Cement, Substitution, Cocaine: The Chase
- Year:
- 1994
- 6 min
- 49 Views
I had a really good time.
- Yes?|- Marlboro. Hard pack.
This, and, uh...
Yeah, I gotta pick|something up for the wife.
Come on, pal.|I'm growing a beard over here.
I can never get these silly things.
Thar she blows!
All units, code 503.
Repeat:
Stolen vehicle.|'89 Volkswagen Rabbit.Silver. Boy-uncle-seven 9-9-6.
Any unit respond.
Look, just keep the change.|All right?
Excuse me.
That wouldn't be your Rabbit|by any chance, would it?
Mine?
Oh, no. No, sir.|I'm... I'm on foot.
I was just, uh,|out for a little jog, you know.
Here you go.|Five dollars on number five.
And your change, sir.
Jogged, huh?
Come here! Don't do it!
- Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!|- Whoa.! Whoa.! Whoa.!
- I'll blow a hole right through her, man!|- Let's not do nothin' stupid!
- Oh, my God! Don't hurt me!|- Come on, buddy! Let her go!
We're just talking a stolen car here.
Put the gun down. You don't wanna make|things worse for yourself, do ya?
Things couldn't possibly|be worse for myself.
- Don't even think about it, hero.!|- Hey, hey, hey.
Now, you, join your partner over there.
Keep your hands high.|Both of you!
Hey, you!|Grab their guns!
- Who, me?|- Yes, you, you mutt!
Just take it easy.|Think about what you're doing.
What am I doing?
- I won't go to jail for this?|- No, you won't go to jail.
- Now put 'em on the floor|and kick 'em over to me.
I said kick 'em over to me, Pel.
Hey, hey.! No.! No.! Wrong.!
Tell you what.
Pick up the goddamn guns|and hand 'em to me.
By the barrels.
Put 'em in my pockets.
Good boy, nickels.
Damn it.
All right. Okay, now everybody...
on the floor!
- You won't get away with this.|- You don't know that.
- Faces flat!|- Don't kill me! I don't wanna die!
You won't if everybody does|exactly as I say.
Holy sh*t.!
- Holy sh*t!|- Don't shoot! We're staying down!
I told you to keep your faces|against the floor!
Okay, okay. We don't|want anybody to get hurt.
Now, if you want|this young lady to live...
nobody moves|until we're a memory.
- Did you drive?|- Yes.
All right, get out your keys.|We're going for a joyride. Do it!
Open the door.|Open the door.
Kill it. Kill it!
Keys.
Get in. Move. Over.|All the way over.
We've been patrolling...
- Wait. Not yet.|- Sorry.
Okay, we're rolling. And action.
We've been patrolling these Newport Beach|streets together for, what... six years?
- Six and a half.|- Six and a half.
You know, when people think|Newport Beach they don't think "crime. "
They think palm trees, the beach.
But let me tell ya, we get as much crime|here as in any other city.
You know, proportionate-wise.
Proportionate-wise, obviously.
New York's got, what,|10 million people.
- Twelve million.|- Twelve million people.
So obviously there's more crime in New York|than Newport Beach. Proportionately.
What do you get here? Mostly|domestic violence crimes and theft, right?
- Yeah, we get all that stuff.|- I see.
But we get murder,|we get prostitution, we get drugs.
We get all that stuff.
Well, uh, what's the worst|thing you've ever seen?
Would it be that busload of seniors|that went off the cliff?
No, the kids.
Oh, God, yeah. The kids.
All units respond to hijacked red BMW.
Male Caucasian, armed and very dangerous,|holding female hostage.
- Vehicle headed south|on Ocean near Magnolia.
Suspect has fired on two officers.|Proceed with caution.
That's us.|This might be your lucky day.
Three-niner at the corner|of Magnolia and Viewcrest.
- In pursuit.|- Let's go get us a bad guy.
I'm burning up in here. Grab the wheel.
Look, I'm gonna let you go|as soon as it's safe.
Just stop making that noise.
I can't help it.
Just let me go.|You can have the car.
Oh, I can have the car.
That's very generous of you.
Let me think here for a minute.
- Please, just let me go.|- I said I would!
Jesus.! Just let me think.
Oh, God.
Listen, you're gonna have to be...
my little insurance policy right now.
If you just hang tough|for a few more minutes...
you're gonna be all right.
- Okay?|- Okay. Okay.
I know what you're thinking.
What rotten timing, huh?
If you hadn't gone in|for that magazine...
I feel exactly the same way.
If I hadn't gone in|for those lousy cigarettes...
This damn habit.|I gotta quit someday.
Very nice set of wheels|you got here. Very nice.
What, you got a phone,|all real leather.
How's a girl like you|able to afford a car like this?
My father gave it to me,|and it's yours if you just let me go.
Your father gave it to you.|Just like that?
Just said,|"Here, take the car. You can have it... "
Goddamn it!
There they are! Hang on!
In pursuit of hijacked red BMW,|southbound on Ocean, just past Horndale.
Request backup immediately.
Aah!
That was stupid!|That was really stupid!
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!|I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!
You wanna get shot? Rule number one:|you don't burn the guy with the gun.
- All right... Aah! Aah!|- Oh, God, don't kill me.!
- My father'll give you anything you want.!|- Oh, sh*t! Aah!
Ow! Grab it!|Get the lighter!
Ow! Sh*t!
Get this lighter... No.!
- What are you doing?|- What? What? What?
You told me to do that!
No, I told you to keep it from burning me,|not throw it out the window!
- Now how the hell am I supposed to smoke?|- I don't know!
This is just what I needed.
Sh*t!
Oh, God!
- Move! Move!|- Hey!
- Look out!|- Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Would you watch it!
We don't wanna get|any innocent commuters hurt.
We got a sticky situation. This girl's|relying on us to rescue her safely.
If I let this guy out of my sights...
there's a good possibility|that we will never see her alive again.
If we can get him to a place|where there's a minimum of traffic...
on a back road or something...
we can attempt|to shoot out the tires.
But the abundance of cars here|makes that highly dangerous.
Obviously, you always want to keep vehicular|intercourse down to a minimum at all times.
We don't want this guy spinning out|and hitting a busload of nuns or anything.
Bet you don't get this every day, huh?
Listen, what's the thing you like best|about being cops?
For me, it's the respect and power|that the position commands.
I feel like a combination of Bruce Springsteen|and Sylvester Stallone out there.
I don't know whether I oughta be|bustin'bad guys or signing autographs.
Kinda like being a star.
- I'm gonna throw up.|- What do you mean?
- I feel sick.|- No. Don't you dare.
Don't you dare throw up. Breathe. Take in|some air. Put your head out the window.
Well, don't drive so fast.
Don't drive so fast? What are you, mad?|I'm being chased by the cops!
When you're being chased by cops,|you drive fast. Got it?
Well, I get carsick!
Well, then, put your head out the goddamn|window! What are you waiting for?
She's got her head out the window!|What's she doing?
Maybe she's trying to signal us.
- Can you tell what she's saying?|- No, I can't make her face out clearly.
Oh! She's puking!
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