7 Seconds (2005)

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7 Seconds (2005)

Post by bunniefuu »

What?

Why are you a thief, Jack?

Diplomatic corps wouldn't take me.

Besides, I like to think that I'm doing

my part...

for international relations.

You've been here six months, Tuliver.

All you want to do is joke and play.

Americans, never a straight answer.

m*llitary taught me three things:

how to k*ll, how to steal...

and never surrender information.

I wasn't much on the k*lling part.

But I'm willing to try again.

If you know what I mean.

For my country, of course.

You can do so much with your life.

I am doing something.

- We are doing something.

- Well, we can do some more.

No.

Come back here, Suza.

Get dressed.

Don't be late for work.

I hate work.

She was a mature woman.

Mature women run at Spanky.

Did you wear

your"Don't f*ck me, I'm a q*eer" T-shirt?

She was crazy begging for it.

Begging me to give it to her, Spanky-style.

The last woman to beg you to do anything

was your mama...

and that was to clean up your room.

I was sporting it fresh, mate.

Pimp daddy.

Eastern Bloc loves Western cock.

- Know what I mean?

- Oh, you know what I mean?

- You sure that thing's gonna work?

- T!

- And the detonators?

- Everything's cool.

Just like the plan, T-man.

Three trucks.

Three locations.

Go!

k*ll the engine.

Let's move.

Do it. Go!

We've been hit.

One prize depot.

Sectors 3 and 5...

Christ.

...Code 14 alert.

sh*t.

- Three signals.

- Three trucks.

Twenty casinos unloading

all at the same time.

Gentlemen, we are about to be

$20 million richer.

Get out of the truck! Get your ass out.

Down on the ground!

Get on the ground!

Get your ass out of there! Lay down!

Move it!

I sure hope you have big pockets.

Call the police.

'Cause that's $3 million apiece.

- On the ground, stay down!

- Don't sh**t.

- Open the back!

- I can't .

Open the back or I'll open your head!

- I can't . It's on timer.

- Manual open it.

No, it's on timer.

It only opens at the location or the depot.

You blew the electrics. I can't open it.

Seven seconds.

Where did you find those timers? Pull out.

Team One, out.

- Out! Back to the van!

- Pull out!

Team Two, talk to me. Pull out.

- Move your ass.

- Get in!

Move your ass, Charlie.

Yes, who is this? Yes, Capt. Szabo.

Yes, we do. Well, they must have our routes.

I'm pulling all the trucks back

to the main depot.

Can we get police escorts?

- How many trucks?

- Fourteen.

Pull them all back on high alert.

You catch these bastards, Captain.

All trucks, Code 86.

Return immediately to the depot.

Problem. We're turning around,

back to the depot.

- Why?

- We're all being pulled back.

Police escort is on its way.

Hello, Cristina.

Okay, gentlemen, we have a situation.

Please take that to the vault

and lock up your shotguns. Thank you.

We don't work for Vanderbrink.

No overtime for us.

And our case is for

Mr. Bostnescu in Bucharest.

- Vanderbrink policy-

- Change of policy, Barney.

Get us a driver.

And get us and this case to our location.

Right now.

- Touchy.

- Touchy assholes.

- Sorry, Mr. Vanderbrink.

- No, that's fine.

What's going on?

You better go to the briefing room, Cristina.

No phones.

Thirteen.

Okay, everyone in the truck.

Here we go again.

One more time!

Come on, move it out, people. Move it out.

How's the foot, Bull?

Were you raised by hamsters or something?

Crazy hamsters, Bull.

We got eight minutes

till the final crew arrives.

And most likely

the Bucharest Police Department...

and about 3,000 NATO troops

stationed at various bases around this city.

So, be quick, be quiet, be clean.

Oh, yeah, another thing.

Last person on the beach

can kiss my sandy ass.

Sync. Let's go.

Oh, sh*t.

Hey, let's play a game.

Get on the floor! Get on the f*cking floor!

Go!

Everything's secure

and everyone's accounted for?

Last truck is at the gates now.

Everything's in the vault.

Except for the two posers in Truck Four.

Will you go and talk to them?

I'll debrief the crew.

- Go!

- Three minutes and counting.

Should read your classics, man.

Everything's here. Come and get it.

Bring them in.

Vanderbrink Securities came to Romania

to do business.

Your decisive actions this morning...

has kept Vanderbrink

the most secure transport in the world.

Unfortunately...

a police captain is on his way

to interview each and every one of you.

But just, please,

be as honest with him as you can be.

Where's Cristina?

Cristina Grigore?

- Jack.

- Nice job.

One minute!

Anyone got a cell phone?

Sorry, Mr. Vanderbrink.

No. Of course not.

That's it.

Ready?

- Shall I drive?

- Men.

Two pros.

One of them had a case tied to his arm.

It must be something big.

- He wouldn't let go.

- How big?

Oh, sh*t.

An ArmorLite.

Couldn't put a b*llet through this.

Practically impossible to open.

One-time keypad, custom job, very hi-tech.

Nice. This case is smoking up, baby!

Happy birthday.

Get the bags. Let's move it.

Sir, I had to call in a NATO b*mb squad.

No, sir, not yet.

- Captain.

- Not now.

- But, Captain-

- Hold on, Commissioner.

I'm -

What are you doing?

Have you lost your mind?

I love the smell of Fart Putty in the morning.

My kids have some.

Drive me nuts with it all day.

Get me Vanderbrink.

- No answer.

- Get someone over there, now!

Whoa, what?

What's the matter?

Why'dyou stop, Charlie?

- Why'dyou stop driving?

- Charlie who?

Jack!

Bang, bang, bang!

No, Bull!

Give us the case, Tuliver, or you won't live!

Jack!

- k*ll him.

- Jack!

Don't sh**t the case.

Go!

Explain this one to me.

How was the suspect driving in your car,

holding your g*n, Sgt. Anders?

I was buying coffee.

English?

- That bad?

- Not that bad.

Police?

m*llitary police. Weekend pass from the base.

In Costanza?

I thought it was an American base.

It's a NATO base, so it's mostly Americans.

Some Brits. Not too many French.

sh*t.

Stay down. Stay inside. Call the police.

Drop the case, Tuliver.

You, stay!

sh**t him!

Police. Drop it!

- Armed robbery in progress.

- Get the case.

- Vanderbrink Security.

- Get the case.

All units to Pietra Romano.

Suspect armed and dangerous.

Car. Yeah, car.

- No.

- Yeah.

- Look, I need a ride.

- sh*t.

Throw the case in the car.

- Jeez!

- Hold on!

Crap.

- You may have a death wish. I don't .

- That's good, Private.

You just stay like you are,

we'll get along just fine.

That's Sgt. Anders, shitbag.

You'll be meeting

the rest of the army real soon.

Armed robbery, kidnapping a m*llitary

police officer, a high-speed felony pursuit.

I'm sure they'll go easy on you in

the Romanian prison system.

What do you think, brains?

Or do you prefer shitbag?

No!

My car!

Just keep your panties on, okay?

No!

sh*t.

Hate to love you and leave you.

Today, Sergeant. Today.

Cheeky bastard.

Phone.

sh*t. I just bought that car, you w*nk*r.

What is in you that is so hot?

Then what, Sgt. Anders?

Then, for the fifth time,

the shitbag kidnapped me...

stole my car,

and trashed at least two cruisers...

motorcycles, and God knows what else!

Then, he just let you go?

What are you hiding, huh, Anders?

I could hide my foot up your-

- Sgt. Anders is cooperating fully, I see.

- Does she belong to you?

- Maj. Wilson, U. S. Embassy.

- Good.

Maybe you can tell me why,

of all people, your Sgt. Anders...

happened to be visiting from a NATO base

three hours away...

and conveniently buys a coffee in the street,

an American robs 20 casinos...

a priceless case...

- That's hardly a reason-

-... sh**t a cop...

then your Sgt. Anders drives him away,

oh, and gives him a g*n.

Captain, Sgt. Anders has been in

the m*llitary Police Department for two years.

- I can assure you, she is not-

- Look. It was an inside job.

I don't think our guy is the k*ller.

He saved my life, sir.

And you are so grateful that you drove

him away with $65-million case.

Sgt. Anders, would you

step outside, please?

Excuse me.

You have some jurisdiction here?

Are we under m*llitary command?

I know you guys are invading

all over Romania. Should I salute?

Capt. Szabo, you did call in

a NATO b*mb squad.

And you are illegally detaining

a British citizen.

Report to Lts. Tool and Banner.

Don't go too far, Anders.

New uniform or is it casual day today,

Sergeant? I didn't get the memo.

- Fun joy ride, Sgt. Anders?

- Spectacular, sir.

g*n and car. Impressive.

Did he tip?

You didn't drive him, too, did you?

Yeah. Nuts, hopefully.

- What do you need, Lieutenant?

- Photo fit.

Check the files to see if he comes up in a

mug sh*t in American, European databases.

The guy was a pro. I think it was two gangs,

one hitting the other.

Sgt. Anders, I have spoken with

your superior officer in Costanza.

The only pro you've ever seen

fixed the copier in your office.

Leave the detecting work to us.

- Do I need a lawyer, sir?

- You bet your ass.

You two have been assigned a desk,

in there. Get to work.

He answered your cell after the robbery?

Yeah, I lost that, too, sir.

Hello.

No, I'm sorry,

Kelly had to step out for a minute.

Call back later. Bye-bye.

Pray God Almighty

you do not know this man, Sergeant.

You'll face a court-martial.

Just wanted to make sure

we're clear on that.

Anders? Kelly Anders? We found your car.

I'm gonna k*ll that son of a bitch.

What was so difficult?

The case goes to Amsterdam, then to Berlin,

then you bring it back here to me.

Mr. Grapini, the depot security

wouldn't let us get-

You're not going to make excuses.

Please tell me you're not going to

justify losing the van Gogh...

What my partner was trying to say was-

...worth $65 million.

You have one of two options:

I can give you nothing

and ruin your careers...

or I can triple your fee.

Find that painting and bring it to me,

or destroy it.

I don't care which.

Bargaining chip.

I think you had better pray

that Tuliver loves you above all things...

little Suza.

Yes, sir.

You and your girlfriend packing for

a vacation, Spanky?

Yeah.

I took the blanks out of this one.

That was good, though. I must say.

Switching a*mo and everything.

Not me, man.

Come on, T, you brought me in on this.

"$20 mil.

"Just come meet Suza. Suza's got a plan. "

And you came back to your apartment?

Spanky, that's the very first rule.

Never go back to your apartment.

You know, I pulled together

some of the best soldiers I know.

And you.

Now they're all dead. But not you.

Please, I'm cool. J. T.

I need a name, Spanky.

You know they took Suza? Suza, Spanky!

- J. T., I wouldn't do you bad.

- Oh?

I'm just here to do the work.

- Right, right.

- That's all.

Do you know what I mean?

Oh, f*ck, man.

Please.

Okay.

No, don't leave. You will hurt our feelings.

Have we met?

I'll be your mugger tonight.

You have our case.

- You got my friend.

- We have your friend's life.

Well, you k*ll me

then you never get the case.

Who said anything about k*lling you?

It's in a locker in the bus station.

The key's in my left pants pocket.

Go on, check.

I was informed that you would be

more difficult.

- Check him.

- Come on.

Spanky style.

What the f*ck?

- Alexsie Kutchinov.

- I'm hungry.

Eating peas...

has become like climbing

the Ural Mountains.

How much money for a cure?

Nothing. There is no cure.

Irony always bites you...

in the ankles.

I hate to lose things, Spanky.

It is Spanky, isn't it?

Have you any idea

how ugly that can make me?

Ugly as a cr*ck ho on smack, Daddy?

- Tuliver?

- Don't know the cat.

Tuliver...

who just made me $20 million

ripping off every casino in the city.

I'm on vacation.

I don't know no Tuliver man, dude.

If you insist on lying to me, Spanky...

I will sh**t you.

They will drop you in the river.

Now, was it not Tuliver...

who k*lled six of my soldiers

in your apartment?

Was it not Tuliver who organized the heist...

and stole my case?

I don't know zip, P. Diddy.

Dudes tried to jump up my crib...

and then bam, Spanky was out,

just like Buster Douglas.

Except for that Tyson fight.

Okay. We have a saying in my country.

No.

"The shoe salesman...

"he never carries shoes. "

Now, where is Tuliver?

- Who does he trust?

- I don't know.

Spanky!

Damn it! Just can't ...

Mercea.

Mikhail Mercea.

Mikhail Mercea? Yes, I know him.

I know him.

Yeah. Okay. Good.

Spanky. Very good.

You want a sweet? Okay.

Check.

I love Romania.

Nothing. I don't think

he's been picked up before.

- Just look, Sergeant. Don't think.

- He knew my badge was a m*llitary ID.

m*llitary?

Back in the box, My Little Pony.

Lt. Tool, there was something wrong

with the sh**ting.

So I don't think he's the triggerman.

Cry me a river. He's a cop-k*ller, in my book.

Why don't you clear up a little around here?

Look for your new boyfriend's face. Unless,

of course, you ain't looking too hard.

Steal my phone, too, shitbag?

Sorry. It's habitual.

Actually I'm just borrowing it. I lost mine.

It's in the evidence bay. If you want it,

drop by the police station and we'll swap.

- Okay. Promise you won't arrest me?

- I promise.

So why were you crashing my party,

Sgt. Anders?

Oh. I didn't know I needed an invite...

Capt. Jack Tuliver,

disgraced Delta Force commando.

38 years old. Shall I go on?

Very good.

So you got a card in the game.

Talk to me, Tuliver.

Everybody else wants you dead.

A police officer was k*lled

in your raid today.

Not by me.

I'm about the only one that believes you.

And why would you believe me?

Well, I've driven with you, and I survived.

Which is more than I can say for my car.

Do you know how long it took me

to save up for that?

And I suppose you saved my life.

Oh, you're making me mushy, Sgt. Anders.

It was another g*ng that hit you,

wasn't it? Who?

Yeah, well, when I find out,

you'll be the first to know.

Any word from your guy?

Couldn't find their own asses after a crap.

Mikhail around?

Get lost.

Tell him that Tuliver is here.

"$1.3 million. "

"$800,000."

"$1.5 million. "

Where did they get $80 million?

A $65-million painting?

Now, I wonder what kind of case

that would be in, Capt. Tuliver?

You shouldn't have come here.

People want you dead.

You wouldn't happen to know

who's trying to k*ll me, would you?

Yeah. Me.

Oh, sh*t.

- What did you get Bull into, Tuliver, huh?

- Come on, he came to me.

Bullshit! Bull would have come to me

for a heist.

His own brother!

He would have been alive now.

- Bull's dead because of you.

- No, come on! No.

Both of my brothers d*ed around you.

And you are still alive?

Can you explain that to me?

What?

I lost 12 guys today.

I'll tell you another thing.

Every time one of your brothers d*ed,

so did I.

Tuliver.

Where are you going to go, huh?

Come on. What are you drinking?

Look. No g*ns. Okay?

- Come on.

- Look, Mik.

Bull came to me.

He met some girl that worked for

an armoured car company.

She came to him. He came to me.

That's it.

Delta Force.

"Frank'Bull' Mercea. "

Dorothy!

Bull Mercea. Buddy of yours, Jack?

What, do you bring your own people in

for the job?

Married. Bucharest.

Alexsie Kutchinov is

a very dangerous Russian.

He's put the word out on you.

- I could be k*lled for just talking to you.

- A gangster?

Gangster, a thief, drug dealer.

Covers it all with nightclubs,

art dealership, car dealers...

you name it.

If there is money to be made in this town...

you can be sure he's got a hand in it.

- He's got a friend of mine.

- Who?

A girl.

Jack!

Never let a woman

get into your business, Jack.

Tully.

Crazy as a shithouse rat.

I've always wondered

what my brothers saw in you.

Both so determined to become

American citizens. For what?

Even worse, that Bull should organize

a heist...

and not tell me.

It's nothing personal, Mik.

Stay here tonight.

Andre will take you to a safer place

in the morning.

Hi.

I'm sorry to drag you out so early,

Mr. Grapini.

Anything to help. Please.

So, you found an original van Gogh.

That's correct, isn't it?

Hiemler's Lily.

Hiemler's Lily?

I bought a consignment of paintings...

from a cousin of Hiemler,

Alfred Lindle, a Dutch artist.

I always liked his work. And the bank

wanted money for the debts he owed.

They sent me every painting in the house

for one price.

The Lily was in with them.

I thought it a prank, at first.

Well, apparently it is the real thing.

- Didn't Lindle claim it?

- No.

Like the original's owner,

he took his own life.

That poor painting travelled

all over Europe...

to be authenticated

by the insurance company.

It only had one more place to go

before I could show it.

Now it is a ghost again.

- Will the insurance cover it?

- It is covered.

But hopefully we'll never have to find out.

All I can trust is

that you people can do your job.

Can you?

Well, it's always hard

when things are stolen.

Young lady, this is not hard.

This is a f*cking tragedy.

I was just thinking about you.

Couldn't leave me alone, huh, Jack?

Well, I've already had my hands

down your pants.

Figured I'dtry for second base, Anders.

Well, my door's open. Come on over.

Now, what kind of man you take me for?

- A thief in the wrong country.

- Not a k*ller?

- Convince me.

- Blanks in the g*n.

Couldn't have sh*t him, even if I wanted to.

Now, why would you put blanks

in your g*n?

Looked like you were sh**ting

when I saw you.

Not at the cop.

And I didn't put blanks in my g*n.

Turn yourself in. The evidence will pan out.

You didn't tell them about me yet, did you?

What makes you say that?

My mug sh*t's not plastered

all over the news.

Well, did you mean to steal that case

or was that bonus?

Even thieves need to get lucky

every now and then.

What are you in this for, Anders?

I want you all for myself.

What's in the case?

Give me something

and I'll give you something.

Are we talking about the same thing?

Probably not.

Jack, think long and hard about what

you want from this relationship...

and then call me.

I will.

I'm starting to like you, Anders.

Always leave them hanging.

Professor.

Yes?

I'm Sgt. Anders, NATO forces,

stationed here in Bucharest.

Hello.

Could I ask you a few questions about

a painting you were to have authenticated?

Which painting is this?

A possible lost van Gogh.

The Lilies in the Field?

The painting is a fake.

It's not that I don't believe you, sir.

How can you be so sure when...

two other reputable art appraisers

think it's real.

To the trained eye...

it's obvious that the brush strokes

were not those of the master.

The painting lacks texture, nuance...

and the familiar pastichal brilliance.

- So, it's a forgery?

- Yes.

Credible attempt, but...

nonetheless...

a forgery.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Sgt. Anders.

Nothing personal, Tully.

Just business.

Oh, you cocksucker.

Your little job...

has put us all in danger.

This man would be very upset with me...

if I helped you.

Mikhail...

who do you think k*lled Bull, huh?

Who do you think?

So, so Tuliver...

we have a saying in my country:

"Don't blame the baker...

"when the butcher bakes the bread. "

What the hell does that mean?

It means you are f*cked.

So, you had no idea

what was in the package?

Have you ever done courier work?

- No.

- No.

A client pays for a package to be delivered...

we deliver.

And where was it going?

To the destination.

Destination was...

a Dr. Bostnescu, here in Bucharest.

You could be more helpful.

I am.

Do you have an armed as*ault

and robbery charge against you?

Acquitted.

And what has that got to do with anything?

Nothing really...

just being thorough.

Would hate to think of a man with counts of

armed as*ault against him would have...

any knowledge of a $65-million painting

going missing on his watch.

My cell number.

Call me if you think of anything useful.

Don't get up.

Follow her.

What did he say?

Go with God.

Sister fucker.

Wake him.

No sleep for the wicked, Jack.

There must be something really big

in that case.

Oh, that's frightening, Tuliver.

You can read minds.

If I'm dead...

no case.

I'll be just one minute.

Make yourself at home.

Dorothy!

Do you know where Jack Tuliver is?

He's wanted for the m*rder of

a police officer.

Jack can k*ll, but he's no k*ller.

Grapini...

made this job sound so much easier...

than it turned out.

Get someone to steal the casino money.

Oops.

A $65-million painting...

disappears.

Oh, yes.

It is a painting, Jack...

and I need that painting.

You see...

it would be very bad for me...

if that painting was to show up...

and everyone realized...

it was a fake.

How would I get my insurance money then...

Jack?

How many people in this photo

will die this week?

Why did Jack go to prison?

You see the other man next to Jack?

Constantine was Bull's brother.

They were in the m*llitary with Jack.

Constantine Mercea d*ed for his country.

A m*llitary officer sent Constantine

on a suicidal mission.

And he d*ed.

Jack broke that officer's arm and leg...

then stole a helicopter...

flew into the local town to have

a drink to his friend's memory.

Eight MPs were sent to get him.

Four ended up in the hospital.

Tuliver did four years in Leavenworth

for that one night.

Jack went to jail...

and Bull came home.

How did they get into this?

I don't know.

It was that girl...

Suza.

Suza?

How was she, Tuliver?

Just another girl in another city?

What would you do for

a team member, Jack?

Are you a team player?

No!

Come on.

You don't have to do that.

Jeez.

She came to Bull to set up a job.

It was too big for Bull.

So they called in Tuliver?

I'm sorry for your loss.

Who is this?

That's Bull's other brother, Mikhail.

He owns a nightclub.

Hello, Mikhail.

Nice car.

Nice new car.

Are you an accessory that comes with it?

Funny you should say that.

Say what?

Accessory.

Jack Tuliver's accessory.

Wanna dance?

Suza.

They're going to k*ll me.

I can't do this much longer.

But if I talk, we are dead.

I'm so sorry, Jack.

It wasn't meant to be like this.

It was gonna be so easy.

We were all gonna go to the beach.

Spanky sold us down the crapper.

No...

they have him upstairs.

Jack...

just tell them.

If I do, you are dead.

You haven't heard Spanky scream for

the last 24 hours.

They are relentless.

I'dsooner die quick with a b*llet

than like this.

I can't die like this.

I can't .

No, I have not seen Jack Tuliver

for a long time.

I've seen that man before.

Recently?

He's in a picture in a house.

Standing next to Tuliver, who did four years

in Leavenworth when he d*ed.

Now...

if I was Jack...

and was in trouble with a g*ng

who busted my heist...

and every policeman in the city

thinks I sh*t a cop...

I would come here.

So, you think you know Jack pretty well?

How does that happen?

How does a good-looking police officer

like you...

give a sh*t about a dirty bank robber

like Jack Tuliver?

He's my alibi.

Have you ever met

the art dealer from whom...

Grapini gets his art?

Who?

I should make his acquaintance

if I were you.

But take my advice...

have a g*n nearby...

when you do.

He's not as friendly as me.

Give me a name.

I see.

Thank you.

Sergei.

Come on.

Embarrassing.

You see...

patience.

Okay, I'll take you to it.

You think I am stupid man, Jack?

You think a man who would

cut his own throat shaving...

could run the largest pugata

in this entire shitty country?

Cutthroat world?

Stupid man?

Hit him.

No, please. Don't , please.

Look, it's in a...

locker in the train station.

The locker has no number.

I'll take you to it.

And why you take me?

So you can try to escape?

One of my men here kills you...

I lose my case.

I hid the key.

"I hid the key"?

Funny.

I'll tell you what, Tuliver.

Tomorrow morning...

you will get the key.

And you will bring me my case.

Or the pain...

of her death...

will be so much worse...

than the death itself.

Sweet dreams, Jack.

No warrant. Nice, Kelly.

Eastern European art.

Acquisitions.

Thanks, honey.

Pretty, now.

What, you want a date?

Maybe your friend over here

might be a better choice.

You no laughing soon, funny man.

You really don't like me, do you?

No.

It's over there.

After you.

Key.

Untie my hands, I'll give it to you. Oh, yeah.

- No more games.

- Okay. All right.

It's in the top locker. Over there.

Yeah.

Don't slip.

- Goat fucker?

- Ignore him. Get the key.

Get the key.

Get the key.

I'm gonna f*cking k*ll you.

Let me hear your smart mouth now,

you m*therf*cker.

What are you gonna do, huh?

- What, you gonna b*at me with your shoes?

- No. With the g*n!

You're so f*cking clever, huh?

Learned a few bad words, huh?

Get the case,

and you can buggerfuck him until Sunday.

If it makes you happy.

You think I would do that?

I am a man.

I don't like men.

He makes you angry and you...

act like schoolgirl!

Schoolgirl? Schoolgirl?

I give you school-

I told them it was in my left pocket.

So what makes Alexsie Kutchinov

so interesting, Mikhail?

Got you.

Are you sure she helped him out?

Well, you'll save on dropping the case.

I want that little bitch taken care of.

Well, gentlemen.

Problems?

Yes.

Get her.

Never know until you try.

I was wondering what happened to you.

Anders, still got those panties on I like?

I'm wearing just a smile for you, Jack.

Still got my painting?

All of this is for a damn painting?

Well, it better not be one of them sad

clown paintings,'cause I hate those things.

Talking of sad clowns...

you're a good-looking man, Jack.

Do you know that?

Gotta go.

- What?

- Nothing.

Always a pleasure, Anders.

Gotta run. Places to go, people to k*ll.

Hi, Jack. Missed you.

What are you doing, stalking me?

- Phone sex isn't illegal in Romania.

- No...

but armed robbery is.

And if that was sex...

only one of us was satisfied.

Boy, do you need a boyfriend.

Come with me.

I'm taking applications.

You k*ll the artist...

buy his paintings and slip it in with them...

thr*aten the appraisers,

maybe even have Alexsie k*ll one.

What was his name again?

Gustav, Dr. Gustav.

That's right. Dr. Gustav.

I didn't k*ll the artist. He sh*t himself.

And I did find it in his paintings.

You better tell him the truth, you know...

when he wigs out like this, I can't -

There is no Lily in the Field.

It's a f*cking myth like Bigfoot

or the Loch Ness Monster.

The painting's a fake, isn't it?

You set this whole thing up.

So what then?

Split the insurance money with Alexsie?

So what do you do now, huh?

Talk to me.

I'm the only friend you've got.

You watch too much TV.

There's no evidence, no witnesses,

and not a brain in this room.

I want my lawyer.

Idiots.

The boys will be back soon

with my painting.

$20 million in bags downstairs.

And a dead thief.

How will your life change after that?

Little Suza?

My g*n, my phone, and the painting.

The g*n is gone.

The phone is in my pocket.

You could reach in there if you want it.

Now, you are not a straight-talking man,

so why should I believe you?

Well, I didn't lie to you.

I just didn't tell you all the facts.

You know, I have a begrudging respect

for you, Tuliver.

You get a lead, gather a team...

and pull off one

of the most daring robberies in history.

Don't ruin it by me k*lling you.

Look, do you wanna be a hero or not?

You're negotiating?

I will arrest you...

I will clear my name and I'll make lieutenant.

Then you're gonna have to phone me

in prison.

Maybe you might like

a relationship like that, I don't .

Look, I don't give two shits

about that painting.

There are people in there

who are relying on me.

They're gonna die if I don't help them.

It's not your concern. It's a police matter.

What?

Romanian police, right? Highly unlikely.

I'm getting out of this car.

Not without a b*llet

in your body, you're not.

Sgt. Anders, listen...

I get my friends...

you get the painting,

and you can keep all the money.

But if we wait for Romanian police,

it's all gonna disappear.

With a whole lot of b*ll*ts.

Lt. Anders, huh?

Sounds pretty good.

You must be betting I'm some kind of idiot.

I hate betting.

Never leave a man or woman in the field.

Old habits.

sh*t!

What am I, chopped liver?

Tuliver, going in unarmed?

Not gonna do much good

if they aim for the head.

Well, I can duck.

Firstly...

I come with you.

All right. Second?

Secondly...

don't ever make the mistake of thinking

I won't sh**t you.

Look, this ain't target practice...

these guys are serious.

They will k*ll you.

Just get us inside, Rambo.

Let me worry about the dying bit.

You should see this for yourself.

How many?

About five plus.

All right. How do we get in?

Quietly.

You wait here...

till I get inside, okay?

Don't sh**t until I do.

And...

try to aim and hit them, not me.

Don't get sh*t, Jack.

I need you breathing.

See, you do care.

Oh, sh*t!

f*ck!

Hey!

No!

I know where Jack is.

For f*ck's sake!

Jack!

Tuliver.

Thank God.

They almost got me.

I had the drop on them.

I was gonna give it to them, Spanky Foo.

Go!

f*ck.

It's okay.

Jack.

- Macking with the hos, J. T.?

- Macking the 9 mm, d*ck.

Oh, no.

- Go.

- Thanks.

Thanks, J. T. Thanks, mate.

Let's go.

You are persistent, Jack.

You brought the cavalry.

Well, you know...

you sh**t her, we sh**t you.

Who wins, Alexsie?

I may have the g*n pointed

at her pretty head...

but I can't be sure...

I can stop from pulling the trigger.

I have a problem...

you might have noticed.

Being a psychopath?

You must be Jack's other girl.

Nice job.

You have to save her, Jack.

Drop the f*cking g*n, now.

You drop the g*n...

or I blow her f*cking head off!

Now!

I mean it, Jack!

Drop it, Jack!

Now kick it over.

Kick it!

Now move back.

Back, Jack.

You see...

it is easy.

Game over, Jack.

I'm sorry.

You set me up?

Jack!

You set us all up.

All of them d*ed because of you.

You k*lled Bull.

f*cking bitch.

Well, that's your problem, Jack.

You always think for everyone else

and not for yourself.

I don't want...

a five-way split and a beach hut.

I want a two-way split.

That's a cool $25 mil, with the painting.

I just needed someone to steal it for us.

Wait, no.

But I heard you scream.

Sometimes love is painful.

Especially when you need to know

where that case is.

Costly case, that.

Just point him in the right direction

and he is twice the man you are, Jack.

All drive and passion.

No fake orgasms here.

Maybe I'll not be an art dealer anymore.

A man has to stick to what he is good at.

Now...

where is my case?

I won't ask twice, Jack.

It's in my car.

See?

That wasn't so hard now, was it?

Never let a woman in your business.

Oh, sh*t!

Mikhail.

Oh, sh*t, indeed.

This is for Bull.

Now we're even, Jack.

Anders, want a ride?

Show some appreciation...

for the man that saved you.

I have a ride.

Save somebody's life

and that's the gratitude.

No!

Now we're even.

Obviously, I'm coming with you.

Oh, no. Please, not this again.

sh*t!

Excuse me, I have just been sh*t.

That's not good.

Move!

sh*t!

- You're a lunatic.

- Probably.

You have been most uncooperative, Mikhail.

Told you, I know nothing.

Police picked you up in a house

with a dozen dead bodies.

With a b*llet hole in your own leg.

Yet you say you know nothing.

Don't bullshit me.

Maybe a little time in jail might help him to...

refresh his memory.

She's dead.

If she's dead...

why did we not find her body?

These were professionals, Captain.

Professionals don't leave

dead cops for forensic evidence.

You'll never find Anders.

Unless you drain the entire Black Sea.

Beautiful, worthless souvenir.

Ready for a swim, shitbag?

Do I look like I'm ready for a swim?

I mean, I like the lake...

but when are we gonna go to the beach?

We can't afford to be at the beach.

The beach, the beach.

There is nothing better than coming home...

after a long, hard day at work...

and sticking your feet in the hot sand...

and...

And, and, and what?

What if it's not a fake?

The painting?

It is a fake.

I mean, we could sell it back to

the insurance company.

No questions asked, $20 million.

It is...

a fake.

Excuse me, do you speak German?

- English?

- English.

Can I help you?

Yes, I'm looking for Sgt. Kelly Anders.

I can help you.

My name is Franz Gustav.

- Dr. Franz Gustav?

- Yes.

You authenticated the van Gogh?

Yes.

When I heard that Mark Van der Mer d*ed...

I panicked.

I thought I would be next.

I've never been involved

in anything like this before.

So...

it is a fake?

Oh, no.

In my opinion...

it's the real thing.

Read the newspapers today?

What newspapers?

Tuliver, you lucky bastard!

Jack.

What newspapers?

- Got to read, baby.

- You better tell-

Got to read, you gotta read more.
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