Original subtitles

Business has been pretty fuckin' great so far.

- How's your cash flow? - Maybe we're too generous

with too many people, and maybe we had a bit too much fun.

I'm gonna be a little bit short for the next buy.

The only one way to learn how to do this, Jimmy, is to do it.

You're not gonna give me any money?

No, but I got a guy. Ruby Stein.

He'll lend you the money.

That's only 50 grand.

You guys are obviously

getting into a very risky business,

one that might very well get you killed

before I get repaid.

- Gimme the bag. - He wants me to sell coke

for him, so he doesn't get whacked by Castellano.

I still owe Ruby Stein a shit ton of money.

- I am fucked! - Borrow it from Sweeney!

He told me I have to do this on my own.

He takes a profit when you sell the stuff,

and then what when there's a loss?

Any idiot can see that this motherfucker

is out for himself. This is the same motherfucker

that killed Davey O'Brien.

And he wanted you to shoot me. And you know what?

I haven't heard shit about Pat

since he said he was lookin' into it.

You know, everyone around here,

they treat you like a fuckin' saint.

We both know what you really are.

Eddie Breen was the wrong mark.

Who's the right mark?

- Dukey Sullivan. - You'll bring Dukey in

to testify and not for revenge, right?

I have my failings, but I'm a professional.

Colonel Markham personally

interrogated you. Someone else should do it.

And that someone else is you?

My whole family died

at Markham's hands. Let him die at mine.

Markham, go home!

Do it!

We can't sell for John Gotti.

Do what you want. But if you don't pay me back,

I'm gonna have you both killed.

What about Sweeney? He can't ever find out

- we're doin' this. - Neither can Big Paul.

We're in the same fuckin' boat.

There's just one more thing. You gotta end him.

Do you want the fucking deal or not, Jimmy?

- We do. - No!

That was fucking amazing!

Hey, I got a lil' treat for you.

- Time's up. - Sorry, we gotta go now.

Girlies? What, hey, where ya goin'?

Fuckin' hell.

God. My prayers have been fuckin' answered.

Oh, my God.

Fuck.

What's your name?

Mr. Trouble. What's yours?

Candy.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah.

You married, Mr. Trouble?

No, but I fall in love easily.

Yeah. And right now, I wanna fuckin' propose.

Propose what?

Whatever the fuck you want.

Mm!

What've you got there?

Some seriously good shit.

You want a little toot?

Yeah, me and every customer I come across.

Oh, yeah?

What if I...

what if I front you some? As much as you want.

I like that.

Yeah? Yeah?

How much have you got?

Eight ounces.

So, baby...

Yeah?

You want me to sell this for you?

Fuck yeah. Yeah.

Well, Mr. Trouble.

You're in real trouble now.

You're under arrest.

- What the fuck? - Hey! Don't be a hero.

- Oh, shit. - Put your hands on your head!

- Come on, hands up, hands up! - What the fuck?

Motherfucker.

Fuck.

- ♪ It didn't take long ♪ - ♪ It didn't take long ♪

-♪ I didn't get far ♪ - ♪ I didn't get far ♪

♪ Before the cops were told ♪

- ♪ That I'd stolen the car ♪ - ♪ Stolen the car ♪

- ♪ There was an APB ♪ - ♪ APB ♪

- ♪ Sent out for me ♪ - ♪ Out for me ♪

♪ Ratted out by my own ♪

♪ Now I'm a public enemy ♪

♪ I'm a Catholic school kid ♪

-♪ I'm an altar boy ♪ - ♪ Altar boy ♪

♪ I was dropped on my head ♪

- ♪ Now I'm here to destroy ♪ - ♪ Here to destroy ♪

-♪ I'm a stone-cold killer ♪ - ♪ Stone-cold killer ♪

- ♪ In the CYO ♪ - ♪ CYO ♪

♪ I'm lining them up ♪

♪ And I'm laying them low ♪

♪ But honest as the day is long that's a fact ♪

♪ I'm not nearly half as bad as I act ♪

♪ See, I'm always wrong in the eyes of the law ♪

♪ Parents and priests say it's the final straw ♪

♪ But sure as the sun, it rises and sets ♪

♪ I'll do it again, it's a surefire bet ♪

Might as well have walked into Midtown North

and tossed eight ounces on the desk!

What the fuck was he doing walking into

a strip club with eight ounces, for fuck's sakes?

Well, it's a smart place to sell. You never fuckin'

- done coke in a strip club? - Shut your fuckin' mouth--

Hey how 'bout fuck you, Cliffie!

Look. Sean had the bad luck

of running into an undercover cop, all right?

It fuckin' happens. But he won't talk,

he won't flip, so there's nothing to fuckin' worry about!

Is that right, there, tough guy?

You've done time, have ya?

All it takes is one prick of an FBI agent--

just fuckin' one-- to threaten him

with 20 years in Sing Sing, then that

- fuckin' eejit Sean starts... - Fuck you.

...singing like a fuckin' blackbird!

- He'll cave. - D'ya understand me?!

- He's a fucking pussy! - Hey, you better watch

- your fuckin' mouth! - Fuck did you just call 'im?

What the fuck are you talkin' about?

What did you just call him, huh?

All right.

Hey!

Enough. Jesus fuckin' Christ,

you're giving me a fuckin' headache.

Look, what's done is done.

Sean's in custody.

Now, we gotta figure out what the fuck

we're gonna do about it.

What do you mean, what the fuck do you do?

You get him a good lawyer and bail him out!

You lean on who you have on the payroll downtown.

All right? The judges, the clerks,

whoever the fuck you usually lean on.

Yeah.

But first...

you two've been dealing a lot of coke,

you've been keeping my fuckin' name out of it.

Yeah, like you requested.

So. Where you been getting your supply?

Yeah.

It's a simple question, Jimmy. Fuckin' tell me.

Well, I mean, you kinda put me in a tight spot,

and I had to do something to pay back Ruby Stein.

So... John Gotti.

Jesus fuckin' Christ!

Fuckin' moron. Jesus.

You're fuckin' with me, right?

I hate that fucker as much as you do.

Goddamnit!

You fucked up good, this time, boy.

- All right, Eddie. Just-- - You...

- All right, hey. - ...fuckin' prick, you.

Here we are. Yeah.

We gotta get that fuckin' idiot Sean a good lawyer.

Call Victor Paulson, eh?

And I shouldn't have to fuckin' say this,

but this shit with Gotti ends now.

Understood?

Understood.

You think Sweeney and Gotti are working together.

Maybe. But I know for a fact that Sweeney

cares more about this Javits project

than anything else.

Probably shitting himself thinking this coke bust

will get back to Castellano.

Well, maybe he can lead us to our prize.

Well, let's just let him sit there a little longer.

Marinate. Get him scared shitless.

How well do you know this kid?

Since he was little.

He started off running numbers, sending messages,

stealing car radios for Sweeney,

and it's all the same shit my son Danny was doing.

But with this kid, despite his record,

he's never faced this kinda time before.

Can we flip him?

Well, if I thought it would move him,

I'd go in there and beat the balls off him but...

Officer Keenan,

are you going to be able to handle yourself,

or you want me to go in there and question him?

No, no, you're a Fed.

He knows me.

I'll do it.

And I won't lay a finger on him.

Hm. Following protocol.

Sounds like a first. Now get to it.

Oh.

You don't write, you don't call.

What is this? What're you doing here?

Take a wild guess.

When you got pinched, the Feds called Midtown North.

So...

let's just say,

I volunteered.

Thought you might talk to a familiar face.

I'm thinking there's a way

that I can help you walk out outta here

without a federal beef hangin' over you.

It was eight fuckin' ounces, Keenan!

It wasn't like I was flyin' ten tons outta Colombia.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Makes no fuckin' earthly difference.

I'm not gonna bullshit you, Sean.

Could bring 20 years, probably more.

That's a long fuckin' time.

But here's the thing.

The Feds know the coke is tied to the Gambinos.

To be honest, they don't give a shit about you.

They want the Italians. Follow me?

And this ain't about turning rat.

So get that shit outta your head.

You hate the Italians as much as I do. Fuck them.

Now, you talk to me.

Tell us what you know about the Gambinos,

and we keep our names out of it. Yeah?

So you-know-who wouldn't get... mentioned?

No. No, fuck that. I don't wanna do it.

You fuckin' listen to me.

You are lookin' at serious fuckin' time here,

and you won't do well in prison.

Nice lookin' white boy like yourself.

Those fuckin' animals will line up

to hit you in the seat whenever the fuck they please,

and there won't be nothing you can do about it

except take it!

And I don't want that for you.

Well, I...

I wanna talk to my lawyer.

Oh, use your fuckin' head!

Use your fuckin' head.

We got you dead to rights,

holdin' the fuckin' bag.

You know, with all due respect, Mr. Keenan...

why don't you go fuck yourself?

I want my lawyer.

You shoulda stuck to boostin' car stereos.

Yeah.

Thank you for coming to see me.

Yeah, what's so important?

Yeah. Maybe something, maybe nothing.

But you asked me to look into Brendan Cahill for you.

Yeah. I did.

Yeah. And then I asked some of my IRA contacts

in Belfast and Derry to look into it.

Okay, so what did they say?

Word on the street is that Cahill got out of jail

from Maze Prison only three months

after a ten-year sentence.

Yeah, he told me he bribed the guards.

Some suspect he's an informer.

What? No.

Then why would he be planning an assassination

here in New York? No, no, that's bollocks.

I just thought you should know.

I'll keep alert.

But right now,

Markham is still here in New York.

I helped you sneak out of Ireland

because British agents were lookin' for you.

Who's to say they aren't actively searching for you

- right now? - I don't care.

Markham needs to die.

And it has to happen my way.

I am so close to finishing this, Father.

I cannot walk away now.

There's not much room, I'm afraid.

It's better than living on a couch.

And you're gonna take care of the rent, right?

Yeah, of course.

Like I said, I'm taking care of everything now.

- Hm. - Right?

Are you hungry?

- I'm all right. - Drink?

What, are you reading my fuckin' mind now?

Whiskey?

Yeah.

Okay.

Sent me a fuckin' angel, huh?

Oof.

Hey. Slàinte.

So...

...what are you gonna do when my customers come over?

What do you mean?

Well, I mean, you could go over to Jimmy's,

- or hang at the 596, I guess-- - Wait, wait, wait.

What, what, what the fuck are you talkin' about?

I mean, that's over, right?

I mean, I'm here now. I'm fuckin' livin' with you.

Mickey. Come on.

Come on what?

You're my lady, right?

I'm nobody's lady. I thought you understood that.

But, but, you don't gotta do that no more.

I'mma take care of you. Angel, do you not see this?

Now, I'm selling this shit all over the city.

I got more money than I know what to fuckin' do with.

You don't gotta worry about nothing, ever.

Okay.

Okay.

No, thank you, Jimmy.

Thank you, Mr. Paulson.

Really, seriously. I appreciate it.

Hey, you can thank Mr. Sweeney.

He gave me the money for your bail.

But you're not out of the woods, not by a long shot.

Here you go, Seanie, this one's on me.

Fuck, Ray. Serious? Thank you.

Catholic Church should make you a fuckin' saint, seriously.

Yeah.

Yeah, next time the Pope sets foot in here,

I'll be sure to tell him.

Thank you, Ray.

So, how much time is he looking at?

Carrying eight ounces of coke in a public venue

is intent to distribute. That's bad.

Yeah, but he didn't actually sell nothin'.

That's gotta count for something, right?

Should you consider going to law school, don't bother.

Anyway, a jury case like this risks

the maximum, 25 years in federal.

- Jesus fuckin' Christ. - That's not fuckin' fair.

No. Which is why I'm gonna have to try

and cop a plea.

What kinda plea?

You'll admit you're guilty.

You save the court the time and expense of a trial.

Now you, you should be going to law school.

No, I'm, I'm good.

All right, but what if we say fuck that?

What if we go to trial, you know, send

a bunch of neighborhood guys down there, pack the courthouse,

maybe get to some of the jurors?

They all got fuckin' families, right?

Yeah, you wanna risk it? You be my guest.

But you just told me what you're gonna do,

so I'm gonna have to recuse myself.

- Mickey, just-- - Besides which, jury tampering

has a low risk of working

and a high risk of you going to jail,

along with your friend,

and the court simply replaces the jury.

So how much time can we get him down to

with a plea?

That's hard to say.

I think I can offer them ten years...

which, with good behavior, means you might get out in five.

Can you handle five years?

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah, fuck it, I can do... yeah, five's fine.

I can do five years.

Course you fuckin' can. Hey.

- I can do five years. - You can do five years.

- You'll be out in no time. - Easy.

Paulson's gonna go for a plea deal.

Thinks he can get Sean out in five,

if he keeps his nose clean.

How did Sean react?

Yeah, he's ready for it. He's gonna man up, do his time.

- You think so? - I know so.

What about the Feds? They offered him a deal?

Yeah, of course they fuckin' did.

Sean kept his mouth shut.

Did he now? That's a first.

He's always running his mouth to us about

some fuckin' horseshit.

I say he's a fuckin' liability.

They even brought in that cop friend of yours

to try and sweet-talk him. Sean didn't bite.

Yeah, I don't know where the fuck you've been,

but Keenan's not a friend,

he's a fuckin' traitorous bastard.

I'd bet ya my fuckin' bar tab

the Feds know the coke's coming from Gotti now.

This is a fucked-up position you put me in, Jimmy.

How? It doesn't matter what the Feds know,

what they think they know.

Sean ain't gonna crack, all right?

Let's not forget Castellano's probably got Feds

on his fuckin' pad.

He gets wind of this shit, I am fucked.

I never should've let you talk me into this

fuckin' cocaine business.

Now you look at this kid.

One minute he's all fuckin' anti-Italian,

now he's sucking wop dick for a bit of cash.

Well done, you. Well fuckin' done.

You know what? Fuck you both.

You sit here and you bitch about the coke business,

but you seem more than fuckin' happy to profit from it.

You know, you all talk about us like we're fuckin' nothing,

but we're the ones out there on the street

takin' the fuckin' hits to line your fuckin' pockets!

And the only wop dick being sucked is Castellano's,

all right, and it's not by fuckin' me!

- Hey! - All right, look.

We're all a little hot under the collar here,

all right? Let's not say shit we don't mean.

Just take a breath, let's cool the fuck off.

Fine. Fine by me. But here's the truth.

Sean's one of us, through and through,

and he ain't gonna fuckin' talk.

Period.

That Irish kid's lawyer

got the judge to set bail.

Some shyster named Paulson.

Yeah. I know him.

He's a shark in Sweeney's stable.

Who put up bond?

James C. Roarke.

No shit. Jimmy Roarke.

Yeah.

Sweeney took that kid in after his mother passed from cancer.

He's part of a group of misfits and lost souls

Sweeney collects.

Jimmy Roarke is the smartest of the bunch.

Can we flip him?

No way.

I might be able to turn him against Sweeney, though.

How?

Look, you brought me in to get Sweeney

to testify against Castellano. Fine.

But in order to do that,

you gotta weaken Sweeney and everyone around him.

Like the way you weakened Dukey Sullivan,

who's now in a coma and useless as a witness.

He had a knife, he resisted arrest.

Mm-hmm.

But I'll talk to Roarke.

Some unsolicited advice?

Go pay John Gotti a visit.

Take a lot of Feds with you.

On what grounds?

We don't have a case yet.

You're the FBI. Make somethin' up.

Shake the tree. See what falls out.

And while you're there, plant a bug.

John.

All in.

Phil, you're a lyin' piece of shit.

I can read your fuckin' face like a road map.

Go fuck yourself.

What'd I tell ya?

Sal, what the fuck?

When are we gonna eat? I'm starving over here.

You're like my fuckin' grandmother.

Get your fuckin' hands off me!

Federal agents!

Hello, Mr. Gotti.

I'm Special Agent Birdie Polk.

I have a search warrant for this property,

including all persons present.

Holy shit, fellas. Look at this,

they got a broad showing paper.

Score another one for the women's lib.

Hey, take it easy.

Hey, what the fuck? What the fuck is the matter

with you? Hey, those are expensive fucking steaks!

- Hey! - Fuck, that's good meat!

What's this all about?

We have reason to believe that you and your men

are involved in the trafficking of cocaine.

Well, it sounds like a lie to me,

but you can look all you want, you're not gonna find anything.

Then you have nothing to worry about.

Hey, sweetheart, will you do me a favor?

Yeah, what's that?

When you're searching in the can,

could you give it a scrub?

I got some dirty laundry

in the back, maybe you can help me out?

Yeah, honey, could you wash and fold?

Oh, you think that's just women's work?

When I put you two in Lewisburg,

I'll recommend you for the bathroom

and laundry duty your entire 20-year stretch.

Can you, uh, move a little faster?

Why so fuckin' pushy today?

Well, it's already over an hour.

So what? I'll take my time,

if you don't mind.

Hey, Angel, I was thinking we--

Mickey.

Who's this?

Who are you? What are you doing in my home?

I'm just leaving. I'll see you next time, Erin.

- Did you fuck her? - Excuse me?

Did you fuck her?!

Answer me or I'll blow your fucking head off!

Fuckin' cocksucker! I'll blow your--

Yes, I did!

Get off him, Mickey! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

If I see you again, I'll fucking kill you!

The fuck is wrong with you?!

What's wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?

You said you'd stop!

I never said that! I never said it!

- Fuck. - I don't get it.

I thought you loved me.

Who the fuck-- Who the fuck are you kidding?

Pretty soon you're gonna get sick of me,

or you'll end up in jail,

or worse, and what do I do then?

- That ain't gonna happen. - How the fuck do you know that?

Goddamnit, Erin. Wh-wh-what the fuck

is wrong with you?

I'm telling you that I fuckin' love you.

Yeah, well, a lot of guys tell me that.

- You know that? Where are they? - Jesus, mother of Christ.

What I gotta do to convince you?

I'll do anything. Can-can-can-can I marry you?

Look, Angel, I'm serious.

Will you marry me?

Are you taking your fuckin' pills?

Hey, Ray, how you doing?

Jimmy Roarke. Let's have a talk.

What, you gonna arrest me, Glenn?

You don't get your ass up outta that fuckin' chair,

you can be sure I will. Come on, let's go.

Fellas.

So, what is this, huh?

What, you're lookin' for a pay-off?

'Cause you ain't gettin' a fuckin' dime from me.

I just want you to listen to me.

Your friend Sean Flynn is in a lot of trouble.

He's gonna go away for a good long time.

He was set up. He didn't do shit.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Am I wearin' a fuckin' dress here?

Cut the shit. He'll cop a plea deal,

that's not what this is about.

So, what am I doin' here?

I've known Eamon Sweeney since before you were born.

And I know he thinks highly of you

'cause you're a smart kid.

And I know you trust him, and I don't blame you for that.

But I'm here to tell you

that Sweeney's a paranoid fuck,

and he doesn't give a shit about anyone.

Not even you.

And if he thinks for one second

that this deal of his with Castellano

is gonna go south behind some fuckin' coke deal...

...no one's safe.

Sean could end up with a shiv in his back at Rikers.

You okay with that? 'Cause I'm not.

And I'll tell you something else,

I think Sweeney...

had Pat Murphy killed,

for killing that cop up in Boston.

It's like a fuckin' bad magic show,

how your friends keep disappearing.

Are we done?

Yeah. Just remember what we talked about here.

Right.

Markham's engaged to speak at a Protestant

Loyalist fundraiser right here in Midtown.

We still have Semtex from our first attempt.

We'll try again. This time, I'll handle the remote.

Once again, and just like before,

his security will be tight, and the risk

of civilian casualties will be high.

You're the only reason why we failed.

We have to accept that there may be civilians

in the crowd, even Irish folk,

but we cannot waver from our mission.

But I have a better idea. We narrow the target.

Markham, and just Markham.

You say you know the name of the hotel he's staying at.

That's right. Donal and Logan tracked him there.

The Mayflower Hotel.

He was seen with security in the bar.

Is he drinking?

Is he maybe even chatting up women?

Are you proposing a honey trap?

Yeah.

I'm going to lure him to his hotel room,

and I'm going to kill him myself.

And no one else gets hurt.

Except for you.

It's too risky. What if he recognizes you?

I'll be in a disguise, and, besides, if he knew my face

or where I was, I'd already be arrested.

It's too dangerous.

I can't allow it.

Well, I can't close my eyes at night

without seeing my family lying on the floor

of my house, covered in blood.

We all want Markham dead.

She's let us down before, who's to say

- she won't do it again? - Mary!

You know me.

This time, I won't fail.

Sorry, I didn't realize how late it was.

What time is it?

It's late.

Is there any point in me asking where you were?

- No. - Hm.

Wanna talk about it?

Mm-mm.

What happened?

- Tell me. - No.

I can't.

Because you'll talk me out of it.

You know you will.

What if I could help you?

Well, you can't.

But I'm okay.

No.

You're not.

I can see you're not.

Jimmy, I'm so sorry.

What for?

'Cause I have all this hate...

buried inside of me and...

...and until I get rid of it,

I can't give myself to you fully.

I can't love you the way I want to love you.

And I want to love you more than anything in this whole world.

You know we got a problem, you know that, right?

It's under control.

I got Feds crawling up my ass over here.

That's your fault, John.

You never should've used my men.

Cut the shit. I know you gave 'em permission.

I didn't ask them to be your fuckin' errand boys.

Okay? That's on you.

The real problem is if Paul finds out,

and then we're both fucked. So tell me about this kid.

He's a good man. He'll keep quiet.

Is that right?

Yeah, John. That's right.

- I give you my word. - I also got a squad

of Federal agents that just tore up my place.

And, yet, there you sit.

So I guess they got nothing on you.

Well, if they haven't already,

they're gonna make your boy flip.

I don't think so. He'll take a plea,

he'll do his time.

Yeah, maybe the kid keeps his mouth shut

for a year or two, but what happens when he gets homesick,

or stir crazy, or starts missing vaginas and shit?

- That's when they talk. - John, how many times

I gotta fuckin' tell you, the kid is solid.

More important, all inmates blabber

about what they're doing time for.

Paul has a lot of associates inside.

And he could easily find out about us that way,

and then we'd be real fucked.

Shit.

Yeah, shit.

I like this kid.

Well, I like my guys, too.

I just like my life more. Don't you?

Fuck.

Fuckin' five years is nothing.

- No, seriously. - Yeah, right.

It's not so bad. When I got sent up,

I thought it was gonna be the fuckin' worst thing.

I got in great shape, you know,

all you're doin' is fuckin' playin' cards,

jerkin' off, boxin', jerkin' off.

Do they allow

conjugal visits in Lewisburg?

Aw, fuck, I hope so.

Nah, not really, but, you know,

you can usually kiss and slip in

a quick fingering before the guards see ya.

- Yeah, that's all right. - Well, it's either that

or you marry some soul brother named Darryl.

You know, you got options. It's your choice, really.

He's fuckin' with you. He's fuckin' with you.

I'm not fuckin' with you. I'm telling you the truth.

All right, so where's your fuckin' wedding ring?

I lost it in Darryl's ass.

Okay, look, here's the good news, okay?

You're gonna get three squares a day, powdered eggs, bologna,

like your ma would make it if she were sober.

It's not so bad, and you're gonna be out

before you know it, fuckin' jacked.

Aw, shit.

You think that deal the lawyer got me

- was a good one? - Hell, yeah.

- He's the best. The best. - Of course.

- Yeah. - Five years is nothin'.

- Nothin'. - I wanted him

to leave the country with me.

No, fuck that. My place is here with my boys.

Hey, that's fuckin' right. Hey, Seanie.

Come on. Come on. To Sean.

- To Sean. - Good man.

Being home soon. Little vacation.

- Hey, slàinte. - Slàinte, boys.

Slàinte.

Here, Sean.

Mr. Sweeney wants to see ya.

Oh, yeah? About what?

Oh, you know, the usual stuff he tells the lads

before goin' into the joint. Don't fuckin' squeal,

don't get into any trouble,

and don't get caught alone in the fuckin' shower.

- Do you know what I mean? - Yeah. All right.

Come on. Don't wanna keep the boss waiting.

- All right, I'm coming. - Yeah, all right. Drink up.

He gave me the same speech, don't worry.

It's just fuckin'... it's routine.

Come here.

- See you guys in a bit. - We'll be right here.

Absolutely. We'll be waitin'.

Bye, babe. Love you. See you in a bit.

See you later. All right.

We'll get a bottle when you get back.

Yeah, I'll see you guys when I get back, 'kay?

- What are you doin'? - I was making

the kid aware of his options. Okay?

What, are you a fuckin' life coach now?

What? No. I'm just sayin'.

You picking up anything?

Well, we got voices.

Can you hear what they're saying?

Depends.

If Gotti is talkin' in the front room,

it's clearer.

They placed a bug upstairs

while Polk was raiding his club, so...

it's comin' through the floorboards.

- Yeah, huh? - Yeah.

Let me see?

And I've got hours and hours of chatter already

if you wanna listen.

- Do you mind? - No, sure, go ahead.

Knock yourself out.

Phil, take Sal over to the Javits.

Tell Sweeney we need to have a sit-down.

I need to know we don't get tied up in this mess.

These fuckin' Micks.

If it ain't one thing, it's another.

Giving me more goddamn headaches.

The minute they get into the elevator,

we're gonna lose sight of them. I want to get you outside,

on the other side of the...

We don't wanna leave her too long without eyes on her.

Just try and make sure you can get

a line of sight to that bedroom.

I must admit she has a fine figure.

Understatement of the year.

I'm sure Markham likes anyone in a skirt.

You could put on a wig and do it yourself.

Give it a rest, Mary, okay?

So what do you think of this one?

Does this scream prostitute?

Maybe you should wear a bikini.

Mary. Could you make me a cup of tea, please?

Thank you.

He would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to resist that.

The thought of that man desiring me...

is sickening.

You're gonna be the last thing that he sees on this Earth.

Mm-hmm.

But you can't use a gun, it's gonna draw

too much attention. You'll have to use a knife.

I know. I know.

I...

I just want to say how proud I am of you.

Yeah, I...

Why the fuck did you do that?

I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.

Why?

Sarah.

The whole reason that I planned this mission,

that I came to New York to get revenge for your family,

doesn't that win me any points?

It's "Bridget" now.

Please.

Here he is.

You wanted to see me, Mr. Sweeney?

Yeah.

Here, come on. Step into my living room.

- Come on. - Okay.

- Have a seat. - Yeah.

Here, you want one?

Uh, I'm... I'm okay.

- Sure? - Yeah.

So, I hear you, uh,

got a good plea bargain, but you're gonna do some time.

Yeah. You know, they wanted me to rat, but...

you know me, Mr. Sweeney, I'm not fuckin' rattin'.

Yeah. I do know you.

I'm fuckin' proud of you, Sean.

Yeah, I appreciate that.

You know, I really do, and, uh,

you know, I just wanted to let you know,

I'm really-- I'm really sorry for this fuckup, you know?

Hey...

we all make mistakes.

I want you to know I'm gonna take care of your family

while you're on the inside.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Sweeney.

Thank you.

And when you get out, you got a job waitin' for you.

And some money,

for your time.

Aw, thank you. Thank you, Mr. Sweeney.

I-I don't know what to say. Uh...

It's the least I can do.

Thank you, Sean.

I got fuckin' paperwork, so...

Oh, yeah.

Uh, Cliffie and Eddie'll run you back.

Okay.

- Stay strong, son. - Yeah, I'll try.

Thank you.

- Come on, Sean. - Yeah.

I'll see ya, Mr. Sweeney.

Yeah.

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, I done time in Federal.

- Really, Breen? - Yeah.

- I didn't know that. - Aw, it's easy.

You're gonna be grand. All right?

- Yeah. - Yeah, they got TVs

- up in there, right? - Yeah.

They even got a fuckin' gym.

You'll come out of there like fuckin' Jack LaLanne.

I'll be fuckin' stoked.

More like fuckin' Jack Dempsey, hey?

- Go on, ya cunt. - Whoa, whoa, whoa.

I'll give you something to remember me by, huh?

Five years, huh?

Yeah, it's not that bad.

Hey, how about a couple a beers for the road?

Yeah, let's go to the 596, let's get a couple of pints.

I got a few cans in the trunk there, Sean.

- Do you want one? - Hell, yeah.

Might as well drink 'em while you can, right boys? Fuck.

That's a fuckin' shame, innit?

Yeah.

Right.

Let's chop him up.

You look exhausted.

Ugh.

Listening to those goddamn wire taps all night.

And?

I think I have something.

We have Gotti and Sweeney planning a murder.

They say so explicitly?

No, of course not.

Those guys always talk in circles.

So it won't hold up in court.

No, but it could be useful.

I'm gonna need a copy.

- Of the wiretaps? - Yeah.

- Absolutely not. - Why?

Violation of Federal Wiretap Law for one,

breach of chain of custody, evidence tampering,

violation of departmental policy,

not to mention it leaves us open for civil lawsuits.

You need another reason?

Do you always do shit by the books?

If you ask me about it, yeah.

If I don't know about it...

...what am I supposed to do?

Ludmore and ginger ale please.

Don't hear that order too often.

Too bad, it's my favorite.

Irish. What part?

Guess.

West Belfast.

Hardly. Guess again.

It all sounds the same to me.

You Protestant or Catholic?

Protestant.

Mm. Very good.

What brings you here?

Peace and quiet, mainly.

My parents have relatives here.

We're not too political,

we're not big fans of random shootings and bombs.

It's a sad war.

Let's drink to its end.

Hm.

I hope you don't mind all these questions.

Mm.

You're very beautiful.

Thank you.

You staying here at the hotel?

Sometimes I do.

But only by the hour.

I see. Hm.

You know, my parents, they're so strictly

working class.

Four brothers, three sisters,

it's so hard to get by.

But not impossible.

Maybe I can help.

How?

I could contribute.

In exchange for some private time.

That's so kind of you.

I don't know your name.

You can call me whatever you want.

So, what do you say?

Do you wanna come upstairs?

Hey, Jimmy. Need a minute.

Ain't you got somethin' better to do?

Come on, don't break my balls. It's about Sean.

- Catch up with you. - All right.

How's your boy doing? He good?

Yeah, he's fuckin' grand. Why do you ask?

Seen him?

Look, in case you hadn't heard, Sean's gonna cop a plea.

He's gonna do his time and he's not gonna talk.

Okay, good.

I was just worried, is all.

Worried about what?

Somethin' I heard on a federal wire tap.

Sounds like Sweeney talkin' to John Gotti.

Interested?

Or I could go fuck myself.

Oh, sure. Play the fuckin' thing.

Sound system ain't that great. I gotta get new speakers.

Paul has a lot of associates inside,

and he could easily find out about us that way,

and then we'd be real fucked.

Shit.

Yeah, shit.

I like this kid.

Well, I like my guys too.

I just like my life more. Don't you?

Fuck.

I'll handle it.

Good.

If you ask me...

they're talking about Sean.

Could be-- Could be talking about anyone.

Could be.

Funny thing is,

Sean Flynn was supposed to turn himself in today

at 5:00 PM.

He never showed.

Which means, to me,

he's either in the wind...

or under the ground.

I hope I'm fuckin' wrong.

But you know what?

You could go ask Mr. Sweeney yourself.

See what he says.

Eamon?

Sean's dead, isn't he?

Isn't he?!

Yeah.

Why? He wasn't gonna say a fuckin' word!

You think I wanted to?

This is your fuckup, Jimmy.

You never should have gone to fuckin' Gotti.

And you should've told him to go fuck himself!

You killed Davey.

And you killed Sean.

What, because you're afraid of losing the fuckin'

Javits Center?

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Grow the fuck up! All right?

All this shit you're tryin' to lay on me

is your fuckin' fault!

You killed Sean, Jimmy, not me.

I told you, he wasn't gonna talk.

I fuckin' told you he was gonna keep his fuckin' mouth shut!

- He fucked up! - Why the fuck

didn't you trust me?

I had this under control,

- you fuckin' cunt! - Bullshit! You did not

have it under control!

I had to fuckin' fix it for you!

So, learn a lesson, okay?

You wanna be the fuckin' boss,

well, this is what it fuckin' takes!

No. No, you're not a fuckin' boss.

You're a fuckin' piece-of-shit coward.

You don't give a fuck about us, do you?

You never have.

You'd kill us all for a fucking penny.

Yeah, maybe I would.

But not for a penny, not for fuckin' money.

For power, Jimmy.

The kind of power money can't buy.

That's what you don't understand.

All these years, I thought, I hoped...

...when I get ready to get out of the fuckin' game...

...you'll be ready to take over.

But I was wrong about you, Jimmy.

You don't have what it takes.

You don't, Jimmy.

You don't fuckin' have it in you.

You're fuckin' pathetic.

You gonna shoot me?

difuze