12 Rounds Page #2

You all right?

It's gonna bruise like a b*tch.

You're lucky I didn't aim any lower.

Man, it's just like those pansy-ass feds.

I mean, they call us, we jump right away.

We call them, city's under seven feet of water-

Hey, five days. Take it easy.

Those guys skin my ass, Danny,

they really do.

Look at this guy-

arms trafficking, espionage, murder.

Hell, he even sold two dirty bombs

in Paris last year.

Interpol says he's got

two more on the market.

Like the city needs more to deal with?

I mean, really, why can't they take that crap

someplace else- Kansas, Iowa?

- Helsinki.

- [Laughs]

[Dispatcher] All units, we're at black.

F.B.I. requests assistance.

Sending target information.

Eight male suspects, three vehicles

heading to Lake Pontchartrain Causeway.

- Sounds like the feds dropped the ball again.

- Surprised?

[Siren Wailing]

Someone broke into the safe house.

They took Joshua and killed our agents.

- He did it again.

- How do you want to proceed with the convoy?

Well, take 'em!

Take 'em.

I threw in an extra five percent,

for treating my brother and I so well.

- Was it any trouble getting him out?

- For me?

Nah. For the two guards

I had to kill, maybe.

- And he's waiting at the airfield?

- Yeah, he's there right now.

Why don't you give him a call?

You know what the funny thing is, Sam?

If I hadn't have found out the F.B.I.

was holding your brother...

as a bargaining chip to catch me...

you'd have gone along with this whole

double-cross without so much as a consideration.

- [Cell Phone Ringing]

- And I'd be out of my hard-earned cash.

The F.B.I. would probably

have me in custody...

and you and your douche bag brother...

would be holding hands somewhere

in the south of France.

[Rings]

[Echoing]

Yeah? Hello.

I'm sorry. Joshua can't come to the phone

right now, but thanks for the ride.

[Sirens Wailing]

Oldest trick in the book, Sam.

Turn their heads with one hand...

quietly slip out the back with the other.

Later.

- Right on time, baby.

- Aren't I always?

Mmm!

Show me.

We can finally afford that pony

that you've always wanted.

[Giggles]

I'll drive.

- Whoo!

- Right.

[Man On Radio] F.B.I. update. Suspects in custody,

but Miles Jackson is still at large.

Looking for gray van, Louisiana plates:

Alpha-Golf-November-803.

- Stand by.

- Unit 14 en route for Lower Nine.

- Whoa!

- [Truck Horn Honks]

Uh, my bad.

I didn't even see that guy.

[Siren Wailing]

Turn around.

Turn-What are you talkin' about?

Danny, we're at black. We gotta get over there.

We gotta stop that car.

That's the girl- the girl in the car.

Oh, Jesus. All right.

[Man On Radio]

Headquarters to 5-21.

[On Loudspeaker]

Pull over, please.

Come on. You heard Dispatch.

We're lookin' for an Irish dude in a gray van.

- You think this is a good idea?

- Just ask her the questions.

Such a waste of time.

[Police Radio Chatter]

License and registration, ma'am.

Evening, Officer. What'd I-

What seems to be the problem?

- Evening. License and registration, please.

- Yeah, of course.

Hope I'm not in any sort of trouble.

How does everything look?

Oh, outstanding.

But tell me, what's a pretty lady like you

doin' drivin' all by herself...

through a neighborhood like this?

Sometimes I like to be alone.

Sometimes I don't.

- Uh, give me a second.

- Yeah. No problem.

[Whispering]

Dude, do you wanna see her face?

- Here. Thank you, ma'am.

- Thank you.

Listen...

here's my card, you know,

for those times when you don't.

Ask her to open the trunk.

Come on. I'm working my sh*t

over here. What are you doing?

Ask her.

I'm gonna need you to pop your trunk.

- Gun!

- Sh*t!

- This just got interesting.

- I got this.

You all right, man?

- Oh, yeah.

- Where'd he get you?

- He shot me in my ass.

- In your ass?

- Shut up.

- Keep pressure on it. Three minutes to E.M.S.

- [Miles] Hey!

- Hang on!

No, Danny.

I know that look!

You wait for backup.

Don't be a cowboy! Danny!

[Grunts]

- There's one on foot.

- Left or right?

- I don't know, baby.

- You watch that side, I'll watch this side.

Pursuit on foot.

Parallel to Duquense.

Suspect's in a gold BMW.

There he is.

- Where do I go? What do I do?

- Left on Saint Claude, right on Montmartre.

We cross the bridge.

We get on the jet.

We never see the New Orleans

Police Department again. I promise.

- Police business.

- [Gasps]

Okay. Keep goin'.

This guy's really starting to annoy me.

- You got him?

- Where'd he go?

You see him?

[Dog Barking]

[Horn Honking]

- Move!

- [Barking Continues]

[Growling, Barking]

Damn!

Down, boy! Down!

[Horn Honks]

Officer Fisher, still on foot pursuit.

Subject's headed towards the marina.

It's, like, two blocks to the bridge.

Home free.

- Erica!

- [Erica Screams]

- Move, move, move!

- Freeze!

- Hands in the air now!

- Miles?

- Now!

- Run!

Erica!

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa,

whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Stay in the vehicle.

Stay in the vehicle!

Hands up, now!

- Who are you?

- On the ground!

What's your name?

Officer Fisher.

I'll remember you.

[Siren Wailing]

On the ground.

[Police Radio Chatter]

[Helicopter Whirring]

[Laughs]

I'm tryin' to figure out what's worse, man-

your shootin' at this table

or your shootin' at the range.

Aw, he's got jokes, huh?

I'll take those, Jesse.

Hey, mama, this might be a little strange,

but Danny wants to know if you think I'm sexy.

[Hank]

Huh?

- Really?

- Oh, yeah. Inquiring minds got to know.

Don't worry about him, darling.

- You're safe. We had him neutered.

- See? Safety first.

Ooh, whoo!

[Shudders]

You're an animal.

[Murmurs]

- Hey, a toast.

- Right on.

To my partner.

One year ago tomorrow, we made detective.

Yeah, and all 'cause

of my outstanding police work, huh?

Okay. Maybe it had somethin'

to do with the fact...

that you captured

an international arms dealer.

[Laughing]

Hey, but seriously, bro, I mean,

from patrols in the Lower Ninth to this?

- Doesn't ever bother you?

- What?

What- the mandated pay raise,

the flashy new badge?

Benefits of bein' a minor celebrity?

Hell, no!

You just never think about what would

have happened if we had stayed put...

and called for backup that night,

like we were supposed to?

Ah, aside from the fact that I wouldn't

have a bullet hole in my ass cheek?

Yeah, besides that.

No, Danny, not at all. You know what?

Neither should you.

Just sayin'.

A girl dies that night,

and we get promoted.

Can I get a cup?

- That's it?

- I got to.

- Aw, come on. It's fellas' night out. One more.

- We've had like six one mores.

I gotta go home. Why? Because

that beautiful woman, that annoying dog-

you know, they're waitin' for me.

All right, all right.

I can't argue with that, bro.

All right, man.

Good luck.

Aw, come on, son. I don't need luck.

This ain't about luck.

[Beeping]

[Beeping Stops]

You gotta be kiddin' me.

- This is not a big deal, okay?

- Two inches of water on the floor. Look at Shortie.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes