Original subtitles

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(CHILDREN'S LAUGHTER, MEXICAN MUSIC)

Hey, kiddo, what are you doing?

I buy you a fancy Mexican meal and you're feeding it to a mutt.

Real fancy.

Have you any idea what that is?

What?

Tree chicken.

What?

That's what the locals call it.

Colds, headaches, hangovers. Cures anything.

Iguana. That's what they say.

What about indigestion? Fucking iguana taco.

(LAUGHS)

Yeah, well, you had it in Salvador.

Yeah, and that was shit.

What about Angola? The food was good there, right?

Shit.

Yeah? Rhodesia?

Shit.

- Hamburg? - Shit.

(CHUCKLES) So if it's not New York, it's...

You got it. Shit.

Look at you wasting away. We got to get a job in New York.

That won't be a problem. Plenty of assholes there.

(FLY BUZZES)

Time to move, kiddo.

(BELL RINGS)

(LAUGHS SOFTLY)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(BEEP!)

(WALKIE-TALKIE CRACKLES)

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(MEN SPEAK SPANISH) (SIGHS)

(STARTS ENGINE)

Oops.

(MEN SHOUT)

(CALLS OUT)

Aagh!

(AIR FROM TIRE HISSES)

Aargh! (TWO GUNSHOTS)

(GUNSHOT)

Fuck!

(GUNFIRE)

Stay down!

Stay down, kid!

(TIRES SCREECH)

- What happened?! - There was a kid in the car.

- What?! - There was a kid in the car.

- Go, go, go, go! - Fuck!

(GUNSHOTS)

(PANTS)

I'm done with this.

I'm finished.

I can't do this anymore.

I can't do this.

(BIRDS SCREECH OUTSIDE)

Oh, shit!

Shit.

(VEHICLE APPROACHES)

MAN: Danny, get in.

These camel jockeys have got diseases

I don't want to think about.

Where is he?

The client still has him.

What client?

We're going there now.

OK, drive.

So the client's an oil sheikh, no less.

Used to rule some huge stretch of desert

till his tribe kicked him out.

Been living here in exile ever since.

Anyway, Sheikhy was loaded, and he wanted a job done.

Hunter took the contract, then he ran.

They caught him at the airport.

And?

You know the rest. You got the package.

Yeah, I got it.

What's the job?

It just came with a price tag, no details.

Hunter took it cold.

Why would he do that?

$6 million. A big score, Danny. Too bloody big for Hunter.

Yeah. Well, why'd you offer it to him?

He wanted the money and you were out. Remember?

Yeah. Still am. I'm done with killing.

Yeah, well, maybe killing ain't done with you.

Hunter needs the old Danny, the best in the biz.

The one with balls of steel. You remember him, right?

Look, it comes down to this -

you don't do this job, Hunter's a dead man.

They're waiting for you.

(SCREECHES)

This way.

SHEIKH: He's waiting for his eyes to adjust.

Be careful around this one, boy.

My son forgets the ways of the desert.

Since our war against the Sultan,

all he has had of his homeland is this paint.

Plaster.

My first son, Hussein, was slaughtered here.

(EXPLOSION)

(SCREAMING)

Shot before his children.

And here, at the Battle of Mirbat,

his brother, Salim, was wounded and then killed.

Murdered.

And then my third son was taken from me.

Ali.

(GUNFIRE)

Hunted down and slaughtered.

The law of the desert says the blood of the victim

must be washed away by the blood of the killers,

but I refused revenge

and saved my last son, Bakhait, from the war.

So I was exiled to this desert.

I have wealth, power, but rich men die too.

When I die, I want Bakhait to go home to my tribe.

But for that to happen,

the killers of my sons must be killed.

You don't need me or Hunter for this.

You've got all the men you need.

What use would my men be in England?

England?

The English sent their fiercest dogs

to kill for the Sultan's oil.

The SAS?

Yes, their glorious special forces.

It was a war!

It was not England's war!

They came to my land, murdered my sons,

now they will face my law!

The doctors say I have six months left to live.

You must avenge my sons before I die,

or your friend will die with me.

I don't care how you kill the killers,

but they will admit their guilt on tape.

And their deaths must look like accidents.

This must not lead back to my son.

So go.

Show the English a war isn't over till both sides say it is.

(COUGHS)

I want to see Hunter.

Oh, Danny.

No, Danny. No, no, no, no.

What are you doing here? Get out of here.

You alright?

Am I alright? Yeah, I'm alright. You got to go.

Get away from here. Go, go, go, go.

I'm not here for you, anyway.

I was thinking about the girls and Celine.

Me too, me too.

What's that supposed to mean?

It's tough putting food on the table.

What are you feeding them? Six million, no questions?

Well...

You must've known that was a bullshit job.

Yeah, I know. Fucking SAS, a one-way ticket for sure.

Well, you took the job and I'm not leaving you here.

Hey!

Get this man a drink.

I missed you.

Well, I didn't miss you.

Every day you were out of this game was a good day for me.

I was proud of you when you got out.

Stay out.

Too late.

You should have stayed away.

Or run faster.

(METALLIC CLANG, KEYS JANGLE)

(SPITS)

(MEN SPEAK IN OTHER ROOM)

(GUNSHOT)

Sonofabitch.

What are you doing?

Let me get my watch back.

(MEN SPEAK LOUDLY)

Go! Go!

Go! Go! Get the door.

Get the door!

Give me the gun!

(SLOW CLAPPING)

(CHUCKLES) Bravo. Bravo.

If you need to be shot, I'll happily oblige.

I'm sorry, kiddo.

My father needs him alive.

Nice try. You know they'd have found you.

Everybody gets found.

Oh! Agh!

You knew!

My gut tells me you knew the target

and you knew Hunter wouldn't take it.

You used him as bait.

That's a lot of angles, Danny. You think I'm that smart?

Get out.

And you, out.

WOMAN: We missed you at the dance last night.

DANNY: I'm not much of a dancer.

Besides, I'm still trying to find out

how much house is under this.

Right. Big plans.

Yeah, maybe too big.

You don't remember me, do you?

Yeah, well. It's been a while.

I'm Anne Frazer.

(LAUGHS)

Anne Frazer? Anne had red hair full of grass.

Yeah!

And weird red gumboots.

With eyes on them. Oh, my God!

MAN: Oi! You owe me 50 quid.

Told you he'd be back, didn't I?

We missed you.

Yeah? Well, here I am.

Alright, then. Do you want some?

Yeah, mate, you still got it. You still got that edge.

You're a real killer!

DANNY: Come on, let's talk.

While you were away, you didn't start a family, did you?

No.

So no-one's depending on you?

Only Hunter.

Only Hunter.

Because, one, you're going after the SAS.

They're a paranoid bunch. They always got their back up.

Two. You need info on Oman. No-one talks about Oman.

They went in there as advisers

and ended up fighting the fucking war.

Real hush-hush, semi-mercenary stuff.

Three. You need confessions.

They're trained to resist torture,

so no matter what you say or do, they'll say nothing.

And four, Danny,

this is the best Special Forces regiment in the world.

They make the Navy SEALs look like a bunch of cupcakes

and not only that,

you're trying to take down three of their geezers

and make it look like an accident.

All I'm asking is give it some thought.

Take a day, more if you want. I'm going, anyway.

Course I'm in, you silly bastard.

It's what we do, right?

Anyway, I got a score to settle with them.

I tried out for them when I was in the Paras.

Did Hereford, the whole fucking lot!

What? And they wouldn't have you?

You want this bottle shoved up your ass?

Are you upset? Would you like a lolly?

I'd love a lolly.

- Strawberry or fuck you? - Meier.

In.

Why?

Ah, six million reasons. So what's the split?

After the Agent takes his slice, 50-50 between you two.

MEIER: 50-50? How about you?

I'm in this for Hunter.

How wonderfully touching.

Touching but fucking stupid.

The Sheikh could only ID one of the killers.

I need you to come up with the names on the other two.

DANNY: Start with the one they killed at Mirbat.

So the one target we do have is Steven Douglas Harris.

He stayed on in Oman after the war.

Ended up flying choppers for the Sultan's armed forces.

Great. A juice junkie.

Me and Meier will head there to track him down.

Boys? Danny. Meier.

(MEN SHOUT)

(HELICOPTER WHIRRS OVERHEAD)

What the fuck?!

Piss off! Knock it off! Piss off!

It's Harris!

(HARRIS LAUGHS)

Harris, you prick! Fuck off!

(HARRIS LAUGHS)

Well, I hope the buggers like sand in their burgers, huh?

White Range Rover coming your way. It's Harris.

WOMAN: What are you doing?

(GUNSHOT)

(LAUGHS) Come on, have a go.

- No, I'm not. - Come on!

Have a go. Look, just aim and shoot. Go! Here we go!

Ahh!

Oh, you horny git!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

(WOMAN LAUGHS)

(WOMAN TALKS)

(HARRIS LAUGHS)

(WOMAN SQUEALS)

(WOMAN MOANS)

(HARRIS AND THE WOMAN MOAN PASSIONATELY)

(MEN SING) ♪ My, my, my Delilah

♪ Why, why, why, Delilah... ♪

Hey! (MEN LAUGH)

Alright, ladies, you can throw your knickers if you want!

Go on, you cheeky bugger!

You serve in Oman?

At Mirbat. That was a day, wasn't it?

What about Mirbat? That was a right mess, eh?

- Wasn't good. - Had a mate there.

(PHONE RINGS)

WOMAN: Go on, get that, quick!

Yeah, alright. Alright.

(BABY CRIES)

Bollocks.

Hello?

MAN: Spikey, it's Bazza.

For God's sake. I'm unplugging that bloody thing next time.

And I mean it.

BAZZA: Yeah, I'm onto this bloke here, right.

He was in the Bear earlier

pumping some SAS lads for info on Mirbat.

Mirbat? And?

He says he's Welsh but he don't sound it.

I don't know, maybe I'm being a bit paranoid, but...

Hey, just 'cause you're being paranoid

doesn't mean to say they're not out to get you.

Alright, mate.

- Give me what you got. - OK.

I'll put one of my locals onto him.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOGS BARK)

(BEEPING)

SPIKE: The Omani Embassy.

Our local followed him into the visa section.

Says he's Welsh. Calls himself Mr Jones.

We lost him after he left.

Lost him. How come?

He never came back to his car. Stolen.

Anyhow, he flies to Oman in four days.

I'd like permission to send one of my boys out there

to tail him.

This was definitely some kind of recce.

That was a dirty war. What we did there was questionable.

Oman is a bloody hornet's nest.

And if this bugger is poking at it, I want to know who he is.

I say we send a local. Any objections?

Noted. We'll leave you to choose the right man.

I'd also like it noted that we are ex-SAS.

The men we protect are ex-SAS.

And you, Spike, though you hate to admit it, are ex-SAS.

MAN: Remember, we're businessmen and bankers now.

What we do here is illegal.

We can leave no trace of our activities.

That's why we're called the Feathermen.

Because our touch... (CHUCKLES) ..is light.

MAN 2: Our Spike's a good man.

The day the SAS lost him, they lost a good soldier.

MAN 3: Yes, but the problem is he thinks he's still in the SAS.

Well, someone has to do the dirty work.

None of us want blood on our pinstripes.

Listen, I've got no problem with blood. What worries me is ink.

Make sure he keeps us out of the newspapers.

MAN: What's doing, boss?

Your Arabic's still good, right?

- Good enough. - You're going to Oman.

I've got a bloke I want you to tail out there.

SPIKE: You lucky bastard.

(WOMAN CHAT)

MAN: You know what? You're gorgeous.

(LAUGHS)

Where you staying?

I'm staying at the Hilton.

As a matter of fact, so am I. What room are you in?

Why, would you like to know?

Love to know.

You are smooth.

(BOTH LAUGH)

MAN: What are we doing out here then, in the middle of nowhere?

MEIER: Well, I ask him to go hide it, he hides it.

Could have been your asshole. Consider yourself lucky.

Shut it, Meier.

Appreciate it, thank you.

These tiles are an exact match to the shower step?

100%.

Harris comes home, parks the car.

"It's a hot day. I'll have a shower." Whoops!

He slips on the shampoo.

Hits the corner of the step with his occiput. Case closed.

Get out of it.

You boys are going about this all wrong.

That bird he's screwing is married.

Why don't we just pop 'em both

and make it look like her husband did it?

Pop 'em both? What's she ever done?

It's Harris we're after.

Poor bastard.

10 years after the war, he cops it

for doing something he was ordered to do.

He knew what he was doing when he joined the club.

Yeah. What club?

The killing club.

Could be you or me.

Yeah, but it's not. I'm just glad I never killed a raghead.

No offence, my son.

Let's get this done.

MEIER: Excuse my friend. He's a royal asshole.

Shit!

Where's he gonna run? It's the middle of the fucking desert.

(GUNSHOT) - Son of a...

Meier! Cut him off at the next shaft! Let's go! Let's go!

Where is he?

Shh.

(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)

Argh! Ugh! Get out of here! Fucking hell! Argh!

MEIER: So what, now somebody's on our ass?

DANNY: We should move right away.

I'll set up Harris's interview for tomorrow.

Davies, you make sure his girl doesn't show.

She has nothing to do with this.

(CAMERA CLICKS THREE TIMES)

(BELL RINGS)

Wanker!

(AIR HISSES)

DANNY: We're military historians.

I'll do the talking, alright?

Well, it's five o'clock somewhere, isn't it?

So, where's this documentary going to be shown, then?

On the telly?

The chair.

Those bastards in C Company put this together, hmm?

(LAUGHS)

What's the matter? They didn't like sand in their burgers. Eh?

Hello, boys! I'm not saying a word till I see my lawyer.

Think back. The village of Qum.

You killed a guerilla commander.

His name was Hussein bin Amr. Do you admit it?

Fuck off! You're kidding, right?

You commanded a company there.

Aye, I led a company on that op, sure.

Yeah, you assassinated Hussein bin Amr. There were witnesses.

You dropped him in front of his family.

Alright, you got me. I did it!

Hmm? Fuck you! Good one!

Now untie me!

Get up.

Hey! Piss off!

We have what we need.

What if I told you

somebody else dropped your guerilla commander?

His name is?

I can't remember.

But he's writing a book about the whole Oman gig.

You might find it in there. If you could read. (LAUGHS)

To the bathroom.

No, no, no. No, no, no. Wait, wait, wait!

It's coming back to me, looking at your fucking face!

His name's Captain R. Sole!

A-R-S-E-H-O-L-E!

Shut up.

You're fucking dead, yeah?

On your knees!

Fucking queers! Serve you fucking right!

Head down.

Get your fucking hands off me! You're fucking kidding me!

DANNY: Hold him still.

I find you, I'll put your fucking head in the toilet.

Poor fucker.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Jay, I need money for the taxi.

I had to take a taxi. I had a flat.

Come on!

HARRIS: Fuck you! Aagh! (GUNSHOT)

(METAL ROD CLANGS)

Case closed.

Thank you.

RADIO: ..tells of a dramatic 12-hour rescue operation

to save the crew of Radio Caroline.

The pirate radio ship sank the...

(TURNS RADIO OFF)

Seems your friend did what you couldn't.

Wouldn't.

BAKHAIT: Wouldn't. Couldn't. He has avenged Hussein.

Good news for the old man. Not for you.

What do you mean?

Three brothers dead, rotting in the sand.

You didn't want to get revenge yourself?

Scared of getting your hands dirty?

Better get used to it. No palace where you're going.

A tent and a hole to shit in.

He's your worst nightmare, because he's gonna do it.

And when he does, you're outta here.

And when I find you in that desert,

I pray God keeps my aim...

..true.

(HAMMERING)

(HAMMERING CONTINUES)

Well, what do you think?

Yeah, it's coming along.

What are you doing for New Year's Eve dinner?

Oh, shit!

(LAUGHS)

Bollocks!

(LAUGHS)

Strangers are a bit of an exotic thing around here.

Oh, come on. I didn't think I was a stranger.

But you're still exotic.

Danny, something tells me you've got a story to tell.

Yeah.

Mmm. (LAUGHS)

(DANNY LAUGHS)

(TWO GUNSHOTS)

(GUNSHOTS)

Come on. What are you waiting for? Party's outside.

(GUNSHOTS)

MAN: Happy New Year!

(WHOOPING)

Happy New Year.

It's a tradition around here.

Happy New Year.

(DOGS BARK)

Shit.

Mirbat. The artist's name is on the back. Have them talk to him.

One more thing. My boys had some trouble in Oman.

Somebody was tailing them.

We'll have to have a look into that, won't we?

Yeah.

Hmm.

Ah, that's how you get it so lifelike, then.

Sorry?

Photos of the lads. Isn't that like cheating?

I'm recreating an historical event. Accuracy's everything.

Hmm. That Mirbat painting stopped me cold when I saw it.

You were at Mirbat?

Had a mate there.

I was hoping you might have an address for him.

You with the SAS?

Was.

Your best bet for an address

would be Regimental Association...

They won't talk to me.

I spent the last few years plying my trade overseas.

Angola and that. I come to you unofficial-like.

Ah.

Well, I, uh...might have something somewhere.

Just give me a few minutes.

Be my guest.

I've got a bullshitter asking about Mirbat.

Yeah, claims he's with the Regiment.

No, there's no way he was SAS.

Yeah, I can smell it off him. Nah, he's a bloody fake!

Argh! Argh!

(PHONE DROPS) - Argh!

SPIKE: My contact says the call was cut off,

but Gowling said that there was somebody there

asking about Mirbat.

It has to be our guy.

And what would you have us do about it?

Find him - if we don't, there's gonna be another murder

and it'll be one of our Mirbat boys.

Then who are they?

Well, they're pros, for sure.

If these guys are going after the SAS,

they're going to be top-class, professional assassins.

They must have a string of hits behind them,

but they're completely under the radar.

All we've got is Oman.

Oman?

We all know our people went too far.

Oman. Mirbat. It all needs to be left alone.

You should try telling that to the Welshman.

He's right.

We have to find this phoney Welshman and his crew.

DAVIES: The file says an SAS officer killed the Sheikh's son

at the Battle of Mirbat.

Warwick Steven Cregg.

He was the only officer there that night.

Killed everything that moved. He's our worst nightmare.

A real hot shot. Paintings of him. The lot.

Where'd you get this?

The bloke who did the paintings.

Don't you worry about that, alright?

He's shuffled off this mortal coil.

That wasn't part of the deal.

Shit happens when you play in the deep end of the pool.

Why can't you two stick to the plan, huh?

You've been watching this Cregg. What's your next big idea?

His wife's in hospital.

When he's not training for the selection march,

he spends most days there.

MEIER: So why don't we hit him there?

DANNY: No. Not near his family.

Get me everything you know on that march.

We'll see where that goes.

OK, so there's only four Mirbat survivors in Britain.

I've got locals on the other three. You get the celebrity.

Warwick Cregg? You're kidding.

Wish I was.

DAVIES: Welcome to hell. The SAS selection march.

41 miles, 55 pounds of gear.

They lose someone every couple of years.

Don't you even think about it.

Why not?

During the march, this place is crawling with SAS.

Yeah, you said it yourself

it's an accident waiting to happen.

How are you going to catch him, then?

He's been training for months. He's like a greyhound.

Just have to slow him down, won't we?

Insulin, chlorpropamide.

Initial here.

Anything doing?

No. Cregg's still in there with his missus.

Here, boss. This'll keep you going.

Cheers.

Pennock! I need you back here, mate. Pronto.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(WOMEN SCREAM)

What are you doing?!

(HORN HONKS)

Fuck.

(HORN HONKS)

Get out of my fucking way!

WOMAN: He's a maniac!

WOMAN: Watch out!

MAN: Unbelievable.

DANNY: Argh!

(ALARM RINGS)

Ohh!

(GROANS)

(ALARM CONTINUES RINGING)

MEIER: You wouldn't fucking believe it.

Somebody was watching Cregg.

- What? - Mmm.

Think he's from the same stable as the shooter in the desert?

Maybe. He was good. But whoever he is, he's too late.

Ah good, good.

Chroma slows him down, insulin sends him into shock.

Hypothermia to you.

And when were you planning on getting it to him?

Before the march.

How? It's an SAS base, Danny.

That you trained in.

So think back - the security layout, the lot.

You're nuts.

Are you going to do it?

Man, you really are one crazy sonofabitch, Danny.

(ROCK MUSIC)

Clock's ticking. You've got under a minute, alright?

SONG: ♪ Breakin' rocks in the hot sun

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I needed money 'cause I had none... ♪

We got company.

♪ ..the law won, I fought the law and the law won

♪ I left my baby and it feels so bad... ♪

Lovely night.

You can't stop here, mate.

I didn't stop. The truck did!

If you don't fucking move it, we will!

Alright, but it's pissing oil. Nothing I could do about it.

Turn off the bloody radio.

MAN: Where's your gear?

SERGEANT 1: Right! On the trucks!

SERGEANT 2: I don't care what regiment you're from.

I don't care how great you think you are.

Let's see what you're made of, ladies. On the trucks.

SERGEANT 2: Come on. Get moving, you lot.

He only got half the dose! Is it enough?

Enough? He's a dead man walking! Stay on him, OK?

DANNY ON VIDEO: His name was Salim bin Amr.

Do you remember the name?

Did you kill him? Think back. Did you kill him, Major?

CREGG: Yeah, I did it. I did the bastard. So bloody what?

Danny didn't want to do this.

And your boy doesn't want to go back to the desert.

(CREGG SHOUTS ON VIDEO)

(CREGG SCREAMS)

TV: The Ministry of Defense today announced the death

of an army officer during maneuvers.

The 33-year-old, Major Warwick Steven Cregg, died of exposure

during an SAS exercise on the Brecon Beacons.

Weather conditions at the time were described as appalling...

(ROCK MUSIC)

(MUSIC STOPS) - MAN: Hey, hey.

(NEWSREADER CONTINUES TALKING ON TV)

Show a bit of respect, lads.

Top that.

I come bearing gifts.

DANNY: Oi!

From my boys in Angola.

(LAUGHS)

I have no idea how you're meant to eat this.

So...

So...who's on our ass?

I'm on it. Don't worry. Look, there's only one more to go.

After this is done,

I'll get you boys a nice cushy job in the sun, hmm?

There is no "after this".

I'm a vulture. I live off killers.

Gives me a unique perspective.

Have you heard of the 2%?

That's you, Davies, the SAS. All you lot.

Mercenaries, hit men, heroes.

You're all part of that 2% of men who are natural killers.

That's why you'll never get out.

You can't run away from who you are, Danny.

That's not who I am. That's what I've done.

And I can do something else.

Yeah, yeah.

That's all nice and good,

but let's just take care of business first, shall we?

Your third target, Major Simon McCann.

Mad Simon McCann of late.

DANNY: How'd you find him?

Asked around. It was easy.

These days he's your basic cash-for-trash mercenary.

He's a sitting duck.

Now, didn't I tell you I came bearing gifts?

You know where to find me.

DAVIES: You don't trust that snake, do you? He's lying.

Yeah? How do you know?

His lips were moving.

He just gave us a third target.

You've done nothing on that last file.

Someone's onto us!

I want Hunter out of there. I want this finished!

And I want to be around to enjoy the money when it is!

Well, the first thing you should buy is a pair of balls.

We're going after McCann. Alright?

(DOG BARKS)

ANNE: I miss you.

There's a lot I don't know about you

but I do know that much.

I convince myself that everything's OK,

because when I'm with you, I'm happy.

But then you go away and I realize

that I know nothing about you.

I don't know where you go and I don't know what you do.

I mean, you've got a whole other life, Danny.

Is there someone else?

Come on, Anne.

Well, then, what is it?

I mean, Jesus, what are you not telling me?

What are you hiding?

Can we talk about this when I get back?

To hell with it.

(SIGHS)

Fuck!

What?

You show me a beautiful woman

and I'll show you a bloke that's sick of her shit.

Shut up.

Roger that.

(MEN LAUGH AND TALK)

DANNY: That him? DAVIES: That's him.

Major Simon McCann.

Served in the Sultan's forces

till he was pensioned out four years ago.

(CAN RATTLES)

And another!

Oi! What the fuck do you think you're doing?

MAN: Piss off, Grandpa.

McCANN: You want some?

Ooh!

DANNY: Doesn't look like an invalid.

DAVIES: Like I said, a bomb went off under his jeep.

Scrambled his wiring.

He can't keep a job. He's a fucking psycho.

Aargh!

Jesus.

Argh! (LAUGHS) Mate, I'm good.

Come on, mate. That's enough.

What's he doing here?

He's the one I went head to head with at the hospital.

Right.

Wait, wait, wait.

Let's go. Stick with him.

(KID SHOUTS)

(KID MAKES GUNFIRE NOISES)

Mac, it's me. You OK?

McCANN: Oh, yeah.

Still scraping skinheads off my doorstep. (LAUGHS)

Alright, mate. I was just, uh...just checking in.

Bloke who drives that green Jag. What's his name?

AGENT: His name's Spike Logan.

He's an ex-soldier of some kind.

He got his eye shot out playing hero somewhere.

He's got no job and he keeps odd hours.

Hmm.

Don't you know who these guys are?

I mean, secrets being your bread and butter.

Don't worry about it.

I do worry about it. You should too.

Every move my guys make, these lot are waiting.

If you ask me, I think it's time

you put those fancy shoes of yours on a few throats.

Yes. But no-one is asking you.

DAVIES: You'll be interviewing

for a security position, Mr McCann.

McCANN: Right.

We got your name through a mutual friend in the SAS.

Yeah, really?

So we'll see you Tuesday, the 17th, at 10:00?

OK.

We look forward to it.

See you then.

Alright, my son. He'll be there.

Good.

I don't get it.

McCann lives here.

He'll be here for the interview, Tuesday at 10:00.

He'll take this road.

The Boston Brakes! Perfect!

They weren't perfect in Boston.

I wasn't at the controls!

Got 10 days.

10 days?

Quicker we get this done, the better.

I'm going to need to bring in some help.

OK.

DAVIES: OK? Just like that? McCann's being watched.

How you going to get a confession out of him?

We aren't. We'll fake it.

Bit of bad lighting and camera work. You can be him.

What we'll do is play back what he admitted to in the reports.

Who are you?

I'm the one they let fly around in an unmarked chopper

with a gun in my pocket.

You can call me Mfwic.

Mfwic?

Mother Fucker What's In Charge.

We have questions about this little illegal club of yours.

The Feathermen.

Your attack dog - time to bring him to heel, eh?

And then we'll put that on the agenda.

Gentlemen.

We'll be with you in a minute.

I want to put locals on Major McCann around the clock.

I realize McCann is an old friend of yours.

But what has he to do with us?

But this is our chance to get the bastards

who killed Cregg and Harris!

The authorities found no evidence of foul play

in either case.

What are you talking about, "no evidence"?

I've got the evidence right here.

Everybody in this room knows that those men were killed.

Everybody knows that McCann is going to be next!

That's enough, Spike.

We have to do something!

We could put it to the vote.

Yes, but that would require the full committee,

and...it'll have to wait.

- Spike! - That was a set-up!

He sent him away! He knew there'd be a vote!

Spike, please!

Look, listen. This is getting big.

The powers that be are asking questions.

Pressure is being applied.

They have their reputations to protect.

I'm not doing this to protect reputations.

You know, a light touch is one thing.

But no touch at all? I can't do this.

You realize this thing is set up for maximum deniability?

You're the only one who knows the locals.

All their orders come through you.

So?

So...this comes out, you're the one who takes the fall.

Fall? From where?

I am done with this whole committee thing.

I'm going to find him.

MEIER: He's a good kid, don't worry. I'm shtupping his mum.

DAVIES: Does he know he can't bring his mum on the job?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

DAVIES: Tell your mates in Oman I said hello.

Danny, is this what it was like when you were first starting?

This is your first job? Jesus.

My first time, I puked for a day afterwards.

I was young and dumb. Just the way the army likes 'em.

I can be good at this, man. I mean, it's easy, yeah?

Killing's easy.

Living with it's the hard part.

MAN: If I see him, I'll give you a bell.

SPIKE: Don't be shy about spreading the word.

There's a very tidy finder's fee.

I'll keep my eyes peeled.

One more and we'll call it a night.

We're on.

MEIER: He's late.

Just keep me at 75 feet and give me a clear line of sight.

Yeah, OK.

Where'd you buy your license?

On his tail. Doing 60.

You'll have a visual on Danny in one minute.

Stay with him, Jake.

I got him, I got him.

We have target in sight.

JAKE: I'm going to miss it. Come on, get in!

Get in behind him! Just do it, get in!

There's not enough room! Push him!

I can't get in there! OK, then, overtake him! Go!

Pass him!

DAVIES: What the hell you doing, Meier?

MEIER: I need a range countdown.

DAVIES: Meier, don't screw this up.

I'll operate looking backwards!

DANNY: Relax, Meier. Davies will give you the countdown.

400 meters.

OK, range me.

300 meters.

Outside lane, Meier.

200 meters.

Here he comes.

100 meters.

(HORN HONKS)

- Now! Now, now, now! - Shut up!

Now, Meier!

Fishtail! Fishtail!

Argh!

Oh! Oh!

You fucking got him. You got him, man.

MEIER: Oh, fuck, he's dead. He's dead as Elvis.

You got him, man!

Stop the car! We gotta be sure Elvis has left the building.

DAVIES: Target had a minder. Head to the exit point!

Bring him to me!

He had a fucking minder!

Fuck, you got him, man! You got him!

Just shut up! Drive! Go, go, go!

Who is he?

I don't know. Give me an update, Davies.

Oh, man, he's coming fast.

Up here there's a yard. Take a left.

Up here on the left. Keep going!

Hold on.

Come in, Davies.

Davies, where the fuck are you?

Got you, you bastards!

Fuck this! Go, go!

Here he comes. Here he comes!

Get out of the car! Where the fuck do you guys come from?

- Step away from the car. - Easy.

- Jake! - Yeah?

Take it easy.

Check the car! Slowly!

- No, no, no! - Argh!

No! (GUNSHOT)

(RETCHES)

DAVIES: No ID. Nothing. Not a fucking thing.

DANNY: Who the fuck is he?

It shouldn't have happened.

It should not have fucking happened!

Take it easy, Danny.

Take it easy? We were out of there, clean! Done.

(MAN SPEAKING ON RADIO)

MAN: Look, I'm getting nothing. Campbell's not picking up.

Fuck!

Who are these bastards?

I don't know, but they're looking for their man.

And they're not legit.

Jake, call this number.

Tell the Agent we need a clean-up crew here ASAP.

And wire that radio into my car.

Gimme here!

So that's it, then.

Yeah. Done.

I'll fly out tonight.

You should get going too. They're close.

What happens to Meier's cut?

There has to be somebody.

Poor sod. I'll have a hooker for him. He'd like that.

Yeah.

Be safe.

You too, Davies.

(SLAMS DOOR)

PENNOCK: I'm sorry.

We're still looking for Campbell, but it looks bad.

(MEN LAUGH IN OTHER ROOM)

(DOG BARKS)

Thank you, sir. If there's anything else...

Room service. Something exotic.

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah?

MAN: I found your Welshman.

You sure it's him?

I'm sure.

(WOMAN SCREAMS)

Fucking hell!

Get up. Get dressed. Move! Get up!

Don't say a word to anyone. Do you understand?

You killed Simon McCann, didn't you?

Yeah, and Campbell! Where is he, you fucker?!

Never heard of him!

That all you got?

Yeah, Spike. We got the Welshman.

We're bringing him to you now. Over.

SPIKE: Nice work, Pennock. Well done.

I'm looking forward to meeting the bastard.

Urgh!

Spike's gonna cut your dick off and shove it in your mouth.

- You like that? - I like the sound of that.

- Do you? - Yeah, I do.

Get in the van. Get in.

Come on. Get in.

Fuck me, you're kidding. Come on, get in!

There you are, you prick.

Oi!

(HORN HONKS)

MAN: Get out of the road, you fucking idiot!

- Open up! - Piss off!

Oi! Oi wait!

Boss.

What am I meant to do with that?

He had this on him.

Oh, a phone number. Great work.

That pile of mincemeat was our best chance

of finding out who these bastards are!

Print him. And trace that bloody number.

You fucking idiots!

(HELICOPTER WHIRRS OVERHEAD)

DANNY: Drop it.

Left hand. The gun. On the floor.

Kick it to me.

(KICKS GUN)

The Welshman. They were bringing him to you. Where is he?

He didn't make it.

You? You do it?

A truck. He made a break for it. He got lucky.

It would've been very slow otherwise.

Yeah, well, that was my fucking friend!

Yeah? And McCann was mine. And what about fucking...

Campbell?

No.

Davies. Meier. Harris.

McCann. Cregg. Campbell.

Too many names on that list.

Don't go adding yours, Spike.

Inside.

Who are you?

Doesn't matter. After tonight, I don't exist.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

It's over. Done.

You think so?

No uniform. No war. Not special.

You don't know what to do with yourself.

Nobody knows what to do with you. Right?

Wrong. You know my name, but you don't know me.

You have no idea who you're fucking with.

Really?

Don't follow me. Don't put your name on that list.

(DOOR OPENS)

The third confession.

(COUGHS SOFTLY)

(COUGHS) The killers have been killed. Now you can go home.

BAKHAIT: You can have your man.

You will get the money when it's been checked.

Bring him out.

Bring him out!

Let me put... I just want to put my watch on.

What's the matter with you? You alright?

Yeah. What's the plan?

We get out of here.

OK. Sounds good.

I was sure you were gonna get yourself killed, kiddo.

How the hell did you do it? How'd you pull it off?

I don't want to talk about it.

I get it. Thank you. Not for me, but for my kids.

For them having a dad.

I can never thank you enough for what you did. Never.

Yeah, you can. You can get out of the business.

Be done with this shit. No more soldiering.

No more mercenary work.

Alright. OK, OK.

I'm asking you, please. Tell me you're done.

I'm done. I'm out.

Good. Well, stay out. Otherwise all this is for nothing.

So, how are the Yankees doing?

ANNE: You could've called.

You wouldn't have answered.

No. Sorry about that.

You're sorry?

It's me who should be sorry.

So it's over? You going back again?

No.

And you're ready to tell me everything?

Whatever you want to know.

Good.

Except I don't want to know. Not anymore.

I've...I've missed you, Danny.

I don't really care about the past. I just care about now.

Hey, boss.

Alright, Cal?

That phone number. That was a business.

It's for some shit travel agent.

Runs mercenaries in and out of every shit-hole in the world.

Come in.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

AGENT: Hello, Danny.

How'd you get this number?

Please, Danny, don't insult my professionalism.

What do you want?

We got a problem with the job.

The job's done.

No. You killed the wrong guy. There's one more to go.

I busted my nuts setting this job up and I want my 10%.

No. I did what I had to do.

Tell that to the Sheikh.

He wants a London meet with his son.

Check with your girlfriend

before you make any rash decisions, eh?

(HANGS UP)

(DOG BARKS)

What are you doing? Come to bed.

Come with me, Anne.

What?

To Paris. You can wait for me there while I'm in London.

Leave tomorrow. Nothing's keeping you here, right?

I... It's the middle of the night. You can't do this...

Anne! They know about you.

Who knows about me?

And about us.

(BELL RINGS)

When will this be over?

Soon.

If all goes well.

It will, won't it?

(DOOR CLOSES)

Danny.

Keep a good eye on her, huh?

Listen, don't do this on your own.

No other way.

Davies? Meier? All this heat on you? Come on.

Let's just get in the car and go to London, hit the airport.

No. We have a deal, remember?

What, do you think I can't cut this? Is that it?

I mean, I'm not a babysitter. Come on.

I need to know she's safe. You're the only one I trust.

This is bullshit. You could run. Both of you. Go. Come on.

Everyone gets found. You know that.

You're gonna get yourself killed, kiddo.

Thanks for doing this.

You got to be kidding me.

Welcome back to London, sir.

Thank you.

(WOMAN LAUGHS)

Ohh!

You tell the old man he threatens her again,

I'll put it between his eyes.

Harris. The pilot.

On his film, he said another soldier killed my brother.

He was winding us up. He thought it was some kind of a joke.

This was just published. The author served with the SAS.

He describes an ambush where he killed a guerilla leader.

Harris did not kill Hussein.

You gave me his name. You said he was guilty.

Well, such is Allah's will.

Allah's will! You had me kill an innocent man.

The book will be the real killer's confession.

Now my father needs...

I know what your father needs!

I need everything you can get on a Ranulph Fiennes.

Yeah, writer. Ex-SAS.

(PHONE RINGS)

WOMAN: LGM Travel. How can I help you?

What you got?

I got Fiennes. He's still pushing his book on Oman.

He'll be doing a press bash on Tuesday.

Tuesday?

I know it's a bit short notice

but I'll be able to pull a crew together.

No. I'll do this on my own.

Danny, are you sure?

It's just a phone call.

I guess he's sure.

SPIKE: B-I-N-G-fucking-O.

I knew I'd find you, you bastard.

Do you mind if I sit down? You look lonely.

You're Danny's friend.

The famous Hunter.

He say nice things?

What are you doing here?

Watching you.

You should be with him.

I tried. Didn't work. He wanted me here to protect you.

And you looked like you needed protecting.

From what?

You.

You're thinking about him not coming back. What happens then.

No. I...

I have a wife. I know the look.

We've known each other through thick and thin, Danny and I.

Celine, my wife, she loves him. My kids love him.

I mean, wild animals like Danny.

(LAUGHS)

Yeah. I know Danny's gonna come back for you.

And when he does, you're gonna steal him away, huh?

I don't know what the plan is.

Monsieur?

Oui, monsieur?

Bouteille de vin rouge, s'il vous plait?

Tout de suite.

I have a woman to interrogate now.

(LAUGHS)

PENNOCK: Alright, look alive, lads.

Boys.

So this guy is good, very good.

He senses something's up, he runs,

you corner him, he fights.

But now the gloves are off. This all fucking ends today.

Alright, everybody knows the rules.

There are no rules.

(ASHTRAY WHIRRS)

(WHIRRS)

MAN ON RADIO: Boss, he's out front. I think we're on.

This could be him. Black leathers.

Roger that.

He just took the service stairs. It has to be him.

Just hold your positions. We'll know soon enough.

He's down, boss! We got him!

He stays alive, Pennock! Don't you touch him till I'm there!

Stay here!

Stay there, you fucker!

Get his helmet off before he chokes.

(GROANS)

Shit!

Hands high. Against the wall.

OK. Easy with that.

Agh!

Ugh!

(FIRES THREE TIMES)

(CAMERA CLICKS THREE TIMES)

SPIKE: Guys, our man's down. Head for the roof.

(SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS GOING UP STAIRS)

Ugh!

Pennock! Head for the roof.

We're on our way up now, boss. Come on, move!

MAN: He jumped! He jumped!

(SHOOTS THREE TIMES)

Come on, come on! He's on the move. Let's go!

(LOUD CLATTERING NOISE)

Argh!

(GASPS) Oh.

Shh.

Pennock?

Don't you do it.

PENNOCK: There's no sign of him up here, boss.

I can see all the way to the river. He's gone.

(SCREAMS)

Shit.

Move and you're dead!

PENNOCK: Alright. Let's go, let's go.

Get in!

(SIREN WAILS)

(GROANS)

What is this?

That's for Campbell.

And that's for Cregg.

SPIKE: You finished?

We haven't even started!

Take the hood off.

Wait outside, boys.

Save a little bit for us, boss.

(DOOR CLOSES)

So, why is he still alive? Why didn't you kill him?

That what you'd have done? I thought you were the good guys.

Who are you? Who do you work for?

You and I have got a lot in common.

Really? You think so?

So you're sitting there tied to a chair,

and I'm standing here with a gun in my hand.

Now you tell me what the fuck this was all about!

Was?

You think this is over?

There'll be somebody else. Your boy, Fiennes, is going to die.

Argh! Argh!

(GROANS)

Go on! Pull the trigger! Kill me and you kill Fiennes!

They won't stop till they get him!

I stopped you, I'll stop them!

I didn't want to kill him. They will.

You put that in the right hands, this thing's over.

The camera? Why?

Proof. Evidence that he's dead.

It's the only way you'll save him.

You tell me I walk, I tell you who's behind this

and where to find him.

OK. You walk.

Sheikh Amr bin Issa. You'll find him in Oman.

Why?

The war.

They killed three of his sons.

Nuh.

(LAUGHS)

Some good guy, eh?

Drop it.

Inside.

Beside him.

On your knees.

You were set up.

MAN: That's what we love about you lot.

You only care about the action.

Never think about what you might really be fighting for.

Or who.

Never see the big picture.

You're the one that was set up.

He just wouldn't get out of the way.

Her Majesty's Government doesn't like secret societies.

Particularly when they get in the way of our interests.

Do you know how much oil

that pathetic crust of desert is floating on?

Do you know what those contracts are worth?

Three men's lives.

That's right.

That's right.

We deliver the killers, son number four goes home,

and when Sheikhy re-ups the contracts,

we get favorable consideration.

A bargain.

You bastard! You're a...

Patriot.

Who serves his country as those three men did

with their deaths.

As you will with yours.

(WOMAN SCREAMS) - MAN: Oh, holy crap!

(TIRES SKID, HORN HONKS)

What?!

Oi! You! Come back!

(P.A. ANNOUNCEMENT IN FRENCH)

AGENT: There she is.

Danny might have dropped off the radar,

but one thing's for sure, he'll come back for her.

He'll come through that door with $6 million

and she won't be there.

Who don't you screw out of his 10%? Yours truly.

Boss.

Deal with him.

(WHISTLING)

Oh! Agh!

Oh! Argh!

(GROANS)

(GROANS)

It wasn't personal. It's just business.

You played us. I don't care why.

But if ever a lying piece of shit needed killing,

it was you.

Game's over.

You know I wouldn't have hurt her.

I just wanted my cut. She was only collateral.

You go after them, I'll find you.

Remember, everybody gets found. Even you.

HUNTER: You got to get those photos to that old bastard

and finish this thing for good, you hear, kiddo?

That's why I'm here. What about you?

Babysitting's over, kiddo.

Who says?

I say. She's safe. You're the one taking the chances now.

Come on.

Come on? You walked into a trap last time.

You think I'm gonna let you do that again?

I told Anne you're coming back. Wanna make a liar out of me?

You were supposed to be guarding her, not interviewing her.

Well, I was always a sucker for a pretty face, no denying that.

She's a keeper, that's for sure.

She doesn't know, does she?

Some.

Yeah, it's gonna be tough.

My old man used to say

life's like licking honey from a thorn.

Yeah, what does that mean?

Something about good times and bad times.

Seems like it's been all thorns for us lately. Both of us.

Alright. Let's finish this.

I'll be top cover. If anything goes wrong, I'm coming in.

The Sheikh wants this over. It's in, hand over photos and out.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

There isn't gonna be a problem.

From your mouth to God's ears.

Don't move till I give the all clear, OK?

(SCREECHES)

BAKHAIT: Who are you? What do you want?

For the Sheikh.

I have to see it placed in his hands.

Take these to my people. Show them what I have done. (COUGHS)

I have a message for the Sheikh.

He's still alive.

They're fakes.

But this is going to end.

Ugh!

(BIRD SCREECHES)

I don't care.

Huh? What would I do, huh? In that God-forsaken desert!

Have you forgotten something?

(MEN SHOUT)

HUNTER: Hold it, hold it. Stay where you are.

Something's not right here.

You see this?

Yeah, I see it.

(MEN SHOUT)

Looks like we're in the wrong place.

Let's go, let's go!

(MEN SHOUT)

Relax. I only killed the car.

You again.

Back at the palace. What happened in there?

He was there, waiting for a message from you.

I was the messenger.

And?

What do you think?

His boy in there didn't give a shit.

He's not going back to the desert,

so there'll be no oil contracts.

It was all for nothing.

Is that right?

And the winner is...

So that's what this is all about?

Yeah. It's all hookers and blow from here on in.

You just don't get it, do you?

Ditch it.

You sure?

Ditch it.

I gotta cover my expenses.

You can't go back to England. Not after killing that spook.

Who the fuck are you?

Who? Me? The voice of experience.

Where are you gonna go? What are you gonna do?

You're gonna need this.

New name, new face, new papers.

Expensive. You'll see.

Damn shame.

You think you get to just walk away?

Nobody walks away. Not me, you, none of us.

The old man you just killed,

he told me a war isn't over till both sides say it is.

Well, I'm telling you now - this is over for me.

Really? And what? You want me to say, "Me too"?

And then it's happy ever after.

Your choice.

You know, when I got this, they told me my war was over.

I told them they were full of shit. Now I'm telling you.

Let it go.

So, where are you going?

Why? You planning a visit?

You never know.

If you come, I'll be waiting.

We'll call you a cab from the airport.

(ENGINE STARTS)

Hey.

Aren't you Anne Frazer? The girl with those weird gumboots?

Are you Danny Bryce, the boy who went away?

Yeah. I'm back.

Where you headed?

I don't know.

Me neither. Want to come along?