All language subtitles for Street Kings[2008]DvDrip[Eng]-FXG

[Street Kings]

transcript by rogard

Yo, dawg.

Konichiwa.

- What?
- Konichiwa.

Konichiwa means:
"What's up?"

- So what the fuck's up?
- We know what it means.

You wanna smoke?

Read the paper ??? yourself clean.

Couple of these and you'll be
fucking like beasts.

- Boys like pussy, right?
- Hey!

Yo, do we look like fucking
tweakers to you?

- So you got the shit or not?
Yeah. You?

What the fuck is this?
We said a machine gun.

It is a machine gun.

- The kind you can carry.
- Couldn't get none of those.

This baby's got character,
Korean war vintage.

Maybe we mowed down
one of your grandpapa-sans,

when he was charging the wire
in China.

Shit, it's fuckin' stuck.

Fuck it! Take it right. 3 large, and it's clean.

Nigger, I drive a $100,000 car.

We want your fagotty ass right
or we'll jack it from you.

Cool. Down to insult right now.

Konichiwa is Japanese,
It's insulting to Koreans.

How am I supposed to tell
if you can't?

Fuck's that supposed
to mean, white boy?

Means you got eyes like apostrophes,
you dress white, you talk black,

and drive Jew.
So how am I supposed to know

what kind of zipperhead-

dog-munching-dick you are,
if you don't?

Yo.

You know who the fuck we are?

Yes, you're a couple of
panheads...

buyin' a machine gun out of a trunk.

What's up?

- Take him up.
- Get your ass up!

Shit.

What do you mean, shit?!

- Konichiwa, bitch.
- Let's go.

Where?

(Speaking Korean)

It's okay,
I'm a cop.

Captain Wander, congratulations on
breaking the case.

Can you tell me how
you've found the twins?

Truly, my people turned this city
upside down, looking for these girls.

I could not be prouder of my men.

Ma'am, excuse me.

How can you shoot a guy
taking a dump?

I mean, seriously, that's sacred.

That's like shooting
the man in church.

Or a Dodger game.

Whatever it takes to be a hero,
any time, any place, right, Lud?

I guess so...

I hate these short-eyed
-kiddy-raping bastards.

At least kidnap some full-grown
ladies with shapes.

Wow. Maybe we should check his
closet next, huh, Lud?

The girls are being examined by
a physician right now.

Both twins are in good health,

and will be reunited
with their family shortly.

L.A. Times front page tomorrow
is gonna say:

"Vice detective rescues missing twins."

Detective,
Singular.

Yeah, maybe we've been sittin'
around on our asses and doin' jack shit

- and all during the last month.
- Hey!

You two cut the shit.
The boss is on his way right now.

I mean, you could've
just saved some for us.

[What do you want], Santos?

You wanna see their faces every night?
You wanna be a killer?

You know what? Shut the fuck up!

Hey, what the hell is going on?
Hey!

This is real professional,

What if I walk in here
with the chief? Huh?

Santos, go get your ass outside.

Find Ted Berman and make sure

that that crime scene lot
is in order.

- Yes, sir.
- Ride along, boy.

- Shut the fuck up.
- Hey, secure that bullshit, right?

Both of you.

Clady, you take DeMille back
to the ward and start writing.

I want something to red-pin by midnight.

Tell your buddy he's
gonna do his writing.

Got it captain. Let's go.

This is crazy.

You fucked 'em up.

This is beautiful.

And that machine gun shit,
that was perfect.

I know you hate to wait,
but it's better this way.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

- I got shot.
- Yeah, but you're okay?

Yeah. I'm okay, Jack.

Because I know you're not tripping
about these...these assholes, right?

Fuck, it's cool.

You were toe-to-toe with evil,
and you won.

You saved those girls.

This is lovely, Tommy.

Come here, man.
Give me a hug.

Come on.

- Not so tight.
- What are you hiding from?

You've been drinking.

You know, that thing
they say about vodka?

How you can't smell it?

It's bullshit.

The D.A. shooting team...

is in rut
right now (do their job).

And you're not ready
for public consumption.

So... come on, I wanna
get you to a hospital.

Get you away from all of this.

Thanks, Jack.

If it ain't L.A.'s deadliest white boy.

Aren't you on the wrong side
of the yellow tape?

Congrats on four more notches
for your gun butt.

I'll be praying for
the families of your victims.

They're called "suspects".

The victims are the
14-year old school girls...

the suspects kept in a cage
and sold to chicken hawks,

to poke prod put on the Internet.

"Suspects", Washington.
"Suspects".

As evil as those men were,
they had a right to trial.

There is gonna be some
blowback...

from the Korean community on this one.

Now that you're off limits,
why don't you just say it?

You think I'm a racist.

- Do you have another explanation?
- No, I don't,

because if I rule and
determine a suspect...

is black, yellow or brown

I blow them out of their socks.

But if they are white,
I give them a ride home.

You know why?
Because I am a racist. Fuck you.

Man, I would give you my right arm
to have that shit on tape.

What happened to you, Terrence?
We used to be brothers.

Hey, hey!

Stay on point, Washington.
You stay on point.

Always, Captain Wander.
Always.

Tom. Come on,
let's get you out of here.

Don't go near that piece of shit.

He's got it coming, Jack.

Do not go near him.
Stay away, far away.

- Fuck him.
- That's an order.

I'm waiting for Nurse Garcia.

I did the same thing
with this girl once.

She was a waitress at a jazz bar.

I'd sit in her section and
won't let anybody else serve me.

If they changed sections,
I'd change tables.

Persistence, that's the key.

Wait a second.

You're that cop. You're that--
I've just seen your face on tv.

You rescued those twins in Korea-town, right?

Are you okay?
Did you get shot?

No.
Yeah.

How about you?

Me? I sell insurance.
Life, auto, casualty.

That was some heavy shit, man.

So those guys, they shot first, right?

Excuse me?

The whole city was looking
for those kids.

- How'd you find them?
- That's my job.

Excuse me, Captain.
Sorry to interrupt.

Deputy Chief Sarson is trying to raise you
on the simplex.

Insurance, Tom.
I sell insurance.

If you ever need any,
and you will,

why don't you give me a call?

No one has to know but us.
Not Clady, not Wander, no one.

Listen, for your own good...

Don't get yourself so far out there
that I can't reel you back.

See you sometime.

Who was that?

Copper burns cops.
Jesus.

- Who?
- Nobody, Grace.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Hold this.

You know, you can just
stop by sometime.

You don't have to get shot
when you want to see me.

Why? I like it like this.

Don't you?

No, I don't.

I don't.

No, Don't get close to me.

I work here. I'm not losing
my license for you.

- I am a cop.
- No.

I keep the door open after
identifying myself as a police officer.

Upon entry, I was fired upon

by a suspect in the living room
with a silver automatic.

I returned fire,
he goes down.

Then I'm hit in the torso by shotgun
fire from the second suspect.

Point of entry?

Front door in the
west side of the structure.

Why didn't you call
for backup?

Exigent circumstances.

I heard screams
eminating from the house,

and assertained a crime was in progress.

Great work you did there.
Thanks a lot.

Now it's a party.

Oh my goodness, now it's
a bandage, captain.

How you doin'?

Steady, steady.
Yeah, he's in.

What's with you?
What, Clady give you a 'happy ending'?

Is that any way to address a Commander?

Got the call from the
chief this morning.

Badge ceremony is next week.

Congratulations, boss.

Hey, We're gonna have the keys to the city.

Do you believe that shit?
They're crowning him king.

Let's get a toast to that.
Toast to the king.

King Wander.

Yo boss, gotta be your driver
when you make chief?

- You got it, you got it if you want.
- All right.

You know, I owe you one, Tom.

That pot twins caper,
that gave me the edge.

You know, the chief,
he's breaking tradition,

Now that I'm over here.

The first commander's slot always goes
to the head of Internal Affairs,

that's the way it is.

That's because they got
so much dirt on everyone.

That's right,

and they're always
looking for more, huh?

Yeah.

You know this prick?

Came at me like "Joe Concerned Citizen"
asking procedural questions.

Yeah, we got a history, this--

See, if they'd show up
during the daytime,

you would know who your enemies are.

What did you tell him?

I couldn't help myself clearly,
I told him everything.

Attaboy.

You know, this is a typical
Biggs bullshit move,

Backdoor is all they fuckin' got.

Why is Internal Affairs
after my ass all of a sudden?

It's Washington, brother.

Your ex-partner has been snitching.

Holy shit.

Jack, talk to me.

Washington had several meetings...

with Captain Biggs over
the last few weeks.

They're no secrets in the department,

so when I became cognizant
of the problem, we threw a tail on him,

I followed this guy,
Eastside, Westside, Southside.

Next thing I know, he's ringing Biggs'
doorbell in upland.

Who's Washington given up?

You, Tom.

- Me?
- Yeah.

- Why now?
- Because I shitcanned

-him from this unit
and he is a vindictive bastard.

And now he is on a mission
to pull the rock from under all my best guys,

All my best guys,
that's what this shit's about.

Whoa Whoa Whoa, Tommy, Tommy.

- Tommy, Hey! That's your life right there.
- I'm just gonna talk to my friend.

- No, you 're not. You're not.
- You wanna talk?

Let's talk about my foot up your ass

if you don't sit the fuck down
here on your chair right now.

Have a seat.
Come on.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Do not, and I repeat, do not
hand Washington your badge.

I know you two have done some
stuff together,

But we gotta hold the line,
you and me.

We've been here before, haven't we?

When the gates of hell
opened up on you, Tom.

I took care of you then,
I'm gonna take care of you now.

- All right?
- Okay.

Washington.

Drop it.
- What are you doing?

Do you want to kill me, partner?

Are you crazy, we've
got a 2-11 in progress.

I got you,
I got you and Wander.

Listen to me, you idiot. We've got two
gang bangers rolling in hot.

Shit.

Washington.
Stay with me, partner.

- Don't move! Let me see your hands!
- I'm a cop...

I'm a cop,
I'm a fucking cop!

Fuck.

- It's Ludlow.
- Give me an ambulance now.

Holy shit.

He's a cop too?

Yeah.

Where's the video?

- Who else has seen this?
- Just us, boss.

It was a straight 2-11 that's in sight.

That's not what it was,
that's what it looks like.

But it's not what it looks like,
It's not.

That's all there is, Tom.

What it looks like.
What everybody sees.

You knew that.

Right, if anybody in the
department sees this video,

you're no longer a cop,
do you understand that?

The department?
If the D.A. sees this...

- he's going to prison.
- Why?

Because Washington was
in the wrong place at the wrong time?

No, because you were.

Washington's problems are over.
Yours, are just beginning.

Try to think
two moves ahead, for once.

Captain Biggs will say that you got
two thugs off the street,

went after a cop who
was diming you out

to Internal Affairs.

It writes itself.

I was just gonna break his jaw.
- That's a good answer.

I gave you a direct order:
Stay away from him.

Give me your goddamn gun.
Now.

Give me your goddamn gun.

You don't give a shit about yourself,
that's pretty obvious,

but you gotta think about the unit.
You really fucked us on this one.

Clady, give me a minute, please.

Yes, sir.

I can't afford to lose you.

Who'd do what you do?

You are the tip of the fucking spear.

Who's gonna hold back the animals?

Maybe...

the clerk...

forget to put a disk
in the recorder today.

Maybe you were first on the scene, Tom.

And you ran to the aid to Washington.

Who wanna say...

Make some calls.

And me...

this, won't be here

when I get back.

He was my partner, back in the day.

We were black and white...

when black and white
was still a big deal.

White cops wouldn't back us
'cause they aimed at the

black cops because of me.

Fuck 'em.

We made it.

Sorry, You tried to save him,
you did your best.

My best? I was curled up
in a ball while he got shot.

We should've dumped those guys.

How can they just wave a pen and
change what happens

just like that?

We're the police,
we can do whatever the hell we want.

It doesn't matter what happens.
It's how we write it up.

What about the truth?

What about it?

You have to honor him,
your friend.

Honor him?

I was gonna knock him out
and he thought I was gonna kill him.

- Prick.
- Don't turn your back on him.

Good can come from bad.

In my world, the real world...

bad breeds more bad, Grace.

You see this? It's done. It's over.
It's taken care of.

All right?

I don't want to give you
another dose here, but

Got a set of blues in your locker?

- No...
- Here's the thing.

- I gotta bury you.
- Not that.

In a nice, politically correct spot.

Until this Washington
thing's settle down a bit.

No, Jack.

Your job is to conduct preliminary
interviews of the aquainted.

If there is a specific allegation
against an officer

you write it up and forward
it over to Internal Affairs.

Now, temptation is to be a "good
brother" cop.

Don't be. None of this shit's
going anywhere anyway.

There is your desk.

Suppose I get a complaint
against myself?

Write it up and forward it.

- Okay?
- Okay.

Do you have a complaint?

Motherfucker beat my ass
like I was Rodney King, man.

Except there was no video.

Dude looked just like you,
but black.

This ass been working longer than
all the y'all cops disrespecting me.

He pulled me out of my
ride, homie, disrespected...

me in front of my old lady.

Tried to get her number and shit.

Do you have his badge number?
Did you see his name tag?

Not with his boot on my throat and
his partner kickin' me...

No, it's a little bit difficult.

Everyone comes here,
they have a complaint.

They sit down, I've been waiting
here for motherfuckin' 5 hours,

and now you do ask me:
do I have a complaint.

Obviously I have a complaint.

You know what, this is some bullshit.

That's why I hate all
these motherfuckers.

Fuck all y'all!

Wander has got sense of humor,
I'll give him that.

Do you have a complaint?

Where to begin?

The black band.

Man down.
Hurts, right?

Losing a colleague,
a brother in blue.

I am sorry he's gone, sir.

You two worked Vice Special together,

pushed the black and
white in the Southend.

"Phonebook Tom."

The last of the ghetto gunfighters.

Heard you got your best
confession with a '91 directory.

You know Washington was holding
me assholed down.

Is this an interview?

Just a little back and forth.

Look, Captain, I'm not much a dancer.

So if there's something
you'd like to ask...

Wanna go get some lunch, Tom?

This is the interview.

Regarding yesterday's incident.

You were the first on scene, correct?

Yes, sir.

Three shooters, right?

Two. Read the report.

What would you say if I told you that
the pathologists recovered

three different calibres
from Terrence Washington's body?

That sounds like three shooters to me.

What are you doing here, Tom?

Come on, man-to-man.
Tape's off.

Damn it!

It doesn't bother you that
there are two cop killers out there

living, laughing, fucking?
It doesn't bother you, Tom?

Yes, it bothers me!

So why'd you let them
get away, gunfighter?

Hey, let's get something
straight Captain.

Nobody's getting away.

What happened to the
video from the store?

What video?

Listen to me,

every time you shit the bed,
Wander's there to change the sheets.

Well, not anymore, son.

I'm gonna pour gas on you,

and I'm gonna pour gas on Wander
and everyone in Vice Special.

Then I'm lighting a match
and I'm gonna burn all of you.

I tried to save you,
Detective Ludlow.

Your window's closed.

And that third shooter?

He's mine, so help me God.

Get back into your office!

Captain, are you still there?

I'll call you back.

What the fuck are you
doing in my office?

What the fuck are you doing,
jamming my people at lunch?

If you got a problem with Ludlow,
you come to me.

You keep your dog on a leash.

Everybody knows he can't
make a move without you.

- You go cry to daddy?
- Stop, right there.

Stop.

Tom is a damn fine cop.

He bleeds cool.

You got an open case on him?

Vice Special?

You got one on me?

You formally inverstigating us?

This is a fishing expedition.

'Cause you know
if you went to the chief,

and you asked him

to open a case on me or
anybody on my unit.

he would laugh you out of his office.

Listen to me, you piece of shit.

I watched you intimidate,
bully and blackmail

your way up through the
pay grades for 20-plus years.

I know exactly what you are.

You got no business being a commander.

You like Tom, don't you?

I saw the way you watched
him when we came in.

That's why you're following him around.

You want him to give you a blowjob,

Like that hooker I caught...

you with when we were
sergeants, remember?

Shut up, Jack.

Does your wife know that
you use prostitutes, Jimmy?

That was the best
head I ever had.

And What about you, Jack?

You always found it hard to keep
your prick out of the ghetto.

It's a two-way street, buddy.

You can't ride the tiger forever.

Now get the hell out of my office.

Do the department a favor
and wash your mouth out with buckshot.

Come on, Tom.
Let's get out of here.

In his time on the street,

and through his time in
your schools and homes,

Detective Washington was tireless

in his devotion to his church,
his love for his family...

and his dedication to this department.

Uniform detail,
atten-hut!

Fire guard,
port arms.

Half right, face.

Ready.
Aim! Fire!

Aim!
Fire!

Aim!
Fire!

Uniform detail,
present arms!

- Go back to work.
- Yes sir.

Let's go get 'em.

Sir.

Mrs. Washington?

- I was.. first on scene.
- Yeah, of course you were.

Excuse me.

You Diskant?

Yeah.

You're working on Washington?

Yeah.

You know who I am?

Yes.

Are you not interviewing me?

You are on my list.

Let's get rolling.
Where do I start?

Gang books, mug-shots?
2-11 reports?

If you want.

Come on, Diskant.
You've worked on homicide before.

I'm 2-4-2 (battery, brawls, fights).

Okay, 2-4-2.
You got the ballistics report?

No.

The bullets are still at the coroner's.

Yeah, but they've giving
you updates, right?

Did they tell you how many different
calibers they dug out of Washington?

- What do you want?
- How many?

Goodbye, detective.

Harry, I thought you were dead.

I'm from Vice Special.

Tom Ludlow.
I know who you are.

I handled your wife's autopsy.

That was you?

Mmhmm, the asshole, remember?

Right.

The guy who washed away all the
hair and fibre evidence.

The guy who wouldn't do a vaginal swab.

The guy who left me
with nothing to go on.

It's not my job to investigate adultery.

How can I help you?

Pulled these out of Washington?

Yep. 18 rounds. Ten .45 calibre...

full metal jackets,
seven 9 millimeter FMJs

and a single .38 hollow point...

mushroomed against the
scapula.

Serious overkill.
Must've really pissed off the shooters.

Did you get what you were looking for?

I am Detective Diskant, we spoke
on the phone earlier.

- I'm here for the ballistics evidence.
- How're you doing?

- When can I expect the report?
- In about an hour, sir.

- Can you fax this to my office?
- Okay.

Thank you, Doc.

Diskant, talk to me.

You got three different calibres,
that means three weapons.

What's your take on what went
down in that market?

Two bad guys come through the front door...

to rob the place, one
of them sees the clerk,

cut's him in half, the other one sees

Washington, whose weapon
is already drawn,

empties his clip into him.

His buddy joins the party,
till he runs dry,

then one of them pulls a 2-incher,

pumps a final "fuck you"-round
into Washington's back.

They leave, you show up
after they're gone.

Got it all figured out.

I got your back here,

but you got to keep your distance
and let me work this case.

No one's gonna find these assholes.
Is that what you need to hear from me?

Are you fucking kidding me?

They get a pass and you get a pass.
That's the deal, right?

What are you talking about,
"the shooters get a pass"?

I don't understand.
Clady said you were on board.

Not with this.

What is the deal?
You throw in this case for a promotion?

If I were you I'd be
more worried about yourself.

Hey, you piece of shit! You got a
1-8-7 on a police officer

and you're fucking
lettin' the suspects walk?

- You want these guys found?
- That doesn't piss you off?

- So they can put you at the store?
- Fuck off!

Place you in the store
before the shooting?

Do you want to catch
a felony for obstruction?

If I say you weren't there,
you weren't there.

This is your mess,
and I'm cleaning it up.

Yeah, it pisses me off.

Diskant.

Yeah.

Yes, hang on one second.

All right, go ahead.

All right, thank you.

Bye bye.

You write in codes.

The lab found saliva on a cigarette butt
and a bandana outside the store.

The DNA corresponds to those two names.

Congratulations, you
I.D-ed the shooters.

Yeah, normally I would be pretty happy.

Pull the rep sheets. Give me copies.

I'll see you around.

The computer says you
arrested these guys.

Fremont and Coates.

Good guys.
Say hi for me.

Do you remember them?

Who can forget?

Heroin dealers with a
taste for blood.

Came up from Belize to make a sale
and they liked the Southland so much.

They never left.

Yeah, we hooked these fine gentlemen
on a rape/mutilation caper.

It seems they had a
three day hostage fest

with this cute little Guatemalan chick.

They snatched her up
when she was walking over from school.

Hurt her bad.

- Then why are they on the streets?
- They walked from the ???.

One of our own felt we violated

Mr. Coates' and Mr.
Fremont's civil rights

and told the city attorney.

- Washington dimed you out.
- Yeah.

Why do you think they put that dude
community relations?

Are you shittin' me?

Washington kicked loose
the very guys who whacked him?

Damn ironic, ain't it?

Hello, guys.
What is this, a garage sale?

Hello, Lud?
What's this?

Why...uh...

Lud, why do you have this?

Those are the shitbags
who popped Washington.

Sarge, we can get these guys.

No, no.
Not if you want to keep your badge.

Besides, these two animals?

These guys,
they'll take care of each other.

They'll be dead by the end of the week.

Probably shoot
each other's fucking faces off.

no one needs to.

You know how this shit works.

This week's suspect,
next week's victims.

Right?

Yeah, right.

- What are you doing here, Tom?
- Let's talk.

I'm sick of this shit, man.

It's the same damn song for three years.

Crying about your wife.

She's gone, Tom.

What's it going to take
to bring you back from Mars?

Have I ever asked you for anything?

You know what,
you ask me for shit all the time.

Big things, Jack?

Important things.

What's up, Tom?

Give me a green light to...

take out the assholes
who did Washington.

Come on, Jack.
King's X.

What the hell is this?

I can lay them out like
I did those Koreans, but off the books.

I'm talking shovels and trash bags.

Who's going to know?
Who's going to care?

The Koreans...

that was business.

This is some crazy bullshit...

wrapped around in that
drunk ass mind of yours.

Look at yourself.

Look at yourself Tom, you're a mess!

When did you start drinking today?

Your little airplane bottles of vodka.

And you drove over here intoxicated.

You want a second D.U.I?

No one's going to fuck with me, Jack!

You're not listening to me!

You're not listening to me!

No, you listen to me.

This is much bigger than that.

Do you think Biggs is stupid?

He has a Ph.D. in catching cops slipping.

You know this.
You know all this.

You gotta hold your mud.

Can you do that?

It's time to turn the page
and close the book.

They took $200.

I had forgotten about this
until I saw this.

That's the man.

That's him.

They took all my pay.
Said it was for the cookie jar.

The cookie jar.

That's what he said.

I'll be right back.

What do you want, Disco?

Washington was dirty.
He was a piece of shit.

Why are you telling me this?

I think you know why.

I know why.

- Recording this? Huh?
- That's a new phone.

You're working for Internal Affairs.

You made one deal,
maybe you made two?

Did Captain Biggs
flip you to the dark side, punk?

You know what?

They're right about you.
You are fucking out there.

From now on you stay away from me.
We don't talk.

Hold on, Disco.
Hold on.

I gotta watch my own back
these days, you know?

Don't be mad.

Washington was dirty.

Hit me, princess.
Come on.

Couple of things.

You know, we found $50,000 in cash
on him at the store?

No, I didn't. That's a lot of cash
but not in itself damning.

Oh, but this is.

Looks like an evidence tag.

I found it in Washington's truck.

I had SID (Scientific
Investigation Division)...

scan it, corresponds
to a kilo of heroin.

Guess who comes along
and signs up the dope?

Washington.

Washington signed out heroin
and returned brown sugar.

Guys who whacked him moved dope.

You know, Washington sprung them from
a rape deal on a technicality.

No, I did not know that.

Maybe they had a business arrangement.

Maybe it was a hit?

That would explain
the heavy artillery.

Washington deserved it, right?

He was dirty, so fuck him.

I feel much better
about the suspects walking,

And you must feel better, too, right?
We're doing the right thing.

No shame if you want to take your pass.

This has to be you and me.

Why do you think we're
in the goddamn bathroom?

This is it. The last known address.

(Speaking Spanish) We are cops.

Do you live here?

How long have you been living here?

Three months.

Who's living with you?

My mum, my dad, my sisters and brothers
and my cousin Grisella.

No one else?

Okay.

Family or not.
Our boys are long gone.

All right, Disco.

See those yahoos?
I'm gonna jam 'em.

And when I do,
one of them is gonna bolt.

That's the one that's dirty.

Are you bored or something?

This is their hood.

If anyone knows Fremont
and Coates, they do.

- Fuck it.
- Look at those guys.

Get him.

Suck on my balls!

Go home.
You're in the wrong neighborhood homes.

Watch out!

(Indistinctively) Run, amigo!

Spencer.

I had him.

Why are you running, man?

Get me the fuck down here.
I just--.

- Get me the fuck down, man.
- What else?

What the fuck are you doing, man?

So what do they call you?

They call me fucking Quicks, man.

"Quicks"?
Not quick enough.

Hey, get me the fuck down.
This meshes are cutting me up.

Fremont and Coates, they were staying...

across from were you were
partying at. You know them?

I don't fucking know the fools, man.

I 'm a fucking Southsider, right esse?

I won't fuck nobody with
my brothers and shit.

Hey, what the fuck you doin'?

They're from Belize.

Who knows them?
Who knows them?

Who knows them?!

Look, look.
Check this out, man.

I know a guy from
San Pedro, all right?

Dude's name is Grill.
He's from 40s Town, esse?

- Grill, 40s Town.
- Yes.

Grill, man.
The motherfucker, he knows all of them.

All right, let me--Hey!

Hey!

What about him?

- The fucker is not going to jail.
- Hey!

I'll run Grill through,

- see if I can get an address.
- Hey! Fucking whiteboys!

Fuck.

Shit.

Police!

Get on your face!

What the fuck did I do, man?

Get your ass in here, Disco.

No one's telling me
what the fuck I did.

Shut up.

Shit.

You got two strikes, Grill.

This is three strikes.

25 to life.

That ain't my fuckin' shit.
Fuck you!

You put that shit there.

Dirty ass punk ass cop.

What are you--?

Shit!

Ludlow!
- What the fuck, man?

Stop!

Fuck man.
Listen to your boy, man. Shit.

Don't you have to ask
him something first?

Homie, right. Aren't you
supposed to ask me some shit first?

Fremont and Coates,
where're they at?

Aww man,
stop hitting my fucking head first,

and I'll tell you.

Where do they fucking stay?

You're fucking crazy, man.
I don't know where they at.

???????????

If I catch them, I'm gonna
bust their motherfucking head, man.

Answer the fucking question!
How do we find them?

Only cass I know
didn't know them.

He's up in the county, man.
High Powell.

- I'm gonna book you into county.
- For what, man?

Talk to your friends.
Find me Fremont and Coates.

and you'll be out by tomorrow,

otherwise I'm gonna
book you for the dope and AK.

Fuck man, fuck!

- I ain't no fucking snitch, man.
- I know that.

There won't be no jacking,
no papers.

It's just you and me.

Fuck, man.

Come on, they ain't nothing to you.
I want them.

All right, man.
Fuck it.

Mrs. Washington?

We talk outside?

Terrence had $ 50,000 in cash on him.

His death might be more than just
wrong place, wrong time.

"Might be"?

How many people knew he was
talking to Internal Affairs?

My husband had a good heart.

And when he started listening to it,
he became a pariah.

His eyes opened.

When will your eyes open?

Terrence always said
you were the worst one.

Because with all the shit
going on around you,

you choose not to see.

Look, I came here to help you.
- Help me?

You came to help
yourself sleep at night.

That $ 50,000.
Do you think Terrence was stupid?

He knew he has a bull's eye in his back
the second he went to Captain Biggs.

So we sold our house.

We were leaving Friday for the Bahamas.

To start over.

Silly of us, wasn't it?

Anything else, detective?

No.

Lud.

What the fuck?

- How's complaints?
- You've just missed your wife.

- She was here?
- Yeah.

That's cute.

I got something for you.

That's for you.

- Is that it?
- That's it, yeah. That's it.

You can keep it as a nice souvenir
for yourself. Well Tom this is...

I mean, it's over.

Tom, this is over.

We got your back, Tom.

- Yeah.
- It's your man at High Powell.

- I got that name.
- Fire away.

It is an old Cheetoh.
He sells a little this, a little that.

Drives an old S Cadillac.

- Name.
- Scribble. They call him Scribble.

His real name's Winston or some shit.
I don't know.

All right, now get me up out of here.

It's on its way.

I can't believe this shit worked.
Scribble. It's catchy.

We got a metro unit tailing him.

Go get him, Disco.

- Make me proud.
- You're not coming?

- Watch it, watch it!
- Are you married, Diskant?

Engaged. And I'd like
to see her again.

Have you ever heard of something
called the "cookie jar"

in reference to corruption.
Shakedown, Serpico shit?

- No, why?
- A complaint I'm working on.

We are eastbound, Vernon passing.
Should we stop him?

That's a negative,
just keep eyes on him.

I call it out. We're en route.

Watch it!
Crosswalk.

There he is.

- We got him. Break out.
- That's a roger.

Shit.

Hands where I can see them!

Who are y'all supposed to be, man?
Narcs?

Yes, we're Narcs.

Look how pinned out your eyes are.
Take a little off the top?

A little Jones maintenance?

You need to kick that shit.

I got a lawyer, you might wanna
talk to him. I got his card.

You wake up.
Nothing's happened yet.

But F.Y.I,
I know you've got a no-bail-warrant.

I put the cuffs on now,
you're locked up until the Apocalypse.

Whatever, man.
Take me on a ride right now, dawg.

I mean, read me my Miranda.

Put your hands back
on the fucking wheel!

Yo, "242".
Watch those fucking jokers.

Get back!
Ga the fuck back!

- Fuck you're looking at, whiteboy?
- Get the fuck back!

Do you really wanna
kick heroin in County?

Wanna see that judge all sick,
shitting and puking yourself?

That'll look real good.
And for what?

You are just a rung in
a ladder I'm climbing.

What ladder, man?

How do I find Fremont and Coates?

Look, I ain't got no love
for them banana boat motherfuckers, man.

But those dudes are straight masters,

they'd put me in a box
if they think I'm snitching.

I am not asking to finger
the guys...

on an open court,

I just wanna find them.

Once I do,
you're out of the net.

I ain't seen them in a week, man.

- Got a number?
- No, I ain't got no number.

Look, all they do is drop
phones all the time.

They call me, man.

Look man, your man makes me nervous,
could you--

Look at me.
Look at me!

You wanna see that judge?
You're gonna help me find 'em.

Look. I did business with
them one time in El Sereno.

In their badass house,
way up in the hills.

That's it.

Show me.

You expect me to leave
my car in the hood, man?

Someone had a party.

Smell that?

Want me to put it out?

No, get the murder book.

Yes, it's Fremont.

And this is his buddy, Coates.

- We found them.
- Great. Case closed.

Now these guys have been here a while,
there's no way they killed Washington.

You think?

Fuck you.
I'm doing my best.

If Fremont and Coates
didn't kill Washington, who did?

- Who are we chasing?
- The assholes who smoked these guys.

harvested their DNA and
planted it in the market, that's who.

I'm with you.
But why do you frame two dead dudes?

We're gonna ask them.

Let's go.

What's up, man?

You know it's coyotes
out here and shit, right?

Yo, they've been gone a minute.

Do you know these guys?

No man, I ain't never seen these dudes.

Look, if Fremont and Coates call you,
set up a meeting.

You tell them I can do for them
what Washington can't anymore.

They'll know what you mean.

All right man, I hook it up.
Now you take me back to my car?

Sure.

- This way.
- Yeah, thank you.

I hope you guys will play nice
with the new girl.

- Is Tom taking care of you?
- I take care of him.

How's complaints, Lud?

Another scrape on a body
and it's a traffic collision.

So, Tom here falls apart
when he's not chasing bad guys.

He's always been like that.

He was born without fear.
I could tell you some stories.

Tell me.

No, we don't kiss and tell here.

I got the classic Tom Ludlow story.

When he was a rookie,
I took him under my wing.

It was a Friday night,
and we were in Crib city,

that's a project

lots of dope and shootings,
whatever, what have you.

So, we get to this quarrel
that shut down this house party.

And Tom, he's like the
saltiest boot ever,

and I think:

Let's give him a lesson
in humility.

So I sent him in there.
Alone.

And all of a sudden,
all hell breaks loose, right?

They got guys coming out of the doors,
others flew out of the windows...

Everybody is screaming inside,
I rush in, I charge in,

and there's Tom,
busting heads.

They wouldn't turn the music down.

Tom's always gonna be Tom.
He's like a guided missile, locks on...

That's it.

- Yeah?
- Hey, so I just talked to Scribble.

Fremont and Coates, or whoever they are,
want to meet us.

- When?
- Tonight.

I see you at Vice in an hour.

I know it's late,
I'm sorry.

- I wanted you to have this.
- And that is?

It's the video
of your husband's murder.

It shows everything.

Why are you doing this?

Because I know how not knowing hurts.

When I lost my wife,
she was with another man.

She had a blood clot in her brain,
and then it burst.

The bastard dumped her outside
of the hospital and...

she died alone on the sidewalk.

Linda...

I am sorry for wanting to hurt Terrence.

and I'm sorry for your loss.

I want you to know
he didn't die alone.

and that the men who killed him
are gonna pay.

That won't bring him back.

And that won't bring your wife back.

I don't care.

Not in my name.
Please.

Not in my name.

That doesn't wash away blood.

Shouldn't we roll with backup?

- Fuck backup.
- What? Why?

What do you think
is going to happen tonight?

Do you think I'm
throwing the cuffs on these boys,

drive them back to the barn
and write it up?

Here's the deal:

I'm going out there
and you're going home.

and we never ever gonna
discuss any of this again.

What? What do you mean?

It means Fremont and Coates
never existed and we never met.

I'm not going home tonight, Tom.

Look, Paul...

This thing you want,
that you think you want,

you don't want.

You don't know
who I am or what I want.

Who are you to judge me?

You want to be a gunfighter, huh?

Then let's do it.

Back on the nightwatch, Tom?

You two keep
being seen all over town.

Tom, did you really think
I was gonna do nothing about you?

If you're gonna do something,
do it now.

I know you want my scalp
nailed to your wall,

but then who's gonna
go in when the law won't?

You, Captain?

You?

You gonna clean up the needles
and baby parts?

No. You need me,
and my company of men.

You hate me
but you need me.

Ludlow...

Maybe you're right.
Maybe we do need you,

but goddamn if you don't need me, son.

Hey, detective.

You've ever asked yourself

if Washington's dead
because he was dirty

or because he came clean?

Swap your rounds out.

We don't want the coroner digging...

department issue ammo
out of these assholes.

Use the gloves.

Jesus,
these are some serious man slappers.

So we just go in there and kill them?

No, I 'm gonna ask
them some questions.

Then we're gonna kill them.

About fucking time, man.

No gun?

You know that's some bullshit, right?

These dudes is monsters, right?

I mean, if they can't fuck it, rob it
or kill it, they don't want it.

- Ready?
- Yeah.

- Make the introduction.
- All right. Try to take..

Get fuck in here.
- Shit, man.

You, move to the fucking wall.

What the hell is this?
You know we're cops.

Get over there.

- They're cool, esse.
- Shut the fuck up, Scribble.

Get in here.

Yo, do you think I'm fucking playing?

Get your asses against the wall
before you find your brains up here.

We're here to do business.

If you want me fill me up,
come on and try it.

Oh, shit. You want a fill of shit?

Cause he ain't taking it out for you.

Shut the fuck up, Richard.
Scribble say they good.

- Scribble, what's up
with these fools, man?

They good, man. They cool.

- Nigger, take a seat.
- Fucking asshole!

- You wanna drink?
- No, we're good.

Man, we got the one time
up in here.

Motherfucking po-po.
Is there any square cops out there?

Or is everybody out for theirs?

Everyone's out for theirs.

- Way of the world.
- Dude,

Cops are like weeds...

You pull one out,
and two more fucking grow back.

Well, Washington got greedy.

Don't shoot me now, I'm just
gonna get something out of my pocket.

This is just a sample.

We're all about weight.

We can help you transport.
let you know if there's heat.

let you know if you're selling
to a narc or a snitch,

or bust people
and sell you their shit.

We' all about weight, too.

Look at that shit.
That's sexy right there.

That's better than pussy.

That's better than money.
Ain't no Mexican tar neither.

That's their worldwide war
on terror dope, nigger.

Pure Afghan homie.

Dude, we know this chap.

That's the same motherfucker
that was in the market...

the day we pushed Washington way back.

Hell, yeah.

That was you, right?

Come on, man, cool, man.

Y'all just chill out.
I see where this is going, all right?

Everybody just be cool, man.

We got all these
thrilling opportunities.

- I'm gonna pump me some of this shit--
- Shut your fat ass up.

Is that what you're here for, dawg?

You here to get some get-back...

for that sorry ass
nigger, Detective Ludlow?

No, you guys did me a favor.

So you know who I am
and I know who you're not.

If you're not Fremont and Coates,
then who the hell are you?

Who are we, detective?

We're straight nightmares.

We're the walking, talking
"exigent circumstances".

Ludlow, wait!
I know these guyss!

It's all over, detective.

Shit!

I will do your bitch ass
like my nigger did your partner.

Hold on, Diskant, hang on.

What the fuck are you doing?

Nigger, pick that gun up and
blast the motherfucker!

Make me, dawg.

The next one in your
dome, nigger.

- Winston, don't do it!
- "Winston"?

Winston? What the fuck is that?
That's your slave name, nigger?

Do it, nigger.
Man, kill them whiteboy!

Yo, white man killed that whiteboy.

- I can't, man.
- Fuck this nigger!

Comin' out, dawg, cover me.
Come on.

Hang on, Diskant

Hang on.

- Let me see.
- Why are you crying?

Take that off.

Sit down, Tom.

It went bad, Grace.

I know...

I know.

I should have gone alone.

I took a boy to a gunfight.

Why are you crying?

What's wrong?

What's wrong?

...in our coverage of tonight's top story

Detective Tom Ludlow, an 18-year veteran
of the Los Angeles police department,

is wanted in connection
with the shooting deaths

of two undercover deputy sheriffs
in the early hours of the morning.

Officials have yet to confirm...

a third victim who may
also be a police officer.

In addition, they have
stated Detective Ludlow...

was off duty at the
time of the shootings

- and is the only suspect in yet another
- Cunts.

tragedy of the L.A. law enforcement.

Of course we will
continue to bring you...

How do they know that?
That they were cops?

I just left.
It's on the news?

Did you do it?

Of course you did it.

I had no idea
they were deputies,

but I should've.

"Exigent circumstances".
Jesus!

What is wrong with you?
Huh?

Why can't you have
a normal life like everyone else?

- I should go.
- No.

- No, you're not going out there.
- This is gonna be a nightmare, Grace.

- I gotta go.
- No, Tom.

The door is staying closed.

Every cop in L.A. is hunting for you,
you wanna get killed?

You need to get away from me, okay?

You need to get far away.

Everything I touch dies.

Down on the fucking floor!

- ???????
- Now!

- Don't say a fucking word.
- No, please.

Shut up.

Get up.

You're an asshole. You're going down.
You killed two fucking cops.

What's the matter with you?

Get that piece of shit out of here.

- Downtown is the other way.
- We're not going downtown.

Where are we going?

That bitch of yours is fine.

- What?
- Saw you with Washington's widow.

You're fucking them both, huh?

- Which one are you feeling, Dante?
- I like Linda.

You shouldn't have given
her the video, Lud.

What the fuck were you thinking?

You handed that bitch
your death sentence.

The hell are you talking about?

We've been watching you, asshole.

How many times were
you told to let it go?

- How many?
- Let's go home.

Fuck him.
Look what he's making us do.

Smart fucking punk.

Did you figure it out, Lud? Huh?

How do Fremont and Coates
make it to the market that day?

After Washington got them kicked
loose, you picked 'em back up.

You took them to the hills
and popped their melons, right?

You should be a detective.

- We took some DNA samples first.
- Little bit of hair, a little spit.

Voil�.
Fremont and Coates did it.

Who signed out the dope
wasn't Washington. You.

That was gonna be
incinerated. Might as well...

sell it and make a dollar
out of it, you know?

For you or the cookie jar?

You're not that smart, Santos.
Who is in?

Silky?
Clady?

Wander.

Wander.

It's a Wander caper all the way.

He's the only one who
could pull those strings.

He should have pulled
your string years ago.

We couldn't figure out why the fuck
he kept you around all this time.

He's Jack's little pet. He's been doing
the man's dirty missions for years.

Washington wasn't giving me up to Biggs.

He was giving up the big dog.
He was giving up the king.

Wander played your fool ass, puto.
We all have.

You're a fucking chump, bro.

Washington's killers,
they really cops?

Yeah, they were. Couple
deputies from the ghetto,

having the time of their lives.

- they were making a lot of money.

They were supposed to punch
your ticket,

but you punched theirs.

Yeah, now we gotta punch yours.

Up in the hills.

Up in the hills, brother.

First we bite your hair,
saliva and blood.

When they finally know
Washington's corpse,

guess whose DNA gonna be all over it?

And what is it gonna look like?

Like you finally snapped
just like everyone knew you would.

That little nurse of yours, Lud?

You know, I'm popping a 100mg Viagra

and I'm gonna work
that little brown ass.

And then I'm gonna break her neck.

Get the fucking cuffs off me!

Get off, you motherfucker!

Motherfucker!

Motherfucker!

Well hello there, handsome.
Did you have a nice nap?

Santos, your girlfriend's getting away.

What are you doing, Lud?
Are you crawling to your own grave?

Watch me play with this fool.
Hey pendecho.

- Oh, yeah!
- Oh, legger!

Who is the boy now, motherfucker? Huh?

Homeboy's gonna bury himself.

Just do the fucking point
and let's go.

This is it, Lud.

- This is how it ends.
- DeMille, what the fuck? Let's go, bro!

Shut up, I'm having fun!

Where is the fucking disk?

Where is the disk?

Come here.

You're a lot tougher than...

that piece of shit
husband you used to have.

BNN is off.

We 're gonna be here all night.

You have go, Linda.
wherever it is, you gotta go.

I'm already packed.

Take care of yourself, detective.

Where you're gonna go, copkiller?

I let myself in.

Clearly.

You all right, Tom?
I've been worried about you.

Apparently I killed two deputies.
Diskant is dead.

Santos and DeMille
dragged me out to die,

so I put them down.

Can you fix this, Jack?

Oh, I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna fix it.

You know, I suspected that
Santos and DeMille...

were capering with with
Washington, but...

I don't want to believe that this
kind of shit was going on in my unit.

Yeah, me neither.

Boss, you better get Clady up here.
I need you guys.

I'll get him in the loop.

Better get him up right now.
You need an alibi.

You were sleeping on a
couch after the party.

Santos and DeMille, they killed
those deppies, not you. Not you.

This is Clady's phone,
and his badge.

All this is you.
It's you, Jack.

No, it's you.
It's you, Tom.

Own it!
Fucking own it!

You knew they were cops.

Those guys are so deep
undercover that they--

They lost their fucking minds!

Don't mourn them. You can't mourn them.

You set me up.
You sent me to die, Jack!

I didn't set you up!

You set yourself up!
I was trying to save you.

You're backing up in a fucking corner--

- You killed Washington!
- Fuck him!

Fuck Santos. Fuck DeMille. Fuck Clady.
Fuck 'em all.

Fuck them all!

They are a dime a dozen.

You.

You man.
You're special.

- You're special to me.
- Diskant.

He is special.

I've watched a good man die
because of you.

That is entirely your fault.

Come on, Tom.

I know we'll get past this.

We got a destiny,
you and me.

Nobody's getting past this, Jack.

Everything ends now.
You end now.

I surrender.
I surrender.

Hook me and book me.

There's a Rover right there.

Pull it out. One for
transport. Goddamn.

Tom Ludlow, he's got his man now.

I found you,
and I made you... possible.

Now you need me more than ever, Tom.

What did you think I'd do
when I found out?

Wait, man.
Wait.

Wait.

My wall,

it is all there in the wall.

These secrets, they're killing us.

Open it up!

Open it up!
Tear it down!

Tear it down!

Hit it.

Here it is.

This is my power.

This is my crown.

I'm the king of secrets, Tom.

I know which city council man is
doing lines,

I know who likes boys.

I know who's selling contracts.
I know who'd beaten his wife.

I own them!
Even the Chief is in my pocket, Tom.

How do you think that I've been able
to protect you all these years?

What do you think is it you're doing?
All these missions.

How do you think you're able
to touch the untouchables?

I'm gonna be chief!

I will be chief!

I will be mayor!

This is our world, Tom.

So let's take it.

Is that why you put a hit on Washington?

Why you tried to kill me?

So you can keep stuffing
money in your wall?

But this is our money.

The unit's.

Who do you think paid for

Silky's defense, doing
all those law suits?

Who's going to pay for your retirement?

I just corrected a
flaw in the system, Tom.

This is about cops helping cops.

And if a teacher
or a fireman could do it,

they would do it, too.

What happened to just
locking up bad people?

We're all bad, Tom.

You were my best friend.

We were family.

Drop it, Ludlow.

It's been enough killing.

I came as soon as you called.

Guess you're first on scene.

No, you were.

Looks like Jack's friends
got greedy, came after the money.

Is that what it looks like?

This your plan, Captain?

Just sit back and
let us all kill each other?

You were the plan.

No one else could touch him.

Once your eyes were opened,
there was no other outcome.

Decisions were made, Tom,

- by powerful men with powerful secrets.
- Captain?

They were afraid of Jack

and they asked me to help.

One day, you will pass the chief
in the hall and he will give you a nod.

And you will know why.

Because you were right, Tom.

We do need you.