True Detective (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Who Goes There - full transcript
Martin is faced with marital problems. The search for Reggie Ledoux leads the detectives to a motorcycle gang called the Iron Crusaders, which Rust worked undercover in the past.
¶
What you doing?
You fucked with us, Charlie.
I did not, sir.
Reggie Ledoux.
Hey, I don't even want
to know that freak, man.
Y'all ain't asked
nothin' about Reggie.
Fuck, man, my...
My wife just died...
Ex-wife!
You had Reggie Ledoux
take her out,
didn't you?
No.
Hmm?
What are you
talking about, man?
Hmm?
Reggie? Put her out there
with them antlers on? I...
You have Reggie do it?
What are you
talking about?
Hmm?
Reggie Ledoux did this?
Reggie Ledoux?
Reggie motherfuckin'
Ledoux did this?!
Fuck, man! Shit!
Let me out, man!
Let me out!
Fuck, man!
Hey, Charlie?
We're not gonna give you
the Oscar no matter
how hard you try.
Oh, fuck you, man.
You don't know me.
You don't know
what I been through.
And what are you talking
about? You talk to me!
Ledoux knew about her, right?
You talk about her to him?
Yeah, man... yeah,
the way you do
sharing a house.
Yeah, you talk pussy,
talk scores.
That's what you do.
Showed him pictures of her, hmm?
Yeah, I guess so, yeah.
I had some she give me
when I first went down,
stuff for me to look at.
You know, like Polaroids.
He was a big guy...
A lot bigger than you.
Do you tell me you
didn't get along?
Nah, I mean, I did, most part.
You've got to,
you're sharing a house,
like I'm saying.
I mean, he gets you high,
man, but he's creep.
I ain't want to know him.
Tell me about Ledoux.
How is he creep?
He's a cook, you know,
like a chemist?
He used to, uh, make shit
out of kitchen stuff...
Cook down cleansers and whatnot.
Used tater skins
and fry grease to make
high-test sour mash.
He got mad knowledge
for that shit, but,
like, I don't know, man,
he talk like a short-eyes,
like something.
How you mean?
He wouldn't talk
that shit up in here.
No, man, he didn't.
Like, me and him
at night,
blasted up on one of his mixes.
I mean, he could
brew some shit up
put you up out your head, man.
That's a big deal in here.
I mean, fuck, man,
it's a big deal
out there, too.
So, uh, what kind
of shit was he talking?
He said that there's
this place down south
where all these rich men
go to, uh, devil-worship.
He said that, uh...
they... they sacrifice
kids and whatnot.
Women and children all got...
All got murdered there, and, um,
something about someplace
called Carcosa
and the Yellow King.
He said there's all
these, like, old stones
out in the woods,
people go to, like, worship.
He said, uh...
He said there's just
so much good killin'
down there.
Reggie got this
brand on his back,
like in a spiral?
He says that's their sign.
What the fuck ever,
you understand?
I don't listen
to the man, but he's big,
so I don't tell him
to shut the fuck up,
neither!
You remember
any buddies he ever
talked about?
So we checked the records here,
and he hadn't ever
had any visitors.
We both know Tyro Weems.
Tyrone like to tell you
where he's at.
Look, man, Reggie's
crazy, like, for real.
Had to be tough,
living with
somebody spouting
insane shit
in your ear all day long.
You gonna give me
something for what
I told you just now?
Parole board nod.
Fair's fair.
Hey. Hey!
You think 'cause I talked
to him about Dori that...
I might have got her killed?
You probably had
something to do with it.
I don't think you
should have shown him
those pictures.
Do you?
We need to find
this Tyrone Weems,
see what he knows about Ledoux.
Yeah.
Ahem.
You didn't have to
tell him it was
his fault.
Guy was already low.
Yeah, he asked
about his end first.
Parole board.
So?
So fuck him.
¶
You're funny, Marty...
The shit you get soft about.
HART, VOICE-OVER: I wanted
every member of that family
that I could find.
Turns out...
there weren't any.
You know how weird
that is in Louisiana?
A cousin, what was it,
Dewall, was
not on paper except
for a, uh, trucker's license.
Ledoux had turned into a ghost
from the time he skipped
parole check.
Tell me, young studs,
what would you do
when you hit a wall like that?
Responding to the complaint,
I approached the house.
Seeing that the screen door
was broken and the inner door...
ajar, I... I felt that entrance
complied with standard
procedure.
Upon entering
the domicile, I noticed
what appeared to be marijuana
and a white powder
on the coffee table.
Hey, Martin.
We don't have to talk, Lisa.
The hell we don't.
You don't get to do
what you did to me
last week.
Look, I'm sorry.
I was hurt
and real drunk.
Talk to me now.
OK. Ah, I wish you
a great life
and good luck with
your new friend.
You philandering
fucking asshole.
Hey, look.
There is no pageant
to perform, OK, and
your disappointment
is irrelevant.
You don't get to act
like that, Marty,
or like this.
The fact is it's nice
to know you got him,
and I don't want to
have this conversation
with you.
You need to respect me, Marty.
This is respect.
Rust figured a connection with
an earlier death, suspicious...
Rianne Olivier.
Led us to the DB's old
boyfriend, Reginald Ledoux, 35.
Statch rape charge
against a 12-year-old,
acquitted for lack of testimony.
Did a bit for manufacturing
meth and LSD,
which fits the tox screen
for Lange.
His old cellmate
was Lange's ex-husband.
He showed him some
cheesecake pictures
of her.
Uh, from what we know about him,
the way he talked,
he sounds like he's
real good for it.
No line on any of his people.
Swamp folk, dug in off the grid.
We are tracking
a KA, Tyrone Weems.
He's in the sheets
that we passed out.
Any questions?
I didn't think so.
Let's get to work.
¶
Are you Theresa Weems,
Tyrone Weems' mom?
Tyrone ain't been around
in a while.
You know, a few months.
We got in a fight 'cause
he sold my microwave.
And what about his friends?
You know where they hang out?
I don't know, he dated
this girl Kelsey
for a little while.
Kelsey,
when's the last time
you saw Tyrone?
Months.
We've been broke up.
I don't ever hear from him.
I don't want to.
I heard he got
Shawnda Miller pregnant.
So do you have
his address,
phone number?
Look. I really wish
I could help you,
but I can't.
I have to get back to work.
¶
Hey.
You know that gal back there?
She got a man, manager?
Hey, do I got to pull my badge?
Hey, we run clean here.
How you gonna run
when you're shut down
6 months for
a grand jury inquiry?
Why are you making me
say this shit, man?
Do you know her old man?
Yeah, he came around,
collecting from her.
Boss kicked him out
for trying to sell
christie, the girls.
That was about a month ago.
Look familiar?
Yeah, that's him.
He ever pick her up?
Yeah.
HART, VOICE-OVER:
Went to work on Tyro Weems,
known associates, family.
Had a little leeway with Quesada
now that we had our suspect.
¶
Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!
Goddamn it!
- Lisa?
- How does it feel?
I told you you can't
treat people like this.
Listen, I just need to know
exactly what you told her.
You think it's OK what you do?
All of you think it's OK
to treat your wives
the way you do,
to treat women the way...
Fucking liars and bullies,
and this is what you get!
This is what you get!
I have children.
You blew up my life,
you fucking whore!
What did you just call me?!
What did you just call me,
you fucking wet-noodle,
whiskey-dick faggot fuck?!
I will skull-fuck you,
you bitch!
¶
HART, VOICE-OVER:
Hello, Jake?
Jake, is this you?
Marty?
Is Maggie there?
That's none of your
goddamn business.
Jake, I know she's there,
I know she's there,
so just put her
on the phone, would you, please?
Leave her alone,
you fuckin' asshole.
Jake, I...
You're not hearing me.
I don't know
what she told you.
Leave her alone.
And I know we haven't
always seen eye to eye...
You're goddamn right,
we haven't seen eye to eye.
Just please,
put her on the phone
for me. Just please...
No, no.
You are no damn good, Marty,
she deserves better,
and don't call here again.
Jake.
HART, VOICE-OVER:
How many exes
you guys have?
I mean, that's what
I'm talking about.
Did I make some mistakes?
Yes.
You know the detective's curse?
Solution was right under
my nose, but I was paying
attention to the wrong clues?
¶
See you later.
Bye, hon.
¶
Fuck.
Reggie Ledoux.
Where is he? Now.
That's what this is
about? Yo, man, why
didn't you say so?
Where the fuck is he?
I... I heard
he still cook.
I heard he stopped selling
after he did his bit,
that he only cook
for one client now.
Who?
Some bike gang.
They buy all his product.
Bulk order, no mess.
I heard this
at the clubs is all.
Reggie don't distribute no more.
Which bike club?
Iron Heroes or some shit.
Iron... Iron Crusaders.
I don't keep up
with them gearheads.
Iron Crusaders?
You sure?
Yup. Them ones.
What I heard, Reggie cook
their loads and that's all.
Close your eyes
and count to
a hundred,
if you can.
Go.
1...2...
Louder.
3!
4...5...
HART, ON PHONE:
Listen I... I talked
to Weems and, uh,
the dude is cooking
for some motorcycle
gang out of Texas.
Iron Crusaders.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
but... Iron... Iron Crusaders?
You're sure he said
Iron Crusaders?
I'm sure he said Iron Crusaders.
So we'll, uh,
we'll chase that tomorrow, yeah?
What are you doing
right now?
Right now I'm busy.
COHLE, VOICE-OVER:
And, as I recall, I...
I had to take
some personal time,
see my dad.
I mean, this is like,
what, 17 years ago?
I mean, you'll have
to understand
if my memory hasn't
sharpened in the interim.
Ahem.
Fran, stay by the phone.
I will.
Maggie, can I talk to
you for just a second?
No. I'm working graveyard.
Girls are with my mom and dad.
It's all in the note, Marty.
OK, will you give me
a chance to...
She came to my home.
Our daughters saw her.
You lying fuck.
You stupid, lying fuck.
Jesus Christ.
Listen to me, Mags.
I meant everything
I said the other
night, every word.
I... I stopped.
Oh, my God.
You think your
betrayal's removed
by its interruption?
She was disgusting.
You're disgusting.
You can't fix this.
Listen to me.
God, listen...
Get your hands off me.
OK.
I... I've been...
I've been a mess.
Rattled. My...
Just...
my dad dying...
Oh, my God.
That was a year ago.
And drinking and...
I don't give a shit
about your goddamn
feelings.
You need to get out
of our lives, Marty,
me and the girls'.
Read the note. It's all there
and you can't come home.
You don't mean that.
Yes. Yes, I do.
You don't mean that.
Listen, I...
You are not gonna
break up my fuckin'
family, OK?
Get out of here right now!
No.
Excuse me.
You all right, Maggie?
Sir, I suggest you leave.
Everything's fine, Doc.
I'm State Police.
I appreciate that,
but are you here
in that capacity now,
as... as law enforcement?
¶
You don't want to do this.
Get your hands
off me, goddamn it,
and call your
commanding officer.
You're making
a scene, Marty!
No!
There is no scene,
unless Mall Patrol
here makes one.
I am calmly discussing
a private matter
with my wife!
Private in a pretty
public way, man.
Easy, easy.
This is none of your
fuckin' business.
No, no.
It's none of my business,
but we got to work.
You hear me, Marty?
I got a line on Ledoux.
I got it right fuckin' now.
I need you to come in,
leave this shit till later.
I love you, honey,
and I ain't givin' up.
Come on.
We can get to Ledoux.
Marty, it's gonna be dirty.
I just need her
to give me another shot.
If I could just get
another shot...
Listen, can I
tell you something?
Yeah.
This is none of my business.
I don't want to hear it.
All right. I'm sorry.
¶
You total shit.
You know, this is part
on you, you know?
You can't just slide
into my life,
creating tensions, judging me...
What, I make you tap
some bimbo, looks like
a young Maggie?
I make you flaunt that shit?
Fuck, that night
at the Longhorn,
you were so obvious,
man, checking her out,
and she looked
crazy enough to have
followed you there.
With all the dick
swagger you roll, you
can't spot crazy pussy?
I fucked up.
I just...
I like something wild.
I always did.
I just...
it feels like it...
It smoothes out
the other parts
of my life most of...
Listen, Marty,
one more time. It's none
of my fuckin' business.
Ah, fuck.
Look, we got a job to do.
Off-book.
That's the only play
I can think of.
I... I got to straighten out
things with the family.
I got to fix it.
That bike club.
I know 'em.
I had deals
with 'em when I was
working narco.
We can get to that
motherfucker Ledoux.
So, enough with this
self-improvement,
penance,
hand-wringing shit.
Let's go to work.
Do you think you're...
Fuck!
Hell of a bedside manner
you got, Rust.
Ah, you know being
stupid's different
than callin' in sick,
and this is a bar,
not a fuckin' bedside.
Friend in need.
Every time I think
you hit a ceiling,
you just keep raising the bar.
You are like
the Michael Jordan of
being a son of a bitch.
Let's go. Come on.
Really gonna love
this jacket I got.
Holy shit.
You visit a lot of gun shows?
Ah, it's just some stuff
I kept in case some work
came back on me.
These boys Ledoux deals to,
they're out of east Texas.
I worked 'em when I
was DEA task force.
They know you're 5-0?
No.
I wasn't sure,
so I checked with
my old handler.
As far as my cover goes,
I took 3 slugs in a DEA shootout
in Port Houston.
Anybody
that gives a shit
figures I'm dead.
Major said
the task force used
to call you Crash.
I'm gonna have to take
some personal time
on this, Marty,
a couple of weeks.
Got to get out there
and get seen, drop
some lines.
I mean, badges ain't
gonna get us near
these people,
so the plan is
we make 'em an offer...
we get a line on their supplier,
confirm it's Ledoux,
bring him in.
And then, once we're out there,
all right, it's just
you and me on this.
I don't like that.
What happens, they clock
you're not you?
Mmm.
No, I can't do
what I need to do
if we got watchdogs.
Besides, like you said,
Quesada'd pull me.
The stakes ain't
that high anyway.
I get found, I take
a bullet to the head.
This cartel I worked
on the border,
they, uh, they had this routine.
They'd duct-tape you
to a chair that was
bolted to the floor,
use a couple rolls,
make sure you couldn't
budge a fuckin' inch.
And they'd cut around your face,
grip your scalp, yank down,
rip your face off.
Hmm.
And they'd put a mirror
in front of you
so you could get
a good look at yourself.
And they'd cut your dick
and your balls off...
shove 'em down your throat
until you bled and choked out,
while you were watching.
So...
as far as high stakes go,
bullet to the head?
It ain't that.
Hey.
You sure you want to do this?
Not exactly.
¶
Realize you got
a upstairs here, right?
What is that?
Ink and cayenne.
Irritates the skin,
looks contused.
How long they have you
out there, working
the corridor?
Almost 4 years.
4? What the hell?
UCs ain't supposed
to do more than
11 months.
Yeah, but I... I'd
fucked up on the job,
and to make it better,
they went with me.
That's a long time,
being like that.
I need a good story
to move fast, and I
think I got one.
All we need now is
some good coke.
Where you gonna get that?
Don't worry about it.
So you got a suspect,
and you take a leave of absence?
Yup.
Like I said, to see my pops.
Had leukemia.
¶
Favre. Ahem. I get
the evidence key
from you?
Yeah. Heard you
were taking time.
Thank you.
Leaving tonight.
Sign the log.
Yep.
¶
You supposed to see
both eyes in this one?
¶
They really should have
a better system for this.
We looked
at your old partner's
history.
And coincidences keep
mounting, Detective.
Oh, coincidences like what?
Well, I don't know
if it would qualify
as coincidence, but,
near as we could tell,
his pops never had
leukemia.
No hospital records of that.
Fact, nobody in
that town in Alaska's
seen Travis Cohle
in more than 30 years.
That it?
You still angry
at him, your pops?
No.
He's dead.
You were, though.
I mean, why you two didn't talk.
We never really liked
each other.
There's a difference.
He was in 'Nam.
Met my mother on leave
in Galveston.
Time he came back, I was two.
She dumped me on him,
then she hauled ass,
and he and I moved to Alaska.
He was a survivalist,
I guess you'd call it.
Had some very fucking
strange ideas.
Oh, there's nothing like
the night sky out there, though.
But I couldn't handle
the cold, so...
I headed back to south Texas
'cause all I could remember
was at least it never got cold.
My old man always made
like I let him down
that way.
Said I had no loyalty.
¶
A clean break
is best now, while
they're still young.
Look, that's none
of my business.
I mean, but I do need him
to watch my back on this.
This is how you all get warped.
You always short-change
the wrong things.
Short-change?
Mm-hmm.
What else?
He wanted me to pass
a tide of apologies
of which I'll skip...
and he wants to see the girls,
if you can make time for it.
Kids are the only thing
that matter, Maggie.
They're the only reason
for this whole
man-woman drama.
I'm sorry.
What are you
suggesting, exactly?
Just that people fuck up.
We age.
Men, women... it's not
supposed to work
except to make kids.
So, if you can imagine
Marty's behavior
as an expression
of weakness, pain,
you'd see that it's
not about you.
So, end of the day,
you duck under
rationalization,
same as any of them.
You must have been
a great husband.
People have been
seeing me around
for about a week.
Guy I used to run
with, he wants
to meet me tonight.
Now, if I can get him
alone, we snatch him up,
work him over,
maybe get to Ledoux.
OK.
All right?
Great.
Listen...
Phone's fully charged.
And remember,
it's real simple.
Green... answers,
red... hangs up.
All right.
I'm the only one that's
gonna be calling.
Yeah.
And keep it charged.
Listen, uh, how was she?
What'd she say?
She was better.
I could see her
softening.
She didn't use the "D" word.
My odds, I could see
you two back together
within a couple months.
That your honest read?
That's my honest read, Marty.
¶
COHLE, VOICE-OVER:
Look, I don't know
how this guy I'm
meeting tonight
feels about me.
OK?
What does that mean?
It means, if you lose
track of me tonight,
keep this fucker handy
and be listening
to Beaumont police
channels.
Yeah.
You got it?
Yeah.
You got it?
I got it.
Are you gonna be
all right?
Yeah.
¶
Crash, here for Ginger.
Well, after Houston,
I got to a doc in Eagle Pass,
then a coyote got me
across the border.
Past two years, I been
working security
for a group in San Miguel.
Feds never ID'd me,
you know, so I figured,
hell, two years pass,
things chill down,
it's cool for me
to come back,
stick my head up.
That'll be tough, man...
thinkin' you been dead
this whole time.
I look dead, motherfucker?
I'm lookin' to get with you.
You or Miles.
Miles ain't gonna want
to see you, Crash.
Oh, I think
he might.
Well, yeah.
Then I'd say
I don't think
you want to see Miles.
Man, I ain't here
to start a thing,
all right?
Boys I been running
with in Mexico,
there could be
a hell of a deal
for both sides,
fuckin' money to be made.
Real money.
What kind of money?
¶
Goddamn Rust.
What the fuck?
My boys are looking
to trade, all right?
Coke for meth.
What you got there?
Ahem.
This one's just for you.
Just for me?
Uh-huh.
What'd you cut it with?
Oh, you'll see.
You'll dig it.
After all I meant to you, huh?
Now, who exactly are these guys?
Uh, they, uh...
ex-Mex Army.
They got a Colombian connection.
They need meth for
the maquiladoras.
Yeah, they could
cook it themselves,
but then the cartels
would take notice,
and that ain't what
they're lookin' for.
Hmm.
Here.
Taste that, homie.
That ain't no
fuck-around shit.
Goddamn.
Whew.
You keep it.
I've got bulldozers'
worth of that shit
where I came from.
The thing is...
we got one cook.
Does all our work,
exclusive-like.
He's real specific about that.
Now, what's this
worth to you, Crash, me
selling Miles on this?
Well, I'd go you one
better, brother.
We don't take that shit
to Miles at all.
You and me work the supplier,
the cut's
whatever the fuck
we want it to be.
Now, now, that's
tricky shit, bro,
and I don't know you
like I used to.
Yeah, I don't know you
like I used to, either.
That's why the fuck I'm here.
Well, let me tell you
why I came, Crash.
I need something
from you, tonight.
I had a 4-man team
for a big grab,
lost one to smokies.
I came looking to replace him,
if you're still
a bad-ass.
I don't do A&R, man,
no fuckin' bank jobs.
It ain't nothin' like that.
I need a good soldier.
Now, you do this with us,
we talk about
puttin' you with my man.
Look.
I don't ride cowboy
no more, Ginger.
Oh.
I don't do
this small-time shit
like this thing
you're talking
about, all right?
What, you get neutered
down south, huh?
I embrace the outlaw life.
Now, you dress the part still.
That just an act?
When in Rome, brother,
but I do clean up
real fuckin' pretty.
Motherfucker,
I need a gunslinger.
Now, you ain't too timid,
get on this shit with me.
Then we can talk
about doin' business.
Where?
My place.
Down the bayou.
All right.
I got my truck.
It'll be safe here.
Members only.
I'm just lookin' for a friend.
¶
Hey. What the fuck?
Look, look, look,
my buddy's not here.
You ain't listening!
I'm his sponsor, and
I'm worried that he
might have started
drinking again.
You better worry
that we don't pull
your head off
and shit down your neck!
He's been 20 years sober.
Just give me one second.
What the hell!
I'm leaving, sir.
A guy can just come
in here and say,
"Lookin' for a fuckin' friend"?!
Ought to worry more
about your balls, faggot!
Get the fuck outta here!
I'm leaving.
Jesus Christ.
Run, motherfucker!
That's good.
Son of a bitch, man!
Fuck is that?
That there?
That's Tigger
the nigger.
Name's
Tiger Thomas.
Dealer in them
Hoston Projects.
You know them?
That's like them
bungalowed, flat-like
joints, right?
Yeah.
They keep a stash house there.
I'll get you, you fucking dicks!
Hey, why don't you
shut the fuck up,
nigger?
Fuck you!
So you all gonna
take a stash house
in coon country, huh, 4 guys?
Well, how big's
the projects, man, like
square block-wise?
Get the gear, mates.
Wait till you see this.
You're gonna love it.
Oh, you're going in
as cops, huh?
Uh-huh.
Yeah.
You know where
the stash house is?
Tiger's gonna take us there.
Well, you got an exit plan?
Hmm?
Timetable?
The real cops come,
then what, huh?
I mean, you say
you're going in
the one fuckin' car?
Uh-huh.
Far as I remember, man,
the place is blocked in.
That is one way in, one way out.
It could be fuckin'
Mogadishu, man.
We hit trouble,
you're just gonna
fuck it in the ass.
You scoop out the soft brains
inside the skull.
Well, so you have
thought it out.
My bad.
I come through
for you on this tonight,
I got to know you're
gonna hook me up,
'cause I got a real job
I was supposed
to be doing.
Hmm?
You got my word.
You back me on this,
I'll back you.
Fuck it. Let's go.
Up and at 'em, eggplant.
Motherfuckers.
Fuck you!
Come on.
Y'all are dead!
Y'all are dead!
406 reported on
Fullington Street...
Air 3, Dispatch.
Go ahead, Air 3.
Over Zone 6, Hoston Projects.
Pretty quiet, possible 507s.
Everything's Code 4.
Copy that.
10-4, Air 3.
Man, you got
two ways of lookin'
at it, Tiger.
You can die and lose your shit,
or you could live,
go make some more shit.
¶
What's up?
Y'all get back
in your house, now. Police.
Sheriff's Department!
Get back in your house.
Do it.
There's nothin' to see here.
Sorry son of a bitch.
Fuck out of here
and start going...
Fucker, start moving.
Tiger, man, yo.
What's up, man? What's this?
Yo! Fuck! Lamar!
Sheriff's Department.
Lamar!
Freeze, motherfucker.
Come on...
Aah!
Get up there, big boy.
Get on the door.
Tell them
that it's safe.
Lamar.
Get the fuck off me!
Come open the door,
Lamar.
Tell them who you are.
Fuckin' door, man.
It's Tiger.
Get up here. Get back!
Police!
Fuck!
Everybody down, now!
Sheriffs!
Hands behind your head!
Shut up!
Get the fuck down!
Don't move.
Get in the tub.
Listen, listen.
You lay down.
Don't you move.
Got no shit!
Let me outta here!
Shut your fuckin' mouth!
- Look on the left.
- It's right there.
No, no, no, no.
Ginger, no.
Don't touch it.
It's in there.
You open it, motherfucker.
Get that gun
out of my face.
I'll put something else
in your face, you don't shut up.
Get your fuckin' ass
over there! Start movin'!
Come on!
Ginger.
You motherfucker!
Get that shit off of there!
Come on!
Hurry your ass up!
Fuck.
Fuck you!
All right, 30 seconds,
in and out.
30 seconds, in and out, Ginger.
Get that safe open.
Watch it, watch it.
I'll nuke you,
motherfucker.
Keep your fuckin' mouth shut.
I'm gonna fire on you,
motherfucker.
Get the fuck off my dawg!
- Fuck!
- Easy, easy.
Just get in and get
the fuck out, Ginger.
It's Christmastime, Crash!
We got this shit!
Easy.
Fuck that fake-ass po-po!
Stay calm. Get it,
Ginger. Get the fuck
out of here.
Ginger, man, they're
gathering out there...
Aah!
Come on, Ginger!
They're animals
out there, man.
Easy, easy.
Easy, motherfucker.
Easy. Easy.
Ginger, let's fuckin' go!
You sorry-ass
motherfucker!
Easy.
I told your cracker ass!
You're dead!
Don't fucking
fire! Do not...
Goddamn it.
Lamar!
Ginger! Ginger!
Stop fuckin' around!
Fuck!
Fuck!
What the fuck!
Ginger!
I fuckin' knew it!
Aah!
Wish I could have done
this from the start,
you fucking moron!
Oh, fuck! What the fuck
are you doin', man?
Shut the fuck up.
Motherfucker!
Hey!
Get up.
Freeze. Who else
is in the house?
Nobody.
OK. Get in the bathroom.
In the bathroom.
Lay down.
Marty, OK.
I need you to meet me
at Amelia Street
between 18th and 19th
in 90 seconds.
You got it?
You got it?
Amelia!
18th and 19th!
90 seconds, motherfucker!
Ooh, one right there!
Aah!
Here comes
another one!
Aah!
Get your ass up!
Come on!
Aah!
Ginger.
You stupid mother...
The neighborhood...
Come on, man!
Police behind us, man!
Come on.
Keep going, man!
Come on! Hurry up, man!
Put the weapon down!
You motherfucker!
I'll get you!
You'll get yours,
fuckin' Crash,
you motherfucker.
You'll get... aah!
Come out with your hands raised!
Get down on your knees!
Quick, hide. Here.
Oh!
Oh, shit!
Hey!
Go!
Go.
Go, go, go!
What the fuck happened?
Remember that meth contact now?
You rat motherfucker!
You're gonna give me
the location for Ledoux,
I'm gonna let you slide, Ginger.
Bullshit.
What the fuck you think
I want with you, huh?
Oh, goddamn.
I am so done talking
to you like a man.
Go, go.
We have multiple gunshots.
217, multiple suspects...
¶
¶
What you doing?
You fucked with us, Charlie.
I did not, sir.
Reggie Ledoux.
Hey, I don't even want
to know that freak, man.
Y'all ain't asked
nothin' about Reggie.
Fuck, man, my...
My wife just died...
Ex-wife!
You had Reggie Ledoux
take her out,
didn't you?
No.
Hmm?
What are you
talking about, man?
Hmm?
Reggie? Put her out there
with them antlers on? I...
You have Reggie do it?
What are you
talking about?
Hmm?
Reggie Ledoux did this?
Reggie Ledoux?
Reggie motherfuckin'
Ledoux did this?!
Fuck, man! Shit!
Let me out, man!
Let me out!
Fuck, man!
Hey, Charlie?
We're not gonna give you
the Oscar no matter
how hard you try.
Oh, fuck you, man.
You don't know me.
You don't know
what I been through.
And what are you talking
about? You talk to me!
Ledoux knew about her, right?
You talk about her to him?
Yeah, man... yeah,
the way you do
sharing a house.
Yeah, you talk pussy,
talk scores.
That's what you do.
Showed him pictures of her, hmm?
Yeah, I guess so, yeah.
I had some she give me
when I first went down,
stuff for me to look at.
You know, like Polaroids.
He was a big guy...
A lot bigger than you.
Do you tell me you
didn't get along?
Nah, I mean, I did, most part.
You've got to,
you're sharing a house,
like I'm saying.
I mean, he gets you high,
man, but he's creep.
I ain't want to know him.
Tell me about Ledoux.
How is he creep?
He's a cook, you know,
like a chemist?
He used to, uh, make shit
out of kitchen stuff...
Cook down cleansers and whatnot.
Used tater skins
and fry grease to make
high-test sour mash.
He got mad knowledge
for that shit, but,
like, I don't know, man,
he talk like a short-eyes,
like something.
How you mean?
He wouldn't talk
that shit up in here.
No, man, he didn't.
Like, me and him
at night,
blasted up on one of his mixes.
I mean, he could
brew some shit up
put you up out your head, man.
That's a big deal in here.
I mean, fuck, man,
it's a big deal
out there, too.
So, uh, what kind
of shit was he talking?
He said that there's
this place down south
where all these rich men
go to, uh, devil-worship.
He said that, uh...
they... they sacrifice
kids and whatnot.
Women and children all got...
All got murdered there, and, um,
something about someplace
called Carcosa
and the Yellow King.
He said there's all
these, like, old stones
out in the woods,
people go to, like, worship.
He said, uh...
He said there's just
so much good killin'
down there.
Reggie got this
brand on his back,
like in a spiral?
He says that's their sign.
What the fuck ever,
you understand?
I don't listen
to the man, but he's big,
so I don't tell him
to shut the fuck up,
neither!
You remember
any buddies he ever
talked about?
So we checked the records here,
and he hadn't ever
had any visitors.
We both know Tyro Weems.
Tyrone like to tell you
where he's at.
Look, man, Reggie's
crazy, like, for real.
Had to be tough,
living with
somebody spouting
insane shit
in your ear all day long.
You gonna give me
something for what
I told you just now?
Parole board nod.
Fair's fair.
Hey. Hey!
You think 'cause I talked
to him about Dori that...
I might have got her killed?
You probably had
something to do with it.
I don't think you
should have shown him
those pictures.
Do you?
We need to find
this Tyrone Weems,
see what he knows about Ledoux.
Yeah.
Ahem.
You didn't have to
tell him it was
his fault.
Guy was already low.
Yeah, he asked
about his end first.
Parole board.
So?
So fuck him.
¶
You're funny, Marty...
The shit you get soft about.
HART, VOICE-OVER: I wanted
every member of that family
that I could find.
Turns out...
there weren't any.
You know how weird
that is in Louisiana?
A cousin, what was it,
Dewall, was
not on paper except
for a, uh, trucker's license.
Ledoux had turned into a ghost
from the time he skipped
parole check.
Tell me, young studs,
what would you do
when you hit a wall like that?
Responding to the complaint,
I approached the house.
Seeing that the screen door
was broken and the inner door...
ajar, I... I felt that entrance
complied with standard
procedure.
Upon entering
the domicile, I noticed
what appeared to be marijuana
and a white powder
on the coffee table.
Hey, Martin.
We don't have to talk, Lisa.
The hell we don't.
You don't get to do
what you did to me
last week.
Look, I'm sorry.
I was hurt
and real drunk.
Talk to me now.
OK. Ah, I wish you
a great life
and good luck with
your new friend.
You philandering
fucking asshole.
Hey, look.
There is no pageant
to perform, OK, and
your disappointment
is irrelevant.
You don't get to act
like that, Marty,
or like this.
The fact is it's nice
to know you got him,
and I don't want to
have this conversation
with you.
You need to respect me, Marty.
This is respect.
Rust figured a connection with
an earlier death, suspicious...
Rianne Olivier.
Led us to the DB's old
boyfriend, Reginald Ledoux, 35.
Statch rape charge
against a 12-year-old,
acquitted for lack of testimony.
Did a bit for manufacturing
meth and LSD,
which fits the tox screen
for Lange.
His old cellmate
was Lange's ex-husband.
He showed him some
cheesecake pictures
of her.
Uh, from what we know about him,
the way he talked,
he sounds like he's
real good for it.
No line on any of his people.
Swamp folk, dug in off the grid.
We are tracking
a KA, Tyrone Weems.
He's in the sheets
that we passed out.
Any questions?
I didn't think so.
Let's get to work.
¶
Are you Theresa Weems,
Tyrone Weems' mom?
Tyrone ain't been around
in a while.
You know, a few months.
We got in a fight 'cause
he sold my microwave.
And what about his friends?
You know where they hang out?
I don't know, he dated
this girl Kelsey
for a little while.
Kelsey,
when's the last time
you saw Tyrone?
Months.
We've been broke up.
I don't ever hear from him.
I don't want to.
I heard he got
Shawnda Miller pregnant.
So do you have
his address,
phone number?
Look. I really wish
I could help you,
but I can't.
I have to get back to work.
¶
Hey.
You know that gal back there?
She got a man, manager?
Hey, do I got to pull my badge?
Hey, we run clean here.
How you gonna run
when you're shut down
6 months for
a grand jury inquiry?
Why are you making me
say this shit, man?
Do you know her old man?
Yeah, he came around,
collecting from her.
Boss kicked him out
for trying to sell
christie, the girls.
That was about a month ago.
Look familiar?
Yeah, that's him.
He ever pick her up?
Yeah.
HART, VOICE-OVER:
Went to work on Tyro Weems,
known associates, family.
Had a little leeway with Quesada
now that we had our suspect.
¶
Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!
Goddamn it!
- Lisa?
- How does it feel?
I told you you can't
treat people like this.
Listen, I just need to know
exactly what you told her.
You think it's OK what you do?
All of you think it's OK
to treat your wives
the way you do,
to treat women the way...
Fucking liars and bullies,
and this is what you get!
This is what you get!
I have children.
You blew up my life,
you fucking whore!
What did you just call me?!
What did you just call me,
you fucking wet-noodle,
whiskey-dick faggot fuck?!
I will skull-fuck you,
you bitch!
¶
HART, VOICE-OVER:
Hello, Jake?
Jake, is this you?
Marty?
Is Maggie there?
That's none of your
goddamn business.
Jake, I know she's there,
I know she's there,
so just put her
on the phone, would you, please?
Leave her alone,
you fuckin' asshole.
Jake, I...
You're not hearing me.
I don't know
what she told you.
Leave her alone.
And I know we haven't
always seen eye to eye...
You're goddamn right,
we haven't seen eye to eye.
Just please,
put her on the phone
for me. Just please...
No, no.
You are no damn good, Marty,
she deserves better,
and don't call here again.
Jake.
HART, VOICE-OVER:
How many exes
you guys have?
I mean, that's what
I'm talking about.
Did I make some mistakes?
Yes.
You know the detective's curse?
Solution was right under
my nose, but I was paying
attention to the wrong clues?
¶
See you later.
Bye, hon.
¶
Fuck.
Reggie Ledoux.
Where is he? Now.
That's what this is
about? Yo, man, why
didn't you say so?
Where the fuck is he?
I... I heard
he still cook.
I heard he stopped selling
after he did his bit,
that he only cook
for one client now.
Who?
Some bike gang.
They buy all his product.
Bulk order, no mess.
I heard this
at the clubs is all.
Reggie don't distribute no more.
Which bike club?
Iron Heroes or some shit.
Iron... Iron Crusaders.
I don't keep up
with them gearheads.
Iron Crusaders?
You sure?
Yup. Them ones.
What I heard, Reggie cook
their loads and that's all.
Close your eyes
and count to
a hundred,
if you can.
Go.
1...2...
Louder.
3!
4...5...
HART, ON PHONE:
Listen I... I talked
to Weems and, uh,
the dude is cooking
for some motorcycle
gang out of Texas.
Iron Crusaders.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
but... Iron... Iron Crusaders?
You're sure he said
Iron Crusaders?
I'm sure he said Iron Crusaders.
So we'll, uh,
we'll chase that tomorrow, yeah?
What are you doing
right now?
Right now I'm busy.
COHLE, VOICE-OVER:
And, as I recall, I...
I had to take
some personal time,
see my dad.
I mean, this is like,
what, 17 years ago?
I mean, you'll have
to understand
if my memory hasn't
sharpened in the interim.
Ahem.
Fran, stay by the phone.
I will.
Maggie, can I talk to
you for just a second?
No. I'm working graveyard.
Girls are with my mom and dad.
It's all in the note, Marty.
OK, will you give me
a chance to...
She came to my home.
Our daughters saw her.
You lying fuck.
You stupid, lying fuck.
Jesus Christ.
Listen to me, Mags.
I meant everything
I said the other
night, every word.
I... I stopped.
Oh, my God.
You think your
betrayal's removed
by its interruption?
She was disgusting.
You're disgusting.
You can't fix this.
Listen to me.
God, listen...
Get your hands off me.
OK.
I... I've been...
I've been a mess.
Rattled. My...
Just...
my dad dying...
Oh, my God.
That was a year ago.
And drinking and...
I don't give a shit
about your goddamn
feelings.
You need to get out
of our lives, Marty,
me and the girls'.
Read the note. It's all there
and you can't come home.
You don't mean that.
Yes. Yes, I do.
You don't mean that.
Listen, I...
You are not gonna
break up my fuckin'
family, OK?
Get out of here right now!
No.
Excuse me.
You all right, Maggie?
Sir, I suggest you leave.
Everything's fine, Doc.
I'm State Police.
I appreciate that,
but are you here
in that capacity now,
as... as law enforcement?
¶
You don't want to do this.
Get your hands
off me, goddamn it,
and call your
commanding officer.
You're making
a scene, Marty!
No!
There is no scene,
unless Mall Patrol
here makes one.
I am calmly discussing
a private matter
with my wife!
Private in a pretty
public way, man.
Easy, easy.
This is none of your
fuckin' business.
No, no.
It's none of my business,
but we got to work.
You hear me, Marty?
I got a line on Ledoux.
I got it right fuckin' now.
I need you to come in,
leave this shit till later.
I love you, honey,
and I ain't givin' up.
Come on.
We can get to Ledoux.
Marty, it's gonna be dirty.
I just need her
to give me another shot.
If I could just get
another shot...
Listen, can I
tell you something?
Yeah.
This is none of my business.
I don't want to hear it.
All right. I'm sorry.
¶
You total shit.
You know, this is part
on you, you know?
You can't just slide
into my life,
creating tensions, judging me...
What, I make you tap
some bimbo, looks like
a young Maggie?
I make you flaunt that shit?
Fuck, that night
at the Longhorn,
you were so obvious,
man, checking her out,
and she looked
crazy enough to have
followed you there.
With all the dick
swagger you roll, you
can't spot crazy pussy?
I fucked up.
I just...
I like something wild.
I always did.
I just...
it feels like it...
It smoothes out
the other parts
of my life most of...
Listen, Marty,
one more time. It's none
of my fuckin' business.
Ah, fuck.
Look, we got a job to do.
Off-book.
That's the only play
I can think of.
I... I got to straighten out
things with the family.
I got to fix it.
That bike club.
I know 'em.
I had deals
with 'em when I was
working narco.
We can get to that
motherfucker Ledoux.
So, enough with this
self-improvement,
penance,
hand-wringing shit.
Let's go to work.
Do you think you're...
Fuck!
Hell of a bedside manner
you got, Rust.
Ah, you know being
stupid's different
than callin' in sick,
and this is a bar,
not a fuckin' bedside.
Friend in need.
Every time I think
you hit a ceiling,
you just keep raising the bar.
You are like
the Michael Jordan of
being a son of a bitch.
Let's go. Come on.
Really gonna love
this jacket I got.
Holy shit.
You visit a lot of gun shows?
Ah, it's just some stuff
I kept in case some work
came back on me.
These boys Ledoux deals to,
they're out of east Texas.
I worked 'em when I
was DEA task force.
They know you're 5-0?
No.
I wasn't sure,
so I checked with
my old handler.
As far as my cover goes,
I took 3 slugs in a DEA shootout
in Port Houston.
Anybody
that gives a shit
figures I'm dead.
Major said
the task force used
to call you Crash.
I'm gonna have to take
some personal time
on this, Marty,
a couple of weeks.
Got to get out there
and get seen, drop
some lines.
I mean, badges ain't
gonna get us near
these people,
so the plan is
we make 'em an offer...
we get a line on their supplier,
confirm it's Ledoux,
bring him in.
And then, once we're out there,
all right, it's just
you and me on this.
I don't like that.
What happens, they clock
you're not you?
Mmm.
No, I can't do
what I need to do
if we got watchdogs.
Besides, like you said,
Quesada'd pull me.
The stakes ain't
that high anyway.
I get found, I take
a bullet to the head.
This cartel I worked
on the border,
they, uh, they had this routine.
They'd duct-tape you
to a chair that was
bolted to the floor,
use a couple rolls,
make sure you couldn't
budge a fuckin' inch.
And they'd cut around your face,
grip your scalp, yank down,
rip your face off.
Hmm.
And they'd put a mirror
in front of you
so you could get
a good look at yourself.
And they'd cut your dick
and your balls off...
shove 'em down your throat
until you bled and choked out,
while you were watching.
So...
as far as high stakes go,
bullet to the head?
It ain't that.
Hey.
You sure you want to do this?
Not exactly.
¶
Realize you got
a upstairs here, right?
What is that?
Ink and cayenne.
Irritates the skin,
looks contused.
How long they have you
out there, working
the corridor?
Almost 4 years.
4? What the hell?
UCs ain't supposed
to do more than
11 months.
Yeah, but I... I'd
fucked up on the job,
and to make it better,
they went with me.
That's a long time,
being like that.
I need a good story
to move fast, and I
think I got one.
All we need now is
some good coke.
Where you gonna get that?
Don't worry about it.
So you got a suspect,
and you take a leave of absence?
Yup.
Like I said, to see my pops.
Had leukemia.
¶
Favre. Ahem. I get
the evidence key
from you?
Yeah. Heard you
were taking time.
Thank you.
Leaving tonight.
Sign the log.
Yep.
¶
You supposed to see
both eyes in this one?
¶
They really should have
a better system for this.
We looked
at your old partner's
history.
And coincidences keep
mounting, Detective.
Oh, coincidences like what?
Well, I don't know
if it would qualify
as coincidence, but,
near as we could tell,
his pops never had
leukemia.
No hospital records of that.
Fact, nobody in
that town in Alaska's
seen Travis Cohle
in more than 30 years.
That it?
You still angry
at him, your pops?
No.
He's dead.
You were, though.
I mean, why you two didn't talk.
We never really liked
each other.
There's a difference.
He was in 'Nam.
Met my mother on leave
in Galveston.
Time he came back, I was two.
She dumped me on him,
then she hauled ass,
and he and I moved to Alaska.
He was a survivalist,
I guess you'd call it.
Had some very fucking
strange ideas.
Oh, there's nothing like
the night sky out there, though.
But I couldn't handle
the cold, so...
I headed back to south Texas
'cause all I could remember
was at least it never got cold.
My old man always made
like I let him down
that way.
Said I had no loyalty.
¶
A clean break
is best now, while
they're still young.
Look, that's none
of my business.
I mean, but I do need him
to watch my back on this.
This is how you all get warped.
You always short-change
the wrong things.
Short-change?
Mm-hmm.
What else?
He wanted me to pass
a tide of apologies
of which I'll skip...
and he wants to see the girls,
if you can make time for it.
Kids are the only thing
that matter, Maggie.
They're the only reason
for this whole
man-woman drama.
I'm sorry.
What are you
suggesting, exactly?
Just that people fuck up.
We age.
Men, women... it's not
supposed to work
except to make kids.
So, if you can imagine
Marty's behavior
as an expression
of weakness, pain,
you'd see that it's
not about you.
So, end of the day,
you duck under
rationalization,
same as any of them.
You must have been
a great husband.
People have been
seeing me around
for about a week.
Guy I used to run
with, he wants
to meet me tonight.
Now, if I can get him
alone, we snatch him up,
work him over,
maybe get to Ledoux.
OK.
All right?
Great.
Listen...
Phone's fully charged.
And remember,
it's real simple.
Green... answers,
red... hangs up.
All right.
I'm the only one that's
gonna be calling.
Yeah.
And keep it charged.
Listen, uh, how was she?
What'd she say?
She was better.
I could see her
softening.
She didn't use the "D" word.
My odds, I could see
you two back together
within a couple months.
That your honest read?
That's my honest read, Marty.
¶
COHLE, VOICE-OVER:
Look, I don't know
how this guy I'm
meeting tonight
feels about me.
OK?
What does that mean?
It means, if you lose
track of me tonight,
keep this fucker handy
and be listening
to Beaumont police
channels.
Yeah.
You got it?
Yeah.
You got it?
I got it.
Are you gonna be
all right?
Yeah.
¶
Crash, here for Ginger.
Well, after Houston,
I got to a doc in Eagle Pass,
then a coyote got me
across the border.
Past two years, I been
working security
for a group in San Miguel.
Feds never ID'd me,
you know, so I figured,
hell, two years pass,
things chill down,
it's cool for me
to come back,
stick my head up.
That'll be tough, man...
thinkin' you been dead
this whole time.
I look dead, motherfucker?
I'm lookin' to get with you.
You or Miles.
Miles ain't gonna want
to see you, Crash.
Oh, I think
he might.
Well, yeah.
Then I'd say
I don't think
you want to see Miles.
Man, I ain't here
to start a thing,
all right?
Boys I been running
with in Mexico,
there could be
a hell of a deal
for both sides,
fuckin' money to be made.
Real money.
What kind of money?
¶
Goddamn Rust.
What the fuck?
My boys are looking
to trade, all right?
Coke for meth.
What you got there?
Ahem.
This one's just for you.
Just for me?
Uh-huh.
What'd you cut it with?
Oh, you'll see.
You'll dig it.
After all I meant to you, huh?
Now, who exactly are these guys?
Uh, they, uh...
ex-Mex Army.
They got a Colombian connection.
They need meth for
the maquiladoras.
Yeah, they could
cook it themselves,
but then the cartels
would take notice,
and that ain't what
they're lookin' for.
Hmm.
Here.
Taste that, homie.
That ain't no
fuck-around shit.
Goddamn.
Whew.
You keep it.
I've got bulldozers'
worth of that shit
where I came from.
The thing is...
we got one cook.
Does all our work,
exclusive-like.
He's real specific about that.
Now, what's this
worth to you, Crash, me
selling Miles on this?
Well, I'd go you one
better, brother.
We don't take that shit
to Miles at all.
You and me work the supplier,
the cut's
whatever the fuck
we want it to be.
Now, now, that's
tricky shit, bro,
and I don't know you
like I used to.
Yeah, I don't know you
like I used to, either.
That's why the fuck I'm here.
Well, let me tell you
why I came, Crash.
I need something
from you, tonight.
I had a 4-man team
for a big grab,
lost one to smokies.
I came looking to replace him,
if you're still
a bad-ass.
I don't do A&R, man,
no fuckin' bank jobs.
It ain't nothin' like that.
I need a good soldier.
Now, you do this with us,
we talk about
puttin' you with my man.
Look.
I don't ride cowboy
no more, Ginger.
Oh.
I don't do
this small-time shit
like this thing
you're talking
about, all right?
What, you get neutered
down south, huh?
I embrace the outlaw life.
Now, you dress the part still.
That just an act?
When in Rome, brother,
but I do clean up
real fuckin' pretty.
Motherfucker,
I need a gunslinger.
Now, you ain't too timid,
get on this shit with me.
Then we can talk
about doin' business.
Where?
My place.
Down the bayou.
All right.
I got my truck.
It'll be safe here.
Members only.
I'm just lookin' for a friend.
¶
Hey. What the fuck?
Look, look, look,
my buddy's not here.
You ain't listening!
I'm his sponsor, and
I'm worried that he
might have started
drinking again.
You better worry
that we don't pull
your head off
and shit down your neck!
He's been 20 years sober.
Just give me one second.
What the hell!
I'm leaving, sir.
A guy can just come
in here and say,
"Lookin' for a fuckin' friend"?!
Ought to worry more
about your balls, faggot!
Get the fuck outta here!
I'm leaving.
Jesus Christ.
Run, motherfucker!
That's good.
Son of a bitch, man!
Fuck is that?
That there?
That's Tigger
the nigger.
Name's
Tiger Thomas.
Dealer in them
Hoston Projects.
You know them?
That's like them
bungalowed, flat-like
joints, right?
Yeah.
They keep a stash house there.
I'll get you, you fucking dicks!
Hey, why don't you
shut the fuck up,
nigger?
Fuck you!
So you all gonna
take a stash house
in coon country, huh, 4 guys?
Well, how big's
the projects, man, like
square block-wise?
Get the gear, mates.
Wait till you see this.
You're gonna love it.
Oh, you're going in
as cops, huh?
Uh-huh.
Yeah.
You know where
the stash house is?
Tiger's gonna take us there.
Well, you got an exit plan?
Hmm?
Timetable?
The real cops come,
then what, huh?
I mean, you say
you're going in
the one fuckin' car?
Uh-huh.
Far as I remember, man,
the place is blocked in.
That is one way in, one way out.
It could be fuckin'
Mogadishu, man.
We hit trouble,
you're just gonna
fuck it in the ass.
You scoop out the soft brains
inside the skull.
Well, so you have
thought it out.
My bad.
I come through
for you on this tonight,
I got to know you're
gonna hook me up,
'cause I got a real job
I was supposed
to be doing.
Hmm?
You got my word.
You back me on this,
I'll back you.
Fuck it. Let's go.
Up and at 'em, eggplant.
Motherfuckers.
Fuck you!
Come on.
Y'all are dead!
Y'all are dead!
406 reported on
Fullington Street...
Air 3, Dispatch.
Go ahead, Air 3.
Over Zone 6, Hoston Projects.
Pretty quiet, possible 507s.
Everything's Code 4.
Copy that.
10-4, Air 3.
Man, you got
two ways of lookin'
at it, Tiger.
You can die and lose your shit,
or you could live,
go make some more shit.
¶
What's up?
Y'all get back
in your house, now. Police.
Sheriff's Department!
Get back in your house.
Do it.
There's nothin' to see here.
Sorry son of a bitch.
Fuck out of here
and start going...
Fucker, start moving.
Tiger, man, yo.
What's up, man? What's this?
Yo! Fuck! Lamar!
Sheriff's Department.
Lamar!
Freeze, motherfucker.
Come on...
Aah!
Get up there, big boy.
Get on the door.
Tell them
that it's safe.
Lamar.
Get the fuck off me!
Come open the door,
Lamar.
Tell them who you are.
Fuckin' door, man.
It's Tiger.
Get up here. Get back!
Police!
Fuck!
Everybody down, now!
Sheriffs!
Hands behind your head!
Shut up!
Get the fuck down!
Don't move.
Get in the tub.
Listen, listen.
You lay down.
Don't you move.
Got no shit!
Let me outta here!
Shut your fuckin' mouth!
- Look on the left.
- It's right there.
No, no, no, no.
Ginger, no.
Don't touch it.
It's in there.
You open it, motherfucker.
Get that gun
out of my face.
I'll put something else
in your face, you don't shut up.
Get your fuckin' ass
over there! Start movin'!
Come on!
Ginger.
You motherfucker!
Get that shit off of there!
Come on!
Hurry your ass up!
Fuck.
Fuck you!
All right, 30 seconds,
in and out.
30 seconds, in and out, Ginger.
Get that safe open.
Watch it, watch it.
I'll nuke you,
motherfucker.
Keep your fuckin' mouth shut.
I'm gonna fire on you,
motherfucker.
Get the fuck off my dawg!
- Fuck!
- Easy, easy.
Just get in and get
the fuck out, Ginger.
It's Christmastime, Crash!
We got this shit!
Easy.
Fuck that fake-ass po-po!
Stay calm. Get it,
Ginger. Get the fuck
out of here.
Ginger, man, they're
gathering out there...
Aah!
Come on, Ginger!
They're animals
out there, man.
Easy, easy.
Easy, motherfucker.
Easy. Easy.
Ginger, let's fuckin' go!
You sorry-ass
motherfucker!
Easy.
I told your cracker ass!
You're dead!
Don't fucking
fire! Do not...
Goddamn it.
Lamar!
Ginger! Ginger!
Stop fuckin' around!
Fuck!
Fuck!
What the fuck!
Ginger!
I fuckin' knew it!
Aah!
Wish I could have done
this from the start,
you fucking moron!
Oh, fuck! What the fuck
are you doin', man?
Shut the fuck up.
Motherfucker!
Hey!
Get up.
Freeze. Who else
is in the house?
Nobody.
OK. Get in the bathroom.
In the bathroom.
Lay down.
Marty, OK.
I need you to meet me
at Amelia Street
between 18th and 19th
in 90 seconds.
You got it?
You got it?
Amelia!
18th and 19th!
90 seconds, motherfucker!
Ooh, one right there!
Aah!
Here comes
another one!
Aah!
Get your ass up!
Come on!
Aah!
Ginger.
You stupid mother...
The neighborhood...
Come on, man!
Police behind us, man!
Come on.
Keep going, man!
Come on! Hurry up, man!
Put the weapon down!
You motherfucker!
I'll get you!
You'll get yours,
fuckin' Crash,
you motherfucker.
You'll get... aah!
Come out with your hands raised!
Get down on your knees!
Quick, hide. Here.
Oh!
Oh, shit!
Hey!
Go!
Go.
Go, go, go!
What the fuck happened?
Remember that meth contact now?
You rat motherfucker!
You're gonna give me
the location for Ledoux,
I'm gonna let you slide, Ginger.
Bullshit.
What the fuck you think
I want with you, huh?
Oh, goddamn.
I am so done talking
to you like a man.
Go, go.
We have multiple gunshots.
217, multiple suspects...
¶
¶