Cement, Substitution, Cocaine: The Chase Page #2

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- Aah! - Gross!|- Oh, God!

- She's puking.!|- That will never make prime time.

That is a lot of puke.

I can't see a damn thing.

Oh, God.

Guess she wasn't signaling us.

- You okay?|- No.

Do me a favor, will ya.|Chew some gum or something.

Your breath smells|like my grandmother's feet.

Where are the other backups?|We only got one other car here with us.

Unit 39, most units unavailable|due to the funeral...

of Captain Lembeck|in Long Beach.

All remaining available units|should be en route.

If Lembeck knew that his funeral was impeding|a pursuit with hostages, he'd go nuts.

Get those other cops off their cans, will ya?|We're naked out here.

All available units, please respond in|the vicinity of San Remos and Point Vale.

High-speed pursuit in progress.

Red BMW...

license plate number 4-nickel-adam-thomas-|leo-edward-edward.

I do not run my division...

on a shoot first,|ask questions later philosophy!

- Excuse me, sir.|- Can't you see I'm busy?

I think you're gonna want to know|about this right away, sir.

Wejust got a positive I.D. on that red BMW.

Hold on to your beans, sir.|It's registered to a Miss Natalie Nordhoff Voss.

She's the young lady hostage, sir.

So who's Natalie Nordhoff Voss?

Voss, sir, like in Dalton Voss.

No. Not the Dalton Voss.

Are you saying that our hostage|belongs to Dalton Voss?

Yes, sir.|His one and only daughter.

- Holy sh*t!|- Yes, sir.

- How many cars in pursuit?|- Two, sir.

- Two? There oughta be 20! Why are there only two?|- Uh, the funeral, sir.

- A third car is on its way.|- Three stinking little cars.

- Where's our chopper?|- We loaned it to that film company, sir.

- Well, why the hell did we do that?|- You approved it, sir.

We haven't needed to use the chopper|since that Marin County brush fire, sir.

This is a fine how-do-you-do.|Get that chopper back now!

Now, who's Natalie Voss?

Only Dalton Voss's daughter.

Dalton Voss|is the Donald Trump of California.

One of the richest men in America.|You guys really struck gold tonight, huh?

Well, I gotta do what I gotta do.|Get down to Mexico much?

- No. Why?|- 'Cause that's where we're headed.

I wasn't planning on company, but...

Oh, my God! Mexico?

Oh, God, just stop the car and let me go!|Just let me out!

You are really starting|to get on my nerves.

I'm in a bit of a bind here, so put on|your seat belt. We're getting on the freeway.

Sh*t! This is bad!|This is really bad!

Oh, I can't say the "S" word|on TV, can I?

- It's cool. We'll bleep it.|- All right, yeah.

Why is this so "bad"?

Taking the chase on the freeway heightens|the stakes. It complicates things greatly.

This guy's really pissing me off!

Sh*t.

And if you're traveling|along the 5 into L. A...

And if you're traveling|along the 5 into L. A...

there's a slight bottleneck|along theJohn Wayne northbound.

Yeah, it seems an overturned gravel truck|on the shoulder is causing some slowing.

Other than that,|it's a pretty good commute into the n...

Whoa.! Wait a second.!|Wait a second.!

I think we got a situation developing|on the southbound lane.

Yes, it appears we're|picking up a high-speed pursuit.

Bill and Wendy,|do you see this in the studio?

Yes, Byron, we surely do.

It does appear as though we're watching|a high-speed chase unfold live.

Bill, I'm gonna follow this late-breaking|story, see if we can get a little bit closer.

Uh, Andy, uh, take it down a little bit|and see if you can stay with the red car.

Three Newport Beach police cars|are taking every precaution...

so as not to cause|any kind of traffic accident.

They seem to be following at a safe distance|behind what appears to be...

a late-model BMW.

Oh, yeah.|They're after this guy, all right.

He must've done something.

Whoa! Ho!|Did you see that?

Oh, n...|Watch out. Watch out.

Holy mackerel!

That medical school truck is spilling out|cadavers all along the freeway.!

That's repugnant.!

Gross!

Aaah! Get it off!

Jeez!

Get it off!

Eeeww!

Now, that's disgusting.

I'll say.|Stay with him, Byron.

We're going to try to get|some more information...

from the Newport Beach|Police Department...

on this fast-breaking, exclusive|Channel 8 high-speed chase in progress.

Oh, no! God!|Oh, my God!

Jesus! What are you trying to do,|give me a heart attack?

Rule number one|is no loud screaming.

I thought rule number one was|no burning the guy with the gun.

You might just be a little too feisty|for your own good.

Christ. Okay, rule number two is|no loud screaming.

Stop waving that thing in my face.

Am I holding the gun in your face?|I don't think so.

You know, I can be a pretty likable guy|when I'm not pointing a gun at somebody.

I know you don't believe me,|but it's true. You gotta trust me.

Aw, sh*t! Why do things|always go so wrong for me?

- Maybe you bring it on yourself.|- Maybe you don't know what you're talking about!

- Maybe I do.|- Maybe you're a brat.

Maybe I am.|Please just stop and let me out.

- I promise I won't let them shoot you.|- Oh, you won't. That's nice.

I appreciate that,|but I can't do that. Not yet.

So, seeing that we're gonna be traveling|companions for a while...

I thought we should|get better acquainted.

My name is Jack.|And you are?

- You can't do this.|- Do what?

This.! You c...

You can't just kidnap somebody|and threaten to kill them...

and then expect them|to be cute and nice.

- Why not?|- You just can't. Okay? It doesn't work that way.

You are a terrorist.|Why should I be nice back to you?

All right, first of all,|I am not a terrorist.

Terrorists have ratty beards|and blow up airports.

Secondly, there are no rules|on how to kidnap people.

There's no rule that says|you can't be cordial and nice.

And quite frankly, for my first time out,|I think I'm doing a hell of a job.

- Now tell me your name!|- Only if you get rid of the gun. It scares me.

Oh, right. I'll do that, you'll do|something stupid, I'll crash the car.

- I don't think so.|- I'm not gonna do anything stupid.

I just... I... I hate guns.

There? Are you satisfied?

- I'm only doing that to ease your mind.|- Thank you.

Now, as I said before, my name is Jack.|And you are?

Natalie. Natalie Voss.

Natalie Voss.

That's nice.

What, are you related|to Dalton Voss or something?

- He's my father.|- Yeah, right. Get out.

I- It was a joke. I was joking.

I wasn't.

This is insane. You're Dalton Voss's daughter?|The Dalton Voss?

Do you have any idea|how goddamn rich that man is?

Yes, thank you very much.

He is my father,|as if you didn't know.

As if I didn't know.

- What?|- I just... This just...

This just sucks! It sucks!

Because now they're gonna think I kidnapped|you because you're Dalton Voss's daughter.

Why me?|Why me?

I go in for some cigarettes|and a tank of gas...

and I wind up kidnapping|the daughter of Dalton Voss.

- What are the odds?|- I would say pretty good.

- You were probably stalking me.|- Don't flatter yourself, kid.

- I was just passing through town.|- A likely story.

Jesus, you are a brat.

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