All language subtitles for D.MX] 154

My name is Peyton Westlake.

I was a scientist exploring
new hope for all of humanity.

Until he... took it
all away from me.

Robert G. Durant.

He ripped everything
from my life,

everything that
was precious to me.

Durant burned
away my identity...

Leaving me for dead...

not knowing he had
created a monster.

My science is my
only existence now.

Synthetic digitization complete.

Yes.

My synthetic skin formula
gave me back my face.

Photosensitivity reaction.

But only for 99 minutes.

Skin matrix dissolving
in 99 minutes.

99 minutes.

Failure. Failure.

But it was all I needed.

I recreated the
face of my enemy.

I turned Durant's
organization against itself...

until only he remained.

And then, finally,
I destroyed him.

- Kiss your ass good-bye! - No!

But I chose to live on...

as a creature of the shadows.

As Darkman.

It's the boss! Quick!

- Doctor said he'd never come out of this coma. Where's Eddie?
- Yeah, I'm here, Rollo.

After all this time! You wouldn't think
anybody'd survive a crash like that.

Roy! Get your ass in here! Okay,
yeah!

Doctor?

He's coming back!

Get on their fuckin' tail! I want my
fuckin' coke! I want my fuckin' money!

And I wanna kill
those motherfuckers!

Go, go, go, go!

Yeah, yeah! Do it! Do it!

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

- I'll get those fuckers with this!
- Yeah! Do it!

Oh, shit!

- Look out! - What?

Oh, Steve. Oh, Steve!

Steve! Steve! Baby!

Oh, I'm hurt! I'm hurt real bad.

- No! - No, man! No!

Steve! Steve!

- Alone at last.

Fuck!

Later, bitch!

Help me!

Huh?

- What the hell are you?
- A concerned citizen.

Thanks for the donation.

You can still hear sirens in the
background as more firefighters arrive...

on the scene of this bloodbath.

The police will be some time
yet assessing the death toll...

as paramedics fight furiously
to save what lives they can.

Dan, you got it? You hooked up?

Mm-hmm. I'll be
ready in a second.

Wow,
look at this mess. What happened here?

I don't know. We'll have
lots of pretty pictures.

Bonnie! How's it goin'?

Cisco. Amazing reporter. Network,
Stan. That's where we gotta be.

No,
that's where you're gonna be.

We have to find Stringer. I know
he's around here somewhere.

They just went to commercial. Can
we be live when they come back?

Yeah. Absolutely. All right,
let's go. You positive? Let's do it.

Tell 'em to pick up the stuff at the
other end. What am I doing here?

Stringer,
give me the short form. What happened?

Just your basic shit storm.

We got one burned in the car, one
gunshot dead up here, two others critical,

and that guy's telling me the Phantom
of the Opera used a manhole cover...

Like a, like a Frisbee. Drugs?

Oh, yeah. Lots of drugs.

Forty seconds,
Jill! They used AK-47s, huh?

Come on, Jill,
don't touch the evidence. Thanks, Stringer.

She's a regular Sherlock Holmes.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
we got some work to do. Okay, listen,

after the lead-in,

go to the burned car, then the fire truck,
then keep it on me for the wrap.

You got it. All ready? Mm-hmm.

Here we go.

Five, four, three, two...

I'm Jill Randall coming
to you live for Street Copy.

What cost, what wasted lives.

Drugs, police believe,
are responsible for a gun battle...

that erupted in the
uptown area tonight.

Authorities are still counting
the bodies from a firefight...

that raged over
several blocks...

before ending here
in a horrific crash.

When will the violence stop?

When we stop the men
who put drugs on the streets.

When we stop the men who
put guns in the hands of children.

Then maybe we'll have
peace. Tragic. Simply tragic.

I'm Jill Randall for Street
Copy... I abhor violence.

Especially when it
doesn't make me money.

Good night. Life in
the city isn't cheap.

Death is.

When every 12-year-old punk
is packin' iron, death is cheap.

What does that tell you,
gentlemen?

Cartoons are too violent.

It tells you that I've
been away too long.

But now I'm back.

Thank you, my dear.

During my absence,

you gentlemen became sloppy.

Oh, I don't know about that,
Mr. Durant.

I think we did very
well. You would.

We used to own the
gun trade in this city.

- Now we're being undercut by every nickel-and-dimer.
- With all respect, Mr. Durant,

you've been... out of
commission for a long time.

You know, I've been thinking',

me and the boys,
we've got some plans.

Maybe you should... Let us take
care of things for a while, hmm?

You wouldn't know a plan if it was
pounded up your ass with a jackhammer!

Oh, god! Aah. Aah! Help him.

Ohh! My pills! My pills! Boss.

Your medication's right
over here. Get some water.

Water!

Well.

Gentlemen,
we are going back into the arms business.

We're what? We are taking control,
top to bottom.

How? The prices are
already below cost.

Smart boy, Roy. We are going
to eliminate the competition...

by providing a better product.

New guns for the new era.

Where you gonna get the guns?

We are going to make them.

And for that,

we need a factory.

Someplace with
adequate floor space,

convenient to shipping
and distribution.

A place with an
extraordinary power supply,

and yet away from prying eyes.

In short, we need a working factory
on the south side near the rail yard.

Ha! Good luck. All those buildings
there have been condemned for years.

Oh, ye of little faith.

My factory does exist.

It's right there.

Brinkman Electrical. I
want you to buy the place.

And I want to set up
operations within a week.

I'll get right on it.

Want me to make
the usual offer... boss?

We might not want to draw
attention to ourselves right now.

Why don't you try money instead.

All clear on track 85.

No oncoming trains.

Access tunnel 18.
Auxiliary tracks in use.

Approaching destination.

Good night,
Dr. Westlake. Good night.

Cheers, Doctor.

Computer status report:
Lab control systems static.

Hypercube processes idling
at seven percent capacity.

Liquid skin system
cryogenic storage low.

Photosynthetic
digitization in ready state.

Ext status report in 30 minutes.

Systems await your command,
Doctor.

Initiating subject
photograph digitization.

Digitization complete.
Holographic recognition imaging.

Subject mask synthesis complete.

Implementing skin matrix
formula number 2,917..

Estimated photosensitivity
index unknown.

Unknown? No,
we must beat the 99-minute barrier.

Photosensitivity reaction.

Skin matrix dissolving
at 99 minutes.

Failure. Failure.
Failure. Failure. Failure.

No!

Oh!

Thank you, sir.

"A Light-resistant
polymer skin substitute."

Hmm.

Dr. David Brinkman.

Well, this is definitely
what you would call low-rent.

We'll have to get rid of that
sign. Right. Just open the gate.

Do you think the boss really wants this
piece of shit? Durant says we need power.

This place has
got plenty to spare.

Will ya look at the
size of this place?

Can I help you? That
depends. Your name Brinkman?

Yes, I'm Dr. Brinkman.

This is your lucky day, Doc.

I represent Inter-City
Land Development.

We're a group of investors
financing a redevelopment project.

- What's that got to do with me?
- We want your building, Doc.

The people I represent...

are prepared to offer one million
dollars cash for this property.

Uh...

Look, I'm sorry you wasted
your time coming down here,

but it's not for sale.

- Now, this is a serious offer, Brinkman. I'd think about it.
- Really?

I'm not interested.

Excuse me. I've got
to get back to work.

I don't think he
understood a word I said.

We're buying this building, Doc,
and that means you're selling it.

Last chance, Doc.

- Look, I don't know how to make this any...
- Shh.

Take the money. Go.

Is there a problem?

Uh...

Here's my card, Doc.

Keep in touch.

Why don't you just
go with your friends.

They're not friends of mine.

- Then what do you want?
- I'd like to talk to you...

about your study in
T-lymphoma skin cells.

I read your article in the Survey of Molecular
Biology. I thought it was fascinating.

Thank you.

Not a lot of people read
that stuff. Are you a scientist?

I've done similar research
based on a polymer skin substitute.

Like you, though, I've had problems
with disintegration in UV light.

Anyway, I've put my findings on disk, and
I'd be honored if you could take a look.

Certainly.
Excellent. We'll talk.

I didn't get your name.

*

Here you go,
boss. Just the way you like 'em.

Good, boss.

You wanted to see me,
boss? Rollo! Yes. Do join us.

I understand you spoke to the
owner of the factory yesterday.

Uh, yeah.

He ain't sellin'.

- It's unfortunate Brinkman declined our offer.
- Yeah.

So, uh, what's the plan, boss?

I had an interesting conversation
with our Colombian friends today.

Do you know what they told me? Mr. Durant,
I can explain...

They told me you were taking a five-percent
bonus on all our drug shipments.

- That was nothin', Mr. Durant.
- Edward, how long was I in my coma?

878 days, 12 hours and 16 minutes,
Mr. Durant.

800 days, two shipments a week,

each shipment worth, say,
ten million dollars on the street,

minus the problems
with the exchange rate.

- What do you say that might add up to, Edward?
- $27,280,000...

and 17 cents.

Aah!

Come on! Come on!

Come on. Get in!

- Wh... No! No! - Buckle up.

- Where's my fucking money?
- C-Cayman Bank of Commerce. I-I got an account there.

I was gonna tell you. It
was gonna be a surprise!

Oh,
I'm surprised. Can't you tell?

And now I have
a surprise for you.

Always replace your divots,
Rollo.

Seventeen over the... No,
no, no, eighteen. Eighteen.

Chow time, Doc.

So,
what are we having this evening?

Lobster Florentine?
Beef Wellington.

Perhaps grilled ahi on
a bed of Belgian endive.

No, your old favorite, Doc.

I hate meat loaf!

Dr. Hathaway, I presume.

Ahh.

So, what am I doing here,
Robert?

You didn't go to the trouble of breaking
me out to feed me a home-cooked meal.

Well, there aren't many scientists
with your vision, your technical expertise.

What you mean is,
there aren't many men...

who could build a hydrogen
bomb in their garage.

You were working on something
before your untimely arrest.

A man-portable, air-cooled,
semi-automatic particle beam weapon.

Guns for the new century.

Weapons of
devastating firepower.

If we can build a better assault rifle,
the world will beat a path to our door.

- But all you lack is the technology.
- And that's where you come in.

Power is going to be a problem.

That weapon
requires a lot of energy.

You let me worry about
that. Are you interested?

- I still have my brainchild stored away.
- Then we have a deal.

I hope you saved
room for dessert.

Ladies!

Oh.

You drive a hard bargain.

You shouldn't
have to ask! That's...

I won't have it!
It's not your choice!

I'm sorry. The gate was
open. I was just leaving.

David, I'll talk to you later.

Hi, I'm Laurie.

Peyton. Nice to meet you,
Peyton.

You too.

So, it's, uh... Peyton.

Yeah. Was, uh, that,
your, uh, girlfriend?

No, uh, sister.

This is an amazing
place you've built here.

Yeah. It's got a lot of history.

My father tried to make a go of
it through the war and beyond.

He was pioneering research in
conventional and atomic power applications.

I guess you could say he
was a little bit ahead of his time.

Yeah.

He passed away three years ago.

I think he died when they
turned the lights out in this place.

I'm sorry to hear that.

It's okay. You know,
I always knew that I would come back here.

I mean, this place,
it just feels like... home.

You know, my father's spirit
was driven by his strength.

He even harnessed a power supply
that was big enough to drive a small city.

It inspires me to
try great things.

Like what?

I want to rekindle a kind
of scientific renaissance.

A place where scientists can come
from all over the world and work...

outside of the constraints of
established funding. You know?

I mean,
just look around this place.

Just imagine... the
possibilities in here.

That's, uh...

the dream, you know.

It's important to have a dream.

I'm impressed.

I'm impressed with you.

The work on those
disks... brilliant.

Let me show you
something. Come on.

There was similar work to
yours published a few years back.

It was by a scientist named...

Westlake. You know him?

I was familiar with his work.

I ran the formulas you
used for the polymer base.

I used a similar one myself a few
months back. It didn't work either.

But I was using negatively-charged
ions. You used a silicon base?

No, no. Carbon.

But last night I ran a sample
set using your formulas,

only I reversed the
charge of the ions.

And in full
exposure to sunlight,

this little sucker
lasted 173 minutes.

173 minutes?

You did it!

You beat the 99-minute barrier!

- You did it.
- Hey, it's only one sample.

But I think together we could crack the
structure for a permanently stable polymer.

That is,
if you'd be interested in a partnership.

Oh,
I'm interested. I'm very interested.

Only to crack it, we're gonna
need a digital spectrochronometer.

One of the new 1000 models.

They're expensive. No,
don't worry. Money's not a problem.

- What, do you have a grant?
- No, I, uh, I get donations from the community.

Partners, then?

Partners.

When can we start?

I have to see somebody.
I have an appointment.

I'll talk to you soon. This
is fantastic. Thank you.

This is fantastic!

Thank you, Dr. Brinkman!

Partners, huh?

Here, kitty, kitty. Come on.

I have a surprise.

I'd like you to meet
a friend of mine.

Ah, there you are!

- Come on. Come on.
- Thank you for that report.

While there's no question as to the victim's
identity, questions remain unanswered.

Be careful. He bites.

The criminal empire built by Robert G.
Durant, who disappeared a few years ago.

Latham,
suspected in several gangland slayings,

had emerged as a brutal lord of the
underworld; tonight his reign is over.

His death, police believe, may signal
that there is more than one contender...

to the throne left
vacant by Robert Durant.

- I'll continue to bring you more on this story.
- No! David!

Okay.

The D.I.N.I. samples
have stabilized.

The cell membranes...

Mmm... remain elastic.

And there appears
to be no breakdown...

in cell structure...

or activity after...

98 minutes.

Okay.

Let's go for the record, baby.

Dr. Brinkman, I presume.

Aah!

- No!
- I believe you're acquainted...

- with a former associate of mine, Rollo Latham.
- Former?

Mr. Latham and
I had a falling out.

Good evening, Dr. Westlake.

Full throttle! Come on!

All you have to do... is sign.

I told him, I'll tell you.

This property's not for sale.

Rollo made it very clear that
money was of no interest to you.

I've asked Mr. Druganov
to resume negotiations...

with an incentive you'll
find much more compelling.

One more move, and I'll perform
laser surgery on each one of you guys.

- Now leave!
- A regular Luke Skywalker.

- Yeah? - Whoa!

Ivan? Please teach
Dr. Brinkman some manners.

- Are we all clear? -.
- Access terranean level, tunnel B.

My work! My work!

What's it going to take,
Dr. Brinkman?

Come on!

Quietly, gentlemen.

This is a school night.

- Please! Please, no!
- You like that! Eddie!

Come here, Eddie!

Eat!

Eat! Eat!

David!

Oh, no.

David?

Durant!

It can't be!

He survived! Robert G. Durant!

Bring the Asian's finger. It will
make a nice addition to my collection.

He's a freak! He's a freak!
He's a freak! He's a freak!

No. No!

Noooooo!

Yes!

Music to my ears, gentlemen.

Aah! Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Remember,
this is just the prototype.

Get out of the way.

Power on.

Safety off.

Boss!

Yes!

- The dawning of a new day!
- Right on.

Shoots a little to the left.

Still uses a lot of juice.

Happily, we may have found
the solution to our power problem.

Mr. Druganov recently
joined our organization...

after an unusually
varied career in the KGB.

His connections have
afforded us access...

to some exceptional
relics of the Cold War.

Plutonium carbide energy cells,

courtesy of space program
of former Soviet Union.

Each device is miniature
nuclear reactor...

capable of generating
450 gigawatts.

They were designed to
be used in spy satellites...

Launched over
capitalist countries,

but nobody's launching anymore
so Ivan gets these for us wholesale.

Are they stable?

These cells were manufactured by technicians
in workers' paradise of Eastern Uzbekistan.

Only finest Yugoslavian materials
were used in their engineering.

- They are reliable
as your Ford Pinto.

How long might it take you
to... adapt these to your rifle?

End of the week okay?

Oh. Excellent!

Get started.

Inter-City Land Development?

Hmm.

Huh. David.

Hmm.

What are you doing here?

Laurie. I said,
what are you doing here?

Laurie, it's me,
Peyton. Remember?

- I was working on a project with your brother.
- The project's over.

- Laurie, I'm so sorry about David.
- Get out, okay? Get out!

Please, just go.

Oh.

Automatic synthetic skin test.

Skin formula experiment number 4,803. Okay,
Dr. Westlake.

Back to square one.

Why do you do it?

Why do you get involved with
these people? Why do you do this?

The work on those
disks... brilliant.

But I think together we could crack the
structure for a permanently stable polymer.

That is,
if you'd be interested in a partnership.

Oh,
I'm interested. I'm very interested.

Partners, then? Partners.

I mean,
just look around this place.

Imagine... the possibilities.

That's, uh, the dream.

No!

Durant.

Durant.

Jill, it's a great story.

Yeah,
it's good. Thank you, Lord.

Oh! Whoo!

Oh. Okay. Outta here.

Oh.

So, you comin'? Yeah.

I'm gonna check
this one more time.

Go ahead. I'll see
you in the morning. Jill.

Go home. Tell Patty
I said hi. You're sure?

Absolutely. Good work.

'Night, Bob.

David. That's Dan.

Dan.

Jill, did you get my memo? The
one about parking in your space?

No, the one canceling the
retrospective on Rollo Latham.

He's a crime lord, Bob.

He's... dead, Jill.

Besides, this is Street Copy.

Oh. It's not our kind of news.
It's about sensationalism.

It's about ratings.

Now, you had an assignment.
How come you're not on it?

Well, for starters,
it's fundamentally asinine.

It's the '90s,
Jill. Fake orgasms... Are they better?

Women want to know.
People want to watch.

- Jill, you're not working for the networks.
- No, not yet.

I am tired of you ignoring
your assignments.

- I suggest you drop the 'tude.
- Bob, I'm not doing a story...

on fake orgasms.

I am the one who decides what
the viewers want to see, not you.

Oh. Fine. Let's
make this simple.

- Shape up, or you're gone.
- Yeah.

Yeah.

Bullshit.

Television really
is going to hell.

Who the hell are you?

I saw your broadcast on Robert
G. Durant and Rollo Latham.

You're very good.
Yeah. What do you want?

There was a murder on the
east side a couple of nights ago.

- A man named Dr. Brinkman was beaten to death.
- It's a violent world.

Would you be interested if I told you I
had reason to believe Durant was involved?

I'd be interested if you
could prove Durant's alive.

Brinkman had a finger missing.

This is Durant's signature.

He cuts fingers off his
victims with a cigar cutter.

Just because there's a finger
missing doesn't prove anything.

The killer could be a
lunatic with a finger fetish.

No. I don't think so. Mmm?

Brinkman's building was purchased by a
company called Inter-City Land Development.

I'd like you to find
out who owns it.

- How do I get in touch with you?
- I'll contact you.

You'd better not
be wasting my time.

Brinkman.

Mr. Durant.

Mr. Perkins. Thank
you for coming.

It's an unusual pleasure to
meet an American like yourself.

Uh-huh. Let me tell you something,
Durant.

This country is going to hell.

The police don't have the weapons
to stop it, the courts don't have the will,

and the people...

Damn, Durant,
the people are bereft...

of the fundamental guts necessary
to take back our streets. Precisely.

And what is needed to take
back those streets is firepower.

New weapons for a new age.

This is the prototype of a gun
we like to call "The Vigilante."

In one fell swoop,

this weapon makes obsolete the
guns of every criminal in this city.

You know, Durant,
I don't much like science fiction.

This isn't science fiction,
Mr. Perkins!

This, sir,
is science "fact" -ion.

This rifle is a prototype.

The production model will be
powered by plutonium carbide batteries.

Well, now.

Uh, just what is the range
on this here thing, huh?

Oh, it will track and disintegrate
moving targets up to three kilometers.

Its range against stationary
objects is limited only...

by the... curvature
of the Earth.

Shit. With this gun,

we could save this
nation from itself.

This is not recommended
for indoor use.

Just what is the price tag on
one of these puppies, Durant?

They are five
million dollars each.

Batteries not included.

- The initial production run will be 20 rifles.
- When can I have 'em?

End of the week.

Outstanding. It's been a pleasure
doing business with you, Durant.

You know, I always say a man
who can't love his own country...

can't love a damn thing.

Thank you, Mr. Perkins.

You are a patriot, sir. I'm just
a man following my own beliefs.

- There you go. - Gentlemen.

Robert,
do you think it's a good idea...

to sell to someone who
wants to fight crime?

Hmm. Marvelous, isn't it?

As soon as he gets his hands on those guns,
Mr. Perkins and his neanderthal Nazis...

will attack every criminal
organization in the city.

- Where does that leave us, boss?
- Without competition, Edward.

In his patriotic zeal, Mr. Perkins
will level the playing field for us.

Besides, in a couple of weeks,
he'll be out of batteries.

Then we can use the second
batch of rifles to consolidate...

our interests in drugs, gambling,
not to mention sales to our friends abroad.

The resurgent
Durant organization...

will have a complete,
uncontested monopoly...

over every criminal
enterprise in this city.

Robert,
I have to hand it to you. You're a genius.

I've always thought so.

Laurie, if there's anything we can do,
please let us know.

That's very kind.

That was beautiful, Father.

Take care. Okay.

Laurie. Thank you, Gene.

Hi, Laurie. Hi.

I'm sorry about your brother.

Thank you.

I want to apologize
for the other day.

No, no. I understand.

I'm all alone now.

I wish I could make
some sense out of this.

You know?

I'm sorry.

Did you know my
brother very well?

I was beginning to, yeah.

Miss Brinkman?

Good-bye,
Peyton. I want to thank you for coming.

Really.

Good-bye.

It was kind of you to send a
car. It was the least we could do.

Um...

I hope you know that
we share in your loss.

Thank you. Your
firm's been very kind.

Then we'll be seeing you
at the signing? All right.

Thank you.

I think she really digs me, man.

You take a look
in the mirror lately?

She does.

You're late. Your
directions stink.

I found out who owns Inter-City Land
Development: the late Rollo Latham was the C.E.O.

The original articles of incorporation
were signed by Robert G. Durant.

I knew it.

Durant wanted to buy
the Brinkman property.

When David wouldn't sell,
he killed him. Wait a minute.

We don't know
who killed anybody.

Just because Durant established Inter-City Land
Development doesn't prove he's still alive.

For all we know, he could be water
skiing with Jimmy Hoffa in the Bahamas.

Maybe Durant's involved,
maybe he isn't.

But our working relationship isn't going
further until I know who I'm dealing with.

My name is not important.

I protect my sources. I'm sure you do,
Miss Randall.

But I'd like to
remain anonymous.

I'll call you if I
learn anything.

Shit.

- Okay, welcome to For Your Eyes Only.
- **

Let's hear it... for Rhonda!

That's right, at For Your Eyes Only,
only the finest girls in town.

Guys, come on, table dance.

**

Well, hello. Hello.

I'm looking for someone that
works here; her name is Laurie.

She's upstairs. What do you need
her for when you can play with me?

I don't think so.

Oh.

Sometimes I play rough.

Oh, hmm.

Hi.

Laurie!

What are you doing here? Is
there someplace we can talk?

What's this about, Peyton? Tell me
about those men with you at the funeral.

They're from Inter-City Land Development.
They're buying David's building from me.

That whole
corporation is a front.

- They work for a man named Durant.
- Durant?

No,
I don't know anyone named Durant.

I do. And I'm here to tell you
that Durant had your brother killed.

No, the police said it was
an act of random violence.

Laurie,
Durant wanted David's building.

When David wouldn't sell it to him,
Durant had him killed.

Do you have any proof of this?

These men have been very good to
me. They helped me with David's funeral.

- They're offering a million dollars for the building.
- A million dollars?

Is that what this is about? They
killed David! They tortured him!

- Laurie, is everything okay?
- It's fine, Bubba. Thanks.

Okay.

Look, I mean,
I don't even know you.

I loved my brother. When David left me the
building, he gave me a way out of this life.

I can go back to school. I can make a
difference with myself because of David.

- It's all he ever wanted for me.
- It's blood money, Laurie.

Well, I'm sorry, Peyton,
I'm signing the papers tomorrow.

Do you have any idea how many
post office boxes there are in this town?

I had a cop friend of mine run the
fingerprints you left at the restaurant.

You don't have any fingerprints.

Do you... Dr. Westlake?

They buried a box full of ashes,

but Peyton Westlake
didn't die in that fire, did he?

- Most of him died.
- Not many people rise from the dead.

You're news. Durant's
news. I'm a reporter.

That's all this is for you,
just another story.

- It's the truth; it's what I do. What is it for you, revenge?
- Revenge?

That man destroyed my life!

He took my face,
my hands! He took my life!

I want to see Durant dead.

He tortured and
murdered David Brinkman.

He will kill again, and he will keep
on killing until someone stops him.

And that someone
is going to be me.

Westlake, my sources tell me...

there's been shipments of
plutonium brought into the city.

Last week, Alfred Hathaway, a weapons
genius, was broken out of a looney bin.

If he's working with Durant,
this could be huge.

If I expose Durant on the air,
his plans are finished.

No! That'll only drive
Durant underground.

The way to stop
him is from the inside.

I'm going public tonight. You
want Durant; I want the story. It's big.

- Stay out of it, Jill.
- When I break this, Durant's going down.

- Five seconds, four, three...
- Camera one.

Good evening, for Street Copy,
I'm Jill Randall. That's it, Jill.

What is it about today's relationships?
What is it that keeps the magic?

But first, the death last week of crime lord
Rollo Latham cast an unwelcome light on the past.

The link between a big city
development corporation...

and the criminal empire
of Robert G. Durant...

may be behind Latham's spectacular
and untimely end. Here you go, boss.

This picture, taken by our Street Copy
investigative team, clearly shows Robert G. Durant,

Long-missing and
thought dead by city police.

What an unflattering
photograph. What is he up to?

Why has the reemergence of one of this country's
most notorious criminals been kept a secret?

I'll have more for you tomorrow
as I continue our series,

"The Fall of a Kingpin."

For Street Copy,
I'm Jill Randall. Good night.

I'm gonna kill her!

Putz.

Jill!

That pretty face has just
talked you out of a job, honey.

Bob! Jill! The
switchboard is going nuts!

Sir,
let me explain. They love it!

We've had more calls than
when we ran the Fergie pictures.

You are a genius. Super job!

And you, Bob, keep it up, buddy!

Good stuff! Yes!

You're an asshole.

Jill, baby,
I loved it. The best work you've ever done!

- Caught my broadcast?
- It was a big mistake.

- Hmm, it was news.
- Durant will notice.

A lot of people will notice,
hopefully the networks.

We both want to stop him. Publicity
is one thing Durant doesn't want.

Trust me on this.
Reporter's instincts.

I'm right, I think.

Just be careful, okay? Uh-huh.

Peyton, I like this look.

Jill!

Okay, Eddie, let's see.

Initiating subject
photograph digitization.

Digitization completed.

- Process voice.
- I think she really digs me, man.

I think she really digs me,
man. I think she really digs me, man.

I think she really digs me. I
think she really digs me, man.

I think she really digs me, man.

I think she really digs me,
man. No, no, come on!

I think she really digs me,
man. I think she really digs me, man.

Yes, yes.

- Hey, Bob, wait up! - Taxi!

You forgot to zip your fly,
Eddie. Oh.

- Thanks, Bud. - Uh!

You son of a bitch! You killed David,
you killed him!

Enjoy your nap.

Okay, yes, thank you.

Late again, Eddie?

Where the hell have you been?

In the bathroom.

We've got a meeting. Come on,
before he gives you a golf lesson.

Eddie, you look like shit.

I do?

Sit down, wedge head.

Don't tell me you're back
with that bitch Margie again?

That chick messes with your mind,
man.

- I'll kill you! - Eddie!

Westlake!

Eddie!

Hello!

Uh, sorry.

Have you been drinking
again? Never mind.

Whatever your problem is,
I suggest you keep it at home.

- Do you understand?
- Totally, boss.

The equipment, Eddie!

Um...

It's, uh,
movin' right on schedule, boss.

- It'll be ready.
- Make sure that it is.

Excuse me, sir.

Miss Brinkman is
here to sign the papers.

Ah, goody.

Miss Brinkman,
I believe you've already met Mr. Scholley.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

I'm Robert G. Durant. I'm president of
Inter-City Land Development's parent company.

- Durant?
- Please call me Robert.

Do sit down.

As you can see,
the check is already prepared.

All we need is your
signature on these X's,

then the check is yours
and the building is ours.

Something the matter,
Miss Brinkman?

I can't... I can't sell
you the building.

Is it the price?

No.

Excuse me, I... Excuse me...

What is it with these Brinkmans?

Eddie,
take Roy with you and bring her back.

She will sign.

Hold the elevator,
please? Thank you.

What are you
doing? Open the door!

She's gonna... Eddie! Taxi!

Laurie!

You have to get away from here.
Durant's gonna have you killed.

What's he doing? Shit!

Eddie, you moron, open the door!

I thought you were working for
him! I am... I'm not. It's complicated.

You gotta get out of here now!

What the hell is your problem?
Some freak duked me in the washroom.

Who? What? Hey, that's me.

That's him?

It can't be!

Why are you helping
me? It's a long story.

Get away from here. Go
as far and as fast as you can.

- Go! - Hey, Eddie! Hey, Eddie!

Hey, Whitey! Whitey,
open the door! Go, go!

Westlake!

Get the girl! Go! Move it!

- Hurry! - Watch it, asshole!

Whoa!

Hold it!

- Let's go. Let's move!
- C'mon, you guys!

Hey, watch it, buddy!

- Laurie! - Shit.

- Let's go! Come on!
- I'm doing the best I can.

Laurie, stop! Laurie!

Laurie! Laurie!

- Laurie!
- Wait, stop! We have to pick up that man.

Which one, lady?

This one,
this man! Tell him to stop the car!

Laurie, Laurie!

Thanks for stopping.

Just isn't your day,
is it, sweetheart?

Drive, gramps.

- Laurie! - No!

Laurie, d-don't!

You want her, come and get her.

Come on. No!

Don't! Let go! No!

It's all mine now.

I know Westlake. That
cockroach will be here.

It's just a matter of time.

He knows we have the girl, he will try to
save her, and when he does, gentlemen,

that will be my lucky day.

He could look like anybody.
He could look like me.

He could look
like... any one of you.

Jeez, boss, it's me!

Until Westlake is safely in my hands,
everyone is suspect.

It's impossible working
in this noise and dust.

Doctor?

Yes, it is me, Robert.

Are you sure? Yes,
I'm sure. Relax. You're getting paranoid.

Paranoia is total awareness. No
one can relax until Westlake is toast.

Edward, my pills.

Ivan, are you making sure they're not
dawdling on the modifications to my car?

Yes, sir. They called.

I will pick it up myself. Good.

What's that?

Yes,
sir. They called. I will pick it up myself.

The batteries will
be ready in time?

Yes, yes, yes! I'm about to
load the first one... Be careful!

Would you be
careful? Put that down!

I bypassed the pressurized
tritium in the outer chambers.

I don't need the
details. Will they work?

Absolutely, positively.

Whitey! Whitey!

Of course it's important...

not to cross-connect the
terminals of the battery!

I think we've all learned
a valuable safety tip here.

Carry on, Doctor. I'm going
downstairs to check on our guest.

Ivan?

Miss Brinkman, you look comfy.

This is the time when I'd normally
ask whether you'd reconsidered our offer.

You killed David. I thought you
might still be upset about that.

Not that it really matters.
I've moved on to Plan B.

Ivan, tell our lucky prize
winner where she's going.

To our sod farm...
in Saskatchewan.

I think you'll find it a peaceful,
out-of-the-way little spot...

where your only visitor might
be an occasional moose...

who decides to decorate your
final resting place with a dropping.

Before I ship you out,
I'm going to use you...

to destroy that miserable bug,
Peyton Westlake.

Peyton? For some
reason he cares about you.

I'm going to use you to lure him into
the open, then I'm going to kill you both.

Thought you'd like to know.

Just for record... I
would have taken money.

Biochemical synthesis complete.

Globular substance
matrices encapsulated.

Let's see, um...

Let's see what happens when
this hits your stomach, Mr. Durant.

Danger. Toxicity
sensors indicate... Okay.

Substance ingestion fatal. Hmm.

Substance ingestion fatal.

Durant, take two of these
and call me in the morning.

Colorado 5., San Francisco 1.

Giants won 15.
Out of their last 20.

Is anyone here? I'm over here
working. What do you want?

I've come for Mr. Durant's car. What do
you think, genius, does it look ready yet?

You called,
told us to pick it up.

I didn't call anybody.
Come back in an hour.

Someone called. I am
here. I will take car now!

Foreigners.

- Typical American workers!
- Surprise.

No wonder you lost the Cold War.

Always pay attention
to the instructions.

Look what happened to Whitey.

All right, all right.

Roy, get the doors. Move it!

What took you so long?

Some windows failed my test.

So I made him do it over.
The windows are acceptable.

What about the rest of the car?

Two inches of Kevlar armor were
installed in doors, roof and hood.

Tires are puncture-proof.

And vehicle is resistant to all known
NATO and Soviet anti-tank weapons.

And... it has 10
CD player in trunk.

- Hmm! - So much for Westlake.

The one place I was
vulnerable is now a fortress.

Boss.

Mr. Perkins, right on time.

I am always on time,
Durant. That's why I'm rich.

You have my merchandise.
Awaiting your inspection.

One hundred million,
cash on the barrel.

Smells wonderful, doesn't it?

My rifles, Durant. Ah,
Dr. Hathaway.

Would you do the honors?

Now pay attention, Mr. Perkins!

You simply point and shoot!

- Man! - Hallelujah!

* Glory, glory, hallelujah *

* Glory, glory, hallelujah *

* Glory, glory, hallelujah **

** You have revolutionized
the right to bear arms.

In this case,
the far right to bear arms.

This calls for a celebration.

Damn, Durant,
that is one fine weapon. Thank you, sir.

The boys and I love a big noise,
don't we? We sure do, sir.

Let's drink to the green. Yes.

Mmm.

This gun of yours seems to
work well on inanimate objects.

But how does it work on people?

Good question. Why don't we
invite Miss Brinkman to join us.

I will get her. No,
Roy can get her.

My pills.

Right here, Mr. Durant.

This will save us the cost
of mailing her to Saskatoon.

Let me go!

Thank you for volunteering,
Miss Brinkman.

Ivan, disintegrate the girl,
won't you?

Robert? What's the matter?

He's having reaction to his
medication! Take a deep breath.

Let's get him to a hospital.

You're a doctor, do something!
I'm not that kind of a doctor.

Open doors, quickly! Yes!

Easy.

One of us is not who
he pretends to be.

Ivan never carries my pills,
Westlake.

Only I am allowed
to wear my face!

You are so predictable. I
knew you'd come after me.

All I had to do was dangle the right
bait in front of whats left of your nose.

Cuff him and bring him.

Isn't this delightful?

Two of my favorite people about to
sacrifice themselves to the greater good.

You're a lovely couple, but now
it's time to play, "You Bet Your Life."

I would offer some
traditional parting gifts,

but we're fresh out of
cigarettes and blindfolds.

Dasvidaniya..

Bring me one of the girl's
fingers and all ten of Westlake's.

I want to see the freak suffer.

He's a freak!

David. No!

Peyton?

- Peyton? - Durant!

Peyton, please.

No, no. No!

Jesus! Get off me, you idiot!

Peyton! Laurie, get down!

Get him!

Are you okay? I want you
to get out of here now. Yeah.

Grab those guns and that money
and let's blow this pop stand!

It was you who helped me with the cab,
wasn't it?

Yeah. You gotta go now,
Laurie. No!

Trust me, go now! Move!

Where the hell are you going?

- Perkins, you leave my babies!
- They're my babies now,

you commie son of a bitch!

Nazi bastard!

Nobody walks away from a
deal with Robert G. Durant.

Where are you,
you spooky son of a bitch?

Where is he?

- Come out, come out, wherever you are!
- Boss, look!

You want me? Come and get me!

He's a fucking ghost,
man! Let's make sure of that, shall we?

Well?

Eddie, come on! Wait up!

Look somewhere else. You're
not gonna find him behind me.

Where are you, you freak?

How 'bout a nightmare?

I got him!

Eddie!

Eddie, I got the bastard!

You got him? Hold the door!

You got him. Good going, Roy!

Roy? Uh-oh. Eddie?

- You killed my friends.
- I'm sorry.

- Forgive me?
- Apology accepted.

You're next, Durant.

- Westlake! You're dead!
- You're dead, you're dead!

I told you, it's my face!

Gentlemen,
cease and desist or I'll fry you both.

Now come down here.

What I have here is
a 50-50 proposition.

How to tell?

The real Ivan stepped on a mine in
Afghanistan. He has an artificial hip.

Mr. Durant,
that's me. I'm Ivan. I have artificial hip.

Mr. Durant, it's me. I'm Ivan.
Shoot him. He's Westlake.

Shoot him! He's Westlake!
I'm Ivan! I have artificial hip!

I'm Ivan! Mr. Durant,
shoot him. Believe me!

I have artificial hip.
It's me. I'm Ivan!

- Shoot him. He's Westlake.
- No, Mr. Durant...

Hip, hip, hooray.

Well, I guess that narrows down my choices,
doesn't it, Westlake?

Aren't you the pretty one?

I can't tell you what an epic
pain in the ass you've been.

But nothing lasts forever,
pizza face.

Durant! Laurie.

Hmm. A baby doll with a big gun.

This must be one of Barbie's
new spring accessories.

Come to save Prince
Charming? Take a good look.

- Put the gun down, you ridiculous bitch.
- This is for David.

I got ya, you bastard!

You'll pay for what you've done!

Game is over, Westlake!

Batteries not included.

You!

Come here, come here!

Westlake,
stay wherever the hell you are...

or you'll be wearing
her last thought.

Get in!

Hey!

Run, Laurie,
get away from the car!

Westlake!

Ohh!

Be careful now, he bites.

You son of a bitch!

This time, it's forever.

David's dreams died with
him. Durant stole mine.

Protect your dreams, Laurie.

Peyton.

Thank you, Peyton.

We'll be bringing you more
details as they become available.

However, on a sadder note, today,
former anchor Jill Randall was buried.

Known as one of television's
most aggressive reporters,

Randall never
compromised her integrity.

In fact, the very night she was killed,
she broke a major story...

that of the return to power of
crime boss Robert G. Durant.

Police sources are saying Durant
may have been responsible...

for the car bomb
that took Randall's life.

Whatever the facts, let it be said
that Jill Randall died as she lived...

in relentless
pursuit of the truth.

Vengeance has many casualties:

The guilty and the innocent.

My salvation was buried with those
who would rescue me from revenge.

And so,
I continue to face the darkness...

alone.