Lone Wolf Mcquade Page #2

---

in that Italian racing job. Quite a crash.

Clark ran with a pretty tough crowd

and talk is it wasn't an accident.

But nobody can prove it.

Shame, though.

All that fruit just rotting on the vine.

Doesn't look too rotten to me.

- Sally!

- Foxy!

- Sally!

- Help me!

Help!

It's all right. It's OK.

- You all right, honey?

- Yeah.

Thank you.

- What's your name?

- Sally.

- Next time, Sally, be more careful.

- I will.

I wanna thank you for what you did.

The name's Jim McQuade.

The infamous Texas Ranger.

Pleased to meet you.

(car horn)

This is Rawley Wilkes, my late husband's

partner. Ranger McQuade.

And now you're my partner.

I understand you're very good

with your hands and feet.

Pretty good.

Rawley was all-European

karate champion.

Is that right?

Ranger Brown. Sally.

Ranger McQuade, it was especially nice.

Oh, by the way, Rawley's giving a little

martial arts display by the racetrack.

- Just a little exhibition.

- Why don't you gentlemen drop on by?

- I don't think we...

- Oh, it'd be our pleasure, ma'am.

Good.

Hey, Foxy.

- Wait. What are you doin'?

- I wanna ride.

- Are you sure?

- Sure I'm sure. Excuse me, please.

Gallop. Let's go.

Never backs down, does she? Reminds

you of somebody else in her family.

But choosin's never easy and

I can't decide which one I'd rather see

There's a woman from El Paso and I

know she will be comin' here this evening

She'll be wearing a red dress and

I know the one with whom she'll be leavin'

There's another girl from Dallas...

- You got Pearl beer?

- No. Heineken, Michelob or Dos Equis.

Forget it.

- Bottom shelf, Sam.

- Yes, ma'am.

(woman) It's Rawley showing off.

This should be very interesting.

I see we are graced with the presence

of a media favourite, Ranger JJ McQuade.

Care to go for one, Ranger?

A little wager, perhaps?

No, thanks. I don't fight for money.

I don't want you dancin' with no greaser.

You are a greaser, aren't you?

Excuse me a minute.

- Quit while you're ahead, partner.

- Who the hell asked you?

Let me show you.

Come on, tough guy.

Boys are just havin' a little fun.

Do you wanna join the fun?

This is not my idea of fun!

Please let me apologise. Some of my

friends could learn a little manners.

Maybe you need some new friends.

Music! Play!

(cackles)

This was my party.

We should have booked those bastards.

If I locked up every guy who took a swing

at me, half the county'd be behind bars.

Well, you're makin' a real habit

of saving my ass. I appreciate it.

- You take a good punch, kid.

- I'll take old hamburger-face home.

- Good idea.

- Come on, boy.

You look like you could use

a change of scenery. Come on.

I'll drive.

Cuidado, mis cuates, la chota.

Not too popular, are you?

They understand me.

Por favor.

Una botella de mezcal, dos limones

y si me puede limpiar la mesa. Gracias.

- Mezcal?

- Yes.

How about a kiss, baby?

Excuse me.

Time to leave.

Watch out!

- Sally, get back here.

- Nope.

Hey, come on. Open up.

Let me in. Come on, Sally.

- Nope.

- Come on, open the door. Let me in.

- You promise you won't try anything?

- I promise. Let me in.

OK.

- Aaargh!

- Bobby!

- You promised. Cut it out.

- I lied.

(trucks starting up)

- What is it?

- It's coming from down on the highway.

Stay here.

Bobby?

(gunfire)

Holy sh*t.

Let's get out of here.

Get down.

What do you guys want?

No!

Bobby! No!

(screaming and sobbing)

See you around.

(woman on radio) Come in, 6R1.

Can you read me?

- 6R1 here. Over.

- Roger, 6R1.

We've got a multiple fatality and injury

on I-10 south of Estelline.

I'm going home. Is there anyone closer?

Negative. You'd better go. We've been

notified that your daughter's involved.

- My daughter?

- (siren)

- Sally McQuade.

- Room 418.

Ranger! Wait!

Please. She needs rest.

She was very lucky.

Bobby...

Bueno.

(siren)

Howdy, Ranger.

The feds. They've taken over.

Marcus Jackson, FBI, Houston.

- McQuade, Texas Ranger.

- I know.

I'm sorry about your daughter,

but this is a federal case.

From now on, it's out of your jurisdiction.

There's brass everywhere. 9mm.

Excuse me. Get it to the lab. I want a

ballistics report. Let's see what we got.

I guess this is his show.

There were pages blowin'

all over the place when I got here.

I kept this one.

It's a logbook page from an army convoy.

Fort Nelson.

Ranger?

- Hello. Lieutenant Dade, Shipping.

- McQuade, Texas Ranger, El Paso.

I'm calling to verify that shipment

number... 5501 left Fort Nelson yesterday.

Yes, sir, it certainly did.

- What were the contents of those trucks?

- Sir, I'm not at liberty to say.

- Who is?

- Colonel McNeil, sir.

- Would you connect me, please?

- Yes, sir.

(knock at door)

- Colonel McNeil's office.

- Could I speak to the colonel?

- He isn't in today.

- When do you expect him?

- I haven't the faintest idea.

- Where is he?

- I don't know.

- Lady, what the hell do you know?

I only work for the colonel.

I don't sleep with him.

You won't get anywhere that way, Ranger.

Follow me.

- What the hell are you doing?

- Accessing into Aristotle.

- Who?

- The military central computer.

You see, I borrowed the codes

from the Texas Criminal Info Center.

- Sh*t. - If you get it figured

out, kid, let me know.

Wait, Ranger, I'm in. I got it.

I got it.

They got a shitload of guns. Oh, man.

- Look at that.

- Holy sh*t.

- Good job, kid. Really a good job.

- Thanks, Ranger.

(McQuade) Here's our little Judas goat.

- What's his connection?

- His name's Snow.

Hustler, dealer, pimp, you name it.

There isn't any dirt

he doesn't have his hands in.

What do you say

we pay him a visit, Ranger?

Let's go.

- You gonna park?

- Hang on.

What?

You're learning, kid.

I see I got a lot more to learn.

Come on, kid.

Son of a b*tch.

Whoops.

Senora?

Dond fue el hombre que pas ahorita?

Gracias.

- Remember me, Snow?

- J-Jesus!

Watch it!

Round the front.

Muchas gracias.

Goddammit! Sh*t!

Don't!

- No! No!

- Come on!

(Snow moans and whimpers)

Come on.

- Take him.

- I'll call the fire department.

Later. I need to talk to him

before I let the feds have him.

You're gettin' more slippery all the time,

ain't you?

Come on. How many times

have I busted you, you son of a b*tch?

- Argh! It hurts my hand!

- Yeah, it does, don't it?

(Snow) You son of a b*tch!

Can I borrow that contraption?

Sure.

What are you gonna do?

Stop! Wait!

(Dakota) Got something to say, pissant?

I know who you want.

It's the Mexican Mafia man, Falcon.

Emilio Falcon?

They're heistin' guns everywhere.

All they can get.

What are they gonna do

with all that hardware?

I said, what are they gonna do

with all that hardware?

Sh*t! They fly 'em off to Mexico, to

Central America, to terrorists and stuff!

All over the place.

I don't know.

They're gonna kill my son, man!

Goddammit!

Please? Please?

Please, man. Let me go, goddammit.

You stay right there, boy.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes