7 Seconds

What?

Why are you a thief, Jack?

Diplomatic corps wouldn't take me.

Besides, I like to think that I'm doing my part...

for international relations.

You've been here six months, Tuliver.

All you want to do is joke and play.

Americans, never a straight answer.

Military taught me three things:

how to kill, how to steal...

and never surrender information.

I wasn't much on the killing part. But I'm willing to try again.

If you know what I mean.

For my country, of course.

You can do so much with your life.

I am doing something.

- We are doing something. - Well, we can do some more.

No.

Come back here, Suza.

Get dressed.

Don't be late for work.

I hate work.

She was a mature woman.

Mature women run at Spanky.

Did you wear your "Don't fuck me, I'm a queer" T-shirt?

She was crazy begging for it.

Begging me to give it to her, Spanky-style.

The last woman to beg you to do anything was your mama...

and that was to clean up your room.

I was sporting it fresh, mate.

Pimp daddy. Eastern Bloc loves Western cock.

- Know what I mean? - Oh, you know what I mean?

- You sure that thing's gonna work? - T!

- And the detonators? - Everything's cool.

Just like the plan, T-man.

Three trucks.

Three locations.

Go!

Kill the engine.

Let's move.

Do it. Go!

We've been hit.

One prize depot.

Sectors 3 and 5...

Christ.

...Code 14 alert.

Shit.

- Three signals. - Three trucks.

Twenty casinos unloading all at the same time.

Gentlemen, we are about to be $20 million richer.

Get out of the truck! Get your ass out. Down on the ground!

Get on the ground!

Get your ass out of there! Lay down!

Move it!

I sure hope you have big pockets.

Call the police.

'Cause that's $3 million apiece.

- On the ground, stay down! - Don't shoot.

- Open the back! - I can't.

Open the back or I'll open your head!

- I can't. It's on timer. - Manual open it.

No, it's on timer. It only opens at the location or the depot.

You blew the electrics. I can't open it.

Seven seconds.

Where did you find those timers? Pull out.

Team One, out.

- Out! Back to the van! - Pull out!

Team Two, talk to me. Pull out.

- Move your ass. - Get in!

Move your ass, Charlie.

Yes, who is this? Yes, Capt. Szabo.

Yes, we do. Well, they must have our routes.

I'm pulling all the trucks back to the main depot.

Can we get police escorts?

- How many trucks? - Fourteen.

Pull them all back on high alert.

You catch these bastards, Captain.

All trucks, Code 86.

Return immediately to the depot.

Problem. We're turning around, back to the depot.

- Why? - We're all being pulled back.

Police escort is on its way.

Hello, Cristina.

Okay, gentlemen, we have a situation.

Please take that to the vault and lock up your shotguns. Thank you.

We don't work for Vanderbrink. No overtime for us.

And our case is for Mr. Bostnescu in Bucharest.

- Vanderbrink policy... - Change of policy, Barney.

Get us a driver.

And get us and this case to our location. Right now.

- Touchy. - Touchy assholes.

- Sorry, Mr. Vanderbrink. - No, that's fine.

What's going on?

You better go to the briefing room, Cristina. No phones.

Thirteen.

Okay, everyone in the truck.

Here we go again.

One more time!

Come on, move it out, people. Move it out.

How's the foot, Bull?

Were you raised by hamsters or something?

Crazy hamsters, Bull.

We got eight minutes till the final crew arrives.

And most likely the Bucharest Police Department...

and about 3,000 NATO troops stationed at various bases around this city.

So, be quick, be quiet, be clean.

Oh, yeah, another thing.

Last person on the beach can kiss my sandy ass.

Sync. Let's go.

Oh, shit.

Hey, let's play a game.

Get on the floor! Get on the fucking floor!

Go!

Everything's secure and everyone's accounted for?

Last truck is at the gates now.

Everything's in the vault. Except for the two posers in Truck Four.

Will you go and talk to them? I'll debrief the crew.

- Go! - Three minutes and counting.

Should read your classics, man.

Everything's here. Come and get it.

Bring them in.

Vanderbrink Securities came to Romania to do business.

Your decisive actions this morning...

has kept Vanderbrink the most secure transport in the world.

Unfortunately...

a police captain is on his way to interview each and every one of you.

But just, please, be as honest with him as you can be.

Where's Cristina?

Cristina Grigore?

- Jack. - Nice job.

One minute!

Anyone got a cellphone?

Sorry, Mr. Vanderbrink.

No. Of course not.

That's it.

Ready?

- Shall I drive? - Men.

Two pros. One of them had a case tied to his arm.

It must be something big.

- He wouldn't let go. - How big?

Oh, shit.

An ArmorLite.

Couldn't put a bullet through this. Practically impossible to open.

One-time keypad, custom job, very hi-tech.

Nice. This case is smoking up, baby!

Happy birthday.

Get the bags. Let's move it.

Sir, I had to call in a NATO bomb squad.

No, sir, not yet.

- Captain. - Not now.

- But, Captain... - Hold on, Commissioner.

I'm...

What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?

I love the smell of Fart Putty in the morning.

My kids have some. Drive me nuts with it all day.

Get me Vanderbrink.

- No answer. - Get someone over there, now!

Whoa, what?

What's the matter?

Why'd you stop, Charlie?

- Why'd you stop driving? - Charlie who?

Jack!

Bang, bang, bang!

No, Bull!

Give us the case, Tuliver, or you won't live!

Jack!

- Kill him. - Jack!

Don't shoot the case.

Go!

Explain this one to me.

How was the suspect driving in your car, holding your gun, Sgt. Anders?

I was buying coffee.

English?

- That bad? - Not that bad.

Police?

Military police. Weekend pass from the base.

In Costanza?

I thought it was an American base.

It's a NATO base, so it's mostly Americans.

Some Brits. Not too many French.

Shit.

Stay down. Stay inside. Call the police.

Drop the case, Tuliver.

You, stay!

Shoot him!

Police. Drop it!

- Armed robbery in progress. - Get the case.

- Vanderbrink Security. - Get the case.

All units to Pietra Romano.

Suspect armed and dangerous.

Car. Yeah, car.

- No. - Yeah.

- Look, I need a ride. - Shit.

Throw the case in the car.

- Jeez! - Hold on!

Crap.

- You may have a death wish. I don't. - That's good, Private.

You just stay like you are, we'll get along just fine.

That's Sgt. Anders, shitbag.

You'll be meeting the rest of the army real soon.