Savage Dog Page #3

the Americans will be next.

And we'll be in a great position

to make some money.

How much did you gamble?

Don't you worry your pretty

little head about it.

(Speaks Chinese)

Wait, wait, wait! Just wait a minute!

This evening, many people found

out that their great hero

has no honor.

They're in the bar waiting for you.

Look, look, look!

Here comes a gentleman now.

OK, fellas?

How did I do?

You lost.

What?

You have until the end

of the week to vacate.

The deed to this property,

everything and

everything inside,

now belongs to Monsieur Rastignac

Martin lost?

He knew?

He knew he was going to lose

but he let Valentine gamble?

You son of a b*tch!

Watch your tongue, black.

You don't wanna upset me.

You're awful! All of

you, cowardy cheats.

Not one of you has a thing up

to your bearing on Valentine.

You should be ashamed.

You and your pig.

Knock it off!

That's enough!

You've taken enough of us tonight.

Don't take anything more.

It ends here!

And no Spaniard in a cheap suit

with a paid-off contract

is gonna take anymore.

You understand?

Put it down, Valentine.

It's not fair.

You're not a killer.

What are you doing?

Everything OK, Valentine?

So, there you have it.

Killed by three slugs with my own 45.

Everything just ceased to matter.

Not my life,

the bar,

anything.

I just signed off.

It was a different story

with Martin and Isabelle.

The thing about a sewn-off shotgun is

it's sheer hell at close range.

But over a throw, not so much.

The force of the hit dropped Martin,

knocked him cold,

but it had missed everything vital.

Likewise with Isabelle,

the 45 that had finished me,

passed right through her.

She was a healthy, young woman.

And now, it's said the human

is the hardest animal to kill.

Martin had never had

much call for religion.

But there in the jungle he

reacquainted himself with his Maker.

He begged God to let him die there.

To take his life in

exchange for saving hers.

He offered God a proposal,

if she died, he'd follow her

into the twilight kingdom.

But if she lived,

it would become his mission

to quench with death

those responsible for what had happened.

She deserves better than either of us.

I bring bad luck to

the people around me.

Bad luck resides in our own conscious.

We inflict it on ourselves.

Though it broke his heart,

Martin knew

he could never see her again.

It had never been so God

damned clear as it was then.

He would have to kill them

all, only then could it end.

Steiner,

Rastignac,

Amarillo and Boon.

Just four men

were in Martin's mind.

Four reasons his life

had been destroyed.

(speaks a foreign language)

(Speaks French)

And I heard a voice,

in the midst of the four beasts.

And I looked,

and behold a pale horse,

and his name that sat on him was death

and hell followed with him.

I'm looking for Rastignac and Steiner.

Why?

Rastignac

and Steiner.

(Speaks a foreign language)

Don't go inside. No fight.

Cognac for you.

Martin!

Give him a drink!

No, no, give him the good stuff!

See?

The thing that Martin knew

that they didn't was,

that in a bar fight,

the man with nothing to lose,

was the man to bet on.

I'm gonna kill you.

And if your men try to stop me,

I'll f***ing kill them too.

A wise man once said:

"Fear the hanged man because

he's dead already".

Martin Tillman is still alive.

He walked in Valentine's

bar with just a machete,

killed everyone!

They had machine guns,

shotguns, Steiner!

He kept them down like

they weren't even there.

Like a demon.

A fighter, you killed that bear,

it has come back to life.

I'll just find him and kill him again.

You would allow it for the

gentle rule of exaggeration.

I'd say we have a problem on our hands.

Are you afraid, Steiner?

You're getting old.

Let's just say I'm not

taking any chances.

I'll kill anyone I find to be a threat.

But he can't do anything to us.

What can he do to us?

He'll go after our money, that's

where I would strike first.

Our money is at my safe, at the villa.

You have to stay here.

There's a full squad

there, they're armed.

You'll be fine.

No, I'm deeply sorry, I'm not going.

I am not going.

Take Constantine,

he'll take care of you.

Constantine?

(Speaks French)

Go home.

Louis XIII's cognac.

Nearly a century old.

an excellent choice for this occasion.

He'd had to be out of

his mind to come here.

If he does, I'll kill him.

Then I'll buy dinner as an

apology for this inconvenience.

(Speaks French)

Kill him!

You go! You go!

Martin,

there is enough for both of us, look!

We can get out of this.

Look!

I've been prepared to die,

so many times in my life.

Martin, this man is so repugnant.

A man should go before his Maker

properly attired.

Today I'll be mobilizing an entire

strike force to keep one man

from entering a police station.

Consider him deceased, my friend.

Let's go!

What would you think of me?

For as long as he could remember,

Martin had been fighting.

Whether it was harassing the English,

hunting the Viet Minh or even

knocking fellas down for money.

Martin had fought for many things.

But never for revenge.

Revenge was pure, it was simple

and it would allow almost any

means to achieve its end.

No matter how ruthless.

Now, it wasn't as though Martin had any

premonition or any strategic knowledge.

He just figured,

it wasn't a good plan to

go through the front door.

Grenade!

No, not that easy.

Go!

Go! go!

The corridor! He's coming

in the front door!

Min!

Go!

Marcus, stay here.

P*ssy ass.

Take it!

Look at this face.

Look into my eyes!

Do you think I've never

faced that before?

Better men than you have tried.

I will not...

I will not allow you the satisfaction.

You're a scum that got

lucky for a day or two.

I... I'm an aristocrat.

I was a fighter once.

Let's see how good you are.

I have no fight with you.

You're wrong.

This place is my life.

I supported my parents,

my wife,

my children...

Now I have nothing.

I can't help you with that.

There's a price on your head, Irishman.

That's good enough.

Turn the guns around, he's coming!

It's not until you face death,

that you truly appreciate life.

Wait for him to leave cover,

then fire on my command.

What are you doing, Martin?

Fire!

Cease fire!

Pierre, go check on the target.

The rest of you be ready to provide

cover and fire on my command.

Never send a boy to do a man's job.

Seor Artignac, where are you going?

Give me your gun!

He's fighting like a pygmy.

To the building, now!

You wanna live or you wanna die?

I wanna live!

Losing your appetite for blood, Martin?

Not really.

Not many men I've granted the

opportunity to duel for their life.

(They speak a foreign language)

Bedfellows like money and

power build it together.

Rastignac had lost his money,

and all of his influence along with it.

With no collateral,

He was just another no-account European

of a late depravity.

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