All language subtitles for Hitmen.2023.1080p.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.x264-AOC

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Love can
sometimes be beautiful.

Love can sometimes
be dangerous.

But true love,

well, true love is lethal.

We've been through this before.

I've made up my mind.

What happened to the sanctity
of marriage?

You made a vow.

I was a 19-year-old girl, Luke.

I'm not the same person
I was ten years ago.

I love you, Lauren.

I love you, too,

but we've grown apart.

London, baby, haha.

Where the bitches at?

All we need to do
is see a marriage counsellor.

That's all we need.

a little bit of therapy.

A marriage counsellor?

Fucking shit like that.

- When we first met, you were different.
- -Different how?

More manly,
more rugged.

Go fuck yourself.

You asked me. I told you.

You fucking feather
your eyebrows, Luke.

You manicure and pedicure,
you moisturise
three times a day.

I married a man's man.

You show me someone
who hasn't changed in ten years

and I'll show you someone
who's wasted ten fucking years.

Hello, beautiful.
Let me buy a drink.

Fuck off, mate.

Hey, listen, just having
a quiet drink with a wife.

I was just offering
to buy the lady a drink.

I didn't mean
to cause any offense.

No offense taken.

Come on, Jackie.
Let's get out of here, man.

The club's just around
the corner. Let's go.

What about you, sweetie?
Are you offended?

No.

It would take more than
a tiny-dicked American
gap year student

offering to buy me a drink
to offend me, love.

- Tiny dicked?
- Microscopic.

It's about average.

-What's so funny?
-It's just...

it's a common fact
that men always add two inches

when describing the length
of their penis.

So judging by that statistic,

and with the average length
of a man's manhood measuring

no more than 5.7 inches,

you have a three inch cock.

Or a three inch Johnson,

as you Yanks affectionately
like to call it.

Three inches?

No, no. It's a little bigger
than that.

Oh.

Ah.

Ah!

Life is a collection
of individual moments.

Moments that can alter
our lives in the blink
of an eye.

This was a moment that
would alter many lives
around the world.

Luke Loveday was
an office administrator

and his wife,
or soon to be ex-wife, Lauren

was an estate agent
at one of London's most
reputable agencies.

- Quite why this
seemingly nonviolent couple,

with no prior convictions,
turned into the savage monsters

they became that night remains
a mystery.

Was it Luke's pride
wounded by the questioning

of his masculinity
and the prospect
of losing his wife?

Or was it Lauren's newly found
growth and independence
as a woman,

no longer the young
19-year-old girl

with daddy issues needing
protecting from the world,

now a strong, powerful,
well-read and intelligent force

who would not be intimidated
by the world or anything in it?

Poor little Jackie was dead,

and a great man would seek
his resurrection or revenge.

The words "great man"

are perhaps the most
overused words of today.

It is with this overuse
I hesitate to use the phrase
to describe Michael Hero.

Michael was a great man
in its truest,

purest, most sincere form.

You can tell the measure
of a man

by how he treats someone who
he has nothing to gain from.

Well, this was a millionaire
with his own family

who adopted me
as an abandoned orphan

and raised me like
I was his own flesh and blood.

Michael lost
the love of his life,
his wife of 40 years,

Marianne Robinson.,

after a sudden and unexpected
heart attack late last fall.

Every day, come rain or shine,

Michael and I
would visit her grave
and pay our respects.

Michael Hero was born
into adverse poverty
to immigrant parents,

a destitute stray
armed with an
insatiable resilience,

who went from
an unwanted street urchin

to CEO of Liontari PLC,

one of the nation's largest
blue chip corporations.

Work hard son, and someday,

-this will all be yours.
-Oh, yeah.

Not too hard though, right dad?

The great Michael Hero,

armed with the work ethic
of a starving orphan...

-It was a joke, dad.
-...attempted to build
a dynasty,

employing his son Paris
to follow his path.

Oh, yeah.

Paris was an immediate
disappointment to Michael.

No, it's medicinal.

Dad, it's medicinal.

Paris was not blessed
with any of the same smarts

that were bestowed
upon his great father.

Michael, perhaps ruthlessly,

dismissed his son,
firing him and cutting
him off the payroll.

Come on, Paris. Time to leave.

Where are we going?

Your father doesn't think
this is working out.

You're firing me?

You're firing me.

Hey, fuck you! How about that?
Fuck you!

Yeah, alright...

Alright.

I'll see you around, big man.

Charming.

Michael hoped that having
to now face adversity

would mould him
into the man he was.

Unfortunately, the attempt
of tough love

backfired spectacularly

when Paris and a group
of his foolish friends

hatched a plan
to assassinate his father

and inherit the company
and Michael's fortune.

Hey, Major. No, chill, chill.

Just chill, Chill. Hey,
look, it's Paris.

It's just me, just a clown.

Paris had a son,
Jackie,

born from a one night stand
with a stripper named Unicorn,

also known as Catherine Gray,
out of office hours.

But Jackie was different
than his father Paris

and closer, perhaps,
although only very slightly,
to his grandfather.

I wish my dad was more
like you , grandpa.

You can't be talking like that,
Jackie.

Your father loves you very much.

In his own peculiar way.

Besides, you don't have to worry
about a thing.

I will always take care of you.

But slightly
was all Michael needed

and Michael worshiped Jackie
like the son he never had.

That ' s my boy .

Lavishing him
with cars, watches
and trips abroad.

One of those trips ending
on that tragic night in London.

I need vengeance, Danny.

Jackie's soul needs vengeance.

I am not strong enough
to let my grandson's murder
go unpunished.

The Major's been
making arrangements all week.

I placed a one million
dollar bounty

on the heads of those bastards
that killed my boy Jackie.

Danny, my son,

tomorrow,

you and the Major

will meet with
Don Salvatore Piazza
of the Piazza family.

He and I briefly
crossed paths in the 1980s.

He's an honourable
and an honest man,

but he hails from an immoral
and godless business.

A world the Major's
more frequent in than you are,

remain silent and listen to him,
assuming he knows
much more than you do.

You are to act as the eyes

in the back of the Major's head.

Do you understand?

Anything for you, Papa.

Thank you, Danny.

Yeah?

I'll let Mr Hero know
right away.

They were acquitted this morning
on the grounds of...

self-defence.

But they killed my grandson.

When a great man
is hurt,

all just and fair men suffer.

-Cheers, babe.
-Cheers.

I fucking love you, Lauren.

-Do ya?
-Yeah.

I fucking love you, too, Luke.

You whiny wanker.

What's wrong?

It's that boy.

We fucking killed him, babe.

I know and I keep thinking
about him too, but...

I mean,

what's done is done.

Regret is only going
to make us resentful.

Regret is a wasted emotion,
it can just wear you down
to a little tiny nib.

"And I wish I did this,
I wish I did that."

It's useless. I mean,
we don't have a time machine
like Back to the Future .

I fucking love that movie.

There's no point living
in the past,

No regrets,

-just lessons learned.
-Babe.

Mm-hmm?

Do you still want a divorce?

No, you silly prick.

Come here.

Coleman Rose,
known as the Major,
was Michael's head of security,

an army major
who was disillusioned
by life without order

and fell foul to the bottle
after completing
his distinguished service.

Now, you shouldn't have
any trouble ,

But that's not to say
we let our guards down,
not for a second.

Not around the Piazzas.

Michael saw his
potential

and took him under
his considerable wing.

The Piazza were one of
the country's most violent,
yet profitable crime families,

headed by Don Salvatore Piazza,

both sophisticated
and brilliant,

but ruthless and apathetic
in his business conduct.

Good evening, sirs.

I've been expecting you.

Good evening.

- Please, take a seat.
- Thank you, sir.

Can I get you two a plate?

No, thank you.

How about some wine?

I'm a teetotal, I'm afraid.

No capisco , what's teetotal?

It means I don't drink.

-Makes me reckless.
-Ah, I see.

Reckless.

That wonderful word
I'm unfortunately familiar with,

for a reckless youth

makes for a rueful old age.

And I at times

find myself rueful
of my reckless past.

I am most humbly
and sincerely sorry for Michael.

He's a great man

and does not deserve
such a tragic fortune.

No, he doesn't.

You see, Major,

Tragedy is for a man
who's intoxicated
with his own defeat.

Tragedy

is narcissistic

and a false form
of loving yourself.

Tragedy can wear
the most powerful man
to a quivering,

egotistical mess.

But the great,

for the truly great among us,

they deal with tragedy
like a virus that
must be eradicated.

The great grow stronger

and greater from tragedy.

And I consider Michael Hero,
a great man.

Italian wine,

the best.

I will send my best man.

Please send Don Hero my best.

His soul will be
slightly soothed
by the end of the week.

Thank you, sir.

Pasquale,

Put some music, a Tarantella.

Ah?

I want to dance.

Don Salvatore
Piazza's best man

happened to be one of the most
ruthless and feared assassins
in the world.

A man who took pleasure
in his profession.

A man known only as...

the Reaper.

As a gesture of respect
to Michael, as well as
an expression of gratitude,

for the contract during
a difficult financial climate,

Don Piazza ordered
the execution of Richard

for his failure to sufficiently
protect Little Jackie.

Please don't shoot.

Richard...

please keep your dignity.

- So you say you still love me.
- -Yeah.

-But are you still
in love with me?
-What's the difference?

Oi, has Piccalilli got
calories in it?

Well, you can love a cat or dog,

but you can't be in love
with a cat or dog.

Not unless
you're slipping them the sausage

and that would be bestiality,
I suppose.

-Bestiality?
-Yeah, like Animal Farm .

George Orwell. That's about
Russians and communism.

It's symbolic, babes.

You know what, those Russians
really are filthy fuckers.

My cousin's Russian.

No!

The Reaper incident
was a major embarrassment
to Don Piazza.

He made an agreement
with Michael, and like
all men of honour,

he intended to keep it.

One million dollars.

The Don placed
the contract on
the open market.

News of the one million
dollar bounty became
public knowledge

in local underworld circles,

inevitably attracting
some of London's
most dangerous assassins,

gangsters and outlaws.

Don Salvatore.

No.

It's never a bad time
for an old friend.

How can I help?

Paul Ali Rahman was
a former drug dealing addict

who converted to Islam
after being inspired by

radical fundamentalist cleric
Abu Ali.

He left London
and uprooted to Syria

to join with ISIS
in their fight
against the West.

Sorry.

Carry on.

I'm still listening.

Once ISIS fell,
Paul was rendered stateless,

a wandering Ronin
crossing illegal borders
around the world.

Armed, trained
and without any fear of death.

He would use his anonymity
to his advantage,

forging a career as a gun
for hire.

Yes.

I'm in.

Why not?

London's my manor.

Don Piazza would
often distance himself
from such situations,

using local outlaws to whom
he had no previous
association or connection,

like the methodical
and ruthless Samson Slade.

Please, don't shoot me.

That's fucking original,
you fucking nonce.

Hello?

Well, how can I help you?

Florence, Francesca
and Fabiana Ferizi

were the daughters
of deceased mob boss
Fat John Ferizi,

inheriting every ounce
of their once powerful father's
lust for blood.

Beautiful, seductive
and extremely dangerous.

Francesca's House of Fashion,
how can I help you?

Is that your car?

Yes.

-You said you had a Ferrari.
-A Ferrari as well.

Yes don't worry, we're going
to have fun either way.

Yeah.

Now get the fuck out of here.

Fuck you then.

Oh. Uh huh, Uh huh.

Hello?

Finch 'Firestarter Franklin'
was an explosives expert,

nicknamed Firestarter
for obvious reasons.

The modern day hippie
traded peace, love and harmony

for explosions,
death, and money.

Don Piazza needed to make sure

there was no further
stain of embarrassment
on his reputation.

And making sure was John Salas,

a former British
Royal Marine sniper

who served his nation proudly
on four tours of duty in Iraq

and three tours in Syria.

He went AWOL from the army
and became a mercenary for hire

to many of the world's
leading criminal organisations
and guerrilla fighters.

With the right wind trajectory
and financial incentive,

John Salas could kill a man
from over a mile away.

Don Piazza.

How may I be of service?

Valery and Justin's
story began at
a professional capacity

when Valery sought
the services of an assassin

to take out her
abusive ex-husband,
Rotund Ricky Bell.

At the risk of sounding like
a misogynist, is there a reason
for the abuse?

A reason?

Were you fucking his
best friend while he's at work?

That would be a reason.

I'm not a cheat,
thank you very much.

Despite his violence
towards you?

Till death do us part.

And you're sure you want
this particular parting
to happen?

Well, yeah.
That's why I called you.

You got the money?

Sixty thousand?

That's the going rate.

-I got some.
-Don't waste my fucking time.

-Are you married?
-What? No.

Well, you got a sister?

Or a mother?

How would you feel
if I was your mother?

Beaten daily for no more
of a reason

than my so-called husband
losing a bet at the race track.

Punched in the face
for asking him if he was okay.

Having...

cigarettes put out on my arms
because he didn't like
my new hairstyle.

I like your hairstyle.

So you gonna help me or not?

I'll happily do it myself.

I just need you to show me how.

Valery, what the fuck
are you doing here?

Who the fuck is this?

Now, Valery.

Oh, you ungrateful
fucking whore!

I'll beat the fuck out of you!

After a shaky start,

Valery warmed to the task
at hand,

and what followed was the birth
of the greatest killers
of their generation.

Justin?

Yes, my sweetheart?

Would you still love me
if I was fat?

Of course, my buttercup,

- there would be more
of you to love.

Oh, wait.

What if I was fat?

Would you still love me?

Justin,

there is nothing you can do

that will ever stop me
loving you.

High ranking crime figures,
prominent politicians

and other people in power
became their prey.

And as their reputation grew,

so did their fee.

Valery and Justin Villain
were the en vogue

hit men of choice
for high society.

I love you, Valery.

I love you, Justin.

Erm...

Justin, I got
to tell you something.

Whatever it is, the answer is
I love you.

-No, this is serious.
-So am I.

Well, what is it?

Er,

I...

I went to the doctor today,

-and I got the results back.
-Right.

The headaches.

Everything okay?

It's bad.

How bad?

It's really bad.

What did they say?

The...

The doctor says I can't keep
my promise.

I won't be able to give you
a son.

I'm so sorry.

I've got...

I've got six months,

a year...

if I'm lucky.

I'm dying Justin.

And...

the part that makes me
the most sad

is the fact that I'm never
going to see you again.

-I'm never gonna see you again.
-I love you.

-I'm never gonna see you again.
-I love you.

-I'm never gonna see you again.
-I love you.

-I'm never gonna see you again.
-I love you.

Look at me.

I love you.

-I love you, Justin.
-I love you.

-I love you, Justin.
-I love you.

It's a part of life, son.

We're all born to die.

You hold strong now.

If we're all born to die,

what's the point of being born?

What's the point?

To find your purpose in life.

Seek God, son.

He will help you find
that purpose.

Then it's up to you

to carry the burden
of that purpose.

God took away my purpose.

Stay strong, son.

May he be with you.

Exodus 21:14.

If a man come presumptuously
upon his neighbour

to slay him with guile,

thou shalt take him
from mine altar,
that he may die.

Tragedy can be
all consuming.

Tragedy is for a man
who is intoxicated
with his own defeat.

Some men, even powerful
and deadly men,

cannot overcome tragedy
and are consumed by its might.

When Justin Villain lost
his wife, Valery,
to cancer,

tragedy defeated him.

Motherfucker!

What?

How long they've been married?

Are they in love?
What am I saying,

they been married ten years,
of course they're in love.

So, in short,

he was protecting
his wife's honour.

And now you want me
to kill him and his wife?

Just so some old bastard

can live a few more years
on this hell we call Earth.

Yeah, I'm on my way to London...

And if any son of a bitch
harms a hair on Luke's
or Lauren's head,

there will be hell to pay.

Hello, Justin?

Are you still there?

Let me talk to Valery
if you are feeling unwell.

How many people
you arrested then?

Not many.

Take your fucking hat off.

Sorry, sir.

Now then, you two.

We've reviewed the CCTV footage

and it seems...

to corroborate your stories.

Obviously.

So you're not under arrest
this time, but...

I must warn you

that it seems...

that the gentleman

was a professional.

A professional...?

An assassin.

Probably revenge

for killing that Yank kid.

Thank you, officer.

Now's not the time for opinions,
is it?

No,

I'm sorry, sir.

So, you-- you're going to
protect us, right?

We can offer you
very little in terms
of protection at this time.

But,

if you do need help,

just dial nine, nine, nine,

and we'll have an emergency
response team with you
as soon as humanly possible.

- You're fucking pathetic.
- What?

We don't need their help,
we can go to my big brother.

No, no, not your brother.

So are we free to leave?

Yes.

I mean, we'll be in touch.

- Right.
- Soon.

Come on, let's go.

Thank you so much.

Do you want to fucking
lick their arses some more?

You try living with her.

Don't leave the country.

No.

Luke.

Lauren's brother Tony
was once the British
heavyweight boxing champion

who swapped his gloves for guns

when the ecstasy drug exploded
onto the British rave scene
like an atom bomb.

The time when fortunes
were made and lives were lost.

Tony invested his profits
wisely.

First, like any decent
Cockney dreams,

bought his local pub
and moved upstairs
with his wife Doreen.

Oi, Tony!

Yeah I'm talking to you.
You know I've been
waiting 10 minutes for a drink

so you can kiss that old dog
after you pulled me a drink,

alright, Mr. Landlord?

-You cheeky fucking cunt.
-Yeah, whatever.

- Once the landlord novelty wore off...
-Who's next, please?

...he hired
a manager to run the pub
and invested heavily

in London's then booming
property trade,

still reaping the rewards
today.

Tony had particular affection
for Lauren, as their father,
Jimmy

abandoned the family
and migrated to sunny Spain
with his daughter's

former babysitter, Bambi,

while Lauren was still
in her early teens.

There she is,
uglier than ever.

Oh, Tony, I missed you.

I missed you, too, darling.

-Hey Doreen.
-Hi, Tony.

Come here you.

You don't get away
without a cuddle.

-How are ya?
-I'm good, Tony.

- Fuck me.
- Yeah.

-Lukie I think you could do
with a drink.
-Yeah, right.

Let's get them in.

And you can tell me all about
these foreign bastards.

Cheers, Governor.

Cheers.

Right...

we're decided then, yeah?

you two move into the pub

-and live with us.
-Yes.

You let me protect
my little sister like only
your brother can.

Good girl.

What's that supposed to mean?

What?

Like only
your brother can?

I can look after
my own fucking wife,
I'll have you know.

Can you not be
so fucking rude Luke.

I'm just saying.

I ain't scared of no-one.

I demand respect.

R S P T. Respect.

I ain't scared of no-one, Tony.

I ain't fucking scared of you.

I...

am a man too.

Do you hear me? Huh?

Of course you are princess.

You wanna fuck with me?
You wanna fuck with me?

Wha-- oh!

Come on.

Lets get Princess to bed
before he hurts himself.

- For God's sake Luke.
- -I ain't scared of you, Tony.

I know you're not, you're
a big brave soldier, ain't you?

- I'm a man of the jungle.

Sorry, Tony. I love you.

With
a tracking device installed
on the Loveday's vehicle,

both Don Piazza
and the would be assassins

would always be one step ahead
of the unsuspecting duo.

Ballocks!

Get upstairs and pack
a suitcase! We're going
on the lamb.

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

Allahu Akbar.

Run!

You can run for now,

but you can't hide.

Fucking infidels!

I can't believe they shot
my fucking brother.

Who knows what Tony
done to them?

He was protecting us.

-They were after us,
Luke, not him.
-Don't be stupid.

Do you honestly think
that crazy hippie guy
was looking for us?

-Obviously Luke!
-And what about the Islamist?

Ok we just need to go home
and just get some supplies.

They found us at your
brother's pub, they'll
definitely find us at home

We'll just be really
really quick.

Just go and get some clothes,
get our cards

and just fucking hit the road,
forever if we have to.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah,
I'm fucking sure.

Ready?

Hi. We noticed you moved in
next door, I'm Judy.

And I'm Marcel.
We're your neighbours.
It's nice to meet you.

Erm...

Do you speak English?

Oh.

I hope he's one of the new ones.

Mm. He might be
a Syrian or a Kurd.

I hope he's Ukrainian though,
because that would be
so current.

Welcome to our country.

-Babes.
-Yeah?

Babes, he's got a gun.

It's probably part
of his religion.

Or maybe he's a freedom fighter.
Don't embarrass us, Marcel.

You're probably right. Yeah.
Did I come across too phobic?

-A little bit, yeah.
-Did I?

-Fuck! Sorry.
-Yeah.

It's ok, no, it's fine.
We'll work on it.

It's fine, don't worry about it.

Judy.

- Marcel.
- Oh, he speaks.

-He's English.
-Oh.

What the fuck do you want?

-Woah.
-Woah.

-Well--
-I should make you aware

that I suffer from
an anxiety disorder

that's triggered
by confrontational language

-Woah, woah, calm down.
-It's a misunderstanding.

-We're no danger.
-No.

-We hate Putin too.
-Completely.

Well, that's nice.

-Do you think its safe?
-The fuck am I supposed to know.

You're the one
that wanted to come here,
you fucking moody bitch.

I've just lost my brother.

Fucking dare you call me
a moody bitch.

-Sorry, Lauren.
-So you fucking should be.

Prick!

What you want me to do?

You're the man! Protect me,
it's your fucking job.

What if they've got fucking guns
like the last ones?

Go in the kitchen,
just get a knife.

You know what...
You keep banging on
about me being more manly.

You're not exactly
a domestic goddess, are you?

What?

You can't cook, you can't clean.

You drink out of a pint glass
in the pub!

-I drink out of a pint glass?
-Yes!

I'm just making a point.

What's your point? That I drink
out of a pint glass in the pub?

Shh!

What the fuck are you doing?

I'm just saying,

-You want to be more like a man?
-Yes.

You better start acting
like a proper woman.

Or its going to be me
divorcing you.

Do you hear me?

-Yeah.
-Yeah?

You're gonna divorce me,
are you?

Go on, do it.
You fucking do it, I dare you.

Is there someone else?
Is that what this is,

is there fucking someone else?
Does she drink like a lady?

A bit savage, innit?
Stabbing someone.

Oh don't be such a wimp.

I don't know if I could do it.

-Couldn't just stab anyone,
can I?
-It's not just anyone Luke.

-Just the people who
are trying to kill us.
-Still.

Plunging a knife into
another human being's flesh,

slicing open
vital organs where

guts and entrails fall out,
there's loads of blood.

You know I cant stand
the sight of blood.

Yeah, that's more me.

Right, okay, so you can't
stab somebody because
it grosses you out

but smashing their face in
with a fucking monkey wrench

That's alright, is it, yeah?

It is actually.

-So who is she then? Who is she?
-What?

Who's this fucking whore
you're banging,
you better tell me now.

We should talk about this later.

Remember?

So there is somebody else.

No.

Let me tell you Luke,
if you are fucking
cheating on me,

I swear to God I'm going
to chop off your
fucking dick, mate.

Why are you always talking
about chopping off my dick?
I've only got one.

And that's a bread knife.

What's a bread knife?

-Why don't you go first?
-Hurry the fuck up.

Aww, see?

Nothing to be scared of.

Rambo.

Luke...

Your son Paris has been
desperately trying
to contact you.

He showed up
at the front gates an hour ago

and an hour before that.

At your request,
I sent him away.

Thank you, Major.

But Michael, he...

is your son.

No need to discuss this.

As I've told you before,
Danny is my only son.

He knows about the bounty.

He wants to avenge
his son's death himself

and claim
the one million dollars.

He's broke, Michael,

and he wants to impress you.

He's on his way to London.

That weak bastard
couldn't kill a cockroach.

Just go.

Leave me in peace.

Yes, sir.

-Quick, hide.
-Hide where?

Under the fucking bed,
have I got to think
of everything?

Lauren!

Lukie!

I know you're in here.

I'll just come and find ya.

Welcome to the neighbourhood.

-Right, what do we do now?
-Shhh.

Give me that fucking wrench.

-I think I've got carpet burn.
-Shut up.

Luke, Luke. I'm here to help
you and your wife Lauren,

now get under the bed and keep
your mouths shut until I say so

-Okay?
-Okay.

There's an American guy
up there, says he wants
to help us.

-He said we should...
-I fucking heard him, Luke.

Looks like we have company.

Told you we should've
bought a dog.

Fucking cat, what's a cat going
to do?

Don't talk about Rambo
like that.

I fucking love that cat.

Sounds like a fucking massacre
out there.

What should we do?

Woah, woah, woah,
hang on...

My man bag.

Oh!

Your car's bugged.

-That's how they found you.
-Okay.

-Who the fuck are you?
-Why are you helping us?

Let's just say
I'm a disciple of love.

Now let's go.
Let's get the fuck out of here.

Alright, start the car.

This is mental.

Go, now!

Going.

Get in the fucking car.

Yeah, no, no, yeah, yeah.

Would a thank you be out
of the question?

- What's he shouting?
- I don't know. The accent
confuses me.

All sons seek
their father's approval
in one form or another,

and Paris was no different.

You ready to order, love?

Oh, no, I'm good.
I'm meeting someone.

That's a beautiful accent
you got there.
Are you American?

Yeah, I am.

I love America.

-Why, have you been?
-Nah, I've never been.

I've always watched it
on the telly, though.

Tell you what, give us a shout
when you're ready to order,
alright love?

Yeah.

Will do.

-Hey, Bobby, my guy!
-Sit the fuck down,
you're making a scene.

Shit. It's cool, man.

Yo, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
It's just...

I never bought a gun from no-one
in a restaurant before,
know what I mean?

See, it's legal at home.

Used to be legal here,
too, apparently.

With all that Dunblane shit,
right?

I mean, what a crazy fucking
bastard smoking those kids.

Are you kidding me?

I mean, I suppose gun control
is a good idea until you
consider the fact

that the states with the lowest
amount of gun crime

are the ones with the highest
amount of legal firearms.

I mean, that kind of
makes you wonder,
you know what I mean?

-It's kind of weird.
-What the fuck are you
talking about?

Erm...

Gun control.

You don't have an opinion on it?

I ain't got time
for this bullshit.
You want it or not?

Yes, yeah I want it. It's cool,
I was just, you know,
making conversation.

Oh, yo... Hey, did you get
that other thing, too?

- You know, the...
- nose candy?

Yeah. Yeah, it's in the bag.

My guy.

It's like we discussed
on the phone, 500.

Right, erm...

So there's just this
tiny little, just

it's microscopic little problem.

Have you got the money or not?

Yeah.

Yeah, erm...

Okay. So, this...

Oh Jesus Christ, is there
something wrong with you?

Nah its cool man look,
this is 473...

Four pounds, all right?

And the rest I'm just
going to have to owe you,

but I'm good for it, honestly,
I promise, all right?

I'll see you around.

All right, erm.
Yo, it was nice to meet you!

Take it easy.

Oh yeah.

Yeah.

I'm going to make you proud,
Pop.

A son will one day
follow a father's example

instead of his advice,

Michael longed and prayed
for the day Paris would follow

his immaculate example
of living life.

Unfortunately for Michael,

today was the day Paris
would choose

to follow Michael's example.

On a day Michael perhaps
wasn't at his greatest.

A Michael Hero,
driven by the devilish

sweet taste of revenge,

retribution and vengeance.

I dunno what else he thought
a golden shower was,
the soppy cunt.

Evening. We'd like a room
for the night, please.

Oh, this one's a bit formal.

You two married, are you?

Yeah. Ten years.

Ten years.

Fucking hell, rapists get less
than that don't they?

Rapists?

Well, doesn't it get boring?

I mean, variety is
the spice of life, innit?

He said we want a room.

Jealous type, are you love?

Aw she the jealous type, love.

You ain't got to be jealous,
sweetheart,

he's not my type.

I mean, I'm into big black men.

Or should I say big black men
are into me, innit?

Can't get enough of this
big booty. Yeah.

Look,

we're really tired.

We'd really love a room.

It's been a long day.

-Tired?
-Yeah.

-Really?
-Uh-huh.

I bet a young man like you
can go all night.

Oh, yeah.

When is this going to end?

- Try and get some sleep.
- How can you sleep?

I've been driving all night,
Luke, it's alright for you
as a passenger.

Is this another dig about me
not being able to drive?

Well you are forty.
You really should
be driving by now.

Everybody drives,

only some are driven.

Suppose you think
you're a fucking poet now.

Fucking nonce.

Good evening, ma'am.

Well hello sexy.

I'm looking for some
friend of mine

and I've been told they've
been staying at this hotel.

Lauren and Luke Loveday.

What, you lot swingers are you?

Yeah I'm game!

No, nothing like that.

You a leg or a breast man?

No, thank you. I'm...

-watching my weight.
-Hmm.

Who you calling?

Well Luke and Lauren Loveday.

And your name is?

I''d rather surprise them.

Well I can't let you up
without letting them know.

Hotel policy, I'm afraid.

Look, I'll only be a minute.

No.

Lauren...

Lauren...

Lauren...

Lauren...

Lauren?

Lauren?

-Lauren!
-Oh, my God,

You're the most annoying man
in the world.

I think I heard something.

Yes, we are in a hotel.
We're not the only guests here.

Sounded like a gun.

How sure are you it was a gun?

Guns are loud, right?

-Was it loud?
-Think so.

Was it loud or wasn't it?

Who the fuck is that?

How the fuck am I supposed
to know!

Does he look like an assassin?

What the fuck does an assassin
look like?

Fuck.

-What?
-He looks like an assassin.

How do you know
what an assassin looks like?

They just got that look,
haven't they? Like,

you know, like that American
love boy.

I though he was a kid!
You telling me he was
an assassin?

Obviously.

I knew we shouldn't have
ditched him.

We didn't know him from Adam.
For all we knew

he was going to kill us,
what makes you so sure
he was on our side?

Just think, think, wait.

What are we gonna do?

Where's the wrench?

-It's in my man bag.
-Jesus Christ.

-What, a man can't have a bag?
-Fucking hurry up.

Who are you?

I'm with the hotel.

May I ask you to please
move your car?

It's obstructing
our delivery truck.

-Do you believe him?
-I'm not sure.

Can you please just
open the door?

Okay. On the count
of three, we're going
to open the door, okay?

-One... two...
-Wait, wait, wait.

Three's a bit quick, isn't it?

How about...

twenty?

What's the fucking difference?

I need time to brace myself.

You, get in the fucking room,
now.

Fucking got you, bitches.

Come on.

The fuck you looking at?

You alright mate?

I've had better days.

Look, I'm really sorry
we left you earlier.

It wasn't my idea.

No, I'm sorry, too.

Sometimes, though,
the wrong decision is better
than indecision, innit?

Absolutely.

Yeah. Major, what's up?
It's Paris.

Mm-hmm. Guess where I am?

More importantly,

guess who I got

right

in front of me?

I got to tell you, Danny,
golf is a lot like life.

I've learned a lot
from this game.

It's all about the timing.

Just like life. And once
you got the timing down,

you can send this little ball

soaring through the air like
a bald eagle.

It's all about the timing,
Danny.

The timing

of life.

It's Paris. He's in London.

He has Lauren and Luke Loveday.

What are you talking about?

He has them held hostage
at a hotel in Hertfordshire.

He wants your respect, Michael.

He wants the bounty,
don't be naive, Major.

He wants to honour you
with the pleasure

of killing Jackie's
killers yourself.

And now he hasn't got the balls
to go through with it, right?

Book me a flight
to the nearest airport.

-Er, Michael.
-Yeah?

-As your friend,
-I'm listening.

and your security advisor,

I don't think that's
a good idea.

Well, as a wise woman
once told me,
when a man is wet,

he need not fear the rain.

Let's go.

Major.

Are you bringing Pop too?

Yes!

That's great.

That is fucking great news, man.

Erm... so I guess I'll see you
in what, eight hours,
something like that?

All right, cool. Cool, cool.

Hey, listen, Major, I know
we had a lot of shit
that happened between us

but I'm just telling you,
it's all going to be... Hello?

Hello?

You have to ring it louder
than that Lisa.
Look, let me show you.

Mommy. Daddy.

Who's that?
And why are they on the floor?

Is that blood?

Jesus.

It, erm...

It shouldn't be too much longer.

You guys hungry?

Anyone want a fucking pizza
or something?

Please, mate, just let us go.

Look,

we just got carried away,
that's all.

We didn't mean to kill the kid.

Yeah, well,

you did.

You killed him.

You killed my son.

Jesus Christ.

I'm so sorry, I...

I didn't know it was your son.

I barely knew him.

But, erm...

my dad, his granddad,

He really loved
that little sucker.

You let them go

and I won't kill you.

Excuse me?

You won't kill me?

This fucking guy. I'm the one
with the guns, bucko.

You're the one leaking
on the floor
like a bleeding uterus.

Oh, that's disgusting.

Okay, that was
kind of disgusting.

Anyone thirsty?

I'm thirsty.

You know,

I don't usually have
the audacity

to even drink
from hotel mini bars.

Fucking inflated prices
these pricks charge, am I right?

I don't know.

Today kind of feels like
a special occasion, though.

You know what I mean?

What with me about
to be a millionaire.

Millionaire? God.

That is such a rags
to riches story, innit?

Fucking people said
I'd never amount to nothing.

Fucking jerk offs. Am I right?

Did you mean what you said?

You still want a divorce?

No.

Don't be stupid.

Do you?

No!

What the fuck would I do
without you?

-Love you.
-Love you.

You guys serious?

You really plan
on getting divorced?

I mean, that's fucking crazy.
You two are so obviously
in love.

How long you been together?

- Ten years.
- Ten years.

-Yep.
-Nearly eleven.

- No shit.
- Yeah.

I mean, that's fucking
great, man. Seriously.

That's fucking great.

I was in love once.

My dad didn't approve.

She was a dancer.

Called The Unicorn.

I mean, that wasn't her
real name, her real name
was Catherine, but...

I liked Unicorn.

She sounds really special.

She was.

Alright...

What about you, tough guy?

Hey.

Are you married?

I was.

What, you're divorced?

-Hmm?
-No.

She died from cancer.

Oh, shit.

Shit. I'm sorry, bro.

Sorry. I... thank you.

That is so sad.

I loved her.

Still do, always will.

True love never dies.

Mm.

Fights,

arguments,

fall outs,

They never matter,

because love

sometimes hurts.

It's a turbulent
fucking road.

But life is nothing
without love.

No!

Do it, now!

Get the fuck down!

No!

Bronz commander to control,
transporting one.

Be advised. Patient recognition,
life extinct on scene.

What have I done?

What have I done?
Oh, my God.

What have I done?

Oh, my God.

To man, seeking
revenge for being wronged

comes as naturally
as breathing.

The mind fools the heart
into believing

the pain will stop
if the wrongdoers are punished.

But the pain seldom stops

for revenge is not justice.

Revenge is hate.

As another great man once said,

"An eye for an eye
and a tooth for a tooth

would lead to a world
of blind and toothless."

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