Predestination

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1

What if I could put him in front of you?

The man that ruined your life?

If I could guarantee

that you'd get away with it

would you kill him?

The Blackmore Cross.

I understand it's your second.

Congratulations.

You have served honorably.

So that's it?

The order from the board

will come through shortly.

The final order?

Yes.

And the Bomber?

It's not your problem anymore.

I don't need to remind you

of the critical nature

of your final mission.

So please rest.

Every suspect educates us.

Makes us better at what we do.

No more than this elusive sociopath.

He's efficient.

Precise with his timings.

The press have dubbed

him the Fizzle Bomber.

We stopped him this time.

But this was only a small attack.

This is his grand plan.

March 1975.

He keeps changing the day.

The explosion will level

10 blocks of New York

and leave over 11,000 dead.

Everything we've done

to stop him has failed.

But I was close this time.

Just one more try.

Grafts have taken.

The reconstructive transplant is stable.

But you understand

you will look different

to what you remember.

Eyes will heal.

You should recover

well for this final mission.

And then I'll be decommissioned.

It's not just the physical injuries.

You've logged more field hours

than any of the other agents

I've been assigned to.

The risks are real.

The scars have begun to heal nicely.

Your vocal cord damage has reduced

but will not regrow exactly the same way.

There goes my singing career.

It will take some getting used to.

I've changed so much

that I doubt

my own mother would recognize me.

The order finally came through today.

I guess

it was inevitable.

By the time you listen

to this seven years will have passed.

Our first mission

is just as important as our last.

Each one getting us

closer to our final destination.

Sir, please raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly swear

to uphold the rules and regulations

- set forth by T.B.R. Code 7286?

- I do.

Do you accept that any diversion

from your mission parameters

will result in immediate court martial?

And if convicted

death by lethal injection.

I do.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Time. It catches up with us all.

Even those in our line of work.

I guess you could say we're gifted.

God, Jesus, it sounds arrogant

saying that out loud.

All right.

I'll put it a better way.

I guess you could say

we were born into this job.

Hey, look at this freak.

There you go, Derek.

What can I get you?

Old Underwear.

Old Underwear. Straight up?

Leave the bottle.

From the look of you

I'm guessing you're not celebrating.

From the look of me?

What do I look like?

Just making conversation. Jesus.

He's down!

Hey, bud, two more.

Chaser, right?

You're new.

Yeah, I've been working

here a couple of weeks.

Yeah? How's it working out?

It's been quiet.

People staying home.

Because of the big, bad Fizzle Bomber?

Yeah, I guess.

Love it.

Like hiding makes you any safer.

Doesn't scare you?

Worrying about every freak show

on the subway won't change things.

That is true.

Haven't seen you around.

You come here often?

What are you, a f*ggot?

What's your problem?

Hey!

I was joking man. Jesus.

Yeah, well, that's not funny.

Tell me a good one then.

- What, a joke?

- Yeah, come on.

You know, a free shot. Come on.

No, no, I don't know any.

You work in a bar for Chrissakes.

Surely you know a joke.

No, I'm terrible with jokes.

Never remember them.

One joke?

All right, I know one.

But it's not funny.

I'm all ears.

All right, well, a guy

walks into a bar, right?

- Jesus, man.

- Just kidding. No, no, no.

I got a good one. I got a good one.

What comes first, the chicken or the egg?

The rooster.

Oh, sh*t, see? I'm terrible.

That's the best you got?

- Yeah, well...

- That's not funny.

I told you it wasn't.

You ever think about that, though?

About what?

You know, about what comes first.

What do I care?

- I got more important sh*t to worry about.

- All right.

Well, you're a big deal, you know.

You got important things to do, right?

What do you do?

Whatever I have to.

Yeah, well it's tough

making a living, that's for sure.

What do you know about tough?

As much as the next guy, I guess.

How about as much as an unmarried mother?

What does that mean?

Four cents a word, I write

confession stories.

"The Unmarried Mother" is my pen name.

Are you serious?

Yeah.

Right. Right!

How's business?

Business is okay. I have a weekly column.

I write them, they print them, I eat.

Right?

- What, you read my work?

- Yeah, yeah.

Does that surprise you?

- Yeah, a little.

- Why?

You don't fit the demo.

The demo?

- The demographic.

- Right. Right.

You know, broken women

who want to feel better

about their pitiful lives by reading

hard luck stories of

heartbreak and betrayal

spewed across the glossy pages

of 25 cent pulp sludge.

Yeah, exactly.

Yeah, well you're being a little hard

on yourself, don't you think?

It's garbage.

I thought I had some talent

telling stories but who am I kidding?

I mean, you tell me. You've read them.

I have to admit I've had a few

dark nights

when I've looked to you for a little

insight into the feminine mind.

You know, it seems to me

you've got a real hit on the woman's angle.

- Woman's angle?

- Yeah.

Yeah, I know the woman's angle.

I should.

Why, you married? You got sisters?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

The one thing that this job has taught me

is that truth is stranger than fiction.

I have heard some incredible sh*t.

Nothing astonishes me anymore.

You don't know what incredible means.

Yeah? Well, try me.

Here you go. I got that.

Forget it, man. I'm not telling you.

You're scared it's not good enough.

- You think that'll work?

- Yeah.

What are we, 12?

Come on.

Bet you the rest of that bottle

I got the best story you ever heard.

Bet you a full bottle.

What do you say?

If I lose?

Just add a 20 to the tip.

Why not?

Hey, man.

- Two Buds, bud.

- Right.

Mayor Davidson,

how do you respond to the fact

that many New Yorkers are leaving the city

in fear of a fifth attack

by the Fizzle Bomber?

We've got extra police patrols

on 24 hour shifts around the city.

We've created a joint task force

with the Federal Bomb Squad

and the FBI in order

to track down the suspect.

What a stupid name.

"Fizzle Bomber."

The guy makes compressed

RDX-based explosive compounds.

That's not easy.

"Fizzle Bomber" is easier to remember.

I hate that name.

Makes it sound like his bombs just fizzle.

Like they don't do any real damage.

I don't think anybody's doubting

how dangerous this a**hole is.

Well, there's a lot of selfish a**holes

out there needing a good shake up.

They should be afraid.

Well, he's killed 112 people already.

Some people just gotta go.

Stops the gene pool right in its tracks.

Yeah.

Maybe he's doing the city a favor.

Better be careful who hears you say that.

What, you think I'm wrong?

I'm just saying

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