Training Day

South Central Los Angeles.

You hear those words, and already,

there's a story coming together in your head.

Like when people talk about the Old West.

You see two gunfighters on a dusty street,

but no one thinks about how those fellas got there,

why they're about to pull the trigger,

who else might catch one when the bullets fly.

Only way to know the real story

is to put yourself in their boots.

I'm saying, though, Miss Kelly,

you can't just listen to all that soft-ass college rock.

First of all, watch your language, please,

around these kids.

Second of all, I can listen to whatever I want.

This is America.

You've got to at least listen to some Kendrick.

He's got that hood thing and that college vocabulary,

you know what I'm saying?

All right. I'll make you guys a deal.

I'll give Kendrick a try as long as you all promise

to come to one class this week at the Center, okay?

Learn some of that college vocabulary.

What?

Look, counselor, I know you're a busy man,

but we're dealing with a case

possibly related to Water Street,

so any light you may be able to shed would...

What was your name again, officer?

Detective... Craig.

Excuse me... Detective Craig.

Okay, here's a hypothetical, Detective Craig.

Say a cop walks into your office

and asks about a 10-year-old case...

a case in which your client was charged

with murdering a police officer

on the evidence of a planted firearm.

Allegedly planted.

That's the spirit.

Only, this detective shares the last name

with the arresting officer in said case...

Billy Craig.

Well, hypothetically, if I were the lawyer,

I would see it as an opportunity to find out the truth.

You're not here working a case related to Water Street, are you?

You're here as a son.

A son with, obviously, grave doubts about his father.

And my job isn't about the truth.

It's about representing my client... Delvon Lincoln.

Teflon.

He claimed he was in the employ of a dirty cop,

which is the reason... so he claimed...

that no charges against him ever stuck.

Hence, the name Teflon.

Okay, then, why shoot a cop?

Why bite the hand that feeds him?

Now, that is an excellent question.

Why would a drug dealer with a permanent "Get out of jail" card

want to shoot a police officer?

Seems to me Teflon made a hell of a fall guy.

That's not who my father was.

Do you have any idea why I'm comfortable

putting aside attorney/client privilege

to even talk to you about this matter?

Because there is no attorney/client privilege any longer.

It died with Teflon.

90 minutes after being remanded into Twin Towers,

43 stab wounds.

His mattress looked like a sponge.

Unsolved, of course.

Sounds like a hit.

I believe they call that "tying up a loose end."

Who did it?

On the inside?

I heard Mexican Mafia.

Mexican Mafia?

Why them? Who were they working for?

I have no idea, Detective Craig,

but I suspect that was the point.

There'd be nobody left to ask,

and there wasn't...

until you stepped into my office.

Welcome, detectives.

Today was not a good day.

All this for a drive-by?

The victims are two males, black...

apparently, West Compton Mob-affiliated...

and a girl... Kelly Price, not from the neighborhood.

Where from, then? What was she doing here?

Well, she worked here while she was getting her master's degree.

Raised in Baldwin Hills, went on to UCLA,

graduated summa cum laude.

She was outside on the steps talking to a group of kids,

when a car pulls up... one driver, one shooter.

No one got a good look at them.

Well, that explains the dog-and-pony show.

Take her out of the picture

and this never even makes the news.

The other two, you said West Compton Mob?

That's right. They've got gang cards on file.

Nothing major, but they're definitely banging.

West Compton Mob still feuding with the Avalon Royals?

Like the Hatfields and the McCoys.

Nice to know some things never change.

Shall we pay a visit, trainee?

In a second.

In moments like these,

I believe it's important to reflect on who we are.

What's up, guys? My name's Kyle.

You police?

I'm a detective.

You good police or bad police?

I try to be a good one.

Yeah, but you're not always.

I'm always trying.

Just like Kelly was always trying to be

the best teacher she could be, right?

How we want our children to see us... to see themselves.

You know the best way to be a good policeman?

I don't know.

Maybe try not to shoot so many black folks?

That... and talk to people.

Because at times like these, it's easy to lose your way.

You hear anyone talk about the shooting,

who they thought it was?

And resources to delivering justice.

I just threw up in my mouth.

Stirring oration, Deputy Chief Lockhart.

Cram it.

Joy. What you said meant a lot to all of us.

Frank, this is Todd Barber.

He sponsors this and many other community centers

around Los Angeles.

That's very generous.

Not really. I grew up with nothing.

Not in a neighborhood like this, but kids deserve a place to go.

Doesn't matter what neighborhood.

Detective Rourke is running point on this case.

I am?

I am.

I didn't know Kelly personally,

but I know what she meant to the people here.

The response from your department's been great.

You know, we have our own security team.

They'd be more than happy to pitch in

if you think they could help.

In fact...

Paul?

Detective Rourke, this is Paul DiNardo...

spent 20 years with the sheriff's department,

now my head of security.

I'll be straight with you, fellas... when I'm out hunting,

I don't like to catch scent

of anyone else stomping through the woods.

Know what I mean?

Not here to step on any toes, Detective.

Luckily, we're not dancing.

Gentlemen, Detective, Deputy Chief.

My mom says never talk to police...

about anything.

They'll twist you up and put a case on you.

I'm not here to twist you up.

I just want the men who did this... the bad guys.

You know who the Avalon Royals are, right?

You see them?

Were they in the car?

How about any of your friends?

Somebody saw something.

You're not a snitch. I respect that.

I'll see you around.

Ignore the first runner.

He's just holding the dope.

There's your shot caller.

- Five-0! - Yo, cops, man!

Should've worn your Nikes.

Don't!

You're probably used to shooting unarmed black men?

Not so easy knowing I'll shoot back.

Is that your big-yard stare, hardass?

It might scare the little old lady

at the corner store, but I'm not impressed.

You wouldn't last 15 minutes in Afghanistan.

You're all talk, rookie.

I don't fear the oppressors...

or their house slaves.

Take off that badge and gun.

I'll show you how we get down out here, boy.

Give it a rest. You're not gonna goad my partner into...

It's been a slow morning, anyway.

50 bucks on my trainee.

Got you covered on that one.

Whoo!

Man!

Your old man's smiling down from Heaven right now.

You want to cry police brutality now?

Yeah. I seen how you get down out here, homey.

Dope-slinging and drive-bys do not a revolution make.

How many brothers you put in the ground?

How many kids you orphan?

How many kids you have?