Agent 13: The Package Page #4

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like you anymore.

No, Russian Spetsnaz are close,

but not quite.

It takes selection.

What were you?

Force Recon? Ranger school?

Chechnya, Mogadishu, Somalia?

You see, names like that

don't mean much

to normal people,

but to us, they do.

Where did you learn

your trade?

I took an online course.

It's good that you got

a sense of humor.

This is Monique.

She was Army Counterintelligence.

You know what that means.

It means she conducted

the interrogation

of countless captured

al-Qaeda suspects.

It means

she's a sadistic,

soulless b*tch.

She sounds like

one of my ex-wives.

For five years,

work meant making men scream

and beg for mercy,

but it didn't affect her

'cause she was good

at what she did.

Very good.

I'd clap, but I'm a little

tied up right now.

She did what she did

for minimum

warrant officer wage, Tommy.

Just think what she's gonna do

to the man who killed her fianc.

Just don't kill him.

We need some new wheels.

I'm taking this.

I'll phone back in 20 minutes.

Have fun.

What Devon said

was not quite accurate.

When it comes to

advanced interrogation techniques

or "the alternative

set of procedures,"

as the administration

referred to it...

"torture,"

as you would call it,

I never did it for money.

I did it for fun.

Let me see.

Good.

You don't care

about the package, do you?

I'm the definition of

a consummate professional,

but when you killed Dosan,

you crossed an invisible line.

Left or right?

He screamed like a b*tch,

you know.

- What?

- Your fianc.

He died like a b*tch.

Is this your clumsy attempt

to incite a reaction?

No, I'm just letting you know

he died like a b*tch.

Died screaming.

Like a whiny, little...

b*tch.

Is that all you got, lady?

Hm.

I know what

you're trying to do.

You're trying to provoke me

into an emotional response.

You think?

I think you just about did it.

Something's wrong.

You are really starting

to piss me off.

Sh*t!

Well, well, Tommy, old son.

Looks like you just increased

my take full share.

Sir?

The subject is conscious.

Hello, Tommy.

Hey, the German.

But seriously, do you really

want me to call you that?

I do.

What can I say?

I like it.

Besides, one never picks

one's own nickname.

Which makes for tall men

named Shorty

and fat men named Slim.

So...

what have you been up to

since we last met?

You mean, since you

sold my ass down the river?

Aw, but you had that coming.

How do you figure?

Well, you didn't follow through

with my request.

But, I must admit,

I may have overreacted a bit.

So do you know

why you're here, Thomas?

No.

I do have one

hellacious headache, though.

Well, that's because we

took a couple of pints

of your blood, Thomas.

My blood?

Well, I've taken all I can

from my father.

That's... that's pleasant.

That is...

reality.

What was in the wallet?

Season tickets.

Good seats, too.

Hard to come by.

But football tickets

do not a package make, Thomas,

but you do.

What's that got to do with me?

You, Thomas.

You are the package.

You see,

you and I, we...

we share a common curse.

An extremely rare

blood group.

Most people have

A, B, AB, O,

or one of

the assorted subsets.

But the two of you

are designated HH.

Sometimes known

as Bombay Blood.

Sadly, the only compatible match

for an HH is another HH.

And in the United States,

.004% of the population

share this affliction.

Big Doug had us all in

for physicals.

Hemolytic anemia is...

well, it's when the red blood cells

rupture and become dysfunctional.

Extremely painful condition.

Well, you see,

I need clean blood, Thomas.

But to find a compatible donor,

it's highly unlikely.

It's almost impossible, in fact.

Imagine my surprise

at finding one in my own stable.

Doug know he was

sending me into this?

Yeah, of course he did.

Yeah.

He sold you to me.

I liked you, Thomas.

You had potential.

But when it comes to a man's

sheer willingness to survive,

you'd be surprised

what one's willing to do.

You're plumb unlucky,

you know that, right?

Excuse me?

We ain't compatible.

You goddamn Kraut.

What do you mean?

Our blood may be the same,

but there's the issue

of my condition.

He's a dead man.

What condition?

Stop the drip.

What... what condition?

I... I can't.

What? Tell me, Thomas.

What... what are you saying?

- I can't.

- Tell me what you mean.

Guards! Guards!

Guards!

No! Don't shoot!

Don't kill him! Don't!

God damn, Tommy.

You just don't know

when to quit, do you?

Had yourself

one hell of a day, huh?

It ain't over yet.

There's a lot of money out there.

The kind of money a man

could have a lifetime on.

The kind of money a man

could get lost with.

I'm not greedy.

I could just as easily

split it 50/50.

I'll even give you the Merc.

I'll walk.

Tommy, think about it.

Think about it.

You don't need to kill me.

I'm just a man doing his job.

On the job or no job,

you killed my partner.

Yeah, now,

I'm gonna kill you.

Drop the guns, Tommy.

Your blood's no good to me

if you're dead.

Turn around.

Well, you have what I need,

Thomas.

And I'm gonna take it

with or without your consent.

I heard you killed Anthony

with one strike.

I've only seen a man

kill like that once.

I was holding

a roll of quarters at the time.

I don't suppose it would

make a difference

if I said we could just

walk away from this, does it?

Not this time, Tommy.

The stakes are too high.

Ain't no rules

in this game, Tommy.

You got that right, jackass.

Still here.

No need for that.

Let's go.

It's good to see you, Tommy.

You mean that?

Yes, yes I do.

I know you do.

It was business,

Tommy, just business.

Just one man following

a bigger man's orders.

Tommy, if I tried to keep you

hidden from the German,

he would have taken

everything from me.

- Everything.

- I figured as much.

- Did he pay you up front?

- He did.

And that clears

your brother's debt.

With him dead,

what does that make you?

An older man

having grown tired

of this game.

I hear ya.

What now?

Well, the way I see it,

we either proceed as before

and file this little incident away,

or we go our separate ways,

leave the baggage behind

and wish each other

a hearty Godspeed.

A hearty Godspeed.

Godspeed, Big D.

Godspeed, Tommy.

Godspeed.

Thank you, Tommy.

Thank you.

Hey, man, you'd have done

the same thing for me.

Look, I'm gonna

get out of here soon.

And this time,

I ain't ever coming back.

I'm gonna set

things right, Tommy.

I'm gonna do that for you.

I know you will, bro.

I know you will.

Mercedes for the pickup

straight across? Deal.

Here are the keys.

Pink slip's

in the glove compartment.

Well, it was a pleasure

doing business with you, Tommy.

Thanks, Gary.

I'll be seeing you around, brother.

Hey, I'm back.

Yeah, one piece mainly.

- Hey, Tommy.

- Hang on.

You forgot this.

Sorry, Gary,

been a long day.

They all are, huh?

Hey, yeah, we can talk

about it over dinner.

Hang on.

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