John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum

John wick, excommunicado.

In effect, 6:00 P.M., eastern standard time.

I do hope that Mr. wick finds his way to safety.

He knew the rules, he broke them.

He killed a man on company grounds, charon.

Do you expect him to make it out?

$14 million bounty on his head.

Every interested party in this city wants a piece of it.

I'd say the odds are about even.

You think the hospital's there to help, man?

No way!

They'll kill you just as soon as they'll make you better.

But I know better, man. I know better. I know what I'm...

Tick tock, Mr. wick. Tick tock.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick...

No time to dilly-dally, Mr. wick!

The New York public library.

You got it.

Change of plan.

To the continental.

Can you see that he's received by the concierge?

Yes, sir, Mr. wick.

Good dog. Good dog.

John wick, excommunicado. In effect, 20 minutes.

Can I help you?

Russian folktale. Alexander afanasyev.

1864.

- Level two. - Thank you.

"Consider your origins.

You were not made to live as brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge."

Dante.

Looking a little run down there, John.

Ernest. I still have time.

It's almost up. Who's gonna know the difference?

You sure this is what you wanna do?

Fourteen million. It's a lot of money.

Not if you can't spend it.

Oh, shit.

Push it back.

John wick, excommunicado. In effect, 10 minutes.

Let it be known the bowery will honor the excommunicado.

No help, no services of any kind.

Doc! Doc, it's wick!

Mr. wick.

No, no. You shouldn't be here. Hour's almost up.

I know, doc, please. There's still time.

No. I can't.

I still have five minutes.

Please.

Come on. Come on.

All right, sit there.

All right, let me see. Let me see.

Puncture wound.

Went deep. Nicked the artery.

Here you go.

All right.

John wick, excommunicado. In effect, one minute.

Doc?

Doc?

Yeah. We're halfway there.

- Five seconds. - Yeah.

In effect, in five, four...

Three, two...

One.

Sorry, Mr. wick.

I know. Rules.

Rules.

John wick, 14 million. Open contract is now in effect.

All services are suspended.

And away we go.

Top shelf. On the right. Yeah. Take four.

It will give you energy. Help with the pain.

Mr. wick?

They'll never believe I stopped on the hour.

But you did.

They'll know.

Know what?

I told you where the medicine was.

Where?

Here. Just below my floating rib. Be sure not to hit my...

Oh, wait!

One may not be enough.

Yeah. All right.

Be sure not to graze my...

Good luck, Mr. wick.

Thanks, doc.

John wick. Open contract. Increase, 15 million.

Where are you going, Jonathan?

We are closed.

Jardani.

Why have you come home?

You present this to me like an answer.

I still have my ticket.

After all the chaos you've caused for the last few weeks,

you think your ticket is valid?

You forget that the ruska roma is bound by the high table,

and the high table stands above all?

They could kill me just for talking to you.

You honor me by bringing death to my front door.

Oh, jardani, what has become of you?

You are bound...

And I am owed.

Rooney, enough!

"You are owed." You are owed nothing, jardani.

You know, when my pupils first come here, they wish for one thing.

A life free of suffering.

I try to dissuade them from these childish notions,

but as you know,

art is pain.

Life is suffering.

Somehow, you managed to get out.

But here you are, back where you began.

All of this, for what?

Pirouette.

Sit.

Even if I wanted to, I can't help you, jardani.

The high table wants your life.

How can you fight the wind?

How can you smash the mountains? How can you bury the ocean?

How can you escape from the light?

Of course, you can go to the dark. But they're in the dark, too.

So tell me, jardani, what do you really want?

Passage.

Where did you want to go?

Casablanca.

The path to paradise begins in hell.

So be it.

You hand me your ticket, I will tear it.

If that's what you really desire.

With this, jardani, your ticket is torn.

You can never come home again.

Take him to the lifeboat.

Do svidanya.

Do svidanya.

Welcome to the continental. How may I help you?

Sir. There is an adjudicator here to see you.

Very well, sir.

The manager is in the lounge.

If that's so, we can make this short.

I told him to walk away, he declined to do so.

And that's the all of it.

Mr. wick broke the rules.

Oh, yes.

And I haven't got the slightest idea where he is...

You're mistaken. I'm not here for Mr. wick.

I'm here because Mr. wick broke the rules in this hotel.

The blood was spilt on the grounds of the continental, was it not?

Oh, yes.

As a matter of fact, the body gets colder within these very walls.

I'd like to see it.

Santino d'Antonio.

A newly instated member of the high table,

slain by Mr. wick while seeking sanctuary in the continental.

With a .45 acp, it appears.

I had no control over Mr. wick's actions.

And yet, he lives because you deemed it so, yes?

Yes.

You have known Mr. wick for a great many years.

It might even be fair to call you friends, yes?

Instead of stopping him, instead of killing him,

you stood by and let him walk away

after he shot Santino d'Antonio in front of you.

I made him excommunicado.

But not before you gave him an hour to escape.

He broke the rules in my hotel.

This is exactly the problem: Your hotel. Where is your fealty?

I've been of service for over 40 years.

Under the table. Serving the table. Everything is under the table.

I understand that you have your loyalties, but this cannot be overlooked.

Let me be clear. I am here to adjudge you.

You have one week to get your affairs in order.

Excuse me”?

At such time, your successor will be named.

There are rules,

they are the only things that separate us...

From the animals.

Yes. You have seven days.

In the meantime, if you need any assistance with your transition,

you may look for me in room 217.

Enjoy your stay at the continental.

There's an adjudicator here to see you.

Welcome to my mission control.

Brain stem of my operation. The information super flyway.

From whence I control the word on the street,

the way of the world.

With pigeons.

Yes. You see rats with wings, but I see the Internet.

No ip addresses. No digital footprint.

Can't track it, can't hack it, can't trace it.

Can you get disease from it?

Well, I wouldn't recommend that you eat one.

What the hell do you want?

I wanted to see where it didn't happen.

Where what didn't happen?

Where you didn't kill John wick.

I've always been under the impression

that contracts and executing them was optional.

I have no problem with John wick.

And yet, you gave John a seven-round Kimber 1911,

knowing that he intended to use it to stand against the table. Yes?