Human Target

Previously on Human Target...

Good afternoon.

I think, with your friends' welfare on the line,

you give me exactly what I want.

Winston?

You know what to do, right?

Gonna get him back.

Well, Mr. Winston...

You look very presentable.

I am sorry... That it had to come to this.

What you had to go through these last 48 hours

in order to tell me the truth...

I just can't help but think

how much better your life would have turned out

if you'd never met Christopher Chance.

Enough chitchat.

Let's go get my book.

Next.

How can I help you, sir?

Morning...Denise.

I'd like to make a withdrawal.

Certainly. I can help you with that.

How much? Uh...Everything.

I'd like to close my account.

Sorry to hear that. May I ask why?

Well, I'm gonna be leaving town

for a little while.

Relax. I'm one of the good guys.

Chance, they're comin' out.

Denise, would you be a doll

and reach under the counter and trip the alarm, please?

What's up, bro?

Can't let him get to the door.

This could get messy.

Denise, I'm not gonna shoot you.

Just reach under the counter and trip the alarm, please.

What happened? Where's the sound?

It's a silent alarm. You're kidding me.

Well, now that you got what you came for,

answer me one question.

What the hell is in that book?

Secrets, Mr. Winston,

things the world does not need to know.

Come on, dude. It's now or never.

Stay down!

What the hell's going on?

These guys are trying to rob the place.

Keep them covered.

Mr. Chance!

I was expecting you.

Don't do anything stupid.

Just wanna show you something.

So...

You're gonna put your guns down.

And we're gonna walk outta here with my book.

Or you'll be picking up pieces of him for weeks to come.

Winston...

I'm sorry for getting you into this mess.

Sorry for whatever torture

you had to endure because of me.

Most of all...

I'm sorry about Aunt Suzy.

Aunt Suzy?

Oh, man... Not aunt Suzy.

You got him? Yep.

Aah!

Drop your weapons!

Put 'em on the floor!

Down. Put 'em down!

Ehh!

Stop, dude!

Drop 'em!

Smart.

You gotta get this thing off me, man.

I don't wanna die.

You know how to diffuse it?

No.

Either way, this is good-bye.

What?

You ready?

I'm ready.

Chance.

Chance!

We gotta get out of here.

Wait! Where's Chance?

That's it for Chance, bro.

What are you talking about?

What do you mean? He's gone.

Dude got too attached.

That's the last you're ever gonna see of Chance.

Come on. Come on.

Come on, Winston. Let's get outta here.

Left you too, huh?

You boys looking for protection?

We're looking for Christopher Chance.

Gone.

When will he be back?

Well, that's a good question.

I work for a single employer, a person of great means,

who is in need of Mr. Chance's rather...

Specific services.

Any idea where I might find him?

I don't think you're gettin' it.

You see, when I say he's gone,

I don't mean he's down in Florida taking some R&R

shacked up with a lady friend somewhere.

I mean gone. Forever.

Might as well be dead.

You could search the end of the earth,

and you wouldn't find him.

Got that?

My employer's very persistent.

Thank you.

We'll be sure to check the end of the earth.

Wiseass.

Wow.

I'll give it to you, Mr. Chance.

When you say you want to disappear,

you really commit.

It's taken me six months,

an embarrassing amount of money,

and more time in a helicopter

than I ever dreamed my ass would spend.

So I have one thing to say to you.

You'd better be worth it.

While I appreciate the time, the money,

and the discomfort of what must have been

a very bumpy helicopter ride,

I have to tell you that I'm out of the protection game.

- I'm retired. - Yes, so I've been told.

It's a 30-hour flight home.

Albeit on a private plane.

All I'm asking

is a few minutes.

You get two minutes.

Eight months ago,

my husband was killed in a plane crash,

and I believe he was murdered.

My husband's name was Marshall Pucci.

You've heard of him.

Software billionaire. Philanthropist.

Runs the world's largest charity.

I haven't always lived in an ashram.

Well, along with his fortune,

I've also inherited his enemies.

Mrs. Pucci, I'm sure your husband was a good man,

but if you'd done your research,

you'd know that I'm...Not.

Well, I know that Christopher Chance

isn't your real name.

I know that you used to be an assassin,

and I also know that you're the person

people come to as a last resort.

Charming as Nepal is,

I wouldn't be here if I had any other choice.

You have other choices.

There's a variety of other people you could have hired.

Yes, I have. All of them.

Now I can't leave the house without 20 bodyguards.

The windows in my home are sealed shut

with bulletproof glass-- I don't want to live like that.

I want someone who's going to put me in the line of fire...

Risk my life so that I can have it back.

Right. I don't know how you found me here

or who you spoke to--

I'm actually kind of curious about that--

but you should know the people who go into business with me

have a tendency to get shot at, tortured,

or...worse.

I'm not afraid.

That's what they all say.

I'm not like your other clients.

Your two minutes are up.

I can't imagine what brings a man like you to an ashram.

But I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.

Thank you for your time.

You know, I thought you'd be different.

- Taller? - No.

- Younger? - No. Braver.

Mrs. Pucci.

Did you say private plane?

Mrs. Pucci,

this is Laverne Winston.

His former partner before he went on vacation.

Pleasure.

I apologize for the condition of our office, Mrs. Pucci.

We recently had a break-in-- it's been six months.

You haven't replaced the windows yet?

You have to excuse my partner.

He doesn't really comprehend

the basic principles of business.

You see, when the asset just runs off to an ashram,

well, then there are no clients

and therefore no revenue,

and thus, no windows.

Except now you do have a client.

Yes, of course. So Mrs. Pucci,

tell us, why do you think someone's trying to kill you?

I was in Geneva on my way to Africa

when my husband called at the last moment