Cohen and Tate

Come on. Come on, Biggy.

Bring it back, Biggy. Come on, Biggy.

Come on. Come on, boy.

Wanna play? Wanna play? Go on!

Go on, boy! Go on, there you go!

There you go!

Go on. Wanna play ball? Wanna play ball?

Go on.

Good boy.

- Hiya, champ. - Hi, Dad.

- How you doin'? - Oh, I'm okay.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

All right.

Whoa...

Fire it in here.

- Attaboy! - Sorry, Dad.

Dad...

How long do we have to stay here?

- Oh, for a while. - Really?

Really.

- Dad... - Yeah?

When can we ever go back to Texas?

We can't ever go back to Texas, son.

Come here.

It's gonna be all right, Travis.

- Everything's gonna be all right. - Okay.

- You don't have a football, do you? - No. My friend does.

- Maybe we'll get you one for Christmas. - All right!

Then I can learn how to play football.

Got some place to go, George?

Oh, no. No, Mr Knight.

Why would you say that?

I saw you looking at your watch.

Oh, well, um...

- It's not running right, that's all. - Hm.

Let's go, son.

- I'm going to call my attorney. - Go ahead.

Hello?

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

Line's dead on me!

Honey...

- Yeah. - Where's George gone?

What are you talking about?

Why, he just took the car.

What's wrong?

Nothing's wrong. Is there, Martha?

No, Travis. Nothing's wrong.

- Storm cellar? - Kitchen.

Kitchen...

Travis, help your mother set the table?

- What's going on? - Come on, Travis.

Relax.

Yeah, right.

We thank you, Father...

for what we are about to receive.

'We thank you, Oh, Lord...

'for another day spent together as a family...'

You have blessed us, oh, Lord, with your gracious...

- Biggy! - Travis!

Stop!

My kid just went out there!

You can't go outside right now. It isn't safe.

Fred's outside. He'll look after Travis.

I have to insist you stay in this room.

Please, sit down, sir.

Biggy!

Please, ma'am, move away from the window.

Got a light?

- Travis! - Knight!

Oh, no!

Please...

Please...

Please...

Where's your phone, ma'am?

On the wall...

It's done.

Yeah, done.

Almost...

Dad...?

Mom...?

- How far we gotta go? - The rest of the way.

- You really answered my question... - Good. Then shut up.

Hey, Mr Cohen, I gotta ask you something.

You've asked me something every two minutes, since we got in the car.

How come you've being giving me shit from the minute we left Houston?

Because I don't like you.

Fuck...

We gotta take a long drive together.

Least you could do is try a little human friendliness.

You gonna shut up now?

Hey, Mr Cohen, did I do the job or what?

You're a stupid, sloppy hothead. You used six cartridges on the woman

and the FBI, when two would've done it, just because you like the sight of blood.

You're a half-ass... who's got no business working with me.

You going to shut up now?

What the hell'd you do the job with me for?

Because they put you on with me. I didn't have any choice.

Thirty years I work alone.

Thirty years I always do the job, and then, this week they give me this job

and tell me I gotta put on a second gun.

At my age you don't make a remark.

In this business, they don't retire you to Florida.

They don't give you any social security and you don't get a gold watch.

What you do get, one day, when you're not looking,

is a brief pain in the back of your head

and a quick glimpse of your brains flying out,

before they scrape you up off the sidewalk.

You think they don't think you can hack it anymore, huh?

You want to say that again?

Forget it.

I think our young friend is awake, back there.

- You killed Mom and Dad? - I'm afraid so.

Are you going to kill me too?

We're taking you back to some people in Houston, who want to talk to you.

Those people in Houston. Are they gonna kill me?

They wanna talk to you.

Are they going to kill me?

Probably, yes.

Well...

then I'm not going to let you take me back.

Hey, kid. See my fist here?

If I was to punch you in the nose, I could break the cartilage

and drive it up into your brain. I could kill you just by punching you in the nose.

Settle down. We got a long ways to drive.

Three hundred and fifty-five miles exactly.

I love watching bugs go splat on the windshield.

Must be wild being an insect. You're buzzing along

and all of a sudden this big piece of glass hits you

at a million miles an hour.

- Did you just think of that? - Yeah.

- Just right now? - Yes, I did. Just come to me.

You've got shit for brains, Tate.

The police'll catch you.

No, they won't.

You want me to shut him up? Let me just pop him one...

- That will not be necessary. - Just a little concussion.

We're being paid to deliver this kid back in one piece.

- That means no marks on him. - I won't leave any marks.

Just... drive.

You're driving too fast, Mr Tate.

This ain't fast, Mr Cohen. You wanna see fast?

No. I wanna see slow.

Yes, Mr Cohen.

Yeah. Fuck, that felt good, man. Must've been a dog or something.

Hey, that's the third animal you've hit since we left Houston.

I know. I'm on a roll tonight.

I love that sound when they go under the wheels.

It kinda goes boom-boom, ki-ki, crunch...

One-ton car's worth of steel-belted radials

hits them and... boom! They're flat as a pancake.

Watch the truck. Watch the truck!

Can I have a cigarette?

- I want to see what's on the radio. - See what's on the radio.

It's all right with you?

- It's all right with... - Sure it's all right with you? I just...

I said...

Okay. I'm going to turn it on.

- It's not going to turn itself on. - Here goes.

'Police on the scene of the brutal slayings

'have reported three dead, one wounded...

- Wounded? - '...two unaccounted for.

'Police have not released details, but unconfirmed reports indicate

'the victims were a husband, wife, and their son,

'along with two FBI agents.

'The child is reported missing and is presumed to have been kidnapped.

'The woman was pronounced dead on the scene by medical authorities.

- '...The man is alive... - Dad!

- Shut up! - '...and in a critical condition,

- He'll get you! - Shut up, boy!

- Shut up! - 'More on this story as it...

- Dad! - Shut your face up, kid!

Shut up. Slow down.

Slow down, Tate. Don't push the engine like that!

Slow down.

- We blew the job. - Slow down.

Pull in. Pull in over there.

Shit...

How? How, fucking how?

- We gotta waste him. - Who?

The kid.

- Him? - Yeah. I'll blow his brains out right here.

What, are you crazy?

He's half the reason we came here.

Mr Cohen, we've got to make a run for it. Can't have no stinkin' kid with us.

I'll just blast him right here and we'll be done with him.

Make a run for it. That's all we...

You listen to me, Tate.

We're being paid to do a job.

To take this kid back to Houston.

That means all the way back.

We're gonna finish the job.

Is that understood?

Yes, Mr Cohen.

Give me the keys.

You don't use a seatbelt?

The hell with that.

Hey! Hey!

Fuck!

Get him!