Original subtitles

It means beauty.

- Yo. - Update, please.

Eyes on the target.

Termination estimate?

It's gonna take the time it takes if it's gonna be done right.

You are the best.

I want this one to hurt.

Yeah, because we always hurt the ones we love.

He stole my serum and my boosters,

and not the level three, the tier 1-a.

It was reserved for me to distribute to my friends and myself.

He worked for you, he stole your formula,

infected people. You're pissed and horny. I get it.

I upped the nerve toxin, so he should wriggle a little more,

foam at the mouth. All right? I got you.

Why can't people just leave life alone?

Is it greed or stupidity?

Beautiful people don't think the rules apply to them.

Don't do it.

Whatever you do, don't do it.

It's not worth it.

They're here. Don't do it.

There you are.

Fuck.

When was that retrieved?

About an hour ago.

Zuckerberg got pressured and cooperated.

When was it posted?

The day before the maid found her body.

"Don't do it."

A warning.

About what? To whom?

Don't know. Now it's progressed from international virus to murder.

So, what? She was a whistleblower? What was she doing?

Warn others tempted to join a terrorist cell to cease and desist?

Well, we don't know that it was terrorism.

But someone is trying to send a message and scare people.

Just need to find out who wanted her dead and why.

Yeah.

Grazie.

You're welcome.

- Thank you. - Yeah? What do you got?

What time?

Copy that.

What?

We're being pulled. Flying back to New York City in the morning.

No, but we're not done here.

We're just digging deeper

on the security footage of a man forcibly entering...

an assistant editor at vogue combusted in the condé nast cafeteria today.

Yeah.

What? Too much cabbage soup? It's perfect for career dieters.

Yeah.

Well, may we live in interesting times.

That we do.

What's wrong?

Too much vermouth?

What?

Coop, you...

you're a good guy,

but this needs to stay casual.

I didn't know you were seeing other people.

I mean, I'm not. It's nothing serious.

But we're not serious either.

No.

Of course not.

So why the face?

I mean, you... You screw around too.

You told me that you do.

Yeah. I do.

My, but didn't it get frosty in here suddenly?

If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were uncomfortable

with me having the same sexual appetite as you,

or any man for that matter.

This job's a pressure cooker.

You know? And me and you, we like to blow off steam.

- Yeah. - Yeah, yeah.

I don't like to hold hands.

And I certainly don't have time to take long walks on the beach.

But what I do like to do

is fuck.

Unwind.

So that I can throw myself back into this job with everything that I've got.

And I like the fact that you do that too.-

so it's all about sex for you?

I think everything that we do,

from the minute we hit puberty to the second we die,

is about sex.

We go to the gym, we work on our bodies,

we cut our hair, fix our teeth, our tits.

Torturing ourselves for some promotion.

And everything that we do is about our universal, unquenchable thirst

to all be considered attractive enough to get laid.

Right?

Yeah, I mean, I used to think that I believed in monogamy and settling down,

having a kid.

But now I'm not so sure.

I mean, the world is on fire, right?

Live, laugh and fuck.

You little nihilist, you.

You flirt all you want. I know he's not better in bed than me.

Probably not.

No one is.

I should really go pull some intel on this condé nast situation.

I'll see you in the lobby at 6:00.

Fine.

Hey, thanks.

- For what? - For being cool.

For being my best friend.

Buonasera.

Hello.

Please. Sit down. You want a drink?

Yeah, why not? Guess I can stay a few minutes.

Fuck.