Hard Target Page #4

the one l gave you for your birthday ?

No. A gator ate it.

But, uh,

l've still got

your shotgun.

So tell me, this mans

what chase after you,

he mad at you

for business or pleasure ?

- Both.

- Uh-huh.

l'm going to take Elvira south,

then to Bayou La Fouche,

Mardi Gras graveyard.

lf you can talk her

into it, go ahead.

You be careful.

Don't worry about me.

l love the company.

Be careful.

Without you, l'm hunting them.

He's gonna be all right.

Oui. Come.

We go.

Here, drink. But do not spill.

lt kill the grass.

The place is clean.

He just left.

Get the f*** down !

Hey !

Hold it !

Boudreaux is the target

we're after.

You are a f***ing buffalo !

Move !

Boudreaux went this way, maybe ten,

He's trying to lead us

away from his friends.

Get in

the f***ing trucks.

Move ! F***ing move !

Will you move ? Move !

They're f***ing brain-dead.

Get the helicopter.

Find Boudreaux.

- We'll set up an ambush

this side of Bayou La Fouche.

- l can take him from the air.

Any pinhead can take him from the air.

l want to take him from the ground !

l can take him

from the air.

- Be a professional, Pick.

- Hey, you're making a mistake here.

Make sure

he gets there, Pick.

That's him.

Hey, pigeon.

Avril Pybus has a store

two miles this way.

You go to a telephone,

call the sheriff.

You know,

chre, l think you should

call the sheriff.

lt appears your trophy's

ripping us a new orifice.

Let me review the tactical situation

for you, gentlemen.

Boudreaux is wounded.

He's been pursued and harried...

across miles of open country.

Now he's cornered

and outnumbered 20 to 1.

He's an annoying little

f***ing insect...

and l want him

stepped on, hard.

You're not angry with me,

are you, Pick ?

l don't get angry.

l'm a professional.

Let's move !

This is not good.

lf we walk away now,

we can be in Mexico in five hours.

What the f*** is the matter

with you, Pick ?

Hunting drunks in alleys

made you soft ?

God, that son-of-a-b*tch

is good !

Goddamn it, l'm gonna blow

his goddamn head off !

What are you lookin' at,

you sons-of-b*tches ?

This is what you paid for !

Get him !

Seal off this place.

The son-of-a-b*tch

is mine.

Sorry about the shirt.

Give it a rest, pal.

- Now what do you want to do ?

- Now--

Now we put arrow into everyone

what's not Chance, huh ?

Come.

You f***in' b*tch !

Now--

Now look what you do.

Give me this gun.

l take care all this bad guy.

Give me this gun !

Chance !

- l told you to go for help.

- But we help.

All these men try to kill you.

We're here to help.

Boudreaux,

Boudreaux, Boudreaux.

l've been looking

all over for you.

- You've been looking

in the wrong places.

- That's good,

'cause l know you wouldn't

want to... hurt my feelings.

Can you get up ?

l cannot dance,

but l can get up.

Hey !

Hey !

You lucky son-of-a-b*tch !

- You want some more of that ?

- Yeah !

How does it feel

to be hunted ?

You tell me !

You should know better.

There isn't a country in the world

l haven't fired a bullet in!

You can't kill me!

You can't kill me!

l'm on every battlefield!

There's no winner here!

l don't see one.

You're looking at him!

Come on, you son-of-a-b*tch !

Take your best shot !

Chance !

Chance !

My boy !

Just shoot him !

You won't do that, will you,

Mr. Boudreaux?

- Chance, please !

- lf he shoots me, he'll kill you.

He's picked the wrong tool

for the job.

Put the weapon down...

or l'll run her through !

No !

You see, Miss Binder,

you l can understand;

it was a matter of family.

You had nothing in common

with those people.

What made you want to

complicate my life like this ?

Poor people get bored too.

- Come here.

- Please.

Load me.

Hunting season... is over.

Douvee !

Douvee !

What is this noise ?

l was dreaming.

Chre, l think about you.

l tell this turkey,

he no kill this eagle.

Some headache l got here!

Oh, my God.

- What ?

- l think l hurt pretty bad.

Now this,

this real catastrophe !

- This real bad.

- Yeah, real bad.

Ah, when l was just

a little boy

A-standin'

to my daddy's knee

My papa said, Son

don't let the man get ya

And do

what he done to me

Born on the bayou

Born on the bayou

Born on the bayou

Lord, lord

Wish l was back

on the bayou

Rollin'

with some cajun queen

A-wishin' l were

a fast freight train

A-just a-chooglin'

on down to New Orleans

Born on the bayou

Born on the bayou

Mmm, mmm, mmm

Born on the bayou

Doin' it, doin' it

doin' it, doin' it

Lord

Oh, get back now

Well, l can remember

the fourth of July

A-runnin' through

the backwood bare

And l can still hear

my ol' hound dog barkin'

Chasin' down

a hoodoo there

Chasin' down

a hoodoo there

Born on the bayou

Born on the bayou

Ohh, ohh

Born on the bayou

All right

Do it, do it, do it

do it

Mmm, ohh

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