Beyond the Law

---

Morning, Harold.

You're still alive ?

[ gunshot ]

[ shouting ]

[ siren wailing ]

You look like hell, Slick.

Have a rough night ?

Dispatch said there were shots fired.

Crazy bastard in the rocks.

Chucked a couple of shots

at the dozer.

He almost killed me.

Who is he ?

An old Apache.

They call him Bogus Charlie.

Thinks he's a medicine man.

Says we're rapin' his mother

by pokin' holes in the earth.

You got any ideas ?

Well, he's only shot at the dozer,

but he could change his mind.

I had to call in the state police.

They'll be here any minute now.

What the hell are you doing ?

Takin' a walk.

That's f***in' nuts.

Maybe.

Hey, Roy ? You better get

the hell outta here.

[ cocking rifle hammer ]

How ya doin' ?

Never better.

You know, I was thinkin'.

If you gave me that rifle and offered

to pay for the damage,

I could say you were out here hunting

and hit the equipment by mistake.

You want jerky ?

We don't have time. The state cops

will be here in a few minutes.

- So if you'll just give me that rifle.

- Sit down.

Whatever you say.

You don't look so good, kid.

Something bothering you,

something inside, right ?

Are you gonna

give me the rifle ?

You know, my grandfather

told me a story once...

About a young brave

who got scared of his shadow...

and ran away from it.

Look--

I told you, sit still.

Anyway,

This young brave found out he was

only half a person without his shadow,

but to get it back...

he had to go down into a dark hole

where only shadows live.

Problem was,

anybody went down there...

never came back.

[ sirens wailing ]

You've just run

out of time, old man.

If you give me the rifle right now,

we can still keep you out of jail.

Somethin' else

my grandfather told me...

a true Apache had to do

when surrounded...

and outnumbered by crazy white men.

- What's that ?

Give the f*** up.

So, you gonna tell me

what's bothering you ?

Nah. I just haven't been

able to sleep much lately.

Kelly, ain't it ?

I know it is. Been on you like

sh*t on a shovel.

- You oughta be more careful around him.

- He's an a**hole.

But he is the f***ing boss.

There.

- What the hell is this ?

- Well, open it up, find out.

- You wrap this yourself, Butch ?

- Sure did.

I guess I'll have to keep it,

whatever the hell it is.

I had that when I was a little kid.

Thought it might cheer you up

if you played with it for a while.

You're a very strange and crazy

old man, you know that ?

I do.

I sure know that.

[ beeping ]

Gotta go.

Why don't you lay out, turn

the radio off and get some rest.

I'll cover for you, Slick.

- That's what partners are for.

- Thanks, Butch.

Adios.

[ man ] You son of a b*tch.

You're just like your mother.

[ crying ]

It's in your f***in' blood !

[ voice echoing ]

[ sighing ]

[ siren wailing ]

[ police radio, indistinct ]

Why did you stop me ?

Huh ?

Why did you stop me ?

For speeding.

- I wasn't speeding.

- Yes, you were.

- No, I wasn't.

- I'm afraid you were.

May I see your license, please ?

You have a nice face.

- Excuse me ?

- Good bones.

Where you goin' in such a hurry,

miss Jackson ?

- What difference does that make ?

- I'll ask the questions, okay ?

Okay. I'm going to the campground.

- All this photo equipment yours ?

- Of course not.

That's why I'm carrying it

around with me.

- You don't have to be a complete smart ass.

- You gonna write me a ticket ?

Get outta here !

Now !

This is car number 50.

[ chuckling ]

We'll take care of all the

damages, plus ten percent.

And, um, put a little somethin' extra

in there for you, Kelly.

Hoo, hoo, hoo, yeah !

You did !

[ laughing ]

- I appreciate that, man, I really do.

- I know you do.

Now if there's anything else

we can do for ya,

anything at all.

- Aw, forget it.

You're in my f***in' way.

Who in the hell was that ?

His name's Blood.

He runs that bunch.

- I got a bone to pick with you, Saxon.

- That's a surprise.

I heard about

what you did this morning.

Where do you get off riskin' your ass

over some worthless, drunken Indian ?

- He wasn't drunk.

- All indians are nothin' but drunks, tit-head.

Look at me when I'm talkin' to you.

You f***in'...

crazy, stupid son of a b*tch !

- You're f***in' fired.

- Bob, don't do that.

Shut the f*** up, Butch, or I'll fire your ass too !

Is that what you want ?

- That's your call, sir.

- You're damn right !

Come on.

[ knock at door ]

- Yeah ?

- I'm Conroy Price, Mr. Saxon.

Special investigator of division

Arizona attorney general's office.

I have a proposition for you.

- Does this turtle ever move ?

- What do you want, Price ?

I'm forming an undercover

narcotics operation.

- I'm lookin' for a field officer. You're the man I need.

- How do you figure that ?

I know everything

there is to know about you.

Really ?

Dan Saxon isn't your real name.

You were born William Patrick Steiner

in Manhattan on June 24, 1966.

Your father was a pipe fitter.

Your mother was a full-blooded

chippewa Indian.

You were orphaned when you were 3 and

raised by your maternal uncle, a policeman.

Shall I go on ?

Who the hell are you ?

I told you. I'm with

the attorney general's office.

Let me give you my card.

I'll put it right here.

I'll go on.

Because she was a native american,

your uncle hated your mother.

He locked you in a room, handcuffed you

and beat you for the next three years.

When you were six years old,

you somehow got his gun...

and shot him through the heart six times.

Six times.

Hmm.

A court-appointed psychiatrist testified you

have no memory of how it happened.

"Severe emotional trauma,"

he called it.

You know what you did.

You just can't remember doing it.

How did you find out ?

I can't tell you that,

but it was no easy task.

The judge sealed your records

when you were adopted.

I'm curious about one thing.

Why become a policeman ?

That's a strange thing to do

under the circumstances,

don't you think ?

Then again, maybe not.

What I think... is you better get

the hell out of here.

- Let me finish.

- You gonna leave or do I throw you out ?

I can find my own way out.

Will you think about it ?

I don't want your goddamn job.

Maybe not. But I think you need it.

Something tells me you have some

unfinished business with a blue uniform.

Get the f*** outta here !

[ Price ] I knew you'd change your mind.

[ Saxon ] Well, you ever mention my past

again, I'll f***in' kill you.

- Done.

- Where do we start ?

Here's $20,000. Sign the receipt.

When you make a buy, I'll give you more.

Also, instructions on tagging evidence,

drop point procedures...

And some numbers

where I can be reached.

Memorize and destroy them.

When you wanna see me, we meet here.

And nobody knows

you're undercover but me.

- I mean NOBODY.

- I'm gonna have to move.

I'll rent you a place in Phoenix. Grow

a mustache and change your appearance.

You're an ex-cop. If anybody recognizes you,

they'll kill you on spec.

- Would you miss me, Price ?

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