The Hunting Party Page #6

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No, I'm an a**hole.

No, all this time, you've been

making fun of my life in New York.

Joking about how

I'm not the man that I used to be?

Let me share something with you, Simon.

You're not the man you used to be, either.

You are far f***ing from it.

Dry your dick off

and get the f*** outta my room.

Lady, do you...

Look, I'm just trying to change my...

Hello? Hello?

Yes, I made it up.

- Sh*t, Simon.

- We weren't wrong, you know?

Boris, the UN guy, he thought

we were right on his trail.

- Yeah, well, he still does.

- What do you mean?

I just saw him in the lobby,

and he wants to meet

his favorite CIA hit squad

at that burnt-out tunnel in Visegrad tonight.

- He said, "Things are heating up."

- He did?

Yes. The whole damn thing

is f***ing ridiculous.

Why the hell didn't you tell me?

We got to get going!

So at what point do we get

jumped and killed?

I'm not doing what I'm doing.

I mean, clearly I'm doing this,

but I'm not doing this,

because if I was doing this, I could

get into a lot of trouble for doing it.

What the f***, Boris?

Yeah.

She might seem

young and beautiful to you,

but she would cut your balls off

and sell them as trinkets

if she thinks you're f***ing

with her. Okay?

Boris?

Who are you talking about?

The person I spoke to about your mission.

Mirjana.

She is going to lead you to the Fox.

Come.

Sit down.

Sit.

I'm no friend of the Muslims.

Right at the start of the war,

they got some girls from my school.

Look, it was shitty on all sides, okay?

You don't know shitty until you've been

gang-raped for seven hours.

- Where's Boris?

- This is not about justice.

I am and always will be a proud Serb.

This is about money.

My father had a system.

Made us money.

Then Boghanovic's men took over.

Wanted what we had.

Now they run the petrol and cigarettes

coming in from Serbia.

Use that money to protect him.

But they killed my father.

And now we have nothing.

I hate nothing.

You stop them,

I get my family business back.

What do we get?

What you came to Bosnia to get.

And how do we do that?

My old boyfriend, he is one of his guards.

Midac.

He is in love with me, calls me every day.

I have no interest in him anymore,

but I still talk to him

because I know one day

the CIA will come to my home.

- How many guards?

- Ten.

- We're just three.

- Three of you is thirty of them.

They are fat and lazy and bored

out of their minds in the countryside.

And you know exactly where he is?

I can.

Now you give me thousand marks.

A thou... Are you out or your f***ing mind?

No. I want goodwill gesture.

My goodwill has disappeared, lady.

I risk everything talking to you.

We just can't.

I need assurance

you don't take advantage of me.

If you guys are not serious, forget it.

The Agency has strict rules.

We're not authorized for payments.

Others in the company are, but not us.

Weaker divisions are.

Smaller divisions.

You know what we do.

You know who we are.

You know our reputations and our accuracy

in achieving our goals around the world.

A single bullet from us can end wars...

or start them.

Now, you're worried about others killing you,

but what you should most be worried about

are the three people in this room

and the reputations

that they bring with them.

We will do what we need to do

to achieve our goals.

Right now, you're standing in the way

of us achieving those goals.

You can help us, and you'll no longer

be hindering our operation.

You can ignore us,

and I cannot guarantee your safety.

The Agency is, I'm afraid to say,

completely humorless about these issues.

Okay.

Tomorrow, when he call, I will find out

what we all need to know.

Good.

Un-f***ing-believable, Benji!

I didn't think you had it in you!

That's the ballsiest f***ing thing

I've ever seen in my life.

You're a madman.

I think she's just full of sh*t

and trying to play us,

but it's better to find out for sure.

I don't know what we got

into here, gentlemen,

but I f***ing love it.

You know, when you think about it,

the whole thing is f***ing ridiculous.

Why?

I could very well be CIA.

You can't even spell CIA.

Every f***ing CIA guy I know

looks exactly like me.

Yeah, only better-looking.

They certainly do not look like me.

And that is the genius of it.

The CIA would have someone

who doesn't look CIA.

That's...

That's exactly what they would do.

- What?

- I think we're being followed.

- What?

- What do you mean?

What part of "I think we're being followed"

do you not understand?

Jesus Christ.

He's right with me every turn.

Who could it be?

- Jesus f***ing hell!

- We can't stop.

We got to get back to Sarajevo.

Yeah, no sh*t.

We got one problem.

That right turn I made back there?

We're not heading toward Sarajevo.

- We're heading toward Pale.

- Oh, God damn it!

Why? What's Pale?

Just the worst place we possibly could go.

It's where the Fox lived during the war.

- It's just Serb country.

- F***ing peachy.

- F***ing hell!

- Jesus!

What's your f***ing problem!

- Sh*t!

- Okay, okay.

F***ing sh*t!

Speed up! Speed up! Speed up!

Hold tight! Hold on!

How come every time I'm with you, Simon,

I put my life in danger?

Because, my old friend,

putting your life in danger

is actual living.

The rest is television.

You need me to remind you of that.

We got to be extra careful.

Don't talk to anyone in the hotel.

- Don't talk on a cell phone.

- That won't be a problem.

Trust me, guys, trust me.

We have stepped into something here.

People are worried.

People are watching.

Who the f*** is this guy?

Who the f*** is that guy listening to us?

Nobody's listening to us!

What, we got to be afraid

of the hotel help now?

Trust nobody.

The only person I don't trust is you.

Are you sleeping in my room?

- Yes.

- Well, you kids have fun.

Look, Simon.

I mean, I would be lying if I wasn't secretly

hoping all this stuff is true.

But we're no closer to finding

the Fox than anybody else.

I mean, Boris is a nut.

Mirjana's a con artist.

And that guy following us on the road

is just some drunk

or your little midget friend

wanting to wrestle.

You were saying?

We got to get outta here.

- F***ing don't move.

- Okay, okay, okay!

You wanted to find Fox?

Well, now Fox want to find you.

I'm sorry. I don't know

what you're saying, okay?

I'm sorry, I don't understand!

I don't speak your language!

I don't know what you're saying!

I don't know what you're saying!

Duck! Duck!

I don't know what he's saying!

I don't know what he's saying!

No. No, no, no, no, no.

We are not CIA.

I'm sorry. I don't understand

what you're saying.

We are not CIA!

We are journalists!

No, we are journalists!

Duck! Duck, what is he saying?

I don't understand what you're saying!

We are not CIA!

Don't! Stop it! Stop it!

I don't know what you're saying!

Stop it! Stop it!

The truth emerges.

There's been a giant mix-up here.

What mix-up?

We know everything.

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