(DOOR OPENS)
(DOOR SHUTS)
We have reason to believe you are not
who you say you are, Mr. Parker.
Your wife and son,
Mr. Leonard Turner, CIA.
I have men posted outside their door,
back in Virginia, United States.
Come again?
For you to get this close,
you must have friends,
informants, collaborators,
inside my organization.
I want their names.
Everybody?
(GRUNTING)
- (GUN SHOT)
- (GROANS)
(SPEAKS INDISTINCT)
You look so stupid
with that pen in your neck.
(MUMBLES INDISTINCT)
Don't ever threaten my family again.
(COUGHING)
(PHONE RINGING)
Go for Robertson.
- MAN: Get over to the house now.
- What?
Get over to my house,
see if everybody's alright.
Get the... Just get the fuck
over there. Stop talking!
Absolutely. I'm on my way.
MAN: Harry, get your mother
and get out of the house. Go. Now!
- Dad?
- Get out of the house!
(GUN SHOT)
HARRY: Mom! Dad, Dad, they shot Mom.
Harry, focus. Go up to my bedroom, okay?
In the top drawer of my dresser,
the left hand side...
- I'm here, Dad. I'm here.
- Open that up.
- Okay.
- Just the way I showed you.
(GUN COCKS)
- DAD: Focus.
- Red means dead.
- He shot Mom!
- Can you get to the bathroom? Go!
- I'm here, Dad. I'm here.
- MAN: The kid!
- MAN 2: I'll take him out.
- (GLASS SHATTERS)
- Dad, I hear them.
- DAD: I know. I know. Harry!
DAD: Just aim along the sights, Harry.
Don't pull it. Just squeeze.
Take the shot! Squeeze the trigger, Harry.
- Take the shot!
- (GUN SHOT)
Harry. It's okay, kid.
It's okay.
Leonard, I'm here. Harry's okay.
(BIRDS SQUAWKING)
Dad.
Not tonight, kid.
I'm joining the agency.
Got my letter today.
They're sending me to Prague.
Congratulations.
Yeah. Uncle Ken thinks it's a good idea.
Uncle Ken's full of ideas.
You still don't think
I can pull the trigger, huh?
I was just a kid.
Yeah.
Thanks for coming out today.
(GUN SHOTS)
- (BUZZER SOUNDS)
- (GROANS)
COMPUTER VOICE:
Reset. Resetting simulation.
You're killing friendlies!
Do it again! Get it right!
Again.
Come on.
(YELLS)
(GRUNTING)
Eyes down range. Acquire and fire.
Go!
(GUN SHOTS)
- (BUZZER SOUNDS)
- (GROANS)
Too slow. Do it again.
(GRUNTS)
(GUN SHOTS)
Even your old man never put
shot groups that tight down range.
Yeah, well...
paper targets don't shoot back.
Spoken like a true Turner.
Come on, kid, you got a letter to open.
Regardless of what it says, I hope you'll
stick around here until your work is done.
- The CONDOR...
- Is the future, the tip of the spear,
the edge of the knife,
the cat's pajamas, whatever.
It's the cat's ass, wise guy.
Let me know which way it falls.
- WOMAN: Good morning, Harry.
- Good morning, Laura.
- What's up, Harry?
- Hey.
- Is that what I think it is?
- You bet your ass it is, buddy.
Why do you keep doing this to yourself?
Four rejections in two years.
Three.
I know you wanna be a field agent
like your dad. I get that.
Now, I've only read your dad's dossier
and case file, I wanna be your dad.
Hell, I wanna... I wanna fuck your dad.
- That's gross.
- I've thought about it.
(EXHALES)
Four.
Four?
Four rejections in two years.
Yeah.
It's not enough, Harry.
We have a working prototype of the CONDOR
being shipped to the United States as we speak.
And proof of at least a dozen encrypted
messages from overseas to the United States
discussing the sale
of a "rare precious bird."
That's not enough?
Look, I'm on plane to Langley
in a half an hour.
In the meantime, find me
some mention of the CONDOR,
or how they plan to acquire
this "rare bird".
Hell, find me the origin
and/or destination of said transmissions,
and I'll run it up the chain ASAP.
In the meantime, we got nothing.
What did your letter say?
It's gonna happen, Harry.
- At this point, I'm not so sure.
- You tell the old man you didn't get in?
Nah. I'm sure he's probably busy
doing something right now.
- This it?
- Yep.
- I thought it'd look different.
- Welcome to the 21st Century.
You telling me the truth?
MAN: We weren't followed. Nobody.
(GUNSHOTS)
Harry! Harry!
Harry! Harry.
It's your dad. It's your dad. I just
got a call. Come on! It's your dad.
Listen up, kids. I want a full stop
on every other goddamn op.
- This gets full priority.
- Director Sitterson?
Oh, Jesus. We're gonna do everything
we can to get your father back, son.
Sir, with your permission,
I'd like to be in the room.
Negative. You're too close to the situation.
Judgment gets all cloudy when you're close.
- Sir...
- Go home, son, alright?
We'll contact you the minute we got
an update on your father's situation.
- He doesn't come inside.
- Copy that, sir.
I want this room shut down
until this situation is fully resolved.
- Already on it, sir.
- Alright. Where's Robertson?
In Langley. We have him covering
our stateside drop.
I don't give a hot wet shit about his drop.
Get him on screen one.
Yes, sir.
Now!
(SATELLITE BEEPING)
MAN: At this point we don't know much,
except that the drop was compromised
and the bird went with him.
My sources tell me Leonard Turner's
- still in and around the Jersey area...
- WOMAN: I'm sorry, gentlemen.
- Mr. Robertson, you're needed immediately.
- Where?
In the conference link.
Sitterson is waiting.
- Okay, Purvis, keep digging.
- I'm on it, sir.
- Dude, this is crazy.
- You do it all the time, Darryl.
Yeah, on like Czech porn stars' phones,
not on high-ranking CIA officials.
It's for my dad.
(BEEPING)
I've got Robertson.
Oh. Hey, Ken.
- Sitterson.
- Higgins, from the top.
Leonard Turner, former clandestine
service officer and field operative,
went missing this morning
in Newark, New Jersey.
- You're in.
- KEN: You said "former."
HIGGINS: Yes, sir. They pulled him
from the field due to his antics,
he was three weeks before retirement.
What the hell was he doing in Newark,
New Jersey, on a Level 1 assignment?
- I can answer that.
- Oh, good. Please, Ken. Enlighten us.
Leonard and I go way back.
I knew the Agency was looking to railroad
him and that retirement would kill him.
So I gave him one last shot at field work,
and I requested his participation.
- In order to...?
- In order to secure the CONDOR prototype,
and escort it back
to DARPA HQ in Arlington.
When he didn't report in, I initiated
the protocol for a missing agent.
(CHUCKLES)
So you... so you sent a washed-up,
skid mark of an agent to secure the CONDOR?
That "skid mark", nice term
of endearment, by the way,
is the best goddamn field operative
the agency's ever produced.
Oh, yeah, apparently not.
Okay. Continue Higgins.
Approximately, sixty minutes
after Agent Turner went missing,
the CONDOR went active.
Okay. So, for those of us who didn't grow up
jerking off to some science magazine,
can you please explain to me
the significance of this latest revelation?
In layman's terms, Director Sitterson,
the CONDOR is the ultimate hack,
allowing whoever has it,
complete control over any
government's major communications.
- How long do we have?
- 24 hours from the moment CONDOR goes active.
- Why 24 hours?
- (DOOR OPENS)
Because it takes 24 hours for the CONDOR
to go active and hack all the programs.
- That's Internet, nuclear platforms, GPS...
- Okay. He can stay.
How did you do that?
(BEEPING)
A smart boy.
We'll talk about this later on.
What's the fallout?
If the CONDOR comes online and the government's
affected trace it back to us, at best,
- we lose their trust.
- At worst?
They see it as an act of war.
Look, is there any way
to reverse the activation?
Yes. My team developed a Patriarch Key.
It'll decompile the entire system,
but it has to be physically uploaded
onto the CONDOR. Cannot be done remotely.
Alright. Get me this Patriarch Key,
and I'll ensure that it gets hand-delivered
to our lead agent
who's already on the ground.
Agent, sir? As in singular?
This gets out it's a PR nightmare
for the agency.
The way it is now, technically,
it's FBI jurisdiction,
which we are not so subtly
pissing all over.
It's just better that we keep
as low a profile as possible.
Alright, this is a need-to-know
basis, alright?
None of this goes out
of this room. Understood?
- Understood? Thank you.
- ALL: Yes, sir!
- Any leads at the moment?
- None.
- One.
- What's this?
It's a starting point. I brought some of this
stuff to Agent Robertson a few days ago.
He said it wasn't enough to make a case.
So I dove back in.
I did a comprehensive search
of any suspected terrorists,
black market dealers entering
the United States in the past 72 hours...
- and I came up with this.
- The Ciocan?
Mm, remnants of the Bucharest's
dissolved Camataru Clan.
Now, they've been on our radar since '07.
They have a small faction operating
in the southeastern United States.
We have a positive ID on Drake entering
the US via Hartsfield, Jackson two days ago.
There's also been a number of coded
messages originating in Bucharest,
talking about the sale of a "rare bird",
which I assume is code for the CONDOR.
As I told Agent Turner, sir,
this is largely circumstantial.
Yeah. Well, still, it's the only lead
we have at the moment.
Alright. We'll take it
from here, Agent Turner.
Agent Higgins, would you escort
Agent Turner to his apartment
- and see that he stays there?
- Sir, I wanna be a part of this.
You wanna be allowed
to go stateside immediately.
- Yes, sir.
- Well, your request is denied.
Look, your goal
is to get your father back.
My goal is to protect the free world.
I can't have your personal agenda
jeopardizing the mission.
- Those goals, director, are one in the same.
- Time's up, kid. Let's go.
All right, don't worry.
We're gonna call you
the minute we have
any information about your father.
Who's the agent on ground?
Agent Victoria Phair.
Welcome to Newark, New Jersey.
You've been briefed?
I know the what. I don't know the who.
Is there a problem, Agent Phair?
No, no problem.
I just think you should know
I have history with Turner's son.
I wouldn't exactly call "fucking
while you were at the Academy"
a relationship, Agent Phair.
The Agency is fully aware of your
"relationship" with Leonard Turner's son.
That plus the fact that you've lived
in Jersey, went to college here,
and have an exemplary track
record in the field to date,
you have the perfect alibi to be
operating in and around the area.
Now I'm sure I don't need to reiterate
how important it is for a CIA operative
to not get caught operating
on domestic soil.
It would be a shitstorm
of epic proportions if the FBI,
or any other three-letter acronym,
were to discover your presence here
as anything other than...
a friendly familial visit.
I'm guessing this is the Patriarch Key?
Correct.
Now, according to Sitterson,
you install it directly into the CONDOR.
It is the only way to stop the program
once it's been activated.
Anything else?
Harry, I'm sorry about the way
this is going down.
- (THUNDER RUMBLES)
- Me too.
(GRUNTING)
- Hold him down!
- (CHOKING)
- You've got... to fucking... chill!
- (TIRES SCREECHING)
- (SPEAKS INDISTINCT)
- (HORN HONKS)
- Son of a...
- (HORN HONKING)
(THUNDER RUMBLES)
How the hell does a pencil-pushing desk
jockey take out four highly-trained agents?
Harry Turner's been training to be an agent
since the day his mother was murdered.
SITTERSON: I'm looking at this guy's file,
and it says he was passed over
for clandestine service... four times.
But... I don't know
how "high-speed" he can be.
The only reason he's not a field agent yet
is because his father's
been calling in favors for years,
getting senior leadership to deny
his applications. He's good.
- What you got?
- DARRYL: First and foremost, watch your ass.
Sitterson's gunning for you.
And Higgins is pissed.
- Hard to blame him.
- I tapped into the Police Department files,
then called in a few favors
to a buddy of mine in the ATF.
And the Ciocan use a local biker gang to
run guns and meth up and down the coast.
The Infidel Motorcycle Club.
Guess they have a place
called the Garage Bar.
Wonder if they have ladies night?
- Thanks, Darryl.
- Yeah. Anytime, buddy.
(MAN SINGING IN BACKGROUND)
(ALARM BLARING)
(ALARM STOPS)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Whiskey.
We don't know you, brother.
We don't like people coming
in here that we don't know.
Are you listening to me, dick-brain?
- That's way too much, babe.
- That's for the bottle and the jukebox.
- MAN: Fuck this guy.
- Jukebox?
- (YELLS)
- (GRUNTING)
I'm looking for Drake Chivu.
You tell me where he is,
and I walk on out of here.
Let's kill this motherfucker!
(YELLS)
- MAN: And stay out!
- (LAUGHING)
(GUNSHOT)
Put the gun down.
Well, shit!
I missed you, too.
Let him up!
(COUGHS)
Alright, everyone, I'd like
to thank you for your cooperation.
Harry, let's go.
- Not yet.
- I swear to god, Harry.
- Harry.
- I said not yet!
Now, we are gonna try this
a whole another way.
- (ALL MURMURING)
- Put down the grenade!
- Vic, you should wait outside.
- I'm not waiting outside.
- Vic, wait outside!
- It's Victoria.
- Vic, will you wait outside?
- Fuck off.
- Fuck off, huh?
- Wait!
Drake's brother's got
a mechanic shop over at Patterson.
His name's Vinn. We get all our orders
from him. We never talk to Drake directly.
- I swear.
- What's the name of the shop?
A-1 Mechanic.
Now was that so hard?
Who owns the Fat Boy outside?
Give 'em here.
Alright. Let's do this.
(ALL YELLING)
(ALL COUGHING)
- Sir?
- Yeah?
Harry Turner just trashed a Newark,
New Jersey biker bar.
Oh, great!
It seems Agent Harry Turner has just
trashed a Newark, New Jersey biker bar.
(SIGHS)
Okay. Check in
with Agent Phair immediately,
and, uh... prep an asset.
An assassin? Jesus Sitterson,
don't walk the deep end!
I didn't say activate. I said prep.
Come on. Look, I need a safeguard in place,
in case I can't rein in baby Turner.
VICTORIA: I was instructed to put you
on the first flight back to Prague.
- Did they say when?
- Immediately.
Immediately? That can mean
a lot of different things.
Hm. I'm pretty sure "immediately"
means right fucking now.
Well, you know, time's gonna be tight.
I have to save my dad, save the world,
and I just have a feeling we are not
gonna make that next flight.
(GUN COCKS)
Well, shit, Vic.
I'm not going just yet.
Look, the CONDOR goes live in 16 hours.
So give me 16 hours.
Then you can take me back
to Prague, Langley,
whatever the fuck you wanna take me.
I give you my word.
We find the CONDOR,
shut it down with the Patriarch Key,
and if you find your dad, great.
Then you're on the next flight back
with me to Prague. Do you understand?
- Are we clear?
- Crystal.
Grab your helmet.
(ENGINE STARTS)
(GARAGE OPENS)
MAN: Mr. Turner...
we need the Patriarch Key.
Get him ready.
Understood, sir.
I'm still running down the Ciocan.
Agent Harry Turner? I lost him
at the bar, but, don't worry.
I'm sure I'll be running into him shortly.
Yes, sir. Immediately.
I'll let him know when I see him.
Do not make me regret this.
Oh, my God, can you hurry up?
I don't have all night.
Hey, what's going on? What are you doing?
- You should go.
- Okay.
We got business.
- I don't fucking know you. What business?
- You know her?
Really? What do you think I'm trying to do?
I'm trying to get to know her.
(BARREL SPINS)
(SCOFFS) Really?
Vinn... Vinn... Vinn...
Where is your brother?
What brother?
- I have a lot of brothers.
- (GUN CLICKS)
- Drake.
- Fuck you!
(GUN CLICKS)
Now, Vinn, we need to help
each other out here.
You see, I need an answer to my question.
And you need to not get
your face blown off.
Now, where is your brother?
(SPITS)
(CHUCKLES)
- (SCREAMS) God!
- Turner!
- Goddamn!
- (GUN CLICKS)
- Ah!
- Turner!
(GUN CLICKS)
- One left, Vinn.
- Turner, stop!
I'm gonna see him... I'm gonna
see him tonight, goddammit!
- Where?
- The Lodge. The fucking Lodge!
- The Lodge.
- I know it.
It's a swanky nightclub downtown.
Now, let's go.
HARRY: So how swanky is the Lodge?
VICTORIA: A VIP guest list.
It's almost impossible to pay to get in.
If you're gonna be a part of this,
this cowboy bullshit has got to stop.
It worked, didn't it?
- (BUZZING)
- (MUFFLED GROANING)
Can you get us into the Lodge or not?
I can't.
But I know who can.
(GRUNTING)
You guys are gonna love it there.
It's the hottest club I know.
Oh, there it is!
- Here. Put this on.
- No.
- This is no time to be modest, V.
- Don't you have a pants suit?
Uh, stop objecting, take it and put it on.
You're gonna thank me later.
Thank you. And you.
Actually, you look pretty good.
Maybe just a little product in the hair.
Tres magnifique and awesome, bro!
Oh, and you gotta lose
the white boy hoodie. No.
WOMAN: Sir, we just received this.
(BEEPING)
My name is Leonard Turner.
I am an agent
with the Central Intelligence Agency,
and I have been taken hostage
by Al-dawla Sayyaf.
In approximately 14 hours,
the CONDOR will go live
and Al-dawla Sayyaf will have control
over the world's telecommunications.
This message will be followed
by their demands.
If those demands are not met in time,
all missile silos will be activated
with coordinates
set... in the continental United States.
The demands are as follows...
Pause it.
Hey! You.
No peek-sies.
Nothing he hasn't seen before.
- Really? You two?
- Ancient history, Kris.
Well, don't stop there, slut.
Tell me more. Tell me more.
- Well, I was assigned to the field.
- And I wasn't.
Well, maybe this is your second chance.
Wow!
Damn, I'm good.
I'm about to go get myself ready.
I can't have you stealing
all the attention from the boys.
Hey, and that dress stays on
while I'm gone, hero. No handsies.
Can you help?
This totes reminds me of...
- Williamsburg.
- Yeah.
We were good together, weren't we?
When we were together.
When we weren't, we weren't.
It got complicated.
I like complicated. Easy's boring.
- Do you ever think...
- Always.
We should focus.
(BEEPING)
(HELICOPTER OVERHEAD)
(PHONE RINGS)
- KEN: Where are you, kid?
- Standing outside some nightclub downtown.
- Probably not the best time to go dancing.
- I know where Drake is.
Listen to me, kid. It's not Drake.
It's not the Ciocan.
- It's Al-dawla Sayyaf.
- No, that...
I just watched the tape with my own
fucking eyes. Now, listen to me,
for your sake, for your dad's,
for mine, for Pete's sake, stand down!
- Ken...
- Stand down, Harry!
- So I just spoke with Higgins and he...
- Al-dawla Sayyaf?
Yeah.
That's bullshit.
Think it's a misdirect?
Only one way to find out.
Okay, hey! You're both in! Come on!
In case we get separated.
So what's the plan?
Get inside. Find Drake.
- Ask him where my dad is.
- So the plan is you have no plan.
Works in the movies.
You're ridiculous.
Stick with me, kid.
You might learn something.
KEN: Sir, with your permission,
I'd like to head up to Jersey.
Something about this whole Al-dawla Sayyaf
just doesn't sit right with me.
Alright, fine.
- I'm sending Higgins with you.
- But, sir...
- He's already in the air.
- DJ: Alright party people, let's turn it up!
(HOUSE MUSIC PLAYS)
Oh, no, no, no. Listen, listen, listen...
(CONTINUES INDISTINCT)
It's that he does not know when to quit.
Yeah. Let her through, goddammit.
My father sent me to let you know
he's really pleased doing business with you.
That's awesome. How is your father?
I fucking love that guy.
Too many women, too much vodka.
So, seeing anyone
these last couple of years?
It's none of your business.
Hey, handsome, can I interest you
in a specialty cocktail?
You want a shot?
- Uh, no.
- No?
- Let me know if you need anything else.
- Thank you.
- Anything else.
- I just might do that.
Make some room, please.
Tell your father our relationship
is in good standing.
I'll let him know.
There he is.
Stop smiling.
Kris. Remember New Orleans?
(GASPS) Oh! Who are we seducing?
Him? Really?
You always did have a weird taste.
Uncool, Ms. Phair. Uncool.
Don't be jelly, Turner.
- What's your name, beautiful?
- What?
Jesus, fucking crazy wasted.
- What's your name?
- Whatever you want it to be, babe.
- Heather. I like Heather.
- (CHUCKLES)
That's my mom's name.
- Mm.
- Can I have, uh... some more?
- Absolutely.
- Thank you.
So, Heather?
You like to kiss both men and women?
I can't hear you.
Can we go somewhere private possibly?
Absolutely.
(YELLS INDISTINCT)
Please show this lovely lady
to the private room.
Private room...
Thank you, sir.
(WHISTLES)
Get the fuck out.
You too, princess.
I've always wanted to try this.
Yeah? Well, don't break it.
I'm in this asshole's pussy palace.
Jesus. You just call me
if you're in trouble.
Uh-huh. I'm glad
you came back here with me.
People say I'm dangerous, I don't know
what it is. I think it's the fucking hair.
I like your hair.
I like a little danger, too.
(COMPUTER BEEPING)
Oh, shit!
(PHONE RINGING)
Yeah.
DARRYL: Harry, there's a wet
work order out on you. Did you hear me?
- You've been targeted for assassination.
- (DOOR OPENS CLOSES)
- How long?
- The asset's en route.
Thanks, Darryl.
- I really have to go to the ladies room.
- You're not going anywhere.
(GRUNTING)
I have it within my power
to level nations.
Think one little bitch from the CIA
will pose much of a threat, huh?
Agent Victoria Phair.
(CRACKING)
(YELLS)
Fuck!
- VICTORIA: Harry. Harry, help!
- On my way!
- You fucked up, bitch.
- Fuck you!
Get the fuck up! Get up!
Pick up your legs! Move!
Move! Come on! Come on!
- (GROANS)
- (GRUNTS)
It's a shame really. We're out of time.
I was looking forward to seeing
how far you were willing to go.
- HARRY: Don't think so.
- (GRUNTS)
(ALL SCREAMING)
I got it.
- I had him.
- Oh, you are so male right now.
Come on.
Stay down!
That's enough! That's enough!
I don't know who this kung fu cocksucker
is, but get him the fuck out of here!
And none of you, dumb fucks talk shit!
Walk, bitch. Walk! Faster!
(GROANS, COUGHS)
(GROANING)
(TIRES SCREECHING)
Where's your car? Where's your car?
- Let's go. Hit it.
- (ENGINE REVS)
(TIRES SCREECHING)
- How well do you know Jersey?
- Huh?
Forget it. Can you go any faster?
Pick-up, you dumb motherfucker.
Have you talked to my brother?
- What the fuck are you laughing at?
- Motherfucker!
- Abraham Lincoln Elementary.
- Abraham Lincoln Elementary!
Oh, I went there for like a year.
It was kind of cool.
- Oh, go there! I got you!
- Go!
VICTORIA: I love this drive-thru.
Anyone up for a taco?
Drive-thru. Tacos?
- Which one?
- How many are there?
- There's like four or five!
- Fuck!
But the only one with a drive-thru
is on Tennessee.
Go! Go! Tennessee.
- Kris, this is a one-way!
- (HORN HONKS)
Kris!
Shit!
- Whoa, that was close. (LAUGHING)
- Kris, you're crazy.
Where are we going?
Well, if I told you, I'd have
to kill you, which, full disclosure,
I would love nothing more. But, uh...
Sorry about your face.
There they are. There they are!
- Slow down. Slow down.
- Okay.
Slow down.
Okay. So, what do you want me to do?
Alright, look.
If you don't hear from me in an hour
call Robertson at this number.
- You got it?
- Got it.
So, what do I do if he doesn't answer?
- Just stay in the car.
- Okay.
- Are you sure you don't want me to come in?
- Stay in the car!
Okay.
Hey.
(GRUNTS)
(GROANS)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER IN BACKGROUND)
(GRUNTS)
(WHOOSHING)
(WHISTLING)
(GRUNTING)
(SNORING)
Dad. Dad.
- Harry.
- Dad.
- Are you alright?
- Yeah.
Are you okay?
Does anyone know you're here?
- Did you follow protocol?
- Dad...
are you okay?
Harry... focus.
Does anyone know you're here?
No.
No one knows you're here?
No. The last person
I spoke to was Uncle Ken.
Look, I'm sorry, Dad. I fucked up.
No, son.
You did everything you could.
We're fine.
No one knows we're here.
Dad?
Give us a minute.
- I'm sorry about all this, Harry.
- What's going on, Dad?
Retaliation.
I don't understand.
Retaliation for your mother.
What's this got to do with Mom?
The CIA leaked my cover.
Correction...
the CIA gave up my cover.
Cost me your mother.
Almost cost me you.
You stole the CONDOR.
As payback.
So you're just gonna turn your back
on everything you stood for?
They turned their back on me first, Harry.
- Where's Victoria?
- She's here.
I want to see her.
She is no longer your concern.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Give me the Patriarch Key.
You're killing him.
The only thing
Harry's ever wanted in life...
was to be like you.
- (EXHALES)
- Give me the key.
Bye.
(PHONE BUZZING)
Well, the buyers are here.
Send them in.
And bring my son up.
He'll wanna see this.
Goddammit.
- Fucking little bitch.
- Fuck off.
Get the fuck up. Get the fuck up!
Yeah, yeah.
This is a nice fucking jacket, brother.
Where'd you get this jacket?
Oh, you don't feel like talking much?
Ivan!
This place like Russia, cold and wet.
Very good for the skin,
that's what they say.
Good skin is for hookers and potatoes.
I hadn't thought of it that way.
As promised... the CONDOR.
- This is it?
- Yeah. This is it.
Demonstration, please.
(BEEPING)
Goddamn, we're online!
And it's done.
Half of China just lost cell reception.
- Sir, the CONDOR just activated.
- What's its target?
A Chinese telecommunications network.
Son of a bitch!
Guard!
Guard.
- I have to go to the little girls' room.
- So go in your fucking pants.
You're not gonna really
let me hang here, are you?
Come here.
(GROANS)
(YELLING)
Pleasure doing business with you.
Don't do this.
We've met before, you and I.
Excuse me?
Not face-to-face.
But our paths have crossed.
You sure? 'Cause I would remember.
December 21st, 2004.
- Ring a bell?
- December...
No. I'm sorry, it doesn't.
It means everything to me.
To my son.
'Cause that is the day that you
purchased my cover from CIA
and sold it to Dmitri Kovrov.
The day you signed
my wife's death sentence.
- I did no such thing.
- Shut your fucking mouth.
Drake.
- (GASPS)
- (GUNSHOTS)
Say her name.
Say her name!
- I don't know!
- I'll help you.
Kate Turner!
Kate... Kate Turner!
Harry. Harry.
For your mother.
Finish it off.
Fuck you.
Fuck you, and your dead mother!
Alright. Alright.
Hands up!
Higgins, put away your weapon.
- Sir?
- Holster your weapon.
Looks like you had a busy day.
Higgins, put the CONDOR in the car.
- Take it back to Prague.
- Ken. Shut the fuck up.
- What the fuck are you doing, Leonard?
- Fuck if I know.
Take a step back. Back the fuck up.
- What the fuck are you talking about?
- You back away from the CONDOR,
or I will blow a fucking round
right through your dumb fucking skull.
Do you understand?
- It didn't have to be like this, friend.
- No. It was Sitterson.
I tried to keep you out of this, Harry.
Lord knows I tried.
But you're a Turner thru and thru.
Stubborn as hell.
- Who put the hit on my kid?
- I didn't want to, but I had no choice.
I couldn't have him sabotaging everything
I worked so hard to put into motion.
But we could still save this.
There's 150 million bucks in an account.
I take the CONDOR,
we're talking billions. Billions!
Step back. Step... back.
Ken, you're a smart guy. You think anybody's
walking out of here with the CONDOR.
What are you waiting for?
You broke the deal, Leonard.
Dad?
- Dad!
- Harry, get the CONDOR.
Put the gun down.
Fucking dead, bitch!
- Stop him, Harry!
- Ken!
You like diamonds, bitch? (GRUNTING)
(PANTING)
HARRY: Ken!
You're tenacious, kid. I'll give you that!
(GRUNTING)
(TIRES SCREECHING)
(GROANS) Sorry.
HARRY: Dad! Dad! I got it!
(GROANING)
Let me lean you up.
You're good.
(SIRENS IN BACKGROUND)
- You ready?
- Let's roll.
Let's load up.
(BIRDS SQUAWKING)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
- Purvis.
- Ms. Phair.
It's a pleasure to see you again.
I really wasn't expecting you.
I know.
(PHONE RINGING)
- Where are you?
- HARRY: In the office.
It doesn't sound like the office.
Okay. Maybe I'm visiting an old friend.
Are you gonna be able
to handle this one without me?
Wait, you aren't coming?
- Shit's about to get complicated.
- I like complicated.
Easy's boring.
(BEEPING)