Tin Star

Mrs. Worth has sustained a neurological injury to the temporal lobe,

caused by the entry of a foreign object into the brain.

How about in English, please?

A fragment of her skull came loose

when your son was shot.

H-His head, or a portion of it may have collided with his mother's.

Is she gonna be okay?

Don't leave me, love.

I don't know what'll happen to us if you leave me.

What the fuck do we do now?

Stop panicking.

- You said he never miss. - He doesn't.

The kid who never misses,

- that's what you said. - He never does. He never misses.

You said Whitey Brown. Sure shot, steady as steel.

Heat seeking dispenser of destiny.

The reaper. Remember that? The killer. The kid.

I did. And he doesn't... miss.

- Whatever... Ever, Frank? - Never.

He just did.

The fucker ducked. I warned you. He's a slippery bastard.

- Right, if the target won't stand still... - He's a coward. He's a coward.

- Right, that explains it then! - He's the one to blame.

He's the one who killed the fucking child.

We need to clear out of Canada.

- We can't. - Well, we've got to.

- No we gotta job to do. - Listen, fuck the job.

- Fuck the job? - Yeah.

Fuck you.

Now, we came here to kill him and we're gonna bloody well do it.

And if you don't like it, tough tits. I don't pay you to like it.

- You don't pay me at all. - Yeah, well, it's 'cos you owe me, Johnny.

Frank is right.

We stay here and finish what we started.

Well, fuck me...

He does talk.

Talks in clichés. But he does talk.

- We wait for another chance, isn't it? - Isn't it, isn't it, isn't it...

Hey, no one's asking you.

Yeah, well, no one asked you neither.

He's the one who fucked up the job!

I ain't fucked up nothing.

This is just the start.

Start of what, Whitey?

I need a shower.

- The guy's cracked. - Shut up, will you, Johnny!

So, what do we do now, eh? What do we do?

We go back to Little Big Bear,

we lie low till we get another shot.

- Us lot? - Yeah.

In that place?

Look at us, Frank!

I mean, how we gonna blend in here, hmm?

We're gonna stick out like cocks at a cunt fest.

We go to work.

I love this country.

Lived here all my life.

It's my home. And I'm proud to be a part of it.

My grandfather was from the old country,

came over on a steamer and set up near Big Bear.

Log shanty, horse and cart, hand dubbed water well.

He worked the woods and his friends worked with him.

Making a home, raising a family, building a future.

Guess you could call him a pioneer.

That was then, and times have changed.

I've got my own family now.

But I got a whole new bunch of friends.

And we'd like you to join us making our home.

Building a future.

Northstream Oil. Welcome to the new frontier.

Can I get you anything?

- What? - Xanax? Diazepam?

- Oh, no, thanks. Right. - If you change your mind.

Chief Worth?

Inspector Benoit Lehane, R.C.F.P.

How do you do?

I bring personal condolences

from the commissioner and the assistant commissioner.

I bring the sympathies of H section, Montreal

and of the entire Royal Canadian Federal Police.

Right and I bring some shitty coffee.

Thanks.

I want a constable parked outside this door.

Done.

And your daughter?

No, she's with me.

I know nothing I can say or do is gonna bring your boy back.

To that extent I'm a useless impingement on your grief.

But... I can tell you this.

- Justice will be done. - Right.

- What you doing here? - Chief, we're so sorry.

You closed the road?

The first thing you should have done was close the road.

No, Chief. We can't just close the road.

Not without the consent of the District...

- Shouldn't the Feds be handling this? - Oh, they are.

- They are? - Yeah, they are.

- Okay, so what should we be doing? - Closing the fucking road.

- Why? - So no one gets in or out.

I'm not manning a road block, we got a homicide to work.

I'm getting auxiliary volunteers.

It'll take an army reserve unit to stop Northstream Oil bringing guys in.

Just don't let anyone out.

Do they know who did this?

Local Police Service.

What?

They do not have the authority to close a road.

No, I mean, do they know who killed the boy?

No.

Now I can bus in workers from our side of the road closure

but I cannot get equipment through.

Monsieur Gagnon. A child has just been murdered.

I'm well aware of that. But the fact remains.

No truck, no equipment,

no refinery.

From the moment you step off of our courtesy shuttle,

your every need is cared for.

Fuck me.

You'll lodge in Northstream Oil's brand new Staff Village,

where it's easy to make yourself at home.

Award-winning cuisine from every corner of the globe.

And best of all?

You're doing a job you can be proud of.

I want to go home.

Home?

Yeah, to London.

Mum can't be moved yet, love.

I'm a parent. But I can't begin

to imagine what you are feeling.

If there's anything I can do, anything at all...

How is Mrs. Worth?

In a coma.

I heard her chances of full recovery were improved

by the new facilities at Little Big Bear Hospital.

Come again?

I hear her chances for a full recovery were improved

by the new facilities at Little Big Bear Hospital.

Oh, I get it.

Facilities' staff paid for by Northstream Oil.

"Because we care." Right?

- We do. - But you got a job to do

and you're here to make a deal.

I'm here...

to offer you our full support in the investigation of this...

You want the road open so you can finish your refinery.

That's not my priority.

We got off to a bad start.

Heated words were exchanged.

I'm here to extend an olive branch.

- Go on then. - A reward.

For information leading to the capture of the killers of your son.

Fuck off.

- I'm sorry you feel that way. - You should be.

No prints.

Hollow point bullet was shredded, so no match to a weapon.

No shells were found.

Striation on the sniper's bullet

in the window frame came back insufficient.

Feds are taking a look at the briefcase.

What do you know about...

Suzy Bouchard?

She did a lot for my community.

My father trusted her. I trusted her.

So, you think there could be something to this Northstream business?

The woman I knew, only spoke the truth.

You got anything for nerves?

- Xanax? - Mm.

Uh, top drawer, the left side.

Thanks.

- You two an item? - Us? No.

- Really? - No!

Why?

So, this conversation this is between us.

It stops with us.

I ducked.

When the gunman went to pull the trigger.

I didn't even think about it. I just... ducked.

And the bullet, it went over my head...

and into my son.

Ducking is a natural reflex.

But, if I hadn't done it,

he'd still be alive, right?

From ten feet?

Chances are you'd both be dead?

Chief.

Thanks.

If you wanna go to London, you can always stay with your auntie Jean?

I'm not going on my own.

We all go, or we all stay.

Well, if you stay, you stay within my sight 24/7, love.

- Peas in a pod. - Peas in a pod.

You wait here, all right, love?

I won't be long. Keep an eye on her. Don't let her out of your sight.

Copy that.

You've had enough.

- He's close. - Who is?

I've had enough of this.

Where do you think you're going?

We stay put. Finish what we started.

- Yeah. Stay put, yeah? Fuck you. - Keep calm.