Exit Protocol

60% of all professional killers

grow a conscience as mid-life approaches,

but in my line of work,

there's no such thing as a retirement plan.

Instead, you get me.

Turn around. Put your weapon down.

I got a deal for you. You walk away, you live.

Hold up.

Let's go back a bit, see how we got here.

My mark is an assassin who disappeared on the job

a few years ago.

He's been a tough one to find.

Turns out he's now an art dealer for exclusive--

Let's just say not exactly legal pieces.

Because of that, he only takes meetings

from referrals he trusts.

And it just so happens the dirt bag I'm gonna see

now is a direct line to him.

Now I don't usually involve civilians

or anyone outside my target,

but this guy, he's a grade A piece of shit.

He sells women, drugs, guns,

even kids to the ultra-wealthy.

I'm gonna be doin' the world a favor.

My job is to find and eliminate

retired assets.

I don't care how long it takes, I will finish the job.

I kill the best of the best.

I'm an assassin of assassins, a killer of killers.

I didn't just fall into this profession

like so many others,

I was an orphan of circumstance.

I chose to hunt down the most dangerous people on the planet,

and make it my life's work,

and I take great pride in what I do.

Good morning, I'm Mr. Anthony.

Beautiful home.

Yes, it is. It's my retirement home.

You're retired?

I am. I am. Um, but it didn't suit me well.

I understand that.

I don't think I could ever retire.

Well...

Would you like to sit?

Thank you.

So tell me exactly what you're looking for.

A Rembrandt.

A Rembrandt.

I think I have two of those.

I'm not looking for just any Rembrandt.

There's one in particular.

You know which one?

Sea of Galilee.

You might as well be looking for Christ.

Everybody's looking for that one.

No one's found it.

Yeah. But I think I just did.

You're not who I thought you were.

No, I'm not.

How'd you find me?

It wasn't as hard as you think.

But why, after five years,

you come looking for me after all this time?

The way I see it, we're both professionals.

Or you were.

Consider this a courtesy.

If I was ever in your position, I'd want the same thing.

Don't you ever get tired of this job?

No.

But I'm not you,

and all those things that you've done.

That's why I'm here.

Hmm.

You younger breed,

you know nothing, you never have an exit strategy.

Too many video games.

And you older breed,

you know nothing about technology.

Yes.

400 fuckin' thousand dollars to win.

If I wanted across the board, I'd have fuckin' said it!

All of it, to win!

You bet on Bing Bong Bing?

Gambling isn't exactly advisable in my line of work.

Well, suit yourself.

But I've got a feelin' this long shot's

gonna come through.

I bet on a sure thing.

I assume you received your instructions okay.

I did.

I'll take care of the accommodations myself.

I'll be in touch.

Mr. Hayden, when I put my money down on anything,

it's never a gamble.

I bet on a sure thing.

Augustus is a smug prick,

but he's also my boss.

He runs what we call the "organization".

It's a loose net of wealthy gangsters

who control a vast network of assassins for hire.

I'm an assassin, but I only kill wolves

to protect the sheep.

Every assignment has its pros and cons.

The pros of this one,

the target's hiding out right on my doorstep

and I get to make a long overdue trip home.

The cons? This motherfucker.

Charles Managold.

Now, I don't get nervous or intimidated

by any target because, well, I'm the best.

But if I did, Managold would do it.

A born killer who won't let anything

or anyone stand in his way.

He doesn't care who or where.

If he accepts the contract, someone's gonna die.

Now he's my contract.

How the hell did this happen?

Fuckin' tracker.

Really, Augustus?

Prick.

Mine is a nomadic existence,

and that suits me just fine,

or else I'm in the wrong line of work.

In this business, you don't have friends.

You don't have relationships, because they'll find out

and that's what gets you killed.

You can't have any weaknesses.

Weaknesses are exploited.

But everyone needs a place to call home,

somewhere completely off the grid

where they'll never find you.

Somewhere that feels like a breath of fresh air.

Somewhere to feel safe.

Finally.

Hi.

Welcome home.

It's good to be home. I missed you.

Hmm.

Mm, you get a shower before you get any of this.

You're gonna be the death of me.

If you're lucky.

You see who it is?

Yeah, just another cliché.

An assassin who grew a conscience.

That's Charles Managold.

Yeah.

He's a legend.

They all are.

Chuparosa?

Everyone's heard of Chuparosa.

Range, 1,900 yards.

Velocity, 2,008 feet per second.

Bullet drop, wind speed, curvature of the earth...

...all factored in.

Bullets don't fly straight.

It's a common misconception, especially at that range.

They come right down on your head.

And by doing so, he killed an innocent woman

in the process.

Went through her to hit his mark.

Charles Managold would've killed his own mother

if that meant completin' a job.

First off, goin' through an innocent woman

to hit his mark is a hell of a shot.

Second, things change.

God knows what would make a sick fuck like that

not follow through.

He's ruthless, Sam.

I think you of all people know how ruthless I can be, Nona.

Besides, I think if I didn't know any better,

you're kinda worried about me.

You should try bein' afraid more often, you know?

Nah.

You never could refuse me, Sam.

I'm the ring that's missin' in your chain mail armor.

Your one weak spot.

I don't have a weak spot, Nona.

Hmm.

But if I did, I think you'd be it.

Walk away.

I'm gonna have to take you to Colombia.

Walk away.

Don't you ever get tired?

It's a small world of assassins,

and among the best of us is a mutual respect.

We may even share a drink or two when we cross paths

out on assignment,

but business is business.

If I'm there for you, you'll know.

Every killer I've ever killed thought they were elite.

They all thought no one could touch them

until I showed up.

There's a reason I get the contract

from the organization.

Once you sign on, there is a very

specific protocol for getting out.

And that protocol is me. I am the exit protocol.

And if you're my contract, I will retire you.

This Managold, despite his reputation,

shouldn't have been any different,