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A $65-million painting?

Now, I wonder what kind of case

that would be in, Capt. Tuliver?

You shouldn't have come here.

People want you dead.

You wouldn't happen to know

who's trying to kill me, would you?

Yeah. Me.

Oh, sh*t.

- What did you get Bull into, Tuliver, huh?

- Come on, he came to me.

Bullshit! Bull would have come to me

for a heist.

His own brother!

He would have been alive now.

- Bull's dead because of you.

- No, come on! No.

Both of my brothers died around you.

And you are still alive?

Can you explain that to me?

What?

I lost 12 guys today.

I'll tell you another thing.

Every time one of your brothers died,

so did I.

Tuliver.

Where are you going to go, huh?

Come on. What are you drinking?

Look. No guns. Okay?

- Come on.

- Look, Mik.

Bull came to me.

He met some girl that worked for

an armoured car company.

She came to him. He came to me.

That's it.

Delta Force.

"Frank'Bull' Mercea. "

Dorothy!

Bull Mercea. Buddy of yours, Jack?

What, do you bring your own people in

for the job?

Married. Bucharest.

Alexsie Kutchinov is

a very dangerous Russian.

He's put the word out on you.

- I could be killed for just talking to you.

- A gangster?

Gangster, a thief, drug dealer.

Covers it all with nightclubs,

art dealership, car dealers...

you name it.

If there is money to be made in this town...

you can be sure he's got a hand in it.

- He's got a friend of mine.

- Who?

A girl.

Jack!

Never let a woman

get into your business, Jack.

Tully.

Crazy as a shithouse rat.

I've always wondered

what my brothers saw in you.

Both so determined to become

American citizens. For what?

Even worse, that Bull should organize

a heist...

and not tell me.

It's nothing personal, Mik.

Stay here tonight.

Andre will take you to a safer place

in the morning.

Hi.

I'm sorry to drag you out so early,

Mr. Grapini.

Anything to help. Please.

So, you found an original van Gogh.

That's correct, isn't it?

Hiemler's Lily.

Hiemler's Lily?

I bought a consignment of paintings...

from a cousin of Hiemler,

Alfred Lindle, a Dutch artist.

I always liked his work. And the bank

wanted money for the debts he owed.

They sent me every painting in the house

for one price.

The Lily was in with them.

I thought it a prank, at first.

Well, apparently it is the real thing.

- Didn't Lindle claim it?

- No.

Like the original's owner,

he took his own life.

That poor painting travelled

all over Europe...

to be authenticated

by the insurance company.

It only had one more place to go

before I could show it.

Now it is a ghost again.

- Will the insurance cover it?

- It is covered.

But hopefully we'll never have to find out.

All I can trust is

that you people can do your job.

Can you?

Well, it's always hard

when things are stolen.

Young lady, this is not hard.

This is a f***ing tragedy.

I was just thinking about you.

Couldn't leave me alone, huh, Jack?

Well, I've already had my hands

down your pants.

Figured I'dtry for second base, Anders.

Well, my door's open. Come on over.

Now, what kind of man you take me for?

- A thief in the wrong country.

- Not a killer?

- Convince me.

- Blanks in the gun.

Couldn't have shot him, even if I wanted to.

Now, why would you put blanks

in your gun?

Looked like you were shooting

when I saw you.

Not at the cop.

And I didn't put blanks in my gun.

Turn yourself in. The evidence will pan out.

You didn't tell them about me yet, did you?

What makes you say that?

My mug shot's not plastered

all over the news.

Well, did you mean to steal that case

or was that bonus?

Even thieves need to get lucky

every now and then.

What are you in this for, Anders?

I want you all for myself.

What's in the case?

Give me something

and I'll give you something.

Are we talking about the same thing?

Probably not.

Jack, think long and hard about what

you want from this relationship...

and then call me.

I will.

I'm starting to like you, Anders.

Always leave them hanging.

Professor.

Yes?

I'm Sgt. Anders, NATO forces,

stationed here in Bucharest.

Hello.

Could I ask you a few questions about

a painting you were to have authenticated?

Which painting is this?

A possible lost van Gogh.

The Lilies in the Field?

The painting is a fake.

It's not that I don't believe you, sir.

How can you be so sure when...

two other reputable art appraisers

think it's real.

To the trained eye...

it's obvious that the brush strokes

were not those of the master.

The painting lacks texture, nuance...

and the familiar pastichal brilliance.

- So, it's a forgery?

- Yes.

Credible attempt, but...

nonetheless...

a forgery.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Sgt. Anders.

Nothing personal, Tully.

Just business.

Oh, you cocksucker.

Your little job...

has put us all in danger.

This man would be very upset with me...

if I helped you.

Mikhail...

who do you think killed Bull, huh?

Who do you think?

So, so Tuliver...

we have a saying in my country:

"Don't blame the baker...

"when the butcher bakes the bread. "

What the hell does that mean?

It means you are f***ed.

So, you had no idea

what was in the package?

Have you ever done courier work?

- No.

- No.

A client pays for a package to be delivered...

we deliver.

And where was it going?

To the destination.

Destination was...

a Dr. Bostnescu, here in Bucharest.

You could be more helpful.

I am.

Do you have an armed assault

and robbery charge against you?

Acquitted.

And what has that got to do with anything?

Nothing really...

just being thorough.

Would hate to think of a man with counts of

armed assault against him would have...

any knowledge of a $65-million painting

going missing on his watch.

My cell number.

Call me if you think of anything useful.

Don't get up.

Follow her.

What did he say?

Go with God.

Sister f***er.

Wake him.

No sleep for the wicked, Jack.

There must be something really big

in that case.

Oh, that's frightening, Tuliver.

You can read minds.

If I'm dead...

no case.

I'll be just one minute.

Make yourself at home.

Dorothy!

Do you know where Jack Tuliver is?

He's wanted for the murder of

a police officer.

Jack can kill, but he's no killer.

Grapini...

made this job sound so much easier...

than it turned out.

Get someone to steal the casino money.

Oops.

A $65-million painting...

disappears.

Oh, yes.

It is a painting, Jack...

and I need that painting.

You see...

it would be very bad for me...

if that painting was to show up...

and everyone realized...

it was a fake.

How would I get my insurance money then...

Jack?

How many people in this photo

will die this week?

Why did Jack go to prison?

You see the other man next to Jack?

Constantine was Bull's brother.

They were in the military with Jack.

Constantine Mercea died for his country.

A military officer sent Constantine

on a suicidal mission.

And he died.

Jack broke that officer's arm and leg...

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