The Hit List Page #2

I mean, I've been working there for nine years.

I mean, I was relying on it. I had... Investments.

There's always someone else.

Our own expendability, that's all you

can ever really count on in this life.

Yeah, tell me about it.

Doesn't really explain the eye, though.

It's a bit complicated,

to say the least.

I guess some investments can really cost you.

Yeah.

Can you keep them coming, please? Thanks.

I've known her for years.

Since college.

I've known Mike... I met him just before.

And Mike is?

He was my best friend.

Your best friend that's f***ing your wife?

Yeah, well, he's not my... Yeah, yeah.

Well, it's okay, then.

Yeah, son of a b*tch was my best man at our wedding.

You know, Allan, what you said before, you were right.

You are a human punching bag.

You allow your boss to pass you

over like a Jewish holiday.

You obviously allowed someone to

work one over on you pretty good.

And you allowed your wife to f*** another guy.

I wouldn't say I allowed it.

Yes, you did, Allan. You allowed it. All of it.

You're the one who said it.

You're so afraid to stand up for yourself

no matter what anyone does to you.

That makes you a self-perpetuating

victim of circumstance.

I'm not looking for any sympathy here.

I just wanted to have some...

Shoulder. I get it. Your problem,

Allan, is that you're weak.

Your wife sees it. That's why she figures

she can sleep with your best friend.

Your best friend, he sees it.

That's why he figures he can wrap legs with her

and not suffer any real consequences.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I think you're... You're crossing the line a little bit.

Okay.

Who the hell are you

to tell me who I am and who I'm not?

As far as I see it, I'm the closest thing

to a friend you've ever really had.

I mean, we've known each other

for what, two hours? Come on...

How long did you know Mike?

Look how that turned out.

I'm your friend, Allan,

because I got the balls to be brutally honest with you.

Complete and total openness,

no skipping paragraphs.

Everybody else in your life is full of sh*t.

You know, for somebody who claims

to know so little about people,

you certainly got everything figured out.

Hmm?

It's part of my job.

What's that? You're like a...

You a shrink? You shrink heads

for a living? What do you do?

I'm a professional killer, Allan.

Bullshit.

Jim O'Bannon,

that guy we saw on the TV earlier?

Hmm. What about him?

Yeah, right.

When I said I wasn't much of a people person,

I meant I always work alone.

But I always know my opponent.

That's how I can read people so well.

Seriously?

If it was a joke, would it be funny?

Seriously?

Okay, fine. Let's say hypothetically,

you killed O'Bannon. Why?

I was paid to perform a job, but then decided

to come here and do O'Bannon instead.

Personal reasons.

That's pretty sloppy for a so-called professional.

I mean, you come here, you kill O'Bannon,

and then you give a tell-all to a complete stranger.

But we're not complete strangers,

Allan. We're friends, remember?

Here we go.

Here, I'll prove it.

Write down five names.

What?

Pretend you just paid me a considerable

amount of money.

I work for you now.

You want five people dead, and you're gonna

write their names on that napkin.

Okay, come on. Come on.

Everybody has names, Allan.

Especially you.

Okay. I'll play along.

So what, like, what specific order do you want?

What do you want?

Let's say number five dies first

and then I work my way up.

Number one being the priority.

Five, okay, so I'll put, five. Okay,

how about... Okay, five.

Fred Gates. You know, the boss

that I was telling you about.

Okay. Thanks.

Okay, Fred Gates.

Number four. Brian Felzner.

The guy that got your promotion.

He stole my idea.

He did. He stole my idea. He put

his little spin on it, whatever.

But he stole my idea, Jonas.

And this is the kind of douchebag, let me tell you.

I hate people like this.

They drive around in their little

cars, and they have these...

You know, the personalized license plates.

His says "Feltz" on it.

I mean, he should die just for that reason.

Okay, so Brian Felzner. That's number four.

Like I said, Allan, I can read you like an open book.

Number three.

You're gonna like this one.

Dom Escatdo.

Is that a cartoon character?

That's the one who, you know,

gave me the bump here.

The investment. Yeah.

Then his number's definitely up.

Number two.

It's a tough one. Mike Dodd.

Again, not without just cause.

And number one...

My sweet little wife.

Well, then that b*tch definitely got to go.

Okay, okay. There you go.

There you go.

Now you can psychoanalyze me all you want.

It's a good list, Allan. No Dr. Phils.

I'm gonna take a leak. This is...

This is therapeutic. This feels good.

It's too bad you're not the real thing, Jonas.

What the hell!

As far as I see it, I'm the closest thing

to a best friend you've ever had.

I just wanted you to know we slept together, Allan.

We slept together, Allan.

You allowed your wife to f*** another guy.

Hey, Allan.

You care? You really don't care, do you?

Felzner is the future.

Congratulations. Thank you, sir.

It's as simple as that.

Your problem, Allan, is that you're weak.

Hey.

Yeah, trying to get ahead.

Is that the new power color?

Trying to get ahead.

Strong choice, man.

Trying to get ahead, you fell behind.

You are a human punching bag.

Look at your f***ing face. Look at your f***ing face.

You think I actually believe that's an accident.

I work for you now.

You want five people dead,

and you're gonna write their names on that napkin.

F***ing your wife. F***ing your

wife. F***ing your wife.

Oh, God. Hello?

Where are you?

Why haven't you called me back?

Maybe 'cause I knew it was you, Syd.

I've been calling you all night, Allan.

I thought maybe with the way your face looked...

Why do you care? Why do you care where I've been?

I care, and you know that.

I just needed...

Sh*t.

McKay!

Come on, boss. I just got here.

We just got another shooting.

Where? Out by Frankfurt.

Weird thing is it looks like it ties into O'Bannon.

Oh, yeah? How so?

Ballistics matched the slugs we took out of O'Bannon

and his bodyguards.

They've ID'd them as something

called a 5.7 millimeter.

Really?

You know something?

The 5.7's only been on the market a few years.

It's nasty sh*t.

Super accurate, screaming hot velocity,

kind of stuff you find on the battlefield,

not in your backyard. That's just great.

So tell me more about this new one.

Like I said, same MO as before.

Only this time it looks like he took his time with it.

Crime scene figures after the first shot to the belly,

he let him flail around for an hour or so

before finishing him off with two more to the head.

Okay, so this one's a little more

personal. Who's the vic?

Hey, man.

What the hell is going on?

You didn't hear?

No, Drew. What's going on?

Gates, man. He's dead.

What?

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