To Live And Die In L.A. Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the To Live And Die In L.A. script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the William Friedkin movie with William Petersen and Willem Dafoe.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of To Live And Die In L.A.. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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To Live And Die In L.A. Script


  

  

 

                   

I believe that in both

spirit and substance...



 

                   

...our tax system

has come to be un-American.



 

                   

Death and taxes may be inevitable,

but unjust taxes are not.



 

                   

The first American Revolution was sparked

by an unshakable conviction.;



 

                   

Taxation without representation

is tyranny.



 

                   

Two centuries later,

a second American....



 

                   

-You're pushed.

-We got a game going.



 

                   

-What kind of stakes?

-Five and ten.



 

                   

-Is the man gonna play?

-After the speech.



  

                   

Outstanding.



  

                   

Post three. I got a shake.



  

                   

Right there, fella!



  

                   

I'm ready to die!



  

                   

Nobody's gonna die.



  

                   

Look, you and I are going

to go downstairs and talk.



  

                   

Death to Israel and America,

and all the enemies of Islam!



  

                   

I understand. Look, I'm gonna

put my gun away, all right?



  

                   

We're gonna go talk.



  

                   

I am a martyr!



  

                   

I will bomb myself on you

and all the enemies of Islam!



  

                   

Let's get out of here, Jimmy.



  

                   

Go play some cards, get drunk.



  

                   

I'm getting too old for this shit.



  

                   

Get the   s ready, guys.



  

                   

Gilbert. Booze. Free for me.



  

                   

-Did you bet with me or against me?

-Against you.



  

                   

-You blew it.

-Against you.



  

                   

Okay, you guys!

It's the moment of truth here.



  

                   

-Oh, shit.

-Come on!



  

                   

I told you guys,

never bet against me.



  

                   

Come on, Petievich,

get a half a yard in here.



  

                   

To my partner, Jimmy Hart...



  

                   

...whose skill in spotting bad paper

is only exceeded by his expertise...



  

                   

-...in rigging a safety line.

-Hear, hear!



  

                   

How about a speech, boss? Speech.



  

                   

You know, I've been in

this racket    years, you guys.



  

                   

And I don't think anybody...



  

                   

...has been put in harm's way

more than I have...



  

                   

-...by this hotshot over here. But--

-Don't know how you work with him.



  

                   

Seriously speaking, if I'm

going in to bag somebody...



  

                   

...there's nobody I'd rather have

backing me up.



  

                   

All right! Hear, hear!



  

                   

Later, Alvarez. Next time

you can make a jump with me.



  

                   

-Come on. It's the same thing in your work.

-What?



  

                   

You push too hard. You take it too

personally. You'll never reach retirement.



  

                   

-I'm not interested in retirement.

-Such a hot dog. See you later.



  

                   

Hey, come here, come here.

Got something for you.



  

                   

Fucking Alvarez trying to pass

a funny    on us, huh?



  

                   

Your retirement present.



  

                   

-You trying to get rid of me?

-It was burning a hole in my truck.



  

                   

That's a beauty, Richie.



  

                   

They tell me the trout

jump all over it.



  

                   

-You gonna let me use it?

-Come and see me, you can use it.



  

                   

I'm gonna miss you, amigo.



  

                   

Yeah. Me too.



  

                   

Hey, listen, I know you got

something going tomorrow.



  

                   

-You reading my mail again?

-Masters, right? Where?



  

                   

You ain't going out there alone.



  

                   

I got three more days on the job.

I want to make the most of it.



  

                   

What's the point of the two of us

running down one lead?



  

                   

The point is that we're partners, right?



  

                   

Sure we are.

And when the bust goes down...



  

                   

...you're gonna be there with me,

like always. Okay, partner?



  

                   

Oh, yeah. Thanks.



  

                   

You give me a call

when you get back.



  

                   

-Shitbag.

-Buddy...



  

                   

...you're in the wrong place

at the wrong time.



  

                   

Come on, come on!



  

                   

-Do you know what we got?

-Nothing.



  

                   

-Anything around back?

-Check the trailer.



  

                   

Trailer's clear.



  

                   

Anything around back?



  

                   

Clear over here.



  

                   

Who is it?



  

                   

-John Vukovich.

-What do you want?



  

                   

I'd like to speak to you if I could.



  

                   

I'm sorry about Jimmy Hart.



  

                   

Jimmy was more than my partner, pal.



  

                   

He was my best friend

for seven years.



  

                   

He was the most righteous guy

I ever knew.



  

                   

He had two days to go,

and that was it.



  

                   

I can't understand why somebody would

waste him over a counterfeit beef.



  

                   

Rick Masters killed him.



  

                   

See, Jimmy got too close.



  

                   

We had a tail on him and his mule for

six months, but we couldn't make the plant.



  

                   

Jimmy went to check that warehouse

near Lancaster...



  

                   

...because he found out it was rented

under a phony name.



  

                   

But I don't know.



  

                   

For some reason he wanted

to go out there by himself.



  

                   

Now you need a partner.



  

                   

Let me tell you something, amigo.



  

                   

I'm gonna bag Masters,

and I don't give a shit how I do it.



  

                   

I hear you.



  

                   

Can I talk to you for a minute?



  

                   

You must be a mind reader.

I was just gonna call you.



  

                   

I've decided to let Vukovich

work with you.



  

                   

-Do I have a choice?

-Oh, is there someone else you'd prefer?



  

                   

You're welcome to fill out

a form   ...



  

                   

...list all the reasons

you'd rather not work with him.



   

                   

Your input would be

strictly confidential.



   

                   

Yeah. Forget it.



   

                   

What is it you wanted to

talk about?



   

                   

One-way ticket to San Francisco, Mr. Cody.

How would you like to pay?



   

                   

-In cash.

-That will be $   one-way.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

Federal agent. Excuse me. I'd like to see

the bills that man just handed you.



   

                   

You wouldn't have a pencil with an eraser

I could use, would you?



   

                   

-Sure. Here you go, sir.

-Thank you.



   

                   

U.S. Secret Service!



   

                   

Hold it, man! Where you going?



   

                   

Get out of the way!



   

                   

Excuse me, miss.



   

                   

Hey, what the hell!

You some kind of freak?



   

                   

Freeze, asshole!



   

                   

U.S. Secret Service.



   

                   

You're under arrest

for possession of counterfeit--



   

                   

-You're making a mistake!

-Get up there and shut up!



   

                   

-I'm a businessman. I'm a businessman.

-Put your hands back here!



   

                   

Stop it, asshole!

I'll blow your head off!



   

                   

U.S. Secret Service. I'm arresting this guy

for counterfeiting.



   

                   

Freeze!



   

                   

-Who are you?

-Secret Service!



   

                   

I just came in to take a leak.



   

                   

Morning. Let's go!



   

                   

Get the bag, John.



   

                   

You got balls coming here.



   

                   

How you making it?



   

                   

Like every other swinging dick

in this place makes it:



   

                   

Day by motherfucking day.



   

                   

Ulcer acting up?



   

                   

I want to know when

you're gonna get me out.



   

                   

I want you to be patient a little longer, Carl.



   

                   

I got caught carrying for you.



   

                   

Now it's my turn

for some consideration.



   

                   

You have my word, you won't do

the whole nickel.



   

                   

-What does that mean?

-Grimes is the best lawyer in the state.



   

                   

It'll either be an appeal bond

or a sentence reduction.



   

                   

And the check is in the mail and I love you

and I promise not to come in your mouth.



   

                   

I'm doing everything I can.



   

                   

Carl...



   

                   

...we gotta talk about Waxman.



   

                   

Well, what about him?



   

                   

He was your last stop before the airport.



   

                   

What are you saying?



   

                   

He said you never delivered

the package.



   

                   

What do you mean?

He says I--? He never got it?



   

                   

I counted out     grand

right there on his desk.



   

                   

I had it wrapped in $      packages

like you told me.



   

                   

He put it in a safe right behind his desk.



   

                   

He said you called, postponed delivery...



   

                   

...and the next thing he heard,

you were busted.



   

                   

He's a lying son of a bitch!



   

                   

He's probably the motherfucker

who did me.



   

                   

He ratted me to the feds.

I'll kill him when I get out.



   

                   

I'm gonna give that fucking scumbag

a serious headache.



   

                   

May God strike me dead

if I don't waste him.



   

                   

Your visit's over.



   

                   

Don't forget about me.



   

                   

I won't.

You have my word on that.



   

                   

Hell, I've done everything

humanly possible.



   

                   

At this point,

I don't see any alternative.



   

                   

Your friend Cody's

gonna have to do some time.



   

                   

Why is he being held

without bail?



   

                   

He wants to know

and I can't give him an answer.



   

                   

Suspicion of murdering

a federal agent named Jim Hart.



   

                   

You told me you could arrange

an appeal bond.



   

                   

Even if the judge granted it,

it's only a postponement.



   

                   

-I can't fucking tell--

-The guy got caught holding    grand.



   

                   

What does he expect?



   

                   

He'll have to do a little

to keep the prosecutor happy.



   

                   

How much time?



   

                   

Say, three.



   

                   

No, no. He can't do it.



   

                   

He'll cave in on me.



   

                   

What can he give them?



   

                   

Everything.



   

                   

-So, what's up?

-Can you give me anything on Masters?



   

                   

There's a guy in Pasadena.



   

                   

He's a lawyer or something.

Used to represent hippies.



   

                   

What's his name?



   

                   

-Waxman. Max Waxman.

-Waxman. What's his story?



   

                   

I think he's moving paper

for Masters.



   

                   

Good. Is there anything

I can do for you?



   

                   

My kid's coming in this weekend

from Las Vegas.



   

                   

-You got a kid?

-Yeah. His name's Christopher.



   

                   

He lives with his father

down there.



   

                   

-Five hundred okay?

-Well, I was kind of hoping--



   

                   

There's more if there's a bust.

You know the game.



   

                   

-I had a bad dream last night.

-Tell me.



   

                   

I was on-stage, and people

were burning me with cigarettes.



   

                   

Serena once told me

she writes her dreams down.



   

                   

-She keeps them in a little book.

-Who's Serena?



   

                   

What did Carl say?



   

                   

He says Max ripped us off.



   

                   

Do you believe him?



   

                   

Looks that way.



   

                   

What are we going

to do about it?



   

                   

Take care of our problem.



   

                   

Surveillance log, U.S. Treasury field office,

Los Angeles.



   

                   

Office of attorney Max Waxman...



   

                   

...corner of Walnut

and Los Robles streets.



   

                   

This is day three,

January    th,      hours...



   

                   

...reports of Agents Vukovich and Chance.



   

                   

Looks like he's got a guest.



   

                   

He must like tall women.



   

                   

What a guy.



   

                   

What is happening?



   

                   

Long time, no see.



   

                   

Heard you were on stage again.



   

                   

What does Ricky-boy think

about that?



   

                   

-Quantity?

-     grand.



   

                   

I've seen better.



   

                   

I'll give you    points

for the package.



   

                   

-Twenty points is the price.

-Where am I gonna get    points?



   

                   

Off the back of a turnip truck?

Tell Rick he can kiss my ass.



   

                   

Twenty points or I'm out of here.



   

                   

What do you hear from Cody?



   

                   

Problems.



   

                   

I know you and Rick had your doubts

about me on this Cody thing...



   

                   

...and I want to tell you

I hope that's over with.



   

                   

I am straight with Rick.

I would never fuck with Rick.



   

                   

He never talks to me

about his business.



   

                   

He told me to tell you if you like the paper,

he wants your order. Now.



   

                   

No problem. That's cool.



   

                   

I'd love to make a jump

in the rain.



   

                   

You ever do any base-jumping?



   

                   

It's great.



   

                   

I used to jump off garages

when I was a kid.



   

                   

Can I bring you something else?



   

                   

-No, thanks, Father.

-It's great.



   

                   

Listen, why don't you make a jump

with me sometime?



   

                   

-Yeah?

-Yeah, you'd love it. It's fabulous.



   

                   

Once you get over the first fear,

it's a piece of cake.



   

                   

It's the greatest feeling you'll ever have.

Float out, your balls go into your throat.



   

                   

I think I'll take a pass, partner.



   

                   

You know, I could help you...



   

                   

...if you ever get in trouble.



   

                   

-You know what I mean?

-No.



   

                   

Not here.



   

                   

I love the rain.



   

                   

Yeah. It's groovy.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

Take off your glasses.



   

                   

Come here.



   

                   

-How you doing, Max?

-Oh, Christ.



   

                   

First you rip me off,

then you set up Carl...



   

                   

-...now you want to fuck my lady.

-Man...



   

                   

...she came on to me, man.

I swear it.



   

                   

Oh, what a tragedy.



   

                   

I want my     K.



   

                   

I didn't have anything to do

with getting Cody set up.



   

                   

Do you know that your house

is under surveillance?



   

                   

You know you're living like

a fucking animal in the zoo?



   

                   

Get up!



   

                   

Open up, Max. Make good

and we'll be friends again.



   

                   

-Rick! Look out!

-Come here.



   

                   

He's looking for something. Rick!



   

                   

  th-century Cameroon.



   

                   

Yes...



   

                   

-...your taste is in your ass.

-No, Jesus, no!



   

                   

Police!



   

                   

Police officer!



   

                   

Open the door!



   

                   

Police! You inside, open the door!



   

                   

Open this door! Police!



   

                   

What's going on?



   

                   

-Get up!

-What the fuck?



   

                   

The whole caper's gone. Come on!



   

                   

Shit!



   

                   

-What's that?

-I took it out of Waxman's office.



   

                   

It's some kind of dealer's code.



   

                   

John, he's got all his delivery dates

in here.



   

                   

He's got no names,

but he's got amounts, initials.



   

                   

Look at this: ''R.M., R.M.''

Every other page.



   

                   

It's a crime scene. The book is evidence.

What if the cop remembers it's missing?



   

                   

Shit, that rookie couldn't remember what

he saw. He wasn't in there long enough.



   

                   

You shouldn't have done it.



   

                   

What are you trying to tell me, amigo?



   

                   

If you feel strongly about it,

I'll hand it over.



   

                   

That's not what I'm saying, okay?

That's not what I'm saying at all.



   

                   

Just don't put words

in my mouth, all right?



   

                   

So you won't carry your weight

if something goes down?



   

                   

We could've got shit-canned

for this little trick.



   

                   

If you expect me to take heat,

tell me before you do it.



   

                   

If I had asked,

what would you have said?



   

                   

That the cops would have let us copy

the diary after it was booked.



   

                   

I wouldn't have done it if I was

with somebody I didn't trust.



   

                   

Look, I'm no snitch.



   

                   

Hey, John, Waxman just gave us

Rick Masters on a plate.



   

                   

Who's that?



   

                   

It's me.



   

                   

Too bad about Max.



   

                   

If you'd have caught him dirty, he'd have

done anything to keep out of the joint.



   

                   

Like you?



   

                   

How much do I get for the information

I gave you on Waxman?



   

                   

No arrest, no money.



   

                   

It's my fault he's dead?



   

                   

It took me six months

to get next to him.



   

                   

I've got expenses, you know.



   

                   

Uncle Sam don't give a shit

about your expenses.



   

                   

You want bread, fuck a baker.



   

                   

Someday, some guy I set up

for you is gonna snuff me.



   

                   

It isn't too hard to figure out

who an informant is.



   

                   

You gonna stay a while?



   

                   

No. I gotta go.



   

                   

I got something for you.



   

                   

I'm here.



   

                   

A dealer from San Francisco's

coming into L.A. next week...



   

                   

...with    grand

to buy stolen diamonds.



   

                   

The stuff that was lifted

from the Bel Air Hotel.



   

                   

He's a Chinaman connected

to people in Hong Kong.



   

                   

I told you. I'm only interested

in play dough.



   

                   

I was reading about the stars.



   

                   

It talked about how the stars

are the eyes of God.



   

                   

I think it's true, don't you?



   

                   

No. I don't.



   

                   

If you had any real balls,

you'd jump off that bridge.



   

                   

The same thing happened to Max

could happen to me, you know.



   

                   

Did you hear what I said?



   

                   

Nothing's gonna happen to you.



   

                   

Can I ask you something?



   

                   

Sure.



   

                   

What would you do if I stopped

giving you information?



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

I'd just like to know.



   

                   

I'd have your parole revoked.



   

                   

You mean that?



   

                   

You'd do that?



   

                   

Man, why are you chasing me?



   

                   

Why are you running?



   

                   

Because you're chasing me, man!



   

                   

What do you want?



   

                   

U.S. Secret Service!



   

                   

-Get over there!

-Okay, okay!



   

                   

-Against the fence!

-Be cool, man.



   

                   

Hands over your head, shitbag!

Come on, come on!



   

                   

Get your hands behind your head!

Turn around!



   

                   

What the hell is this, huh?



   

                   

I swear to God, I don't know nothing

about it!



   

                   

I want to know where Masters prints!



   

                   

I'm gonna throw your ass

over the bridge!



   

                   

Talk to me or I throw your ass

over the bridge!



   

                   

I don't know!

I don't know where he prints!



   

                   

Nobody does! Nobody, I swear to God!



   

                   

He was in Terminal Island

when I met him.



   

                   

He was doing time for armed robbery.



   

                   

That was, oh,     .



   

                   

I was asked to give a talk

to the inmates...



   

                   

...look at some of their work.



   

                   

Masters had talent.

You could see that.



   

                   

I went to his studio one time, and he was

burning a couple of paintings...



   

                   

...that I thought were quite beautiful.



   

                   

Do you think you might know

where that studio was...



   

                   

...remember what it looked like?



   

                   

That was downtown

past the railroad tracks.



   

                   

There's an old warehouse...



   

                   

...and there's a Chinese character on it.



   

                   

-Come on!

-Shoot it!



   

                   

Take your shot!



   

                   

Not taking

any of that shit, man.



   

                   

-How did that last stuff go?

-Hell, man, I had it sold within a week.



   

                   

Needed more, but you changed

the phone numbers.



   

                   

-I had people begging for them   s.

-Had to lay low for a while.



   

                   

That's what I heard.



   

                   

Heard someone popped your mule

at the airport.



   

                   

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.



   

                   

He's up in Obispo, and I think he may

try to deal his way out.



   

                   

-How much of a problem would that be?

-Ain't no big thing.



   

                   

But ain't nobody

gonna work for free.



   

                   

-What would it take?

-It'll cost you     K in   s...



   

                   

...if they're as good as the last ones.



   

                   

Fifty thousand in    s. It's all I have

on hand at the moment.



   

                   

Big bills ain't popular in this

neighborhood, brother. It's gotta be   s.



   

                   

Well, I might be able to find...



   

                   

...      or so in   s

lying around somewhere.



   

                   

Can I ask you something?



   

                   

As long as you print that shit yourself...



   

                   

...what the hell do you care

if I make       or     grand?



   

                   

It'd be nothing but motherfucking paper

to you.



   

                   

All right, I'll tell you what.



   

                   

I'll take    K in   s, and I'll personally

guarantee the job.



   

                   

You still driving that piece of shit?



   

                   

-Hey, what shit they showing tonight?

-It's that galactical warrior movie.



   

                   

-I hate that space shit, man.

-It's nothing but science fiction, man.



   

                   

Hey, what's going down, Reuben?



   

                   

They're gonna move on somebody.



   

                   

-Yeah? Somebody getting whacked out?

-Yeah.



   

                   

Don't know who, huh?



   

                   

Could be anybody.



   

                   

Just keep an eye out.



   

                   

-Am I being hit, man?

-I don't know. It's someone over here.



   

                   

-Cody!

-Son of a bitch.



   

                   

You're mine, motherfucker.



   

                   

-Come here, I got something for your ass.

-It's for you!



   

                   

Come here! Get him!



   

                   

Shag his ass!



   

                   

Hold it! Lay low!



   

                   

Get off me!



   

                   

Help me!



   

                   

-How you doing?

-Hello. Room three.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

Pretty girl, Carl.



   

                   

Actress?



   

                   

-Stomach problems, huh?

-Ulcer.



   

                   

Remember me?



   

                   

Football game at the airport?



   

                   

They want me to have an operation,

but I can't stand the thought...



   

                   

...of one of those prison butchers

slicing me open.



   

                   

I'd rather drink this shit-pink cement.



   

                   

I want to get Rick Masters.



   

                   

I've taken four falls. I never ratted

anybody in my life...



   

                   

...and I've had plenty of chances,

believe me.



   

                   

Masters is your friend.

I don't blame you.



   

                   

I would never hang up a friend.

Anybody who would is a piece of shit.



   

                   

The thing is, your friend

tried to have you iced.



   

                   

That doesn't mean I'm gonna

roll over and play informer.



   

                   

If you're looking for a pigeon,

go to the park.



   

                   

Look, I'll tell you what.



   

                   

You help me, I'll get to a judge,

have your sentence reduced to a parole...



   

                   

...get you the fuck out of here.



   

                   

What would I have to do?



   

                   

-Like, exactly.

-Simple.



   

                   

Show me where you print

and testify against him in open court.



   

                   

I'd rather stay here the rest of my life

than testify in open court.



   

                   

Then you better lock your cell door

and throw away the key...



   

                   

...because I cannot take care

of you in here.



   

                   

I got all it takes, brother.



   

                   

Hello, Jeff.



   

                   

What are you doing in my crib?



   

                   

You sent two assholes to do Cody,

and they blew it.



   

                   

I paid you half. I want it back.



   

                   

Yeah, well...



   

                   

...I'm trying to get

that money back myself.



   

                   

I had to front the whole purchase

to get my people to do their thing...



   

                   

...so I ain't got any more.



   

                   

Well, then you better try and shit    grand,

because I ain't leaving without it.



   

                   

I owe you, Cody.



   

                   

Next time, there'll be no fuckup.



   

                   

What next time?



   

                   

He's in protective custody.



   

                   

Hell....



   

                   

Protective custody

don't mean shit to me.



   

                   

The man's dead.



   

                   

In a pig's ass.



   

                   

I want my paper, Jeff.



   

                   

I can't afford to have it

circulating right now.



   

                   

And I told you I don't have it.



   

                   

Get it.



   

                   

Now, look, my man...



   

                   

...I told you I don't have

what you're looking for...



   

                   

...so why don't you

make it easy on yourself...



   

                   

...and just shag your ass

out of my crib.



   

                   

Now, you be a printer.



   

                   

Go get some ink...



   

                   

...and start printing

some more of that shit.



   

                   

What's happening, fella?



   

                   

Yeah, you, asshole!



   

                   

What are you gonna do now,

motherfucker?



   

                   

Goddamn it!



   

                   

-Come on, motherfucker!

-Don't! Don't!



   

                   

You broke your contract with me,

Jeff.



   

                   

Now, I don't know

whether you're into it...



   

                   

...but you're gonna have to suck on this

until you give me back my paper.



   

                   

-How much are you gonna burn?

-All of it.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

No good to me

after they handled it.





 

                   

-What do you want?

-I got a writ I need you to sign.



 

                   

What kind of writ?



 

                   

I need the release of a prisoner

from San Luis to help me in a case.



 

                   

-Must be a big case.

-The target's a major counterfeiter...



 

                   

-...involved in the murder of a federal agent.

-I never sign such writs.



 

                   

Why are you still here?



 

                   

I spent all morning on this.



 

                   

I would appreciate it if you would be

kind enough to look at it.



 

                   

Okay. Now I've looked at it.



  

                   

Look, I gotta have this guy out.



  

                   

Didn't you come in here about a week ago

and ask me to hold him without bail?



  

                   

Yes, and I'll assume full responsibility

for getting him back.



  

                   

I don't need the headache.



  

                   

Cody is an associate of Rick Masters.



  

                   

Masters has been making a mockery out

of you, me and this whole system.



  

                   

That doesn't change the fact that he's on

a no-bail hold awaiting arraignment.



  

                   

He killed my partner, man.



  

                   

The answer is still no.



  

                   

If I was one of your cronies...



  

                   

...you'd be spread-eagle on your desk

to do this for me.



  

                   

Don't say something you'll regret later.



  

                   

Come back here!



  

                   

Let me look at it again.



  

                   

If this prisoner escapes from custody...



  

                   

...I'll make you testify in open court

about how he made a fool out of you.



  

                   

Now get the hell out of here.



  

                   

If you cross me, I will dedicate

my life to putting you back in here...



  

                   

...and I will make sure you do

all five. You got that?



  

                   

You have my promise.



  

                   

I wanna know where Masters prints

and I want you to take me there now.



  

                   

Then we're going downtown

to swear out your statement.



  

                   

-Can I ask a favor?

-What?



  

                   

My daughter's in the hospital.

She's pretty sick.



  

                   

Do you think we could stop by

Santa Fe Hospital?



  

                   

It's on the way

to where I'm taking you.



  

                   

-You're pulling my dick.

-I swear, man. Check it out.



  

                   

-What's your daughter's name?

-Rozanne Brown.



  

                   

Lincoln    - - 

to Los Angeles base, over.



  

                   

Go ahead,  - .



  

                   

Yeah. Request you phone

Santa Fe Hospital.



  

                   

Find out if they have a patient

named Rozanne Brown, please. Over.



  

                   

Roger.



  

                   

You have any kids?



  

                   

Well, I tell you, it changes

the way you look at things.



  

                   

Yeah?



  

                   

I'm not looking to screw up anymore.



  

                   

Rozanne Brown is in room    .

The elevators are over there.



  

                   

Thank you.



  

                   

You have to come up

to the room with me?



  

                   

Come here.



  

                   

-What happened to your daughter?

-She was in a park, and this little monkey--



  

                   

Rozanne Brown is a black woman.



  

                   

She's recuperating from a fall

she took from a bicycle near USC.



  

                   

She's married. Her husband is listed

as serving time...



  

                   

...for armed robbery

at San Luis Obispo Prison.



  

                   

Thanks.



  

                   

I think you ought to let us

take a look at you.



  

                   

I don't have a lot of time.

I'm in the middle of a trial.



  

                   

-What kind of trial?

-It's a dope case.



  

                   

A client got busted smuggling

   pounds of cocaine.



  

                   

I should be able to get him off.

The search warrant's weak.



  

                   

Weak?



  

                   

The color of the house is listed as brown

on the warrant...



  

                   

...when, in fact, it's beige and yellow.



  

                   

You should be ashamed

of yourself.



  

                   

I don't make any apologies

for being an attorney.



  

                   

If I didn't accept the case, somebody else

would without a doubt.



  

                   

Without a doubt.



  

                   

It's too bad about Jim Hart.



  

                   

Masters has been calling me

in the middle of the night...



  

                   

...trying to order me around

like I was one of his mules.



  

                   

The other day he even had

the balls to threaten me.



  

                   

The man's an animal.



  

                   

Frankly, being house counsel

for Rick Masters...



  

                   

...doesn't sit very well with me.



  

                   

I've had it up to here,

as a matter of fact.



  

                   

Good for you.



  

                   

How bad do you and your friend

want him?



  

                   

I don't have to explain

what would happen...



  

                   

...if there was even a hint that

I set up one of my own clients.



  

                   

Aren't you afraid

you'll wind up on his hit list?



  

                   

-It crossed my mind.

-Your name will never come up.



  

                   

-You never met Rick, have you?

-No.



  

                   

I'll set up a meeting.



  

                   

Mr. Masters?



  

                   

How you doing? Ben Jessup.



  

                   

-My associate, Dr. George Victor.

-A pleasure. How do you do?



  

                   

Cut yourself shaving,

Mr. Jessup?



  

                   

No. As a matter of fact,

I got hit by a tennis ball.



  

                   

-You're in from Palm Springs, huh?

-Yeah.



  

                   

-What's the weather like there?

-It's really nice.



  

                   

We've been up here

the last few days.



  

                   

I've got a friend in Palm Springs,

Lenny Green.



  

                   

He owns the Oasis.

Do you know him?



  

                   

I got a friend in Hollywood,

Donald Duck. You know him?



  

                   

I understand you gentlemen

do some island banking.



  

                   

-That's right.

-Where?



  

                   

Cayman Islands.



  

                   

-Good business?

-Not bad.



   

                   

What sort of banking?



   

                   

We're a Dutch Antilles company.



   

                   

We loan money to various

enterprises here in the States.



   

                   

Loans aren't secured by real estate

or anything else down there.



   

                   

Hey, Rick, you got a phone call, man.



   

                   

Which one is it?



   

                   

There's nothing in there.



   

                   

Some tennis rackets

in the trunk...



   

                   

...men's clothing with Palm Springs

store labels...



   

                   

...some business letters with return

addresses in the Cayman Islands.



   

                   

What did the letters say?



   

                   

Something about ''Please forward the stock

we discussed,'' or something like that.



   

                   

Who were the letters addressed to?



   

                   

Caribbean Banking Unlimited,

Dutch Antilles.



   

                   

Did you notice the names Jessup

or Victor on any of the letters?



   

                   

-No.

-Okay.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

What kind of paper

are we talking about?



   

                   

Hundreds and   s paper. We need

at least    different serial numbers.



   

                   

-How much?

-A million dollars.



   

                   

How you going to use it?



   

                   

What business is that of yours?



   

                   

It's always my business,

Mr. Jessup.



   

                   

Nothing will be passed up here.



   

                   

Our play involves a gentleman who wishes

to launder bonds, protect his tax position.



   

                   

My end is    percent.



   

                   

We never pay more than   . We have

limitations that we have to abide by.



   

                   

Different serial numbers are

a real pain in the ass for me.



   

                   

I gotta make different plates and wear

rubber gloves during the whole operation.



   

                   

Have you ever tried to work

with rubber gloves on?



   

                   

Fifteen percent.



   

                   

I don't negotiate.



   

                   

I might if I knew you, but I don't.



   

                   

And I don't like what I see.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

I start as soon as

I get a down payment.



   

                   

In this case, I'll take

      up front...



   

                   

-...and the rest on delivery.

-What?



   

                   

Everybody knows Rick Masters

won't go near a job without front money.



   

                   

You should also know that I've never

fucked a customer out of his front money.



   

                   

I've been coming to this gym three

or four times a week for five years.



   

                   

I'm an easy man to find.

My reputation speaks for itself.



   

                   

The fact is, that if you can't

come up with the front money...



   

                   

...you're not for real.



   

                   

No way I can get you

   K to make a buy.



   

                   

You'd hear laughter

all the way from Washington.



   

                   

Masters beats the government

out of that much in a day.



   

                   

We've got a chance for a hand-to-hand

buy which he cannot beat in court.



   

                   

You're not the first agents

to get next to Masters.



   

                   

He always asks for big front money.



   

                   

Nobody ever approves it,

and he stays on the street.



   

                   

The limit for buys is    grand.

I don't make the rules.



   

                   

Look, you could get this

approved if you wanted to.



   

                   

   . .



   

                   

-What?

-   . .



   

                   

You violated section    . .

The manual says:



   

                   

''The agents must notify

the agent in charge''...



   

                   

...that's me, ''of all

ongoing investigations.''



   

                   

You violated this section, and

I'm not gonna cover your ass.



   

                   

-Yeah, well, I'm not asking you to.

-You lost a federal prisoner!



   

                   

And I want Cody back!

Where the hell were you?



   

                   

-He wasn't with me, all right?

-Why not?



   

                   

Look, I lost him.

I'll get him back.



   

                   

Thank you, Gilbert.



   

                   

I think we should have offered

Masters the    grand.



   

                   

I think we should have offered

Masters the    grand.



   

                   

-I bet he'd have gone for it.

-Never happen, Johnny.



   

                   

Let me try something on you.



   

                   

Yeah, what?



   

                   

Ruth tells me there's a guy coming in

Thursday to buy stolen diamonds.



   

                   

He's gonna be carrying

$      cash.



   

                   

So?



   

                   

So, what do you think?



   

                   

What do I think about what?



   

                   

The guy comes in Thursday,

Union Station.



   

                   

No muss, no fuss.



   

                   

If everything doesn't look like

a piece of cake, we just walk away.



   

                   

-Jesus! You gotta be kidding.

-When you came to me, I told you...



   

                   

...that I was gonna get Masters

and I didn't give a shit how I did it.



   

                   

-So now you want to commit a robbery?

-I wouldn't call it that.



   

                   

What would you call it?



   

                   

Taking down a douche bag

who's trying to break the law.



   

                   

-If it turns to shit?

-We say, ''Fuck it,'' walk away.



   

                   

The front money is the only way

to get Masters to print.



   

                   

I don't give a shit. I won't pull a heist.

I don't care.



   

                   

-He's a fence.

-Who do you think I am?



   

                   

If he gets ripped off,

he can't call the police.



   

                   

Why don't you just blow his brains out?

That's what you want to do anyway.



   

                   

All I'm asking you to do is drive the car.



   

                   

Steal real money to buy counterfeit

money? How's that gonna look in court?



   

                   

-His word against ours.

-His lawyer is Bob Grimes.



   

                   

-It's Masters' word against ours.

-You got a couple of screws loose, pal.



   

                   

Listen, I say we go to Bateman

one more time.



   

                   

Oh, fuck Bateman. He's a pencil-neck.

He's out to save his ass.



   

                   

I think you're pushing it too fast. We can--



   

                   

It's happening Thursday.

We gotta go down in    hours.



   

                   

My father was a cop, brother's a cop.

You're ask--



   

                   

Give me a break!



   

                   

You got the wrong guy, okay?

You got the wrong guy.



   

                   

You're right I got the wrong guy, pal.

You ain't my partner.



   

                   

You ain't even my fucking friend.

Let me give you a piece of advice:



   

                   

You better get into protection...



   

                   

...because you ain't shit on

the street, you understand?



   

                   

You ain't got the nuts!



   

                   

Kiss my ass!



   

                   

Pussy motherfucker.



   

                   

How sure is this thing tomorrow?



   

                   

-You said you weren't interested.

-Well, now I am interested, okay?



   

                   

All I know is what I told you.



   

                   

He's on the number     Amtrak leaving

San Francisco  :   in the morning...



   

                   

...getting into Union Station

at  :  .



   

                   

How do you remember that?

You wrote it down or what?



   

                   

Who's the seller?



   

                   

A guy I know.



   

                   

What did this guy you know

tell you?



   

                   

That a Chinaman comes down

from San Francisco...



   

                   

...buys diamonds, gold, whatever.



   

                   

What's his name?



   

                   

Ling. Thomas Ling.



   

                   

What's your end?



   

                   

-Nothing. Just a guy I know tells me things.

-A guy you know.



   

                   

A guy you know actually gives you

the train the buyer's coming in on?



   

                   

Of course not.



   

                   

I called Amtrak

and got his reservation.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Why did you do that?



   

                   

ID and $  .  .



   

                   

You were planning on having someone

else take him down, is that right?



   

                   

Thought about it.



   

                   

-Why are you suddenly interested?

-It fits some other shit that's happening.



   

                   

-You gonna bag him?

-I might.



   

                   

How you gonna do it if he's carrying

real cash and hasn't committed a crime?



   

                   

I can do whatever I want.



   

                   

How much is in this for me?



   

                   

How much of what?



   

                   

Don't shit me.

I know what you're gonna do.



   

                   

And they're gonna think I set it up.



   

                   

-All right. I'll give you   G's.

-Not enough.



   

                   

And my promise not

to throw you back in the joint.



   

                   

Mr. Thomas Ling, please come

to passenger services.



   

                   

Passenger Thomas Ling,

arriving on Amtrak    ...



   

                   

...please come

to passenger services.



   

                   

I'm Thomas Ling.



   

                   

-You know what this is?

-What's the game?



   

                   

-It's no game. Just walk.

-Why?



   

                   

Why? Because if you don't

I'll blow your fucking heart out.



   

                   

-Where's the key?

-I don't have it.



   

                   

He doesn't have it. What a guy.



   

                   

Over the chain.



   

                   

Come on, get over the chain!



   

                   

Grab the wall. Right there.



   

                   

Hold him.



   

                   

Damn it!



   

                   

Fucker!



   

                   

Come on, man. What the fuck?



   

                   

We got people all over the fucking place!



   

                   

That's very funny.



   

                   

Look, he doesn't have the money!

Let's get the fuck out of here!



   

                   

Where is it?



   

                   

Son of a bitch, move one more muscle

and I'll blow your brains out!



   

                   

You got that? Freeze!

Get down on your fucking knees!



   

                   

Put your hands

behind your fucking head!



   

                   

Goddamn it.



   

                   

You're wearing it, ain't you?



   

                   

Get your clothes off.



   

                   

Come on, two hands!

Take your shirt off!



   

                   

Ah, that's great.



   

                   

-That's it.

-Get your pants down.



   

                   

-What?! Let's get the fuck out of here!

-Get your pants down.



   

                   

Fuck. Shit.



   

                   

-You all right?

-Oh, Christ.



   

                   

Let's get out of here. Come on.



   

                   

Let's get out of here.

Come on. Come on!



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

-You hit?

-I don't know. I don't think so.



   

                   

-Look out, for God's sake!

-Get them out of there, Johnny!



   

                   

-Move the truck!

-What are you doing? Trying to hurt--



   

                   

Shut up! Whose ever truck that is,

move it out of the way now!



   

                   

Back it up, Steve, back it up!



   

                   

Look out!



   

                   

Look out!



   

                   

-Get out of there!

-You fucking assholes!



   

                   

Go left!



   

                   

Hold on. Hold on!



   

                   

-I think we lost the mothers.

-I don't see them, man.



   

                   

I don't see them.

You fucking did it, man!



   

                   

-We made it, baby!

-We did it!



   

                   

Goddamn it, we did it!



   

                   

Oh, shit! You had me scared

out of my fucking mind, man.



   

                   

You had me scared out of my fucking--



   

                   

Sons of bitches!



   

                   

-Is it the same guy?

-It's two different guys.



   

                   

It's two Chevys!



   

                   

What the hell is going on?



   

                   

-Who the fuck are these guys?

-They're all over the place.



   

                   

Hang on. Hang on, Johnny!



   

                   

Piece of cake, huh? You son of a bitch!



   

                   

Cap one off, Johnny.

Get them off of me!



   

                   

They're all over the place.



   

                   

We're going this way.



   

                   

Get the fuck out of here!



   

                   

Fucking asshole!



   

                   

-Look out!

-Crazy fucking asshole.



   

                   

Hold it!



   

                   

Shut up!



   

                   

Get out of the way!

Get out of there!



   

                   

Oh, my God!



   

                   

Get out of the way!



   

                   

Get out of the way!



   

                   

Get out of the way!



   

                   

God, no!



   

                   

There's a minor tie-up on the north

Long Beach right near Henry Ford.



   

                   

A couple cars tangled there. Shouldn't

take too long to get this to the shoulder.



   

                   

It's a very simple affair,

no injuries involved.



   

                   

It shouldn't cost more than a few minutes

if you're heading north on the     .



   

                   

I'm Stacey Binn

for Metro Traffic Control.



   

                   

What are we gonna do?!



   

                   

We're going to an auto-parts

store and get a new window.



   

                   

If we'd have totaled it,

we'd have been screwed.



   

                   

We'd never have gotten it back

to the motor pool.



   

                   

We lucked out, Johnny!

We lucked out!



   

                   

Listen, I'll have to get back to you, okay?



   

                   

-What happened? I called you all day.

-Clockwork, baby.



   

                   

Like fucking clockwork.



   

                   

Did you hear anything?



   

                   

My friend called. He said

the Chinaman never showed up.



   

                   

He sure didn't.



   

                   

God,       bucks.



   

                   

Fuck. Quintin Dailey got    points,

they said.



   

                   

That guy's unbelievable, man. Say all you

want about Michael Jordan. Great player.



   

                   

They'll know somebody

set the Chinaman up.



   

                   

Quintin Dailey's

got a gun like a howitzer, man.



   

                   

Thirty feet. Boom, boom, boom.



   

                   

He gets hot, he's fabulous.

Fucking Orlando Woolridge--



   

                   

I'm worried. I'm worried!



   

                   

The stars are God's eyes.



   

                   

What's the matter with you?



   

                   

The last item on the agenda

is a bulletin from the FBI.



   

                   

''On January   th, FBI

Special Agent Raymond Fong...



   

                   

...of the bureau of San Francisco

field office was kidnapped and robbed...



   

                   

...of $      in government funds.



   

                   

Fong, who was acting

in an undercover capacity...



   

                   

...as part of a bureau-sponsored

sting operation...



   

                   

...was abducted and murdered

shortly after arriving at Union Station.



   

                   

The suspects are described as white males,

   to    years old...



   

                   

...one with black, the other

with brown hair.



   

                   

They eluded Fong's covering agents

and fled in a beige, late-model Chevrolet.



   

                   

Anyone having information...



   

                   

...contact the special agent

in charge, FBI, San Francisco.''



   

                   

-Is there a license on the vehicle?

-There's no plates on the vehicle.



   

                   

This is what happens when proper

covering procedures are not followed.



   

                   

We got an FBI agent killed.

You hear that?



   

                   

-What do you want me to do about it?

-It's just a matter of time before they ID us.



   

                   

-They got a good look.

-A face is shit without a name.



   

                   

They got a make on the car!



   

                   

They wouldn't have sent it out if they

had anything. They're grabbing at shit.



   

                   

Oh, Jesus. So, what are we

gonna do about the    grand?



   

                   

We'll make the buy from Masters,

just like we planned.



   

                   

Are you out of your fucking mind

or something?



   

                   

Ray. Hey, I want

a standup ashtray.



   

                   

These guys are stealing

all of my ashtrays.



   

                   

Just like we planned, amigo.



   

                   

Over here.



   

                   

Who are they?



   

                   

Who are you?



   

                   

This is Mr. Jessup...



   

                   

...whose name isn't really Jessup.



   

                   

He says he's from Palm Springs,

but doesn't have a tan.



   

                   

You're not wired, are you?



   

                   

Is this my package?



   

                   

Look okay?



   

                   

You're beautiful.



   

                   

When do I get delivery?



   

                   

How about Friday night?



   

                   

If I don't hear from you by Friday

I'm coming back to get this.



   

                   

That's understandable.



   

                   

Oh, Mr. Jessup...



   

                   

...like your work?



   

                   

Your only defense is to say

you were working undercover...



   

                   

...without the knowledge

of your supervisors.



   

                   

You were trying to get next to Masters

and things got out of hand...



   

                   

...and you intended

to return the money.



   

                   

The problem is, you'll have

to take the stand...



   

                   

...and the prosecutor

can ask you anything he wants.



   

                   

Frankly, I don't think

you can beat the case in court.



   

                   

Because I represent Masters

I can't get deeply involved in your case...



   

                   

-...if you see what I mean.

-So, what should I do?



   

                   

You beat them to the punch with

the U.S. attorney and you make a deal.



   

                   

What kind of deal?



   

                   

You offer to plead guilty and

to testify against your partner.



   

                   

The FBI's not gonna want

a lot of publicity on this.



   

                   

I suspect they'll go along

with a guilty plea.



   

                   

How much time

would I have to do?



   

                   

I could probably get you off

with seven years.



   

                   

You won't have to do seven,

of course. Probably a year and a half.



   

                   

-But you can't get involved, right?

-Not directly.



   

                   

What would it cost

for your indirect involvement?



   

                   

Fifty thousand dollars.



   

                   

I know it's a tough call...



   

                   

...but it's one you're going

to have to make rather quickly.



   

                   

I can't hand up my partner.



   

                   

I can't do it, even if I have to go

to the joint.



   

                   

Who is it?



   

                   

Who's there?



   

                   

Honey?



   

                   

Shit, you okay, Carl?



   

                   

-Guess we all screw up, huh, Carl?

-How did you find me?



   

                   

Your bimbo girlfriend's listed

in the Screen Actors directory.



   

                   

-Carl, I swear I never saw this guy!

-Sit down, Claudia, and shut up!



   

                   

You know, you're a lucky man.



   

                   

I didn't tell the judge

you played hooky on me.



   

                   

Now you're gonna help me,

aren't you, Carl?



   

                   

Come on, asshole, let's go.

Move!



   

                   

Hi. Is Chance there?



   

                   

I want to talk to Chance.



   

                   

Is this     -    ?



   

                   

This is John Vukovich. Where is he?



   

                   

There's no one here

by that name.



   

                   

Who is it?



   

                   

John Vukovich.



   

                   

John.



   

                   

Listen, I got Cody back.

I know where the plant is.



   

                   

We gotta talk. We gotta go to Bateman.

I can't live with this any longer.



   

                   

I talked to Masters. We're on tonight.



   

                   

-What are you talking about?

-We're on with Masters tonight.



   

                   

-Do you need me tonight?

-No, I don't think so.



   

                   

What time do you get off?



   

                   

-About    :  .

-Okay.



   

                   

I got a few things to do, and then

I'll drop by and pick you up at the club.



   

                   

All right?



   

                   

You look beautiful.



   

                   

I got a little surprise for you.



   

                   

You packing?



   

                   

Check and see if you got

a wire on there, brother.



   

                   

-Let's see that bag.

-You don't touch me.



   

                   

-Look, dickhead!

-Keep your hands off me.



   

                   

If you want to get up them stairs

you gotta go through me.



   

                   

You go tell your little friend

that if he thinks I'm a fed--



   

                   

It's okay, Jack.



   

                   

Well, go on up, tough guy.



   

                   

So, what's in the briefcase, doctor?



   

                   

Hey, we're the ones who fronted the   

grand and agreed to do this on your turf.



   

                   

Before you touch shit,

I want to see the funny money.



   

                   

Locker   .



   

                   

Okay?



   

                   

You're beautiful.



   

                   

-You're under arrest! Turn around!

-Right there, asshole!



   

                   

Hands on top of the locker!



   

                   

Go on, grab the top

of the fucking locker!



   

                   

That's right! You're under arrest, moron!



   

                   

Go on, cuff the ape.



   

                   

-Don't move!

-How you doing, pal? Huh?



   

                   

This is from Jimmy Hart. From the desert.

Remember this? Suck on that for a while.



   

                   

-Freeze it up, pal!

-Jesus Christ!



   

                   

Oh, God.



   

                   

Talk to me. Talk to me, man.

Talk to me.



   

                   

Talk to me!



   

                   

Oh, God.



   

                   

You can't do this to me!



   

                   

Why didn't you take the deal

Grimes offered you?



   

                   

Wouldn't roll over on your partner, huh?



   

                   

Get up.



   

                   

Get up, you son of a bitch!



   

                   

You might want these.

They're very personal.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

I can't seem to find

any of his paintings.



   

                   

He told me he did

two large portraits of you.



   

                   

They might be worth

a lot of money.



   

                   

He used to burn a lot of things.

Maybe he burned them.



   

                   

I can't understand how

you stayed with him so long.



   

                   

Why did you work for him?



   

                   

It was just business.



   

                   

-Who is it?

-John Vukovich.



   

                   

-What do you want?

-Chance was my partner.



   

                   

-I know who you are. What do you want?

-Did you know he was dead?



   

                   

-I'm busy now.

-Open it.



   

                   

You going somewhere?



   

                   

I'm leaving the city.



   

                   

Well, there's a little matter of    grand

that belongs to the federal government.



   

                   

Chance said he left it with you.

We want it back.



   

                   

Look, part of that money was mine.

I had debts, people leaning on me.



   

                   

-I got ripped off for the rest--

-You set us up, didn't you, Ruth?



   

                   

You knew that Chinaman was FBI.



   

                   

What? Are you crazy?



   

                   

Come on. Don't shine me on.



   

                   

If you're gonna start by bullshitting, we're

gonna get off to a very bad relationship.



   

                   

What are you talking about?



   

                   

You're working for me now.











  

 
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