The Rhythm Section (2020) - full transcript

A woman seeks revenge against those who orchestrated a plane crash that killed her family.

Think of your
heart as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Front bedroom.


I'm Keith.

Half an hour, 100.
An hour, 150.

I just want to talk.

Let's get the money
out of the way.


What's your name?


Is that your real name?

My name's Lisa.

Unless you want it to be
something else.

- How about Stephanie?
- Sure.

Stephanie Patrick?

Your parents, they were on the
Northeastern Airlines flight

that crashed,
into the Atlantic three years ago

with your sister
and your brother.

I'm a journalist.

I'm writing an article.

Look, it wasn't an accident.
There was a bomb onboard.

Have you got
a cigarette?


The bombmaker is here.
He's in London.

He's free. He's walking
the fucking streets.

I'll be back in a minute.

Up. Come on.

Get off me.
Get off me!

I just want to talk,

- Go on. Get out, guv.
- All right, I'm going!

You have
one saved message.

Hello, sweetheart.

Uh, Dad left his wedding ring
on the counter.

Can you grab it?

See you at the airport.

We love you.

What are you doing?

- Can you prove it?
- Just get in.

So where are we going?

You can't have sex with me.

That's a relief.

Fuck you.

Can you move?

You want a drink?

I'm gonna get a beer.

Is that the man
who killed my family?

That's Mohammed Reza.

He made the device.

- So he's a bombmaker.
- And the security services,

they've got him
under surveillance,

- but they won't bring him in.
- They know who made the bomb

and they won't
fucking bring him in?


- Well, why not?
- I'm not sure yet.

Maybe they're worried
that if they do,

they might
lose his network.

Maybe they're also more scared
of who he might lead them to,

maybe one of our friends
in the Middle East.

Ramifications of that
could be huge.

Can you imagine
if this stuff gets out?

That they've let a known bomber
walk the streets of London?

That all of this,
all this...

The plane crash
was a cover-up?

The fallout would be

How do you know all this?

And my source.

- And I'd prefer it...
- And you know your source...

- ...if you don't smoke, please.
- telling the truth?

- How do you know?
- I'd prefer if you didn't smoke.

How do you know your source
is telling the truth?

He hasn't
steered me wrong yet.

So this source,
what does he need you for?

He can't do it himself.

He's part of
the intelligence community.

Ex-MI6, but he's still
an insider.

And he needs you
to help him.

Is that right?

I can help you.

You should have
left me alone.

But I didn't, did I?

'Cause I make
such a good headline.

Some tragic,
middle-class student.

I'm not that
kind of journalist.

And I'm not here
to sell papers.

You could have had
any life you wanted.

This is the life I want.

Instead of being the top
student at Oxford that you were?

I don't believe you.

Why did you come for me?

You're another victim.

You're just not dead yet.

Who was Martin Douglas?

The man in the seat
meant for me.

He was an architect.

From Uniondale, New York.

- Was he married?
- Yeah. Yeah, he was.

Did he have children?



- Who else knows about all this?
- No one.

Well, what about
your source?


Is that your source?

What's B stand for?

- Is B in Scotland?
- Leave it.

What's his name?

What's B stand for?

It doesn't matter.
You'll never find him.

I've got to go out.
I've got a meeting. So...

That's if you need anything,
and there's some keys.

I could disappear
and take your keys.

And I could
change the locks.

- That a new coat?
- No.

What do you think,
I'm a fucking Travelex, Lis?

What do you need,
one or two?

And a gun.

You? A shooter?

Do me a fucking favor, Lis.

I'll just find someone else.

Can I help you?

The bag.

Where's my bag?


Hey. I need to go that way.

we're going into the town.

You'll just have to
make your own way.

Get the fuck off me!

Get the...

Let go of me!


Take off your coat.

Take off your coat!

Empty the pockets.

- How long since your last hit?
- I'm not an addict.

- You're not an addict?
- I'm a user.

- This for me?
- No.

Huh? Is this for me?

You'd have to get
very close.

Close enough
to hit me with it.

It's not loaded.


That's your name, isn't it?

- Hmm.
- That's right.

Your parents would be proud.

Who else knows you're here?

- My parents are dead.
- I know.

Who else knows you're here?

- No one.
- I can't hear you.

No one.

No one knows. No one knows.
No one knows I'm here.

No one knows.

Why did you come here, then?

- I'm gonna kill Reza.
- Oh, God.

He must be terrified.

Help me find him.

You want to kill Mohammed Reza,
you need to hire a professional.

I don't have any money.

Well, you have a job.

You're a prostitute,
aren't you?


You're B.
You're Proctor's source.


I could go to a newspaper

and they would...

They would want to hear about
you and Proctor, I'm sure.

They'd want to hear
about you for...

Was that the same Proctor
you managed to get killed?

You might as well
have shot him yourself.

Look at me.

Look at me!

You don't have a clue

about the scale of the mess
you've caused.


Where is Reza?
Help me find him.

Why would I do that?

You spooked Reza
with your cafeteria stunt.

Thanks to you,
he's vanished.

- I need to kill him.
- You can't even walk.

Then help me walk.


Fuck you.

One second. One second.

Just one second, please.

I'm gonna say this now,
so you never turn around to me

and say I didn't warn you.

You're not made for this.

Can we talk about Reza?

You're wasting your time.


I can get you fit.
I can teach you survival.

But in the end,
you'll still be you.

It'll take longer
than you want.

It'll hurt
more than you think.

Can we talk about Reza?

Almost certainly,
you won't succeed.

But if by some miracle
you do succeed,

this is what you'll discover:

It's not worth it.

Come on.

Just stop it.

- Give me a minute!
- Oy.

Don't treat me like
I'm fucking worthless.

All right,
take off your clothes.

- Fuck off.
- Take off your clothes.

You won't run?
You can swim. Swim home.

I can't... I can't swim.
It's fucking freezing.

I mean it, I can't swim.
I'll fucking drown.

Is there anything
you can do?

You don't even know
what I've been through.

Drugs. Prostitution.
That's not a tragedy.

It's a cliche.

You're a cliche.
You don't have what it takes.

So drown.

Or quit.

I don't care.

I've got nothing to lose,
so fucking try me.

- What about your life?
- What about it?

My family weren't
supposed to be on that flight.

They changed their plans
so I could join them.

But I didn't.

Not because I couldn't.
Because I...

Because I didn't want to.

So they flew without me.

All right.

Reza is an errand boy.

The man who greenlit
the attack on that plane

was a radical Islamist cleric

a hardline government.

And he paid U17
to get the job done.

- What's U17?
- "Who," not "what."

U17 is code
for an unidentified person.

CIA classification
for a terrorist suspect

with no confirmed root name.

U17 could be anybody.

And what about the cleric?
Where's he?

Cleric was killed in a drone
strike two years ago.

Reza is our direct link
to U17.

You want Reza,
you're gonna want U17, too.

I want 'em all.

So this is Abdul Kaif.

He was an activist.
A visionary.

I read about him
at Proctor's.

Considered a massive threat
because he was a reformer,

from a region
terrified of reform.

They killed 239 people
just to get to a man

they could have shot
coming out of Harrods?

It was a message specifically
addressed to reformers:

We can get you anywhere

and there is nothing
we are not prepared to do.

Abdul died
fighting intolerance

and extremism.

Everyone else was
collateral damage.

Abdul's father, Suleman Kaif,
suspected as much.

He wasn't afraid to find out
who was behind this.

He financed Proctor.


You got to get
your breathing sorted.

Don't panic.
Be calm. Be still.

You got to get your
rhythm section under control,

like in music, remember?

Think of your heart
as the drums.

- Yeah.
- Your breathing as the bass.

You get those sorted
and you're sorted.

Your heart as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Put another one in.
Never less than two.


- That's the easy part.
- What's the hard part?

Living with it.

You're gonna
have to be someone else.


- Petra Reuter.
- Who's that?

- She was an assassin.
- Was?

- She's dead.
- Well, how's that gonna work?

Her body was never recovered,
so it's gonna work great.


What the...

Fuck off.

You've fucked the car
and now you're dead.

You're fucking crazy.

Nice job.

Enjoy the walk home!

Enjoy the walk home!

Is this your wife?


- She's beautiful.
- Yeah, she was.

When are you gonna
teach me to fight?

We should probably
go over that, no?

Find something sharp.
Go for ears, eyes.

If they've got balls,
go for those.

That's it?

We need to concentrate on
the abilities that you have.

Like languages.

This because
I'm a woman?

There are plenty of women
out there just as good as men.

So, make me one of them.

- It would take too long.
- How long?

How long?

It's been months.

I said, how long?

Your menopause would be
a distant memory.


Stop it.


Go ahead.

Calm yourself.

Calm yourself.

Stop moving.

That's a good start.

Want some tea?


Are you MI6?

Proctor said you were.

Not at the moment.

What does that mean?

That means I messed up.


I killed Petra Reuter.



I didn't kill her
by accident.

That's Petra.

How old would she be now?

Older than you,
but manageable.

Those three men
she's with there...

She killed all of them.

This is the nine-millimeter

When that impacts soft tissue,

it flowers up to about
three times the size.

Creates a larger
wound channel,

severing arteries,
cutting nerves.

Massive blood loss,
hypovolemic shock.

You hit someone
in the sternum with that,

the bone shatters,
bullet enters the heart...

The heart blows out.

- Shoot me.
- What?

- Right here.
- Are you out of your mind?

Shut up. Just do it.

Think of your heart
as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Massive blood loss...
Clean through the body...

Hypovolemic shock...
When that impacts soft tissue,

it flowers up to about
three times the size.

You hit someone
in the sternum with that...

...the bone shatters,
bullet enters the heart...

...the heart blows out.

I'm putting you
out in the field.

I received
counterintelligence information

that Reza's making
a new device for U17.

Word is
it'll be a major event.

So you're going to Madrid.

It's where Marc Serra lives.

That's Serra.
He's an information broker.

Used to work for the CIA,

now he trades
on the open market.

We use Serra to get to U17.

You're gonna have
to get close to Serra

to convince him
you're Petra.

- Who's gonna pay for all this?
- Fucked if I know.

You serious?

What about Abdul's father?

Suleman Kaif.
He financed Proctor.

- Good idea.
- Yeah, it is.

Go get us some money.

How did you get in here?

Far too easily.

What do you want?

- What do you want?
- Your son was on flight 147.

Get out of my house.

You tried to prove
that the crash was terrorism,

not mechanical failure,

but no one believed you
except Proctor.

- You know Proctor?
- Yes.

If you want to talk to me,
get that gun out of my face.

Proctor promised to find out
the truth for me.

Instead, he stole my money
and disappeared.

- He's a fraud.
- No.

- He's a thief.
- No.

He's dead.

He was murdered.

So why are you here?

To offer you closure.

And how would you do that?


And, uh, what do you
want me to do exactly?

Just expenses, that's all.

Just expenses.

- That's all.
- That's all.

How did I guess?

Please, leave my house.


On the inside.

My family's seat numbers.

People have gone to far greater
lengths than this to cheat me.

- I'm not cheating you.
- I don't know who you are,

but I'll find out.

Now, please leave my house.

How do you know
Proctor was murdered?

- Ah, she is leaving.
- Because I found him.

It was my fault.

He was the first person
in three years

to treat me
like a human being.

- Come on, get out.
- He wasn't a fraud.

You've made a mistake.

Alia, leave it.
This doesn't concern you.

My son is dead.
And it doesn't concern me?

You know
as well as I do

that it is far more
complicated than that.

She has no idea
what's she's talking about.

- But I do.
- Alia, be quiet.

I will not be silenced.

You stay silent
if you want to.

You were right about the
flight and you know it.

Proctor showed me everything.

Whoever did it,
I'll find them

and I'll kill
every last one of them.

I can do it. I will.

But there will be
no public vindication for you.

Killing the guilty
will not heal us.

I'm not looking
to get healed.

I will help you.
I will give you the money.


Your ring.

No, no. Keep it.

Keep it for me.

Got your
first contract for you.

Name of Lehmans.
He's a piece of shit, this guy.

Deals in arms, guns,
drugs, blood diamonds.

If anyone can find him,
it's Serra.

Why do I
have to kill him?

Lehmans is the one
who led me to Petra.

And she wasn't
the forgiving type.

There's something else
you should know.

He arranged for the bomb
to be on that plane.

- Yeah.
- Hello, Marc?

Who is this?

I need you to find
Eric Lehmans for me.

Eric Lehmans, huh?

Never heard of him.

What about Petra Reuter?
You heard of her?

Uh, now I'm definitely
not interested.

But I'll tell you something.

You can have
this one for free.

Petra Reuter is dead.

I get that a lot.

Whoever you are,
you're not her.

Can you find him or not?

Let me...

Let me think about it.

Sure. Why don't you call me
when you finish your espresso.

Why are you
looking for Lehmans?


Why are you
looking for Lehmans?

Never mind.

If you don't know why,
I'm wasting my time.

Hold on a sec.

- How much?
- How much what?

- How much will it cost?
- I'll let you know.

- Call me on this number.
- No.

We'll meet tomorrow.
Face to face.

- Okay, where?
- I'll text you.

Always figured you
for a blonde.

Did you find him or not?

The fee is 200,000 euros.

It includes a risk premium.

You must have
a low opinion of me.

I don't have
any opinion of you yet.

Payable by wire, no cash.

That works for me.

Lehmans has an air-transport
company based in Belgrade,

but he keeps his distance.

He's changed his name
and lives alone

in Tangier, in his apartment
and rarely goes out.

Have fun.

Who sent you?

Your outline's unclear to me.


But you smell like a woman.

It's Petra Reuter.

If it was,
I'd be dead already.

You are.

Petra had a reason to kill me.
What's yours?


Three years ago.


Flight 147.

No, get off me!



Hey, you!


Back up!

Get the fuck back.


Get on your knees.
Get on your knees!

A genoux! A genoux!






Move! Fucking get out!

No. Fuck!

Shit. Shit. Shit!


You really left your mark
on Tangier.

You never told me
about his protection.

Lehmans made too many
enemies not to have 'em.

I'm surprised you didn't
know that... Petra.

- I got a proposition for you.
- What?

An American financier
named Leon Giler.

He's being investigated
by the authorities in the US.

My client's concerned he may
be tempted to cut a deal,

save his own skin.

Why is he being investigated?

He got greedy with
other people's money.

And it's time-sensitive,
I'm afraid.

If you need more time
to think about it,

we can meet up again later.

If you're around.

Strictly business,
of course.

What else would it be?

What's up?

It's Serra,
he wants me to take a contract.

Some businessman in New York
named Leon Giler?

Take the contract.

Giler is suspected of having
financial dealings with U17.

It's believed he funded the cell
that brought down the plane.

One more thing. Serra.

When it comes to the money,
make it hurt.

Petra always did.

I'll do it
for two million cash.

- You're shitting me.
- No.

I imagine
for whatever problem

your client has with Giler,
that's gonna feel cheap.

And then I still owe you 200,000
for finding me Lehmans, so...

It's really only
1.8 plus expenses.

That's not reasonable at all.

Well, this isn't a
reasonable business, is it?

So where exactly have you been
for the past few years?

You're the information
broker, Marc.

- What?
- I don't know.

You're much more human than
I thought you'd be, Petra.

Then it's a good disguise.

Yes, it is.

So, what's your story?
You're from Munich, right?

I think you know
I'm from Berlin.

Ah, Berlin,
that's right. My bad.

It's just you don't speak with
a trace of a German accent.

- How long have you lived here?
- About six years now.

Since you left the CIA?

You know,
there's a lot of people

that think that you're dead,

who would love to know
that you're not.

Why not just disappear?

We are what we are.


Giler. One million dollars.

The price is two million.

Why did you kill Petra?

She murdered
an MI6 colleague of mine.

I found myself in a position
to return the favor.

So what was the problem?

I was ordered
to stand down.

I did it anyway.

MI6 ordered you
to stand down?



CIA hired Petra
to track and kill U17.

Anyway, I shot her.

CIA got very upset,
MI6 had to do something.

Petra was meant to kill U17

before my family's
plane went down.

So that's why I'm here.

To finish the mission
you fucked up.

Was your wife
the MI6 colleague?

Any regrets then?

You told me revenge
is never worth it.

So I'm asking you,
any regrets?

Giler's security is tight.

No gun will get through,

- not the way you're going in.
- Which is how?

He owns a penthouse
on Central Park West.

Not his family home.

- A mistress?
- Call girls.

Gas him first.
Square in the face, okay?

- Are you listening?
- Mmm.

When he goes down,

cut his throat.

You go in deep, you go in hard.
Ear to ear.

Gas him first,

or you won't manage.
And wait until you're undressed.

- You got a better idea?
- I don't have a worse one.

You have to walk out,
not run out,

and you can't do that
covered in blood.

- You okay?
- Why wouldn't I be?

I never thought
you'd get this far.


One moment. Guys?

I'll take that.

Hands out.


Salbutamol. I'm asthmatic.

All that heavy breathing, huh?


He's just such
a petty motherfucker.

No, no, no.

No, Terry. No, no.

You tell him
I don't give a flying fuck.

I'll just pull
the fucking plug.

I'll pull the plug right now.

- No, no, you tell him what I said the first time.
- Hold on. Hold on.

- Who the hell are you?
- Lisa.

- Who?
- Lisa.

- Where the fuck is Madeleine?
- She's off sick.

She's off sick?

- Nobody told me that.
- I'm sorry, is there a problem?

Yeah, a big fucking problem.

Not less than
forty fucking inches.

They should know that by now.

What are you, 36, max?

I can't work
with this shit, come on!

- It's never been done.
- Oh, it's been done plenty.

You do all the shit
Maddie does?

- With her tits and all?
- Oh, I can do a lot more.

- Yeah?
- I think you'll be surprised

by what I do for you.

Oh, wow.

All right, I guess
it's my lucky day.

Where's the bathroom?

- You got to use the bathroom?
- Yes.

Come on.

It's right behind you,
it's on the left.

Make it quick.
I got to call Tokyo in an hour.

The fuck you doing
in there? Let's go!

What are you doing
in there, Cinderella?

Put your head down on my cock.

Head down.

Close your eyes.

Please don't.
Please don't.

Don't kill me. Don't kill me.

Don't kill me, please.
I have children.

A little girl.
She's only nine years old.

I couldn't.

I just couldn't.

NYPD sources
have now confirmed

the identities
of the four fatalities

in the car explosion
earlier this afternoon.

Leon Giler,
his chauffeur Adam Ross,

and Giler's two children:

Michael, aged eleven,
and Melissa, aged nine.

That wasn't Plan A.
You were.

I saw the target
get into the vehicle.

I didn't know
the children were in there.

I have to live with that
for the rest of my life.

Where are you going?

Away from you.


Stephanie, are you there?

Look, that bomb
that Reza's making for U17,

there's still no intelligence
on the target or the place...

I've got
my own plan, Boyd.

I'm gonna do this my way.

What happened?

I don't know if I can be
who I was before.

You need some sleep.

Why did you leave
the CIA, Marc?


The things they asked me to do

went way beyond
the call of duty.

You do that once,

you know it's wrong,
but you get over it.

And so you do it again.

And again. And again.

Until eventually,
you feel nothing at all.

So that's why
you're doing this now?

I was out on my own
and I had only one skillset

that had any value,
so I exploited it.

Then it was because
I needed to. Now it's...

It's just the thing I do.

Are you happy?

Are you?

If you would've told me
when I was fifteen

this is where I'd be now...

I can't even imagine
how I would've reacted,

apart from being angry.

- Angry teenager, huh?
- Mmm.

With the whole world.
All the time.

I'm sure.

- Hey.
- What is it?

U17 is the one who hired Serra
to take care of Giler.

- Stephanie?
- How did you find out?

Yeah, don't worry
about that right now.

- Just listen.
- Hey...

Who told you this?

What you need to know
is U17 is now eliminating

all connections to him.

So Serra is clearly next.

And so are you.

I have
another contract.

- Who?
- U17.

- Who is the client?
- You are.

I just found out U17 used you
to take out Giler.

That means you're next.

So what do you know?

Talk to you later.

U17's gonna be
in Marseille.


At a peace march.
He's making a device.

- Who is?
- U17.

He's not even a believer.

He's got no faith at all.

Everything he does,
he does for profit.

Not for the Prophet.

You know his name?

Mohammed Reza.

- He's a bombmaker.
- I know who Reza is.

I used to think
that's all he was.

We didn't realize
that he could've been both.

You sure it's him?

Are you sure
you want to do this?

I'm sure.

- Because if something goes...
- I'm sure.

Why don't
use the phone?

You just don't
need the phone.

You just don't need it.

I'm with you.

Samira, we're in this together.

But he said to use the phone. That was the plan.




Open the doors.

I can't let you off here, sir.


The demonstration is right outside.

Where's the detonator?


I'm gonna shoot you
through the fucking spine.

Where's the detonator?

If you shoot me,
everyone dies.

Open the doors... Now!

Everyone get out!!

Everyone get out!!

It's not working.

There's a bomb!

The detonator's not working!

Who are you?

You killed my family.

Serra sent you.
He'll kill you, too.

I know.

It's a timer. It's a timer!! It's a timer!!

You coward!



Well, just let me know
when you know for sure...

Yeah. Call you back.

- Hey.
- I have something to tell you.

I lost my family
three years ago.

They were killed...

...on the flight that exploded
over the Atlantic.

Flight 147.

What was that?

You know what it was.

I've been dying
for three years.

For you,
it'll be a few minutes.

What's it feel like?


How does it feel?

You shouldn't have
told me Reza was U17.

He's a fucking nobody.

Sending me to kill
U17's connections.

That's when I knew
it was you. So...

Probably shouldn't
have done that.

You thought I wouldn't
want to believe it, hmm?

We were both pretending
to be someone else.

I just fucking did it better.

There's no one left.


Are you Stephanie?

Whoever you are...

...thank you.

Don't mention it.


Back in MI6?

I could be.

One sharp twist.

Petra needs to disappear.

My name's Stephanie.

I hope I never
see you again.

Do you?