Man: It doesn't matter when you fought,
what weapons you used...
Who you call your enemy.
One day, one way or the other,
you go home.
Be calm.
- Where's the medic? - I'm not gonna make it.
Medic!
Damn it, where's the medic?!
Chill! Fuck. Stay still, damn it!
Medic!
Damn it, where's the medic?
Woman on P.A.: Ladies and gentlemen,
we are pleased to welcome you to Los Angeles.
The local time is 12:10 P.M.
And it's a clear 72°.
If Los Angeles happens to be your final destination...
That.
Man: The shrinks call it post-traumatic stress disorder.
I call it hell.
The demons are waiting in each corner,
ready to drag me back to the battlefield.
Stay still, stay still, damn it.
I still couldn't talk to my family.
My old man worked his ass ragged...
So I could go to college.
But I enlisted instead.
You guys need help?
Graveyard shift, 11:00 to 7:00.
$3.49.
You guys have an application?
- Who do I bring back to? - Just bring it back and drop it off.
It's not that hard.
Thanks.
And learn these words: "Thank you, come again."
Man: I guess I was doing a pretty lousy job
of adjusting to civilian life.
But I was about to get pulled into a whole new war.
Man: Vin, a handyman turned businessman,
was trying to get into business with a smuggler named Bennet
on behalf of his boss Hollis...
A pimp and gangster on his way up.
This would trigger a series of unfortunate events
with some of L.A.'s lowest lowlives.
Things went from bad to worse when two cops got involved...
- Mitchell, a detective with an attitude... - Fuck you!
And his partner farragut...
All over a girl.
One of Hollis's girls.
What the hell do you want?
Is Bennet aqui?
Gordon?
Your puta racist maricon friend is here.
I'm watching the telly. Send him in.
Sondra.
Vin: All right, pop.
- Bennet: Hey, mate, how you doin'? - Vin: All right.
Don't worry about her. That's just sondra being sondra.
Oh aye, the red carpet and all.
You see, vin,
this is what I'm up against now.
I'm sitting here watching the beautiful game
in fucking Mexican.
Yeah, I love you too, love.
Fuck sports.
You get all the games from back home, eh?
You come here to talk sports, vin?
Hollis. He's got the money,
you've got the connections.
I'll sort out the distribution.
We all make a few bucks.
You don't even have to talk to Hollis.
Well, that's a relief, isn't it?
You only have to talk to me.
That's a deal. Take it.
Take it, Bennet. Come on.
You crafty fucker.
You're becoming a good fucking salesman,
I'll give you that, vin.
Ah, fuck it. A deal's a deal.
Man: Back to square one...
Where I was trying to make sense of life.
Little did I know
life made no sense whatsoever.
And I was about to learn it the hard way.
Woman: Get your hands off of me. Stop it!
Stop it, don't touch me!
Don't touch my shit!
Check her fucking purse.
- Don't fucking touch my shit. - Bitch, shut the fuck up.
- Fuck you! - Shut your fucking mouth.
Shut your goddamn mouth now.
You fucking bitch, what the fuck did I tell you?
Keep your fucking mouth shut, don't touch me
or I'm gonna give you to the fucking niggers.
All right.
They'll have your ass for free.
How much fucking money is in there?
Woman: I take what I get from you guys.
Fuck you!
You fucking nasty-ass bitch touch me one more time
and I'm gonna break your fucking neck.
Get your nasty ass back out there
and make some fucking money.
Hey, leave her alone.
- It's a private party, man.
Dude, get that chink out of here!
- Hyah! - Tony!
Chinese motherf... ugh!
Fuck.
Oh shit.
Oh shit!
- You okay? - Oh my God, no.
Oh my God. Do you know who these guys are?
- Why, should I? - Yeah, 'cause you should know
who you're fucking with if you're gonna fuck with them!
That's why.
Want some of this?
Yeah, I do.
I got a fucking long way to go now.
You just fucking killed me.
How the fuck am I supposed to know?
They were hurting you.
They hurt me every fucking week.
God damn it, what the fuck am I gonna do now?
You got somewhere else to go, you should just go.
Or you can wait for the cops to show up
and tell them that you just jacked these fools
for a ho that ain't even here no more.
I know that you think that you're helping me...
It really ain't worth it, okay?
Thank you.
Fuck!
Fuck fuck fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!
Oh, shit, si.
You look like you got hit by a bus.
Who did this thing?
S... some guy.
One guy?
Mm-hmm.
Carsen and Mikey were roughing up
that little whore you keep up in room ♪9.
Tanya. Hmm.
This dude, he just lives there. He...
He come around and he fucked up Tony.
And me.
After that, I don't know.
I just woke up here.
Well, he killed carsen...
Shoved Mikey's knife up his throat.
Mikey's dead too... asphyxiated.
Crushed windpipe.
What about Tony?
He'll make it.
One of his testicles got crushed and infected,
so they'll have to cut them off.
Probably won't be able to talk so good.
You gotta cut off his balls, too.
I may do just that.
You know his name?
Just some quiet guy.
He's a chink or something.
Well, it's them quiet ones you gotta look out for.
Hey.
Don't say nothing to the cops.
We'll do this our way.
Right on.
Tanya's voice: Hey, you've reached my voicemail.
- Please leave me a message.
Tanya baby. It's Hollis.
There's been a problem. You ain't in none yet,
but you best call me real quick.
- Tanya: Hey. - Man: Hey.
- Vegas? - $40.
$40? Well...
Just keep this.
There you go.
Just...
Hollis: Tanya honey, where are you?
Tanya: I'm scared, Hollis.
Oh, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about.
I know it wasn't your fault.
- Hollis: You at the bus station? - Yeah.
I'm coming to pick you up.
Fuck.
Tanya: That... that jerk carsen...
He got rough with me
and this guy came out of nowhere.
Yeah, he lived two doors down from where I had you staying.
It's not like I said stuff to him or nothing.
- But he didn't come from nowhere. - Okay,
so I screamed a little when carsen pulled my hair.
This soldier boy and you got something going?
- No. - Tanya, don't fuck with me.
Okay, you know what? I did not ask for any of this shit.
I... carsen... He got too rough with me.
He got mean. He said these two tweakers,
that they could tag-team me and share me or some shit
- and teach me a lesson. - All right, quiet down.
I just...
Wanna go back to, like, the way it used to be, you know?
Like, you used to... Used to take me places,
really nice... really nice places.
We used to... we used to sleep in your bed together.
You know? Remember?
I don't like it like this.
Of course you don't.
Huh. Wanna come home with me?
Yeah, I do.
I waited all night for you.
Who is she?
Just a loose end.
Clean this shit up. Get the twats sold.
We got work to do.
Can we let this little bitch come first?
What'd you say?
Can we let this little bitch come first?
Carsen and Mikey got killed last night.
You fuckin' heard him. Get out!
Man: Get the fuck out of here. Let's go, move it.
Get up. Get out.
Get this bitch out.
Man: I was going to need help.
J.P. Was the one guy I could trust.
We gotta go to the cops.
It was self-defense. You'll get off.
Not what I did.
John, I'm telling you as your friend,
go to the police.
You're a vet, man. Who they gonna believe?
Some cranked-up assholes or you?
- You're a fucking war hero. - War hero?
No one gives a shit about us.
Don't be stupid, John.
Just go to the cops.
Make sure we have all that tip-top.
Hey, let him go.
He's okay.
Oh, what the fuck else? Damn.
Whoa.
- Morning, Carl. - Hey, Hollis.
What you doin' here?
Been something of a ruckus,
some people I know got hurt, Carl.
- You think I would ignore that? - No.
Come... come on in.
Oh, excuse... sorry.
Jesus h. Christ, Carl.
Even crackheads live better than you.
Well hey, you know what? I was gonna clean up today, so...
I don't give a shit how you keep yourself.
Do you want the key to Simon's?
The chink... quiet guy, what's his name?
Um, you mean John?
- Is he the quiet chink? - Uh... oh,
I guess so.
Then fucking yes, I mean fucking John.
Okay, uh, what about him?
- Everything. - All right, listen.
Mr. Hollis, I'm confused.
No, you're stupid, so I'll lay it out for you.
I wanna know everything about him that you do.
So you'll have a copy of his driver's license.
I'll start with that. Then I'll have his keys
while you write down a list of everything you know about him.
- Where he works. - Costmart.
- Carl? - What?
Hmm?
I don't like you much.
I just keep you here 'cause you just got
enough instinct towards self-preservation
not to be a liability. But if you interrupt me again,
I swear to God, that folder with the photos
will go to the d.A.
I'm sorry, holl...
I... Mr. Hollis.
So again, before I choke
on the stink of this shit-pile you call home,
everything you have on John the quiet chink...
- Right. - ...And the keys to his apartment
and a written list of everything you know about him:
Where he works, what he drives,
who he knows, who you've seen come through here.
- Right. - Every...
Fucking thing.
I'm... get... the key.
Um, 205.
Fuck you.
Copy that.
You gonna crash on the couch?
You still gonna sleep there?
I'll be back later.
If they know it's me, they'll bust me. If not...
If not, you'll tell them what went down.
Maybe.
Cool?
Keep a tight ass, brother.
Excuse me. Detective Mitchell.
- Yes sir? - Got a minute?
Yes, I do.
So are you staying in this place?
Yes sir, in 205.
- John nguyen. - John.
Can I inspect some I.D.?
That's a different address.
It's my parents.
I just came back from overseas.
- Military? - Yes sir. Army.
Kind of figured that.
- Thank you for your service. - Of course.
I don't mean to pry, but I'm just trying to figure out
what the hell you're doing here.
It's just temporary.
Well, not for nothing, but it's kind of a bad place.
The sooner you move on, the better.
What happened?
Eh, just a couple of scumbags wasting taxpayers' money.
That's too bad.
Here's my card. Detective Mitchell.
You need something,
you hear something, you let me know.
- Yes sir. Thank you. - All right.
Hey, kid. What'd you do in the army?
Mostly whatever I was told.
Roger that.
What a fucking dump.
Oh, you're still here.
Yep.
Do you work for Hollis?
Um, kind of.
- You? - Nothing like that.
Nothing like what?
You see, he's starting this
- video production company. - Let me see if I remember:
He's starting this production company.
Got the name, like, copyrighted and everything.
Hmm? He's gonna make you the big star.
You'll make, like, six figures in the first year easy.
Mainly girl-on-girl... none of that hardcore shit, you know?
Oh, but hey, the investors?
Really wealthy guys,
so if you wanna, like, take 'em out, show 'em a good time,
they tip really really well.
And it'll get the company up and running.
Is that about right?
- I am nothing like you. - Oooh.
What do you like better on me? Black or pink?
You sure look pretty all cleaned up.
I ain't slept like that in forever.
I shaved for you.
I'm sure the boys will appreciate that.
What was going on in that little mind of yours?
You think we was going steady or something?
I mean, how many dicks have you had up inside you
since we last fucked?
500?
1,000 maybe?
You think 'cause you shaved the hair off your snatch,
I was gonna forget that little detail?
I don't...
I don't really know. I thought...
I know you didn't like carsen and Mikey,
but they were my brothers.
I didn't have nothing to do with that.
Yes, you did, Tanya. You did.
I know it ain't fair.
Besides, what about that bus ticket?
How'd you get money for that?
Did you steal it from my guys?
Come on, Tanya. You know better.
Here's where you belong, working for me.
It's as simple as that.
Mitchell: I don't really like the color of the walls at all.
Yellow or something like that for you.
Hey, I was in the garage,
and I was putting your shoes
in those boxes that you like.
You know, we got moths, by the way.
Anyways, but this is what I found.
Remember that?
It's the brochure from that land deal
your sister wanted us to get into... in Idaho.
Remember that sheriff that kept trying to hire me?
He thought, uh, that rusted pickup truck
was a selling point?
Should've taken the job.
I am angry all the time now, Sams.
I just can't let go of shit anymore, you know?
I just can't breathe.
So?
Well, I checked this guy out on the Internet.
Booyah. His parents have a dry-cleaners,
and he also has a very pretty little sister.
I think it's time to scale up.
We're like rats, living off scraps for too long.
Burn it.
And them.
Whew.
That's a lot of heat.
Who runs it?
- I don't know nothing. - Hey, what's up, Tweety?
- Yeah, forget you, slick.
- Hey, boss. - Hey, gut.
What's all this?
You need something in particular?
Hotel manager said he slept through the whole thing.
Yeah.
It looks like the only loose end we got is, uh...
The soldier you interviewed.
John... John nu...
- Nguyen. - Nguyen.
Checked his alibi. He's solid.
Well, it looks like we're at a dead end.
That's why it's called an investigation.
Treat it like a homicide. Work the facts.
I'll see you later.
- Whoo! - Get your ass out of here.
Go!
Go left!
Thug: Shut the fuck up!
Shut up! Shut up!
Shut that little chink up. Let's go!
- God damn it! - Father: Ming, ming!
Pick her up!
Come here, mama.
Vin: Shut her up.
Thug: Shut up, old man.
Let's go, man, let's go.
Vin: Shut up!
Get in there.
- Get in there. - Get in there, mama.
Pipe down, all right?
- Shut the fuck... - Come on, drive!
That's what I'm talkin' about.
Thug: Spread that bitch's legs.
Hold that little fucker down.
- Fuckin' hold her down. - Thug ♪2: God damn it.
Thug: Look at me, you little slut.
Yeah.
Yeah. Take that shit.
Little fuckin' chink slut.
Come on.
Thug: Yeah.
Drown her ass.
Boys, run like fuck.
Is it them?
Jesus.
All right, we'll call that a positive I.D.
Man: Ho, ming, and Daniel nguyen.
So, John, what happened
in that motel?
What?
Come on, I'm not stupid.
I don't believe in coincidences.
Who did this?
If I knew,
I wouldn't be standing here.
Yeah.
But you know something.
Like what?
Like what kind of shit are you mixed up in?
Who'd have a reason to do something like this?
What makes you think I know?
That look on your face, your reaction.
You think this is the first time I've seen a burned body?
No. But this is your family.
Where were you night before last?
At my friend's place.
Had a couple of drinks,
couldn't drive. I told you.
Am I a suspect?
No, not yet.
Don't walk away, John. I'm trying to help you here.
Help?
What help can you give me?
Come on, kid. You gotta talk to me.
Johnny, come on.
Kid!
John: I need to use your dad's workbench.
I need his shotgun too.
John, get a grip. This ain't the time to do dumbass shit.
You need to step off and think right now, John.
You got cops here. Real cops
that do their shit right.
Let them find these motherfuckers.
We need to go and tell them the truth.
I need that shotgun.
That ain't gonna bring 'em back.
John: What do you think I'm gonna do?
File a fucking report?
Oh yeah.
Hey!
Ow ow!
That's my dick!
- Shut up. - Ow!
Get up.
Let go, please please!
Farragut: When they came for him...
Hey, sarge. How's your wife?
Good. Uh... so.
Dispatch says we got a kidnapping.
Yeah, Carl Schlinger. He's the manager here.
- What a shithole. - Farragut: Yeah.
They'll burn a family alive,
but can't drop a match in this fucking place?
- Yeah. - No kidding.
Looks like the intruder blasted his way right in here.
Clever son of a bitch loaded a 12-gauge shell up
with nickels... he hammered right through the lock.
- That's an I.E.D. - Yeah.
Expensive shot.
Hey! Hey hey hey.
I'll do... I didn't do it. No, why did you shoot me?
Don't shoot.
I didn't do nothing. I... all right!
I didn't...
Anyone there?
Bet you shit when the gun went off, huh?
Looks like he, uh, caught up with our man here
while he was watching TV... Homemade kiddie porn.
Little boy, about eight.
That's some fucked-up shit you watch.
- You in some kind of club? - No no no, no.
I-I... I got a friend.
He's in Memphis.
And he just sends it to me, man. I say, I don't pay for this.
I don't. It's just... it's just...
- Just like that, he sends it to you? - Yeah.
Or do you fucking order it?
No no no. I know it's wrong.
And I'm sorry. It's just that I...
I got a problem.
I do and I'm sorry. I said that.
I just... I don't understand. It's just porn.
- Mitchell: What's that? Crystal? - Salt.
- Salt? - Yeah, best I can figure is
the perp busted down the door with the nickels.
Bang, hit Schlinger with another shot.
This whole thing is loaded with rock salt.
The shit went right through the cushions.
All right, so our guy's got a plan.
Comes in, specialized round for the door,
specialized round for the target.
John, what the fuck, man?
Are you lost your mind?
I didn't do nothing to you.
What the fuck are you doing, man?
I mean, what is this about? Why you got me tied up?
Why'd you fuckin' shoot me, man?
That shit in the parking lot.
Who came looking for me?
I... I didn't say nothing.
I swear to God. I didn't say nothing, John.
- Fucking more salt? - No!
- Oh yeah. - Come on, man. What the fuck is this?
I don't get it.
The old lady across the street says she sees
one man carry another one out, dump him in a car, drive off.
- So we got a witness? - No.
Couldn't see the perp.
His face was concealed by Schlinger.
Fireman's carry.
- Did she see a car? - Car?
Get this: "Something gray."
- Yeah. - Farragut: Jesus.
- That guy you told about me? - Uh-huh?
He's a serious guy, huh?
- You wanna know what he did, Carl? - No.
No, I don't.
He burned my family alive.
Oh, I didn't... I don't know, John.
I swear, I had nothing to do with it.
Who the fuck is this guy?
I can't!
Shit.
God damn it.
What the fuck is wrong with you, man?
You don't know this motherfucker!
He doesn't fucking know me!
And neither do you!
Okay okay.
Okay okay. Listen...
His name's h-h-Hollis.
He's Mr. Hollis.
Where do I find him?
I don't know! Okay?
He... he finds you.
That's how this thing works, man.
And I'm gonna tell you something: This guy is white-hot.
He's fucking wood, man.
He's prison shit, jailhouse shit.
He's hard as a rock, man. This motherfucker don't fuck around.
You feeling me on this? Yeah, he don't fuck around.
You think I would take this shit from this guy
if he fucked around? Huh?
Tell me more.
He's into everything. Whores...
Hookers, drugs, guns...
Everything.
- That girl. - What girl?
That I see around a lot.
Tanya? That bitch?
- She part of his crew? - Yeah, goddamn right she's part...
He owns that ho.
Listen, fuck all that.
Listen, John, I swear to God,
I didn't... I didn't know
that they would hurt your family.
Please, man, I didn't know.
You get high?
Sss... yeah, I mean...
- His drugs? - No!
H-his dealer.
Let's get high.
Oh shit.
Shit.
Bennet: Magic man.
How are you, man?
You snuck up on me, man, motherfucker.
- You keeping my seat warm?
Come on in.
So you in business with Hollis now.
So are you.
That's a bad habit.
And I don't allow smoking in my car.
Oh, it's your car now.
Well, I just deposited 200 gs on the backseat
for the drugs in the trunk.
So, yeah, I think that makes it mine.
There are no drugs in the trunk, Inglaterra.
Did I ever tell you I had a cat named magic once?
And it was a pussy too, just like you.
Maybe you don't understand American.
I'm the last thing you're ever going to see.
Well, that's depressing.
I'm going to keep the money.
Yeah.
How you feel me now?
About that.
Whoa, easy easy. Calmate, bro.
Now I'll put that down to stupidity.
Now, you listen and you listen good.
You back off.
And you start walking down that street.
Okay, calmate, calmate, brother.
Yo yo, I was just... I was just playing with you, man. Fuck.
Easy easy, okay?
We still friends?
All right.
I'll catch you on the flipside.
Yeah, you will, yeah.
You've just broken a deal.
I'm taking me business elsewhere!
Bang, motherfucker.
Let's go.
- Ow, my... aah! Ow, yo yo. - Shh.
Close the door. Close the door.
You'll let me go after this, right? If I do you right?
Maybe your friend might have some fucking painkillers too.
Oh, this motherfucker got everything.
Man, that shit hurt, man.
You shot me in my nuts, man.
Motherfuck.
Carl: Hey.
- What's up? - Hey.
You're supposed to, um,
call before you roll up here.
I was in the neighborhood.
What the fuck happened to your... to your shit?
What's there to dig? What's that?
I got bit, man, by a motherfucking rottweiler.
It tore my shit up.
Who the fuck is that guy?
He wanna party.
Oh, well, shit,
- that's the fuckin' password. All right. - Yeah.
- Carl: How you been, man? - Good, I've been good.
Don't y'all niggas get too comfortable.
I wanna make this a drive-thru.
Get the fuck out of here with that nonsense.
- Get on your knees. - Eat my ass.
- Get over here. - I am!
Face the fucking wall.
Put this shit on him now.
- Nice and tight. - Put your hands behind you.
Come on, man. This motherfucker's crazy.
Give me your other hand.
Dawg, I didn't do this shit, all right?
- I didn't do this... - Fuck off.
- I thought I was done! - On your knees. Shut up, get on your knees.
This is fucked up.
- I can't deal with... - Shh.
Please... not cool.
Aw shit.
Anyone else in here?
Nah, your mama just left.
Shut the fuck up.
Oh my God...
Motherfucker, what's wrong with you?
- Fucking quiet out here... - Hey!
Carl: Oh shit!
John: Who are you?
Listen, man.
The gear's in the back of the car, if that's what you're after.
John: Name?
Oh, do you want my phone number as well?
A lot of guys think that the Iraqis are dumb.
I mean, half of them don't even have fucking toilets.
Wipe their asses with their hands.
You ever heard of the ba'ath party?
No, but I could do with one right now.
The ba'ath party uses torture
like some kind of game.
We found this tape
with some of their interrogation.
Shit was fucked up.
What's your problem?
Just tell me.
When I hit you with this electricity,
all your muscles and ligaments
will pop.
And you're gonna burn from the inside out.
Almost forgot. Come on.
Don't want you to bite off your tongue, now, do we?
Huh-uh huh-uh.
Who's Hollis?
He's a cunt.
- So you do know him? - Yes!
I fucking know him!
How do I get to him?
You get in line.
Listen, why is this so fucking personal?
It's as personal as it gets.
Family.
It was your family, wasn't it?
Listen, man.
I had nothing to do with it.
I'm sorry for that shit.
Just tell me... What do I have to do
to walk out of here?
What do you have to sell?
All I know is he's got a big meth lab on the east side.
- He cooks his shit up there 24 hours a day. - And?
And if you wanna hurt him real bad,
you hit his wallet.
That's all I fucking got.
Come on.
Fuck.
- Hey, Carl. - What?!
Got some painkillers for you.
Oh shit, thank you. Thank you.
- I'm hurting, man. I'm fucking hurting. - Oxy-codeine or something?
No, that's... oh shit shit, that's oxycontin, nigga.
Give me some of that shit.
That shit hurt me. I didn't mean to put you on front street...
Take one for the pain, man. Here here.
Thank you.
Hey, I...
Okay.
- How about one for that shin, huh? - Yeah.
Yeah yeah,
- because... - Open it up now. There we go.
I can leave? We cool, right?
I-I mean, I didn't do what these motherfuckers
did to you. I just talked a little bit.
How about one more? Just for all the pain and shit?
- That's a little much, man. - Huh?
- I... - Come on.
That one's for the boy in the video.
How'd it go last night?
Look, Hollis, I don't know how to tell you this, but...
I just don't know if I'm up for this shite anymore.
What do you mean?
You know, the murders, like,
burning people, I just...
I don't know if I've got it in me still, you know?
- Farragut: Hollis, listen to this. - What?
You know that pervert you keep at the hotel?
He fucking kidnapped him or something. I don't know.
- Son of a bitch. - Who was that?
It's that guy I told you about.
Yeah? And what?
Yeah, the chink... nguyen.
Oh fuck!
What's happening?
He kidnapped the pervert I keep at the hotel.
But why?
I think to find out who toasted his family.
I don't need you getting soft on me now.
I need you on this,
- 100%. - All right.
100%.
All right.
- What do you got? - About 45¢ so far.
Who's the dead guy?
Guys, plural.
Lionel Murray, aka dent,
and our favorite missing pederast...
...Carl Schlinger.
No shit?
Got a c.O.D.?
Somebody forced him to swallow about 20 oxycontin tabs.
That'll do it.
Murray's got about half his head left.
And then Schlinger...
Zip-tied, trussed up,
injuries prior to death.
Yeah?
Salt blasted into his groin, his penis,
his shit. Oh man.
He shot him in the fucking balls?
Fucking poetic.
But we still have a murder and kidnapping suspect out there.
You know, I think it's time we...
Make him an official suspect.
Why? Because of a bag of nickels?
Well, you know it's him.
No shit.
- It's a theory. - Well, so's evolution,
but I don't know a better one out there.
Evidence, mark, let's just get some evidence.
Don't be daft, girl.
I'm not here to hurt you.
Let's get you washed up.
Come on. Come on.
Come on.
Fucking monsters.
It's okay.
It's gonna be okay.
I'm gonna get you out of here.
Hey.
I've been on the phone with D.C. since 6:00.
- Why D.C.? - John nguyen.
It turns out he was a green beret.
He's got a list of medals half a page long.
And check this out.
He's famous.
- What am I watching? - Just wait for it.
Motherfucker.
Pentagon confirms it's him.
Honorable discharge.
Serious medical file.
Apparently being a guest of the Taliban for a few weeks
seriously messed up this guy.
Show some respect. He's a decorated veteran.
Hey hey, look, that doesn't make him innocent.
Okay? We got means,
we got motive and opportunity.
Then why Schlinger? Why dent?
What's the connection between them
and a couple of Aryan brother types
found dead in the motel parking lot?
I don't know. Maybe this is the tip of the shitberg or something.
Maybe he's working his way up the ladder.
All right, then let's find out who's on the ladder.
Start a board,
connect the dots, start a web.
So we're gonna put out an alert.
Not yet.
He's a suspect in four deaths.
Yeah, and they probably all earned it.
They're probably the guys that killed his family.
And that's a fucking case we haven't done shit on, isn't it?
So we're just gonna let him do our job for us?
Why not?
- He's more effective than we are. - All right.
Man: Your president says America is leaving Afghanistan.
This is good.
Afghanistan is not for you.
Which of the villagers is working with you, huh?
Is it Abu Gadir? Is it Amir Gutz?
Come on. You tell me.
You will tell me everything.
Tell me what I want to know and you will go home.
- Yeah. - Bennet, it's vin.
Got some nervous people over here.
Yeah, listen, I've dropped Hollis's cash off with Goldie.
Whoa whoa whoa.
What's going on, Bennet?
Not enough money in the world.
Talk to me, man.
As I said, just take my advice, make yourself scarce.
I just can't do that.
It's complicated, mate.
Well, then I guess this is goodbye, mate.
Okay well,
cheers.
See ya soon.
♪ time...
What the...?
What do you want, fuckface? Huh?
You want me to say I'm fuckin' sorry?
Is that what you want?
Fuck! I'm sorry!
Oh my God.
Ah.
Oh man.
What the fuck?
What are you doing? Digging for gold or what?
It'd be a lot easier if it wasn't so damn small.
That little bitch is dug in there.
- You want a swig of this? - No. Just fuckin' focus.
- Get that shit out of there. - Give me a second.
All right, try not to move.
- Yeah, you're right. - Brace yourself.
- This might hurt a little bit. - Okay.
- Fuck. - Oh!
Oh, I got... I got that sucker.
- I got it. - Yeah?
Oh, man, we gotta clean that up.
Yeah, I need those painkillers.
You're gonna need it a little bit more after this.
Oh fuck fuck fuck.
- All right, hold your breath. - Motherfucker.
Hollis: Leave a message after the fucking beep.
Vin: Hollis.
I think soldier boy's hit our supply lines.
It's deadly silent here.
So...
- I can't, man. - Your mom can.
And if she gets fired?
How's she gonna get fired?
It's the fucking d.M.V., retard.
Dude, this is mad fucking illegal.
And you're out there killing motherfuckers.
Just get me the address.
Dude, it's her job.
It's my family.
They burned them alive.
It's fucked up, I know,
but we can't keep doing this shit.
You know what's fucked up?
The fact that you're not doing everything that you could to help me.
John, this is insane. This is the real fucking world.
- This ain't Afghanistan. - What happened to you?
You lose your leg and your nutsack too?
- Fuck you, man! - Help me.
I'll get you your damn address.
Forget the address! Let's get these guys!
What the fuck is my handicapped ass gonna do?
What are you gonna do? Play games for the rest of your life?
- What do you care? - I care.
And I only trust you.
I'll get you the address,
but why can't you understand
I ain't that fucking guy anymore?
John.
You'd really want me to roll with you?
Hell yeah.
Give me an hour.
I'll get the address.
Angeles, take a walk around and see what you can find, okay?
Thanks, man.
Protect and serve, my ass.
Just picking up the pieces here, pal.
This is a big lab.
Somebody's gonna feel this.
Any idea who's running it?
None.
Still counting the bodies upstairs.
A fuckin' video game in there.
Check this out. The one outside, he was a lookout.
Right through the back, into the lungs, across the carotid...
Straight out of the special forces hand-to-hand combat manual.
Nguyen.
Yeah, he's out of control.
All right, put it out...
Name, description,
last known location.
Shit.
Any luck with the known associates for the motel guys?
No. Not a thing.
- See you later. - All right.
Mitchell: Angel, over there. Yeah.
Farragut: Hey.
Look, I'm holding 'em off as long as I can.
What do you wanna hear from me?
What do I wanna hear?
I'll tell you what the fuck I wanna hear.
What I wanna hear is, "thanks for all the fucking money
you've been sending my way, Hollis."
That's what I wanna hear. Don't tell me what you can't do.
Look, who's the cop and who's the felon here, okay?
What, do you think I'm gonna drop your money
in my checking account like some green asshole?
I can nail your ass any time I want, okay? You savvy that?
Okay, tell me what you have in mind.
You want nguyen.
I need to solve a triple murder, okay?
I need names, I need evidence. I need 'em all.
Okay, I'll think about it.
This isn't a negotiation.
Hey, mark,
say hi to Carol and the kids for me.
That's gonna leave a mark.
Taliban 101.
Wanna go get that?
I gotta pour wax over the edges, seal this up.
All right, keep it quiet.
Hi, I'm detective Mitchell.
Um, are you Mcintyre?
Jean Paul Mcintyre?
Yes sir. Can I help you?
I got some questions about John nguyen.
He's a friend of yours, right?
Did you find out who killed his family?
We're working on it.
Look, John has got himself
mixed up with some very dangerous individuals.
Heh.
That's funny to you?
You ever been in combat?
This is what danger looks like.
Um, thank you for your service.
I'm sorry about the leg, but what the fuck is your point?
What would you do if it was your family?
What is it with you guys?
I need information to do my job.
I can't help if you don't tell me something.
Tell you something about what?
Excuse me.
Mitchell.
Yeah, I'll be right there.
You Mitchell?
I understand you're looking for John nguyen.
I was his C.O.
So you understand, I'm not here officially.
Roger that.
Army never should have let him out in the world the way they did.
They treated him like surplus equipment,
like a car more expensive to repair than replace.
How you doing, major?
I ain't broken-down enough yet, sir,
- so I'm doing just fine. - Good.
Is there a particular reason
- you're here? - You're gonna hunt him down.
That's what you do. That's your function.
Before you do,
I thought you might like to know in another time and place
you'd be thanking the lord almighty Jesus Christ
he was on your side.
John was a born leader.
And he's a true killer. Cold as fuck if you're down range.
But, man,
he'd take candy bars,
hand 'em out to little kids
just to see the look on their faces.
Volunteer for vaccination details.
You just don't get many men like that. You know this, Mr. Mitchell.
I just thought someone should know who he was.
You understand me?
I think someone out there
should know who he is.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Hey, Griggs.
What's your recommendation?
I'd find the men who killed his family
and I'd put 'em away.
Then I'd wait for John to turn himself in,
because that's what he'll do.
He won't run from what he's done.
He's just not wired that way.
He believes in justice.
And if you can't deliver it, well then,
you can be sure as hell John will.
Good day, Mr. Mitchell.
What you said really hurt, man,
but I needed to hear that shit.
I haven't left this house in weeks.
Fuckin' weeks.
Every time I go out, some motherfucker's gotta remind me
I got my goddamn leg blown off.
"Oh, we're so proud of you."
"God bless you, you're so brave."
I see those motherfuckers eyeballing my prosthetic,
thinking, "this poor guy."
I've been home for over a year now,
just sitting around getting soft,
letting all that pity make a bitch out of me.
But fuck that shit.
Let's do this.
Let's fuckin' do this.
- John: What you got? - Got another baldy with an a.K.
That makes 12.
Not including Hollis.
Get that gate.
Let's get this motherfucker.
Hollis: Alone at last.
Thought you don't like used goods?
Well...
There's still a little juice left in you, honey.
You just gotta know how to squeeze.
Do whatever the fuck you want.
That's it, baby. Come on.
- Fuck fuck! - That's it, baby.
- That's it. - Hollis, stop!
- Fuck! - Fight me, fight me.
Hollis, stop!
Come on. That's it, bitch.
Fuck off.
That's it, yeah.
That's it. Yeah.
Hollis!
I thought I told you to go out.
Just tell me when.
You wanna do this?
Vin, who you kidding?
Three seconds.
Two, one.
Hit it.
Nice.
Man: Hey, what the fuck was that?
Don't kill 'em. Just wound 'em.
Got 'em.
John: Got another guy coming in.
Head shot. Head shot.
- Are you sure? - Yup.
- Go! - This is not over.
Bitch. I'm not done with you yet.
Stay down!
You two, out the back.
You two, by the side.
John: Put another one in him.
- Forget Marty. - Hey... what do you mean, "forget Marty"?
He's right here. He's fuckin' dying, man.
Help!
He isn't dead. What do you mean he's...
If you wanna help Marty, you get that prick.
- Understand? - Damn it!
Cover me. I'm moving in.
Copy that.
Psst.
What the fuck was that?
You don't pay me enough for this shit.
I'm out of here.
- Ow! - You fucking idiot.
Come out and fight me, you coward.
Aah!
You wanna play? Let's play.
Oh, you bastard.
You wanna tell me who's in the house?
I'll tell you how long before you bleed out.
Hollis! And a girl.
Apply pressure on it.
Prick.
John: Eyes open. I'm going in.
Shh.
Untie me.
Careful.
I almost thought you wouldn't be that stupid.
Stone cold as you are,
I thought you might leave the bitch.
But you're not really cold, are you?
Guess not.
Shit, John, I don't have many regrets,
but fuckin' with you might be one of 'em.
And then you let me get the drop on you...
Over a girl.
Guess you got one more regret now, huh, motherfucker?
Drop the gun.
Look at you.
Well, come on, killer.
Go to work. What gets you hard, ain't it?
Hurting people?
Okay, come on. Come on, soldier boy.
Why don't you get off?
Huh? Come on. Go to work.
Come on, John. Finish the sick fuck.
Jesus.
Ugh. Detective farragut,
meet John nguyen.
Shit. Ugh!
Johnny, this is Cory.
He was there that night your family got barbecued.
I wasn't there myself, but...
From what I heard
old Cory here had a pretty good time with your sister.
Hell,
we all did. I just got to go first.
- Fuck you. - Farragut: Can we speed this up?
Hollis: Put the cuffs on him.
Farragut: Ah, Jesus.
All right. Kill the gimp.
- No! You let him go! - Jeez.
You got me! You got me!
- Let him go! - Hey, aren't you gonna say please, John?
Please! You got me!
It's cool, bro.
Look at him.
No! No!
No!
Aah! No!
No no!
- No! Oh fuck! - Jesus Christ.
- No. - Jesus, Hollis.
Don't worry. You'll get your money.
- You like money, don't you, mark, huh? - Fuck!
Getting your pretty little wife all waxed and botoxed?
How do you think I get that money?
What do you think, I was out
in a red fuckin' Santa suit ringing a bell? Look at this.
That's the tit you've been sucking on.
All right, Cory. You think you can take him?
I'm gonna fuck this gook up.
Take the cuffs off.
- Sorry. - You ain't sorry,
but you will be.
All right, come on, guys.
Let's have some fun.
Don't you wanna know?
Know what?
If you still got it.
Farragut: Finish it, Hollis.
You got three guns on me.
Don't you wanna see if you can?
Huh? What is it? You don't wanna get your hands dirty?
If you want something done...
Think I'm gonna enjoy this.
Ugh!
That's all you got, soldier boy?
Hollis!
I got him. Say the word, Hollis!
John: I'm sorry, man.
We fucked 'em up though.
We got 'em.
Fuck 'em.
You still alive, kid?
Still wanna know what happened at the motel?
I got a pretty good idea what happened there, kiddo.
Let's go. Let's get out of here.
- What about all this? - What about all this?
I call this in, you're going to jail for a very long time.
I know.
It's not gonna happen. Not on my watch.
But you're a cop.
Yeah, I am.
And that's not justice.
This is a, uh, certain kind of justice.
Everybody here got exactly what they deserved.
Except for him.
He's my friend.
Yeah. He was.
I got this. Get out of here.
John: I know that J.P. Died with honor.
And I know that my family would be proud of me.
I won't be ashamed and afraid to see them again someday.
They say what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.
I don't know if that's true,
but I know that the nightmares have subsided.