The Hunting Party Page #4

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- The police.

Need a good laugh.

War criminals?

Believe it or not,

we don't even have a copy

of the complete indictment list.

- You don't?

- No.

Do you have a copy?

I could always Xerox it.

Miriam, is the copier working again?

Word has it there's a bunch of them

living right here in Foca.

Could be.

Unfortunately, we're here

to reform the police force,

not hunt for war criminals.

But it wouldn't be much hunting.

I mean, most of them are listed

right in the phone book.

As I said, we're not authorized

to arrest war criminals.

- You are the international police, right?

- Yes.

Under the flag of the United Nations.

I thought the UN was looking

for war criminals.

We are. Aggressively.

There's a $5 million reward, you know?

But you said you don't have

an indictment list.

We don't.

Donut?

Donut.

Flown in from Bonn.

Very black market.

I particularly like the chocolate ones

with the rainbow sprinkles.

You see, it's the UN that are looking

for war criminals,

not the UN police task force.

No, not the ones

who could actually catch them.

Well, that's one way of looking at it.

Sounds like the usual UN jerk-off to me.

You got any milk?

Look, we're headed up to Celibici now.

We just figured we'd stop in

and register with you

just in case we got killed

or something like that.

Well, consider yourselves registered.

Miriam, uh, be a love and get me a tea.

Four sugars.

Oh, and a glass of milk.

Is there any word

on what's going up there now?

Well, something.

It's third time this year

we've been ordered to stay away.

From Celibici?

Suspicious, no?

Yeah.

Who ordered you?

UN command.

Told us to stay away

for four or five days.

Jesus f***ing Christ.

They tell the police

not to go up to Celebici.

I mean, he's actually up there.

I can't f***ing believe this.

Why would they tell them

not to go up there?

Tell them not to go up there

because I don't want them

walking into a shootout.

Now, really...

tell me the truth.

Who the f*** are you guys?

I told you, we are journalists.

Journalists?

Yeah. You have our press credentials.

Yes.

Very professionally done.

So, uh, you are journalists who believe

that they can get close to someone

that no one else can.

Yeah. What's the problem?

I understand.

I understand.

You are journalists on a story.

What, you think we're just posing

as journalists?

Do you like beer?

I like beer. Do you like beer?

Let's get a beer.

For a group of UN guards to go,

it's too dangerous.

For you guys? Sure, why not?

Go to Celibici.

Do the world a favor.

I'm sorry, are you still insinuating

we're a CIA hit squad or something?

I'm sorry, are you still insinuating

you're journalists?

Look, um...

I know things.

I know how things operate.

I've been waiting for you.

Certain things need to be taken

care of professionally, right?

- Took me months...

- Shh.

Took me months to gain the trust

of certain people

who normally would be protecting

the Fox.

That's how I know you didn't just stumble on

the fact he's up in Celibici.

Well, it's been printed in the press.

So has the horoscopes.

Do you believe them?

- You're not making any sense now.

- I know.

I'm the United Nations.

And fact is, the United Nations...

Oh, f***.

The French specifically,

they have no interest

in catching the Fox.

They would be happy

if he killed all the Muslims.

Save them all this money and energy.

John Major and the British

backed the Fox,

even though they would never

publicly admit it.

And the Americans...

Yeah, they brokered the peace agreement,

but some would suggest

they made a secret deal with the Fox

that if he stepped down from power,

they would not arrest him for war crimes.

Who knows what's true, what isn't?

The whole f***ing thing is dirty.

But in dirty times...

dirty deeds need to be done, right?

One arm of the government said

it would do something, does nothing.

That would be us.

The other hand...

CIA...

whoever...

does something else.

I mean, look at you guys.

Do you really think you're fooling anyone?

He thinks we're a hit squad.

- He thinks we're a f***ing hit squad!

- Yeah, this can't be good.

Isn't it illegal, impersonating a CIA officer?

Yeah, but we denied it.

Yeah, he didn't believe it.

It's true.

It's like the more we f***ing denied it,

the more he didn't believe it.

Yeah, the problem is,

if you were CIA you would deny it.

And if you weren't,

you would also deny it.

Actually he's not that far

off the mark, you know?

I mean, we're not CIA,

but we can do a lot more

than just interview the Fox.

Wait. Hold up.

- Simon.

- What?

Now, you're not still

on this capturing jag?

It's not a jag.

Not a jag, not a whim.

Especially now.

Especially since Boris basically confirmed

that he's hiding out up there.

Okay. Now, now, Simon,

I was willing to come along with you

and try to even get close enough

to this psychopathic f***

to try and get an interview.

But we are not capturing him.

I mean, look at us.

That's not what we do.

I'm checking into that hotel

down the road.

I'm taking a shower,

a sh*t, and a Seconal.

Tomorrow morning I'm getting up,

I'm driving up that mountain to Celibici,

and I am finding the Fox.

Now, you're welcome to join me, Duckie,

or you're welcome to f*** off.

Your choice.

You think this is crazy too, huh?

I mean, just trying

to get an interview is crazy.

But we're not mercenaries.

Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be

on f***ing vacation.

And it makes sense why he had

a meltdown on air.

He's a goddamn nut job.

Yeah, Simon is a goddamn nut job,

but his meltdown wasn't for nothing.

We'd seen some horrible stuff that day.

Yeah, reporters see horrible things

all the time.

That's what they do.

Yeah.

Look, I saw the tape, okay?

He was drunk, high.

He just f***ing lost it.

He lost it then,

and he's losing it now.

There was these two girls, right?

Named Marda and Una.

They said they were cousins but...

We used to hang out together

from time to time.

Who the hell knows why they were there.

It was war.

People was broke.

People did things.

All I know is...

we had a good time.

They were our friends.

Somewhere along the line,

maybe the second

or third year into the war,

Simon and Marda,

they had a little thing.

Hell, it was more than a little thing.

Simon, he liked her.

He did things for her.

Whatever little money he had, he gave her.

They didn't spend that much time together.

But it was war, how can you?

But Simon,

in his own little crazy way,

he loved her.

Now, you fast-forward six months.

Sarajevo's under siege worse than ever.

And we haven't heard from Marda

or her cousin for months now.

And only thing we knew

was that Marda had gone back to Polje

to help out her mother.

And then one day we hear

about a serious incident in Polje,

and we go there to cover it.

The horrors we saw.

F***ing inhuman.

Neither Simon nor I said anything,

you know, although we both knew

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