I knew I'd find you,
you bastard.

Do you mind if I sit down?

You look lonely.
You're Danny's friend.

The famous Hunter.

He say nice things?

What are you doing here?

Watching you.

You should be with him.

I tried. It didn't work.

He wanted me here
to protect you.

And you look like
you needed protecting.

From what?

You.

You're thinking about him not coming back.
What happens then?

No, I...
I have a wife, I know the look.

We've known each other through
thick and thin, Danny and I.

Celine, my wife, she loves
him, my kids love him.

I mean,
wild animals like Danny.

(CHUCKLES)

Yeah.

I know Danny's going
to come back for you.

And when he does, you're
going to steal him away.

Huh?

I don't know what the plan is.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

I have a woman
to interrogate now.

(CHUCKLES)

PENNOCK: All right,
look alive, lads.

Boys.

So this guy is good. Very good.

If he senses something's up, he'll run
until you corner him and then he fights.

But now the gloves are off.

This all fucking ends today.

MARTIN: All right,
everybody knows the rules.

MAN: There are no rules.

MAN: Boss, he's out front.
I think we're on.

This could be him.
Black leathers.

Roger that.

He just took the service stairs.
It has to be him.

Just hold your positions.
We'll know soon enough.

He's down, boss. We got him!
He stays alive.

Pennock, don't you touch him
until I'm there.

Stay here.

Stay there, you fucker.

Get his helmet off
before he chokes.

Shit.

Hands high, against the wall.

Okay, easy with that.

(SCREAMS)

Guys, our man's down.
Head for the roof.

(GRUNTS)

Pennock, head for the roof.

We're on our way up now, boss.

Come on, move!

He jumped! He jumped!

PENNOCK: Come on, come on,
he's on the move. Let's go!

Aah!

(SHUSHING)

SPIKE: Pennock?

Don't you do it.

PENNOCK: There's no sign
of him up here, boss.

I can see all the way
to the river.

He's gone.

(SCREAMING)

(GRUNTING)

Shit.

Move and you're dead.

Right, let's go, let's go.

Get in.

(AMBULANCE SIREN WAILING)

What is this?

(PANTING)

PENNOCK: That's for Campbell.

And that's for Cregg.
SPIKE: You finished?

We haven't even started.

Take the hood off.

Wait outside, boys.

Save a little bit for us, boss.

(PANTING)

So why is he still alive?
Why didn't you kill him?

Is that what you
would have done?

I thought you were
the good guys.

Who are you?

Who do you work for?

You and I got a lot in common.

Really? You think so?

So, you're sitting there,
tied to a chair

and I'm standing here
with a gun in my hand.

Now you tell me what the
fuck this was all about.

"Was?"

You think this is over?

There'll be somebody else.

Your boy, Fiennes,
is gonna die.

(GROANS)

Go on, pull the trigger.

Kill me and you kill Fiennes.

They won't stop
till they get him.

I stopped you, I'll stop them.

I didn't want to kill him.

They will.

You put that in the right
hands, this thing's over.

The camera? Why?

Proof.

Evidence that he's dead.

It's the only way
you'll save him.

You tell me I'll walk, I'll tell you
who's behind this and where to find him.

Okay.

You walk.

Sheikh Amr bin Issa.

You'll find him in Oman.

Why? The war.

They killed three of his sons.

No.

(CHUCKLES)

Some good guy, eh?

Drop it.

Inside.

Beside him.

On your knees.

You were set up.

That's what we
love about you lot.

You only care about the action.

Never think about what you
might really be fighting for.

Or who.

Never see the big picture.

You're the one that was set up.

He just wouldn't
get out of the way.

Her Majesty's government
doesn't like secret societies.

Particularly when they get
in the way of our interests.

Do you know how much oil that pathetic
crust of desert is floating on?

Do you know what those
contracts are worth?

Three men's lives.

That's right.

We deliver the killers.

Son Number 4 goes home

and when Sheikhy
re-ups the contracts,

we get favorable consideration.

A bargain.
You bastard, you're a...

Patriot.

Who serves his country as those
three men did with their deaths.

As you will with yours.

(WOMAN SCREAMS)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(HORNS HONKING)

Fuck.

AGENT: There she is.

Danny might've
dropped off the radar,

but one thing's for sure.

He'll come back for her.

He'll come through that door with
$6 million and she won't be there.

Who don't you
screw out of his 10%?

Yours truly.

Boss.

Deal with him.

(WHISTLES)

(GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

It wasn't personal.

Just business.

You played us.

I don't care why.

But if ever a lying piece of
shit needed killing, it was you.

Game's over.

You know,
I wouldn't have hurt her.

I just wanted my cut.

She was only collateral.

If you go after them,

I'll find you.

Remember, everybody gets found.

Even you.

HUNTER: You gotta get those
photos to that old bastard

to finish this thing for
good, you hear, kiddo?

That's why I'm here.

What about you?

Babysitting's over, kiddo.

Who says? I say.

She's safe. You're the one
taking the chances now.

Come on. "Come on?"

You walked into
a trap last time.

You think I'm going to
let you do that again?

I told your girl you were going
to be coming back to her.

You want to make
a liar out of me?

You know, you were supposed
to be guarding her,

not interviewing her.

Well, I was always a sucker for
a pretty face, no denying that.

She's a keeper,
that's for sure.

She doesn't know, does she?

Some. Yeah.

It's going to be tough.
My old man used to say,

"Life's like licking
honey from a thorn."

Yeah, what does that mean?

Something about good times
and bad times.

Seems like it's been all thorns
for us lately. Both of us.

All right, let's finish this.

I'll be top cover.

Anything goes wrong,

I'm coming in.
Hey, look, the Sheikh wants this over.

It's in, hand over
the photos, and out.

Yeah? Yeah.

There isn't going
to be a problem.

From your mouth to God's ears.

Don't move till I give
the all-clear, okay?

(SCREECHING)

BAKHAIT: Who are you?

What do you want?

For the Sheikh.

I have to see it
placed in his hands.

Take these to my people.

Show them what I have done.

(SHEIKH AMR COUGHING)

I have a message
for the Sheikh.

He's still alive.

They're fakes.

But this is going to end.

(EXCLAIMING)

I don't care.

(SCOFFS)

What'll I do

in that godforsaken desert?

Haven't you
forgotten something?

(MEN SHOUTING)

HUNTER: Hold it, hold it,
stay where you are.

Something's not right here.

You seeing this?

Yeah, I see it.

So we're in the wrong place.

HUNTER: Let's go! Let's go!

(MEN SHOUTING)

Relax, I only killed the car.

You again!

Back at the palace,

what happened in there?

He was there, waiting
for a message from you.

I was the messenger.

And?

What do you think?

His boy in there
didn't give a shit.

He's not going back to the desert,
so there'll be no oil contracts.

It was all for nothing.

Is that right?

And the winner is.

So that's what
this is all about.

Yeah, it's all hookers
and blow from here on in.

You just don't get it, do you?

Ditch it.

You sure?

Ditch it.

I gotta cover my expenses.

You can't go back to England.

Not after killing that spook.

Who the fuck are you?

Who, me?
The voice of experience.

Where are you going to go?
What are you going to do?

You're going to need this.

New name, new face, new papers.

Expensive. You'll see.

Damn shame.

You think you get
to just walk away?

Nobody walks away.

Not me or you, none of us.

The old man you just killed,

he told me a war isn't over
until both sides say it is.

Well, I'm telling you now,
this is over for me.

Really? And what? You want me to say, "Me,
too," and then it's happy ever after?

Your choice.

You know, when I got this,
they told me my war was over.

I told them they
were full of shit.

Now I'm telling it to you.

Let it go.

So where are you going?

What, are you planning a visit?

You never know.

You come.

I'll be waiting.

We'll call you a cab
from the airport.

Hey.

Aren't you Anne Frazer?

The girl with those
weird gumboots?

Are you Danny Bryce,
the boy who went away?

Yeah.

I'm back.

Where you headed?

I don't know.

Me, neither.

Want to come along?