The Shield (2002–2008): Season 0, Episode 0 - Wins and Losses - full transcript

Vic, Vic, you can't touch anything.

We're gonna find out who did this...

...and we're gonna kill him.

Nothing like watching a machine
dig your best friend's grave.

That Cl tip about the loan shark
was bogus.

Guy was Chilean.
He never even heard of Guardo.

Stay on it. Keep ripping it up.

We'll find the right salvo.
Flush out Guardo.

We're chasing leads on both sides
of the border.

You just gotta be patient.

Patient?



It might take a minute
to find this guy.

I've spent too many minutes already.

This guy killed Lem.

Let's just send him off
the right way, okay?

Yeah.

Pocket two-to-one odds.

Plus, I got this sweet side-bet
on the match's run-time.

Whose idea was it to have
Mr. GED in charge of the money?

I did this thing on Samoans
a few years back.

I know a thing or two
about sports gambling.

Samoans, great. If I ever need someone
to cover the spread...

...on a coconut toss, you're my guy.

I can handle the green, brother.

- All right?
- Yeah.



Hey, what's up?

- Holy cow.
- Lou needs to understand this.

Know that this freak of nature
is a sure thing.

- Put me down for a hundred.
- Pony up, pony boy.

I know it was hard on you
to throw the match last year.

Smug Wilshire bastards.

Sure set us up to stack the odds
this time, though.

You know what?
Screw the money, man.

This year we bring the prize back
where it belongs.

- Our house, our team, our arm.
- Yes.

- Yeah.
- And a fist full of money.

You know what I'm saying?

Do it. Do it, baby.
Do your dance. Yeah!

- Money dance.
- Yeah.

- Yeah.
- That's our boy right there, man.

Do they think we're burying
some war criminal?

Half the TV stations in town.
Still no blue yet.

Guardo can't live
without his satellite TV.

Watches it from some restaurant
in the 'hood. Central-American feed.

- Chicas Gone Locas?
- Salvadorian soccer games.

My guy is gonna call with the address.

Maybe Guardo's out of minutes.

Oh, you gotta be kidding me.

- Hey!
- Start rolling. This is good.

A man died. His friends and family
are here to mourn.

That's all the story you need.

Were you friends with the disgraced
detective, Curtis Lemansky?

Get your camera crew
away from the grave.

Jesus Christ, show some respect.

Did you know about
his illegal activities?

Hey. Hey, that's what they want.

What do you know
about the investigation into Lemansky?

No more questions.

Have the vultures move their vehicles
out of the way.

The motorcade will never get through.

No motorcade, sorry.
My hands are tied.

Oh, my God. They didn't come through
with the police funeral.

This is a joke, right?

The brass is banning all personnel
from attending?

Just like Gilroy.

I've been ordered to hold over shifts
to prevent cops from coming.

Upside is chief's office
isn't giving a statement.

No one to photograph,
no formal position...

...means no headlines.

Maybe it's for the best?
Keeps it quiet.

Personal.

Deal again, buddy.
This is from a fresh deck.

Odds are three-to-one, Wilshire.

You feeling lucky?

- Here we go.
- Well, do you, punk?

- Dirty Walken.
- Yeah, that was a hard one.

- Right?
- Good morning.

Hey, captain.

- We're just neck deep in this big case.
- Yeah, I can see that.

Do you anything about a drug dealer
named Ollie Turner?

Small time, mostly. Weed, crack.

He's been stepping on some
One-Niner toes recently.

Just waiting for a beef
we can use. Why?

Turner's wanted for questioning
in a gang shooting...

...that went down this morning
in the Wilshire district.

This guy barely mastered the art
of weighing and measuring.

I doubt he's gonna raise his game
to gatting bangers.

He may not have pulled any triggers.

But if scooping him up leads
to some of his gang buddies-

Gets you a win.
Funnel some funding money your way.

Few "Attaboys" from the chief.

So you want us to pick Turner up...

...before Wilshire gets their
greedy little hands on him?

Looks like you wanna take their glory
from them today more than we do.

Oh, yeah, the unauthorized
departmental arm-wrestling match.

Dutch is taking Stephen Hawking
on the undercard.

Vegas has it as a "Pick him. "

Sure would love it if we could move
that unauthorized action...

...out of the locker room this year.

I'll tell you what. You pick up Turner
before Wilshire...

...and the whole Barn
is your coliseum for the night.

Move.

Go. Go!

- You all right?
- Yeah, man. I think I twisted it.

I told you. Let Shane do the dives.

His body ain't worth a dime to me.

- We lost one. Hey, man, you okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine.

- Yeah?
- Fine.

You think it's all right to rough up
my guy?

Didn't touch him, man.
Came at me flying.

You hurt his arm, you idiot.

That's 3000, plus- A two-dollar bill?

Moms gave it to me. Says it's lucky.

You are a lucky guy.

I swear to God, if I lose $1 because
of this insect tonight...

Jesus, it's okay man, all right?
Just relax.

Everybody relax.

My arm will be okay by tonight.
I just have to ice it down.

I'm sure you could use that tonight.

- That's for the pain.
- Yeah.

Buddy, buddy.

All right.

I can't tell you
how many late nights...

...I worried that this would be
me and Vic's funeral.

I know. It's always
in the back of my head.

How's Vic doing?

I'm not sure. Haven't talked lately.

He's supposed to see
the kids tomorrow.

Shane hasn't said much either.

Hey.

Thanks, man.

My favourite, buddy.

Shane? Shane!

Lem, I'm sorry!

But I had to, right?

But you know I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry, man.

Buddy.

Guardo's gonna pay. I promise.

- Quick, put the ice on it.
- Got it, man.

You look like an old Cub Scout troop
on the way to the pinewood derby.

These Cub Scouts just delivered your
bad guy on a silver platter, Griggs.

- What, no love from Wilshire?
- Oh, there's love.

Yeah, your delivery
was much appreciated.

In fact, Turner's very talkative.

- How's the arm?
- Hundred percent.

Look, man, can't we postpone
for a week?

- Come on, Vic.
- He hurt his wing on the job.

What cops can't respect that?

Especially when the collar
benefits both of us.

Oh, we respect him plenty.

But business is business. The cage
is clear. Half of Wilshire P.D. is inside.

The time is now or never.

I told you, I'm okay.

So let's do it, man.

Yeah!

Well, if you lose, at least no one
will hear about it.

That's it, man!

- Three thousand on Strike Team.
- All bets are now closed.

Oh, hey, give me that $2 bill.
Good luck.

Hey, Griggs, let's fire it up.
Wait, where's Bermudez?

He's not here. He's been replaced.

Replaced?

This is Atticus.

I must have missed you
at the PBA pick.

Hell, Atticus here just joined Wilshire
as a Tech 4.

Which means what,
he turns the lights on?

Well, he can't find the switch
most days, but he sure is big.

Check the rule book. It's all kosher.

He's a freaking ringer.

You say ringer, I say winner.

Take him out.

- He's all meat and no heart.
- Go for it.

Let's go.

Come on, come on, come on.

Nobody moves until I say go.

Ready? Settle in.

No one moves
after I set you, all right? Let's go.

Put your elbow up here.
Get your elbow up. All right.

Waited all year for this. Here we go.

Ready, go!

That's it.

That's it.

Lem!

- Oh, yeah.
- Beautiful.

Oh, man, Lem.

Nice match. I thought he was hurt.

Never bet the farm...

...on a tip from a dirt bag dealer
just out of my cage. Right?

Buddy, you had me browning my jeans
for two seconds.

Oh, my God, tell me about it.

Are you okay, buddy?

Think you can count that cash
while Ronnie drives me to the ER?

Wait a minute.
You really hurt yourself this morning?

Scamming the scammer.
You'd never let me in there if you knew.

Think I ripped something, though.
Aches like a bitch, man.

You idiot, man. You really could have
done some damage to that arm.

It's okay, man.
We got the win that counts.

Do one for the team.

Come on, I couldn't
let you guys down.

There it is. Go get it. Go get it.

Lemonhead. Lemonhead.
Lemonhead.

Yeah, I know the place. Thanks.

Got a location on Guardo's hangout.

Restaurant on Goldman.

Come on.

- Where are we meeting?
- We're going now.

Come on, I gotta change.

I'm not wasting another minute
finding out who did this to Lem.

Around the back.

Hey!

Hands on your head!
Hands on your head!

Where's Guardo?

Guardo, where is he?

You-

Vic. Vic, Vic, someone's coming.

Jesus!

The hell are you guys doing here?

Got a lead on Guardo.
This is where it led.

So, what,
you just busted the door in?

- How were you getting in?
- I've got a warrant.

Good. That will cover both of us.

Get up.

What happened to him?

He came at me. He was unarmed.

- Took him down old-school.
- Old as in mediaeval?

- Call EMS.
- No.

We're letting him go.

Tell Guardo there's nowhere else
he can hide.