Dark Angel

$70,000 for this car and they put in

a piece of sh*t for a CD player!

Agh! Son of a b*tch!

Great! Goddammit!

Merry f***in' Christmas!

I come in peace!

Right. Sergeant Hawkins,

evidence room J-38.

38. Terrific.

Thanks.

Hey, how are you doing?

Sergeant Hawkins, please report to room

J-38. Sergeant Hawkins, room J-38.

Yeah? Hello?

What seems to be the problem here,

Officer?

- Hi.

- Hi.

Sign there.

- Must be some party.

- Pardon me, Officer?

Just a joke.

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

- Better hurry.

- What do you mean, man?

- It was clockwork!

- Better hurry!

- Jesus Christ! What the f*** was that?

- A little insurance.

- What the hell for?

- No witnesses!

When I told them their organisation

wasn't cost-effective, they didn't listen...

...so I felt the only way

to exploit my talents...

...was to branch out on my own.

- Mr...

- Davis.

Davis! Davis, Davis, that's right.

Jeff Davis. My point is this.

Much like yourself, I'm sure...

...at an early age

I envisioned that my education...

...would be my saving grace,

give me that necessary edge.

Let me give you just one example.

I sensed a problem when I realised...

...that MBAs were rapidly becoming

a devalued commodity.

I got right back into Princeton...

I picked up a second Masters

in International Banking...

- which I suppose is...

- What's with all the extra muscle?

- Evening, Mr Manning.

- Just think of them as couriers.

Yeah, right. Let's see what you got.

Come on, guys.

Education.

It's really so important.

- Can I call you Jeff?

- Whatever.

- Come on!

- Without a college degree...

...a Masters at least...

...a guy can become desperate.

- Might have to join the army.

- Turn to a life of crime?

- Or become a cop!

- Why don't we get down to business?

- What university did you attend?

- The university of suck my dick!

Party time!

- I love this sh*t!

- Perfect!

- Hi, folks.

- Hi.

Money! Money! Money!

- Is this deal going down or what?

- Whatever you say.

F***!

- Lights out, fatso!

- The switch is in the back!

F*** that!

Sh*t!

- Keep talking, guys!

- Goddammit!

- There's money!

- Shut up! Shut up!

Shut up! Shut up!

Actually, you're Turner, right?

Detective Ray Turner?

You got the money, Buzz? You done?

Buzz?

- You're not Buzz.

- You're not very smart.

You cops ought to know better than

to mess with me and my White Boys.

Drop it.

We've been on to your pathetic charade

for a week!

I said drop it!

What the f*** is he talking about?

Smile, Ray.

- Drop it, now!

- F*** you!

- Pack it up, gentlemen.

- Yes, sir!

- Who set this up, anyway?

- I don't know, sir.

If it was Warren, he should know better.

You boys pick up

every grain of that heroin.

- Out the back.

- Yes, sir, Mr Manning. Let's go!

Come on!

I come in peace!

What the fu...

- Merry Christmas. Keep an eye on him.

- You bet!

Son of a b*tch!

Ray!

Ray!

Ray!

Ray?

Come on, man! Come on!

Come on!

Sh*t!

I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna f***in' tear

his face off! That f*ggot!

Confirmation on the federal warehouse

explosion:
Nine dead, half a dozen injured.

Lovely!

Could you give us some information?

- Hi, Diane. It's a slaughterhouse.

- What's going on?

Looks like the White Boys

went through a Cuisinart.

Jesus! What the hell happened?

Five dead. Nobody saw or heard anything.

Nothing new for this part of town.

Caine was first on the scene.

He didn't see anything either.

Jack, I'm sorry about Turner.

I really am.

I'm so pissed off, I could throw you

through a goddam window!

But I'm not gonna do that right now.

It's not the time.

It's not the time

to break your f***in' neck, either!

I know how you feel about Ray.

What about Victor Manning?

He killed my goddam partner!

You disappeared for eight days!

A week I could understand...

...but eight f***in' days!

On top of all that, you've got to answer

for the stolen heroin, plus the 500 grand!

Captain Malone?

There's somebody here to see you.

Oh, great, Feds!

Their warehouse blows, they figure

they own the whole f***in' town!

Tell 'em...

- Tell 'em I'll be right there, OK?

- Yes, sir.

Right, you're off it.

You've got eight weeks' vacation coming.

Take it. All of it.

- Is that an order?

- No, worse.

Promise me.

Caine, you're the only man I know

who'd rather die than break his word.

- So promise me, and that's an order.

- I want Manning!

Take the vacation,

or I'll make it permanent!

Fine.

Good.

Oh, and if I were you, I'd take a little time

and patch up my personal life, too.

Detective Caine,

this is Agent Switzer of the FBI.

- He'd like to ask you a few questions.

- In private.

Do you know what I do, Detective?

I know things.

That's all. That's my whole job.

To know things before anyone else.

- So?

- I know you were after Victor Manning.

I also know

that these are no ordinary murders.

Three men had their throats cut

before drawing their weapons.

- Who could possibly move that fast?

- Not who. What.

I've seen a lot of knife wounds.

This was something different.

- You think the weapon's the key?

- Yes, I do.

- Know where I can locate Mr Manning?

- Look, I'd like to help.

But I was just put on vacation.

Or didn't you know that?

- Put Caine back on the case.

- Like hell I will!

I'd have to make one phone call.

You don't want that.

Well, Caine can't. He's going on vacation.

- Isn't that right, Caine?

- I said I'd go. I didn't say when.

- Fine. You heard him, you're on it.

- Good.

I'll send his partner over tomorrow.

Partner?

- Partner.

- Caine, meet Special Agent Smith.

- You're kidding, right?

- Cool it, Caine!

Mr Caine, I'm the youngest man

ever to reach my rank at the Bureau.

I make twice as much as you do,

so don't start that sh*t with me.

You are kidding.

Commander Switzer asked me to lay out

some parameters for you.

- Parameters?

- Sort of general guidelines...

- I know what the word means.

- Oh, good.

We will report to Inspector Switzer daily.

That means every day.

- No disappearing, not for a week...

- Eight days.

...not for a minute.

Are we in agreement here?

- You think...

- I know!

- Captain, the coroner's here.

- Thanks, Dee. Send her in.

- Hi.

- Hi.

What did Ballistics say about the weapon?

It was razor-thin and razor-sharp.

It made a deep incision

I'd have trouble making with a scalpel.

- How do you explain that?

- I can't.

- Diane?

- Look, I feel bad about Ray.

As bad as you do. But eight days,

Jack, and not even a phone call.

- Would you stop and listen?

- I don't want to hear it!

Hey, I like abuse as much as the next girl.

But this time, wondering

whether you were dead or alive...

I was kind of rooting for dead,

you know what I mean?

Diane... Hey!

Pretty healthy relationship

you've got there.

That's one.

- OK, number one on my list.

- We're going to the crime scene.

We should read the coroner's report first.

"Exploit experts.

Their expertise is essential."

Page 35 from the Switzer manual.

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