Rogue

_

All right, Grindenko, we're good.

- Boys. - Hey.

What's up?

- Are you okay? - He's a real scumbag.

- What, he hit on you? - Would it matter if he did?

He had a couple of girls chained up down there.

Well... as long as his business is good.

He's good for it. You can't tell 'em from the real thing.

Headaches and highs. 40 bucks a pop.

You're looking at a 60% mark-up. Easy money.

There's no such thing.

Considering I'm doing all the work.

You're making an introduction.

- I want 15%. - Ten.

- This is my deal. - Don't get above yourself.

- I can take it elsewhere. - 12. Don't push it.

You're gonna be there, right? Tomorrow?

- I'll get you the money. - He only wants to deal with you.

I'll get you the money.

You wanna grab a bite to eat, Jack?

- Now? - Hm.

You wanna take me on a date, Jimmy?

No.

Well, maybe.

A little.

A little of a date? Either it is or it isn't.

- Don't laugh at me. - I'm not.

We grab a bite to eat, Jackie.

Talk business.

Two birds, one stone.

Always with the practicalities.

Yeah, well...

you know me.

Another time.

Hey, baby.

- Evie! - Go away!

Leave them alone!

Go away! Leave them alone!

Go away!

Hey... Sammy.

It's me.

You were having a bad dream. It's okay.

It's okay, sweetie.

Come on, let's get you changed.

Oh.

Come on, baby.

Grace?

- Hey, hey. - Hey.

Are you okay?

I just needed to come home.

- Hm. - He wet the bed again.

- Okay. Want me to change it? - I already did it.

- Oh. - That's good.

- So where's Jimmy? - He sent me.

- He's supposed to be here. - Well, he sent me.

Fuck!

Stop, shithead!

No!

Aaargh!

- Freeze! - I got her. It's okay.

- I got it. - Freeze!

You have the right to remain silent.

Get the fuck off me!

Aaargh.

It's okay. I got her.

What the fuck you doing here?

- What the fuck are you doing here? - You never answer your fucking phone!

It went off the reservation. We're pulling you out.

I don't have anything.

I don't fucking have anything!

It's Sam.

Is he okay?

He's okay, right?

Tell me he's okay.

Tell me he's okay!

_

Does this mean I get invited to the barbecues?

Sure. They'll be a lot of them.

We're very pleased with the arrangement.

- As are we. - Jimmy, Tony.

Looking forward to it, Ted.

- Hey, Jimmy. - Joe.

Hand off your cock.

- Hey, boss. - Boys.

We pulled it off.

You pulled it off, Jimmy.

This time tomorrow you'll be partner in a bank.

Ahhh.

I wish my old man was around to see this.

When you gonna tell the crew?

They're not gonna be a part of it.

They're not gonna like it, Jimmy.

Once it comes through...

I'm leaving all this shit behind.

That's two weeks... That's two weeks before.

_

Single shot, back of the head. Very efficient.

- We have an ID? - No, ma'am. Not yet.

Lieutenant, I hear you could use a hand.

Have we lifted these prints?

- Uh-huh. - Come on, you need me.

Expenses fraud. Concealing evidence.

Allegations.

Disciplinary Board didn't hold up a single one.

You're a liability, Wilson.

Tony Aldon.

The accountant of Jimmy Laszlo.

Technically speaking, not part of his crew,

which is why you got no surveillance on him.

Which is why you haven't ID'd him. Am I right?

I know we're all shaken up.

But we're gonna deal with this. We've pulled through worse.

Why Tony? He was a fucking accountant.

- I don't know. - Poor bastard.

The guy never stood a chance.

We're gonna find out who did this.

What have we got?

Karabas shut down two more chop shops on the East Side.

But... he's got his hands full.

- Doesn't sound like him. - It's the Clay Street boys.

Fucking Chinks have the city, and want the docks!

Put that fucking thing out! Charlie?

Alec's got a point.

Clay Street did hit that gook dope house over on Regent last week.

I don't buy it. Chinks know the cost of war.

- Doesn't explain why Tony. - Easy way to make a statement.

Look, I say we meet fire with fire.

I want something solid before we start anything.

Any escalation of this is gonna be bad for business.

God knows, that's in the tank already.

_

I thought you were still on leave.

- What are you doing? - Finding my son's killer.

Oh, I'm sorry. Is that your job?

Where is everyone?

I'm glad to see the case is still a priority.

Come on, it's not like that.

Remember Jerry Baker?

Carved up his brother Christmas Day, about ten years back?

Attacked me in court, remember?

He was out on parole two weeks before Sam was shot.

Baker was on community service at Alameda County Juvy home.

Staff have him working the day Sam was shot.

You second-guessing me the whole time doesn't help.

Come on, Mitch, we both know you haven't broken a case in years.

Stop torturing yourself.

What if Sam wasn't the target?

What if he was actually caught in the crossfire?

A stray bullet. An accident.

Just a tragic, senseless accident. It happens all the time.

What if you're just shitty at your job?

You don't find me the car. You don't find the gun.

Who was the target, then? Those young gang-bangers?

That your theory?

You didn't get this from me.

Who's that?

What are you... Are you crazy marching in here?

Open it.

The bullets they took out of Tony Aldon.

Home-made.

Same blend...

Same blend of metals they took out of my son.

Look...

This is the first lead in Sam's case. I want in.

It will take another detective a year

to catch up on what I know about Jimmy's operation.

You are done in Oakland, Grace.

Your loan-out's finished. Now go back to San Jose.

You think Jimmy's not gonna find Tony's killer before we do?

- The bullets aren't a match. - But they're home-made.

It's a start.

My legend's intact. Jimmy still trusts me.

Even if you knew that was true...

which you don't...

there is no way I am bringing you in on this thing.

Too damn close to it. Now go home.

- Finish your leave. - Come on, Lieutenant,

- you know I'm the only... - I said, go home.

Jackie? Where the fuck have you been?

Four months... That's all you gotta say to me?

- You cost me money. - I cost you?

That was my deal. It didn't cost you a fucking thing.

I lost out and I got felt up by some slimy fucking cop,

with hairy hands and a hard-on.

Yeah, and what happened to you? Nothing.

You sat here drinking your fucking wine,

looking down on the world.

- You didn't even show up. - Smart move as it turns out.

Yeah. God forbid you should sweat a little.

Four months. Where did you go?

Union had me down in Long Beach.

The yards were backed up.

Suited me just fine, lay low.

What, now you're back? Waltz right in here.

The way I see it you owe me.

The fucking balls on you!

You brought the fucking cops to my door.

What?

Well, they were watching somebody and sure shit it wasn't me!