Original subtitles

[zany music]

♪ ♪

- Meep, meep. Meep meep.

Meep, meep.

- Uncle Jim, you're missing it.

- I'll be right there.

Hey, it's Jim. So what's the deal?

- Mad Raoul is fucking furious,

and someone is coming for you today.

- Come on, what the hell you mean today?

- I told you, blanquito. Mad Raoul never forgets.

And he's sending the reaper to collect.

- Is that a fucking nursery rhyme?

- It's a fucking fact.

Got word from my primo,

who's got a little cigarro shop down there.

Mad Raoul ordered a dozen fresh cigars.

That's bad news, amigo.

- What the hell do cigars got to do with anything?

- It's his victory lap. I-i-it's Mad Raoul's ritual.

Cold-blooded murder and then a pinche Cohiba.

He's sending Enrique the Blade to finish you off.

- That's his name? Enrique the Blade?

- When he's done with you,

Mad Raoul is gonna light a fat one

and curse your name goodbye.

- [sighs] When's this guy coming?

- My primo started rolling tobacco last night.

The Blade could be in Phoenix already.

- You're just telling me this now?

- Blanquito, you just fucking called me.

Now grow some eyes in the back of your fucking head

and run.

- [breathing heavily]

[sighs]

- You want some Hooks and Ladders?

- No thanks, peanut.

- Got that vein again.

- No, I don't.

How's the Roadrunner?

- He's my favorite.

He's fast and smart.

- Meep, meep.

Meep, meep.

[engine revving]

- Meep, meep!

[playful music]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- [gasps]

- Uncle Jim?

♪ ♪

Uncle Jim?

Sure you're okay?

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

[musical flourish]

[exciting rock music]

♪ ♪

- Morning.

Anything on Paris Gilford?

- Not yet, but Records is doing a full search.

- Agent Abbott's asking for you, Agent.

He said it was urgent.

- What's going on?

- Agent Abbott should tell you.

[knock at door]

- I'm sure Evelyn will be touched.

Thanks.

- What's up?

- Breen's dead.

Killed himself this morning.

They found him...

hanging in his room.

He trained me when I joined the Bureau.

They don't make arrows straighter than Breen.

- So sorry, sir.

- He loved an off-color joke, good scotch.

But, uh, till he fell apart,

he was the best of us.

Who else knows about your little visit to the sanitarium?

- Only Agent Bitsui. - Keep it that way.

Braddock hears about this,

that I knew and I didn't tell him,

you and I are both punching tickets to Montana.

- When's he back? - Tomorrow.

So you better have hard evidence

that you are deep inside Snowbird

by the time he hits this bullpen.

I can't keep protecting you.

- We got problems.

I signed in blood to ride for Mad Raoul

but stayed in town thanks to you.

Now he's sent a killer after my ass--Enrique the Blade.

And he might already be in town.

- I thought you settled that.

- I had a dirty cop to deal with.

You need to call in the cavalry, Baltimore,

and soon. - What cavalry?

- Get this guy arrested, something.

- Jim, I can't pull any strings if I'm hanging on by a thread.

- What the hell does that mean?

- I got a former agent who just killed himself

after I went to go see him.

I've got damn near every agent in the building

second-guessing every move my partner and I make.

And my ASAC is coming back to town,

and he might send me to Montana.

- What the hell's an ASAC? - My boss.

I need proof that I have access inside Saxton's organization--

proof that I need you to provide.

- So what? You can't help me until I help you?

- So help me.

- All right.

That meeting Sax had was with a bunch of Russian dudes.

- Russian?

- Yeah.

The guy was huge with a giant birthmark on his face.

- Did you get a name?

- No, but birthmark guy

mentioned someone named, uh, Xavier.

Mean anything to you? - Xavier, no.

You? - No.

- What else?

- Sax was happy about how the meeting went,

said it could have global implications.

He's got another meeting next week.

Said he's gonna need an interpreter for that one.

Wants to use some antiques importer in Flagstaff for that.

- A Russian interpreter? - Yeah, is that enough?

- What to help with Ernesto the Knife

or whatever his name is? - Enrique the fucking Blade.

- No, it's not enough. I need paperwork.

I need purchase orders, deal memos, partner contracts.

- I don't have access to that shit.

- Well, get access to it.

And for both of our sakes, do it fast.

[funky music]

♪ ♪

[engine revving]

♪ ♪

[dramatic music playing on screen]

[knock at door]

- Hey, man, how you feeling?

- Better watching Bogart.

[laughs] Man, these cops think they got him boxed,

but he ain't never going out like that.

You seen this one, yeah?

- Your pops taught me anything, it's to love Bogart.

Only one I've watched more than this one is...

- "Key motherfucking Largo." - "Key Largo."

[both laugh] - Bogie and Edward G. Robinson?

Double the gangsters, double the fun.

Hey...

I, um...

I never thanked you for what you did for me.

I-I wouldn't be watching Bogie without you.

- Just doing my job. - You always say that shit.

- [chuckles]

- But what you did was above and beyond, Jimmy.

The least I can do is buy you a drink.

How about tonight after I get back

from the Scottsdale warehouse?

- What you heading there for?

- First run after the surgery.

What do you say?

- Short list today.

Roscoe Mabry's been up my ass. Hit him first.

Then Goldie Kramer-- tell her we'll pull payments,

she can't keep her husband in line.

- Boss busy? - He's always fucking busy.

- Thanks, jackass. Just got a question for him.

- If it's about that rash on your dick,

yeah, I'd get it looked at.

No walk-ins today.

Mabry and Kramer-- hit the fucking road.

- Hey, that Rocky Marciano out there?

Reigning champ of Duncan's Layaway?

Get in here.

- [softly] You're an asshole.

- All good on the deliveries?

- Yeah, just checked on Royce, making his first post-op run.

- Yeah, doc says being out and about is good for him.

Figured I'd send him out on a pickup--

something nice and easy.

Sean's going to drive with him.

What?

What, is he crying again?

Or laughing like a hyena?

- No, he seems good. - Yeah, for now.

It's like a roller coaster with him.

You never know if he's blubbering or chuckling.

It's fucking unnerving.

- Listen, I'm already going to Paradise Valley.

If Royce is heading to Scottsdale, let me drive.

I'll keep a close eye on him.

- Make sure he stays in line?

- Cover his ass if he don't.

- My man. [chuckles]

[honkytonk music]

- ♪ We both know there's no love ♪

[music continues faintly]

- [sighs] Fucking oil everywhere.

God damn it.

- Hey! [pounding on door]

Quit hogging the john. Some of us got routes to run.

- Just wait a sec. It's occupied.

- It's okay, Hector! I'm done!

[breathes deeply]

All yours. - What are you doing?

Dyeing your hair? Washing your pantyhose?

- Fuck off. - Anytime, sweetheart.

[Tommy James' "Draggin' the Line"]

- ♪ Makin' a livin' the old, hard way ♪

♪ Takin' and givin' my day by day ♪

♪ I dig snow and rain ♪

♪ And the bright sunshine ♪

♪ ♪

- [knocks on door]

- Mr. Temple, your secretary stepped away.

You got a second? - Well, for you, of course.

[chuckles] Remind me-- what's your name, again?

I've met so many new faces. - Izzy Reyna.

- Izzy, right.

Uh, sales girl, right? No, no, uh, secretary pool.

- Long-haul trucker. - Well, no shit.

Good for you.

Love a woman who knows how to handle a stick.

So what's on your mind, Izzy?

- Mr. Temple-- - Oh, please, call me Bob.

- Bob, during your welcome speech,

y-you talked about priorities as interim union president.

- Oh, well, interim won't last.

But, yes, hours, pay, pension are bread-and-butter issues.

- Yes, and I think health and safety are, too.

There aren't safe washrooms for drivers like me.

We need women's locker rooms.

- So you want union funds to redecorate bathrooms?

- No, not redecorate.

- Oh, you want special treatment?

- I want equal treatment.

I shouldn't have to recruit a guy at every truck stop

to guard the door while I pee.

And I shouldn't have to wait at the back of the line

like most of the women drivers do to get enough driving routes

to qualify for health-care coverage.

- Sweetheart, there are only a handful

of women truckers driving local.

- 126 of us, and we pay dues just like the next guy.

- Mr. Temple, the board call's starting.

- Miss Reyna, I will be sure to add new bathrooms

to the suggestion box.

Hey, there, Bob's on.

[elevator bell dings]

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- I need a list of antique importers in Flagstaff.

- Oh, for your apartment. Groovy.

I know some great knickknack shops in town.

You don't need to go all the-- - No, shopping, unfortunately.

My apartment looks like a monastery.

I'm just following a lead.

Keep an eye out for international importers,

anyone who might speak Russian.

- Russian, wow. I'm on it.

♪ ♪

- You had to keep pushing,

sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

Now Breen's wife's a widow.

Great work.

♪ ♪

- [breathing sharply]

- You good?

- Fine.

Just--just exercising.

- In the basement, staring at Saxton's file?

- Toxicology report come back? - Not yet.

You gonna tell me what's what or just change the subject?

- Grant thinks it's my fault, what happened to Breen.

- Grant doesn't even know we went to the hospital.

And fuck Grant. - When Braddock finds out,

he's gonna kick me out the door.

- Not if we get a break in the case first.

So what's with the push-ups?

What? Not allowed to ask about your exercise routine?

- It's not about exercise. It's about stress.

My fiancé taught me.

- You're engaged? - Not anymore.

He was my college boyfriend.

It was a thing he did to blow off steam.

He said, when you feel your heart pounding

and your chest tightens,

drop to the floor and do as many push-ups as you can.

It works.

- So why'd you break up?

- 'Cause you need more than push-ups to stay together...

'cause he wanted me to be a doctor's wife,

make his life my life, wanted me to choose--

this case or him, and so I did.

I went to Quantico.

[sighs] And here I am.

Given how it's going, I might have made a big mistake.

- Hell, no. Forget about him and that asshole upstairs.

We're gonna crack this thing--I know it.

Run it again--what did Breen say before he threw the knife?

- I told you, he was not well.

He was talking about pies and riddles

and acting paranoid. - What else sticks out?

- He said, put the numbers together

and then some other crazy shit.

He was talking like a person

who should be in a mental hospital.

- Put what numbers together? - I don't know.

[dramatic music]

Actually, no.

Wait.

Follow--follow the numbers.

That's what he said.

♪ ♪

Awan?

Uh... [scoffs] Hello?

[Santana's "Oye Como Va"]

♪ ♪

- [grunting]

[door slams]

[exhales sharply, chuckles]

- Hmm.

- Enrique...

[exhales sharply]

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

- [swallows hard]

[mop clatters] - El libro.

♪ ♪

- No... [snorts]

- Look, the dates are still on the folders--March 5, 1937.

We thought these were typing errors.

There are other backdated ones, right?

- Uh, yeah, there was another one.

It's this one--

January 11, 1907.

- Maybe they go together.

Remember, Breen taught logistics and reasoning.

- He definitely talked in puzzles.

- Maybe he left something in these numbers.

- For who? - For whoever came next.

For you.

- Okay, now you're thinking like a comic-book fanatic.

- I was just thinking that,

maybe Breen is like the Riddler.

I love Frank Gorshin. [chuckles] Do you?

- I'm more of an Eartha Kitt girl.

- Hmm. - If you're right about this,

I'll buy you a cactus sandwich. - [chuckles] Nopales.

You'd like them. - Nopales, no, thank you.

[engine revving, tires squealing]

[upbeat rock music]

♪ ♪

- I know Pops asked you to ride with me.

But I don't need a babysitter.

- He didn't ask. It was my idea.

Figured this was better than a drink,

since we haven't spent time together in a while.

Wanted to check in with you, see how you're doing.

- I'm all right--healing up,

getting a lot more attention from Pops than I'm used to,

that's for sure.

- He's just showing you love.

- I just wish I felt a little more respect.

- What's that mean?

- I'm the disappointment of the family.

He even trusts Genesis more than he does me.

He thinks I'm weak. - That's not true.

- I've always been sick, never as strong as Pops wanted.

When he needed to close that job with Jacamo,

did he send me?

No, he sent Billy.

Who'd he send to deal with the Robbins boys? Sean.

Bakersfield job? You. - Okay, okay, I get it.

Trust me, I know what it's like to be compared to somebody.

- Your brother was like Bogart.

He was cool as shit.

But Joey's shadow ain't never stopped you

from getting respect.

- Still hard to live up to.

I feel that, too-- what you said about respect.

- What?

No, you don't. - Yeah, I do.

I'm just the driver.

Nobody ever looks at me as anything more than that.

Pops gives me jobs but never lets me in

on the why or how of things.

I've never even been in Scottsdale warehouse.

- When we get to the warehouse,

come in and walk the floor with me.

I'll give you a crash course,

show you how the whole thing works.

You in?

- In.

[engine revving]

♪ ♪

- No, peeking, it's a surprise.

Okay, open.

[chuckles] - Wow.

- I know how much you like cars,

so I thought you might want to have some of your own.

- It's a 1968 hot-pink Beatnik Bandit.

- David, this is too much.

- I-it's just toy cars.

Maybe we'll get in a little racing, grab some food.

- Please, please, please, please.

- Fine. [sighs]

Hey, can I, uh-- - Yeah.

- Can I talk to you?

- Yeah.

- [sighs]

What are you doing?

- I'm trying to bribe your kid.

I'm just giving you a break. You got a lot going on.

I thought this could keep Luna busy,

make things a little easier for you.

- Thank you for thinking of me.

- Thank you.

For a second, I thought you were gonna punch me.

- [chuckles] I want to punch somebody, but not you.

This fucking union president is driving me crazy.

- I know. I've worked with my share of assholes.

I had a chief of medicine who hated me.

- So what did you do? - I asked around.

I found out he was trying to pull the same crap

with other new residents,

and we realized he could brush off a complaint from one of us

but not all of us

- Dr. César Chávez.

- I wasn't gonna let that son of a bitch

get in the way of my work-- you can't either.

You organize...

they'll follow where you lead.

- It's not a substitution cipher,

and there are too many numbers

for it to be phone numbers or case files.

- Or it's nothing.

- Unless he meant it literally.

- What?

- Follow the numbers.

- What, like longitude and latitude?

- Yeah, what was the original order of the case files?

What would that be?

- Um, 35, then 37,

1775, then dash 111.

Then 07, then 7328.

- Awan...

did we just solve this?

- It's on the reservation. - So, what's the problem?

What, bad blood with the Feds?

- I can't go there.

- What? - I can't.

- [scoffs] Okay, hold on a second.

So you're saying that a young woman from Baltimore

stuck in the hot-as-fuck Arizona desert,

whose ass is on the line,

has to go to a Navajo reservation

to break a case to save said ass,

and yet her partner, who is Navajo,

who grew up on the fucking reservation,

refuses to go with her?

Is that what you're saying? - Fine, I'll go.

- Jesus, that was exhausting.

[rock music]

♪ ♪

- This is our Scottsdale warehouse,

and all 12 warehouses operate based on the same model--

special shipments handled in the service rooms,

standard packages on the main floor.

- Wow, sounds like a lot of paperwork.

- That's what she's for.

Every incoming and outgoing package, weight, box counts,

receiving dates, contracts--

every warehouse has a data-entry clerk that keeps--

- Royce!

Ready when you are. - Thanks, Louie.

Be right there.

You are not gonna believe what I'm here to pick up.

Wait here.

[intriguing music]

♪ ♪

- Hey, don't overpack the crates, man.

We got to keep our trucks incognito at weigh stations.

Can't have no hero rent-a-cop fucks

getting nosy and searching.

We don't want another fucking El Paso.

- That wasn't on me.

I double-fucking-checked those crates.

♪ ♪

- Are you with management?

- Do I look like I'm with management?

- I only ask because Rae was fired

for typing under 60 words a minute.

- Fire you? Not a chance.

I was just gonna ask

where a lovely thing like you learned to type so fast.

- [laughs] I used to work for my daddy.

He's a dentist.

- Really? - Mm.

- Let me see those pearlies.

Come on.

I'll be damned--you type as good as your teeth.

What are you working on here? - Just some shipping manifests.

I type them into the forms to keep them neat.

- What do you do with the old ones?

- Oh, you know, they just get thrown out

in the trash over there, and then they get incinerated.

- No, kidding.

Why don't I save you a trip, throw these away for you?

- Thank you.

[engine revs, horn honks]

- Holy shit.

What the hell is this car?

- It's Howard Hughes's car.

- What the fuck are you doing in Howard Hughes's car?

- He's doing some business with Pops.

- Hughes? What kind of business?

- Fuck if I know.

This is what I mean, no respect.

All I know is this fine-ass piece of machinery

is part of the deal.

Let's see what this baby can do.

[War's "Slippin' into Darkness"]

[singers vocalizing]

- ♪ Slippin' into darkness ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Take my mind ♪

♪ Beyond the dreams ♪

- You okay?

- Yeah.

- ♪ I was slippin' into darkness ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Take my mind ♪

♪ Beyond the dreams ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Slippin' into darkness ♪

- What is that? - Antelope.

- Jesus Christ. - Tastes like pork.

- No, no question about food

should ever be answered with "antelope."

- Where's your sense of adventure?

- There's something seriously wrong with your taste buds.

So what's the story, hmm?

Why didn't you want to come out here?

♪ ♪

- It's just up ahead right there.

♪ ♪

[engine and music stop]

- All right.

- There's no way Breen meant to send us here.

- Well, maybe he left us something inside.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[thud on trunk]

♪ ♪

[vehicle approaching]

- Shit.

- What?

♪ ♪

- You two are trespassing

on sacred lands between the four mountains.

♪ ♪

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

- Shut up, Darrel.

- [laughing]

Awan, how's it hanging?

- Groovy, thanks.

- What you doing?

- Uh, investigating potential federal conspiracy.

- Man, you Feds get all the cool shit.

Last two weeks, I got assigned to figure out

who was stealing blouses from Mrs. Nez's clothesline.

You had her, right, for, uh--for science?

Yeah, I figure it's one of the Tsosie brothers

stealing her tops.

Can't prove it, though.

- You gonna introduce me?

- [sighs]

This is Darrel. - Darrel Yazzie.

I remember this guy when he used to eat crayons.

You still eat crayons? - Just on the weekends.

- [chuckles] Explains your taste buds.

I'm Agent Nina Hayes.

- All right, Black woman FBI agent--

didn't know they were doing that.

- Hmm, as a rule, they're not.

- You know, Awan wasn't always a hotshot Fed.

Does your dad know you're back?

- Can we not get into that?

- Oh. Yeah, dude, sorry.

All families are fucked up, you know.

- Trying to open the trunk.

Want to help us out?

[grunts]

- Well, I'm glad I could help you find your sand.

What are you looking for?

- Don't know.

- I miss having you around, man.

Hey, you letting your ear holes close up?

Where's your turquoise?

He always wore turquoise earrings like these,

you know, keeps you invincible.

- That shit doesn't work. It's just old stories.

- No, I'm not saying I believe in magical powers either.

But why push your luck?

- Thanks for trying to help us out, but we're good.

- [chuckles] All right, dude.

Well, good luck.

Nice to meet you, Nina. - You too, Darrel.

[dramatic music]

- Dude, go see your dad.

♪ ♪

- Ooh.

[gasps] Oh, I think I got something.

♪ ♪

All right.

♪ ♪

[Awan exhales deeply]

♪ ♪

You want me to pull over?

You could do some push-ups.

- My family's been here for generations.

My grandfather was a sheepherder

after the Long Walk, and my father was, too.

So, when I was 14, I started helping.

Problem was...

my dad's Navajo, but my mom's a white lady from Detroit.

So I've always been caught in the middle

of them and this place.

So, when I told them I was joining the Bureau,

he said that I was joining the enemy.

And he cut me off.

- I'm so sorry.

♪ ♪

- My dad thought I was just pushing it aside

to get out of here, but I think about it every day.

That's why I joined...

'cause we need someone who knows

what it means to serve and protect people like me...

even if it means some of them hate me for it.

♪ ♪

- Shortening our routes, they know--

- Thank you. - Right?

- I say that every time.

[indistinct chatter]

- They don't have to give us health care.

- Exactly.

- Does anybody know about this new asshole?

- Oh, I met--I met Bob Temple back when he was driving,

and I only remember because he grabbed my ass

in Duane's parking lot and said, "Your daddy a baker?

'Cause those are some nice buns."

[all groan] - Temple's a real winner.

- Men like him act like the rules don't count for them.

- And they're fucking right.

- I'm sick of asking guys I don't know

to block the showers for me. - Yes.

- I'm sick of not having a place to take a piss

at every goddamn weigh station.

I'm sick of having my boobs grabbed

or my ass slapped every time I want to fill up my rig.

- And having to beg for health care

from people who want to keep this thing a boys' club.

- And God forbid one of us gets sick, right?

Straight fired.

- Gracias, mi'ja.

Look, we can't keep complaining quietly

and hoping it gets better.

I'm not just gonna sit around.

Like hell is it gonna be this way when Luna's my age.

- I got a full tank of gas, and I'm ready to charge.

You just point the way.

- Yeah, we're here. So what do we do?

- Yeah.

- Well, the way I see it,

Bob Temple's doing most of the work for us.

He's a scumbag. We all know that.

But I bet we're not the only ones.

- Yeah.

- I mean, this is supposed to be a union, right?

- Fuckin' A. - Right?

all: Yeah. - So let's start uniting.

- Okay, okay.

- Rally up every driver

that motherfucker has ever pissed off.

And let's make some noise! [all shouting]

- I'm ready to start digging. - Let's do it.

- Ladies, we're going to war.

[all cheering]

- Whoo!

[Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly"]

♪ ♪

- [laughs] You're really pushing her!

- Got a lot of horses under this hood!

♪ ♪

- ♪ Darkest of night with the moon shining bright ♪

♪ There's a set going strong, lot of things going on ♪

♪ The man of the hour has an air of great power ♪

♪ The dudes have... ♪

- Slow her down! That engine's a flathead!

Exhaust ports go through the block and water jacket.

- What? - Gets hot!

- ♪ But if you lose, don't ask no questions why ♪

- Oh, shit, look out!

- Oh, shit! [horn honking]

[tires squeal]

[tires screeching]

- Holy... - Shit.

- Yeah.

- ♪ Superfly ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Superfly ♪

♪ ♪

[engine sputtering]

Come on.

- Oh, shit, I knew it.

[engine clicking]

- God damn it. Shit.

- Told you to ease up.

- What the fuck do I do?

- There's a gas station up ahead.

I'll follow you in.

- Okay.

[engine turning over, clicking]

- Oh, fuck.

[voice cutting in and out on TV]

- The playback has got to get clearer than this, right?

- Max is way better at this stuff, but he's out.

- Can you fix it?

- Do what I can.

There's a lot of heat damage.

- For whatever it's worth, my father would have thought

I was crazy for becoming a Fed, too.

I keep wondering,

if my father knew he was the reason I signed up...

[scoffs] Maybe he'd laugh at the irony.

Maybe he'd find a way to be proud of me.

But there's still time with your father.

Time for him to come around, see how proud he should be.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[engine clicking, knocking]

[car door opens]

- Ooh-whee!

Don't see too many overheating spaceships.

- Looks out of this world, but it's just a--

- Lincoln K model V12 limo.

I was driving cars before you was born.

- Can you fix it?

- Ain't met a spaceship I couldn't fix.

- Look, how much you think something like this will cost?

Like, don't fleece me now.

- There's another garage 36 miles thataway, if you want.

- Yeah, okay, whatever, man.

Just get it done.

- Gonna hit the head.

- Let's get her on the lift.

[engine revs]

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

[car door opens]

♪ ♪

[machinery whirring]

♪ ♪

[zipper opens]

[whirring continues]

♪ ♪

[urine splashing]

♪ ♪

- [shouting] How long'll this take?

- [shouting] What was that?

♪ ♪

[whirring continues]

♪ ♪

- [grunts]

Ah, come on, man.

♪ ♪

- [groans] [speaking Spanish]

- Should we?

Take a break, have a drink?

- I dig it.

[clang] - So let's see here.

- I got something you're gonna want.

[old-time rock music playing on radio]

Elvis's fucking blue-suede shoes.

Soles of the King himself.

Let me go, they're all yours.

- Ah, keep that shit, cabrón.

We all know that Little Richard

is the true King of Rock and Roll.

- Yeah, well...

it was worth a shot.

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

- We ought to.

- Yep.

♪ ♪

- Just curious--the reason Mad Raoul wants me dead,

do you think it's justified? - I have no idea.

- He only sees you as the assassin.

We have that in common.

- Yeah, what is your job?

- Wheelman.

- Ah, yes,

you will only ever be the driver.

- Bingo.

Which is all right for a while,

but, I mean, what's the future in that?

[sighs]

- Freeze right there, motherfuckers!

- Fix this shit fast, old man!

- Have you ever read Pitirim Sorokin?

- Can't say I have.

- He's a Russian sociologist.

He says that there are six types of mobility.

There's vertical, horizontal, downward, intergenerational,

intragenerational,

and upward. [machinery whirring]

We...

we want upward, to move higher up the chain.

- Does Sorokin say how you move up?

- That's the question of the fucking day, right?

- I'll tell you how-- we get noticed.

We get noticed, we get promoted.

- How do we get noticed?

- You take that car, you are fucked!

You hear me? We'll hunt you down!

- We'll be long gone.

[wrench clangs] - [shouts indistinctly]

- Hey. Whoo!

- Hell, yeah, baby! - Oh-ho-ho!

[engine turning over] - Howard fucking Hughes?

- There's only one like it.

You bring that car home,

Mad Raoul won't look at you the same again.

- And what's stopping me from killing you anyway?

- Well, nothing,

except it wouldn't be very sportsmanlike,

killing the man you just had drinks with.

[laughter]

- Jim! Fuck!

Fuck!

Where the fuck were you?

- Where the fuck's the car?

- It was two guys with a shotgun.

They went west!

They just left!

[groans]

[The Jimmy Castor Bunch's "It's Just Begun"]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Watch me now, feel the groove ♪

- Who's that other guy?

- ♪ Gonna make you move ♪

♪ ♪

[voice cutting in and out on TV]

- Can you make sense of any of this?

- Not yet.

- ♪ Here we come, on the run ♪

- [cheering]

♪ ♪

- ♪ Day or night, black or white ♪

♪ Dance and sing, you gotta do your thing ♪

♪ You gotta do your thing ♪

♪ ♪

- Let's hit the Galaxie first.

- I was just thinking that.

- ♪ Dynamite ♪

♪ We had fun, but it's just begun ♪

♪ It's just begun ♪

♪ ♪

- Little more, little more.

♪ ♪

- You think you're gonna--

♪ ♪

[tires squealing]

[engines revving]

♪ ♪

- Oh, fuck.

- ♪ It's just begun ♪

♪ It's just begun, it's just begun ♪

- One down, uno más.

[engine roaring]

Pull over, now!

- Okay, okay, okay.

[tires screeching]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Listen, listen, listen to me.

I was going for a little ride, but...

Here you are. - Run.

♪ ♪

- Things appear to be getting more--

I'm trying to deal with the case on my own.

But it--complicated than you would believe.

It's--imagine--now believe a man named Xavier is--

- Stop. [button clicks]

♪ ♪

Holy shit.

- What?

- That kid you were with

is going to have a hell of a headache.

- He'll be all right.

So what do you say? We got a deal?

- Mad Raoul does like cars.

He would dig this one.

What are you gonna do about your boss?

- I'll come up with something.

But least I get to live to fight another day.

What do you say?

We got a deal?

♪ ♪

- [sighs]

I hope I never see you again.

- The feeling's mutual.

♪ ♪

- Expose Xavier and his network.

And until then, trust no--

♪ ♪

- Fuck.

♪ ♪

- Fuck.

[funky upbeat music]

♪ ♪

[keys clacking, bell dings]

children: Bad Robot.

DOWNLOADED FROM WWW.AWAFIM.TV

For latest movies and series with subtitles Visit WWW.AWAFIM.TV Today