Scarecrows

Hot and hazy weather, with temperatures reaching into the 90s,

is expected to continue throughout the weekend

over most of the Southland.

WORZ news time, 12:00. Good evening, I'm Don Herbert.

Tonight's lead story is the daring

and deadly paramilitary robbery at Camp Pendleton.

It left three marines dead and at least nine others critically wounded.

Earlier this evening, a heavily armed commando unit

held up the payroll office at the base

and fled with $3.5 million.

The robbers exchanged gunfire with military police

as they raced to a nearby airfield

and then escaped in a twin-engine cargo plane.

The pilot and his teenage daughter are believed to be held hostage

- on board the Baja Air... - Turn that bloody radio off.

...was hijacked...

It's okay, Daxie. It's okay.

Here, keep it under radar.

You heard the man.

An intensive manhunt is underway as marine helicopter units

track down the stolen craft which was reported heading south,

presumably towards the border.

All right, I'll take care of it.

Hey, Roxanne.

- Where's the fire? - Back here.

- Hey, somebody... - Bert's taking the money!

Stop shooting, Curry. He tossed a grenade.

Fuck, it's somewhere in here. I'll kill him.

- Where is it? - Pull up! Pull up, we're too low!

Hold on.

- The grenade. - Watch out, it's rolling back.

Jack!

Jack!

Throw it out!

- The money? - The money is gone.

Get ready to jump, we're going after him.

- Where's the money? - It's gone!

What happened to Bert?

He bailed with the money, dumb ass.

I saw a house back there where he jumped.

- We'll be back, Bert. - Yeah.

We'll be back, Bert.

The plane? Where's the...

Wait, my grenade exploded. I heard it.

All right, all right, put it together.

The money. I was right behind it.

Then it dropped by these crosses, like a graveyard.

Jesus, a scarecrow.

Bloody scarecrow.

I'll be damned, the graveyard.

The money's got to be there.

All right, the house.

There's gotta be a car or a jeep or something there I can use.

Where the bloody hell...

Bingo!

My lucky night.

Bingo, my lucky night.

What the hell is down there, Corbin?

Trees and bushes.

Great, let's find that house again.

That's where he'll go, the simple fuck.

I spotted it.

Closing 11 o'clock.

It's the house all right, looks pretty dead.

Over there.

Hey, Bert, old buddy. Reading me?

That's right, you no-good, double-crossing, scum-sucking son of a bitch.

We are alive.

Damn it, I can't believe it.

- Jack, what's wrong? - I dropped my harmonica.

You can blow Bert's balls off. Come on, let's find him.

All right, Bert. Now it's personal.

- Bang. - I'm dead.

By the way, Bert, buddy, we owe you a live grenade, pal.

We'll nail you up like one of these scarecrows.

Then we're gonna burn you, Bert, just like you burned us, motherfucker.

- Hold it, I saw a light. - Where?

By the house, a car, maybe.

You're crow shit, Bert.

God to Bert, your birthday's been canceled.

Hey, Corb, hope you didn't forget your buffalo gun.

- She's right here. - That's too cruel, man.

That's the gun with the exploding shells.

And, Bert, this ammo is blessed.

So, when I blow your ass away, buddy, every piece of you is going straight to hell.

Over there, the lights, they're moving.

Where?

- Come in. - It's a truck.

Southeast of you. It's gotta be Bert. Move.

The cornfield. He's going after the money.

Rox, your transmission's breaking up.

Curry, Jack, come in. Where are you?

Damn it. We're out of range.

Hey, Bert, you dumb fuck, there's only one road and we're on it.

This isn't exactly Route 66, is it?

Here, hold this, will you?

It says keep out.

Will you just hold this?

Come on out here, Bert, you son of a bitch.

I'm gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you on a stick.

- Give me that. - Here.

- What's in there? - The Playboy Mansion.

- That's it? - Scarecrows.

Scarecrows.

- Jack, Curry, come in. - We're here.

Bert's heading for the gate. Are you guys on that road?

- Yeah. - Well, stay on it.

He's gonna have to come through you guys.

Here.

Coming to get you, Bert, you son of a bitch.

Good job.

Come on, Jack. Heaven can't wait for you.

Heaven?

Graveyard has gotta be on this road.

There. There it is.

Can't you fly this crate any faster?

I'm in full throttle.

He picked up the money. He's getting away.

You're pathetic.

Should I splatter your face around the cockpit or what?

There he is. Swing around and get him.

Swing around again.

He's headed your way, guys.

- Which way is that? - Behind us or in front of us?

Stupid assholes.

Damn, he's turning off the road.

I'm coming down.

Look for a place to land.

This terrain's for shit. We can't land down here.

We're landing.

- You'll never make it. Never! - Kellie, stay out of this.

You know, Bert, we were kind of hoping you were coming down that road

to give us back our money and straighten things out,

but you let us down again.

Now you've gone too far, dirtball.

Yeah, Bert, I think I'm gonna have to cut you out of my will.

God damn, now what?

The tank's full.

The fucking thing's flooded.

What the...

No engine? Wait a minute.

This is impossible.

What is this?

Some kind of fucking joke?

Listen up, guys. Bert's stopped the truck. I can't tell what he's up to.

But he's on foot now, about a half mile west of the house.

We're almost there. I can smell him, he's toast.

No, take him alive. The first bullet through his head is mine.

We're landing this sucker right now.

There's a field at 4 o'clock.

It may be long enough.

So, how's it feel, Bert?

I mean, it must be awful frustrating

to have to die with all that money in your hands.

Yeah, real frustrating.

That money must be getting awful heavy.

$3.5 million is a lot of bread for one guy.

It ain't right to be so greedy.

All right, asshole, just hold it right there.

- You see him? - Shut up.

Oh, yeah, yeah. There he is.

Hey, Bert, we're gonna hang you up like one of these scarecrows

and stuff you full of crow shit.

Hey, Corbin, start bagging some crow turds.

He didn't hear you, man. He's into his jungles and Rambo bullshit.

With his radio turned off, right?

Whoa, there he is again. I got him on my scope. Don't move.

Stand still, Bert.

Just one second, it'll all be over.

Turn around, Bert. I wanna shoot you in the back.

Over here.

Where is he?

He's coming toward us.

Keep coming, Bert. You're heading right for me.

I don't even have to move.

Over here, Bert, towards your left.

- Pretty lousy shooting. - Bert's aim always sucked.

Everything he did sucked.

Now we're both right behind you, asshole.

We got you covered, Bert, from behind these scarecrows.

Put the gun down. You're not going to hurt us.

Curry?

Jack?

Curry? Jack?

Look, you want the money? Take it.

Curry!

Jack! Take the money.

Please, don't kill me.

Who's he talking to, Curry?

Curry? Jack?

Look, take it.

We don't want your money. We want your blood, Bert.

Do you want me to run? Well, I'm not going to, see?

Running's over, Bert. It's time to bleed.

Like those MPs with their guts spilling on the runway.

Time to bleed, Bert.

Look, I'm not even carrying a weapon.

Start praying, Bert.

Look, you want the money?

Well, you can't have it 'cause I've hid it.