xXx

He stole the chip, he's inside.

I see him.

Kirill!

Time to work.

OPSEC 3, yellow.

OPSEC 4, orange.

OPSEC 5, red.

And at 0030 hours, the mission deviated from the set parameters.

It wasn't part of the plan for our agent to get shot in the back? That's reassuring.

Identity confirmed.

McGrath was uploading some data to us when he was killed.

Take a look at this. I'm not sure yet exactly what it is.

- A fragment of a complex molecule. - Gibbons.

Some of our analysts think it may be a link to a Soviet bio-weapon...

...called Silent Night.

- James, what the hell is he doing here? - I called him in.

We've lost three agents already. You could use the help.

I found out your agents were killed by this group, Anarchy 99.

They're ex-military. They can smell the training on our agents a mile away.

Sir, I think it's time we tried something new.

These guys aren't ours. Who are they? CIA?

No, civilians. Convicts, mercs, contract killers.

The best and brightest of the bottom of the barrel.

- They're the scum of the earth. - Programmable, expendable, they work.

I think it's our best shot.

Do we wanna drop another mouse in the snake pit?

Or do we wanna send our own snake and let him crawl in?

Come on, Pepe. This is unbelievable.

Hello!

Well, hello, it's about time. Now, listen...

Were you coming from Tijuana? I don't mean to be rude.

Keep it out of the sun. I don't want the paint to fade.

Do you understand English? I pay enough for you people.

Come on, Janelle. You're gonna love this place. It's tops.

- Dick, how are you? - This is Janelle.

- Call 911. - Who's driving my car?

Hotchkiss! Senator Hotchkiss! California state Senate!

Listen, somebody just stole my car!

You, in the red Corvette! Pull over immediately!

Yeah, yeah. These monkeys are following me because I just took this car.

Obviously the car doesn't belong to me, it's not my style.

It belongs to Dick, Dick Hotchkiss, a California state senator.

You remember Dick. He tried to ban rap music...

...because he feels the lyrics promote violence.

It's music, Dick!

He also wants to pull every video game off every shelf in the country...

...because he feels that the video games diminish the intelligence of our youth.

Come on, Dick.

It's the only education we got.

Dick, you're a bad man. You know what we do to bad men.

We punish them.

Dick, you've just entered the Xander zone.

Okay, I'm coming in hot with a side of bacon!

Go, go, go!

Pull it! Pull it!

Yes!

Go get the cameras! Go! Go! Go!

Moral is, don't be a dick, Dick!

You guys got the cameras? All right, let's go, let's go!

Peace out!

Outstanding.

Thank you.

- What's up? - You invited these people?

Of course not.

That's my dog! What's up?

Today was off the hook! You're psycho, bro!

Psycho? That was off the chain, man.

Yo, yo, yo. What is up with that crazy trick that we've been hearing about?

- My Superman seat-grab barrel roll? - Word.

I'm still working on it.

You're a hard guy to get ahold of, Xander.

You know, an athlete like you should really have his own video game.

Jordan King. I can make it happen.

- I'm gonna hold on to this for later. - You do that.

You know he'll never sell out. That's why he is who he is.

So you need to relax. Who invited you, anyway?

- Ex-- - Shut up.

Listen, this is for real. I can get us an advance on Internet presales.

So you need to just go to Pago Pago or something.

Get some girls, do them all. I don't care. Go on vacation.

It's Bora Bora, J. And I got enough girls here.

Since when did you care so much about money?

I just need you to lay low till the heat's off, okay?

I got an underground website to run. I got tapes to make.

And I can't do that with you in jail.

- Did you see that? - I don't care. Listen to me.

- I'm untouchable. - Whatever.

Move! Get out!

Get out!

You right there, move it! Come on!

Come on, let's go! Move, move!

Okay, okay, I'll turn down the music.

It was only a Corvette.

Let's go, baby. Your order is getting cold.

- More coffee? - Can you give me some hash browns?

- Sure. - Make them all sloppy. I like them runny.

- Okay. - Yeah, yeah.

How did I get here?

Two big guys dropped you off about 10 minutes ago. Told me to look after you.

Want some coffee? You look like you could use some.

You all right?

Fine.

I said, you got a problem, boy?

No. No problem.

- All right, nobody make a move! - Nobody move!

Just couldn't let him leave, could you? Keep your goddamned mouth shut!

Keep still or I'll make sure you stop breathing.

- Empty the goddamn register now! - Empty that register!

Get back!

Get back! Get back.

- Well done, Mr. Cage. - Who the hell are you?

The name's Gibbons. Augustus Gibbons.

You seem upset. Is there a problem?

- What is this place? - Looks like a diner.

That's clever.

You know, you almost had me going there for a while.

I was a bit groggy before, and then I started noticing things.

Like you got a stockbroker over here, all dressed up...

...reading the Financial Times on a Sunday when the market's closed.

Unlikely, but okay, I can go with that.

I could even go with the stick-up man packing a cop-issue Beretta.

But you wanna know where you blew it? With her.

My aunt was in the restaurant business all her life.

There's no way in hell a career waitress comes to work in high heels.

She'd have blisters the size of pancakes before lunch.

And if she ain't real, then this whole thing ain't real.

That's how I knew that this bozo over here wouldn't get a shot off...

...even if we waited till St. Patrick's Day.

Because there's nothing but blanks in these guns.

And no offense...

...but their performances were terrible.

- That's good. That's very good. - Okay.

It's your turn, pretty boy.

- What the hell is going on here? - It was a test, Mr. Cage, that you aced.

- He seems to have a poor attitude. - Excuse me?

- Should we throw him back? - Hell, no. I love his attitude.

Let's take this to the next level. Get on the Satcom.

Take what to the next level?

- Yo! Take what? - I want everybody out in 10 minutes.

I don't know who you think you're playing with. I don't play this game.

- Get Mike a doctor or he'll look like me. - I got a party to go to.

- Shut him up. - And don't forget to pay for my wind--

Why is it always the assholes who pass the tests?

You guys haven't been to any diners lately, huh?

Diner finalists.

- What, no coffee? - Oh, yeah.

- Here comes the ROTC. - Here we go.

Oh, yeah.

- Where's my peanuts? - All right.

Can you ask for the stewardess?

- Standing by to deploy drogue. - Roger.

Opening door, deploying drogue parachute.

- This is gonna hurt. - What the hell is this?

- Release drogue now. - Roger.

- This ain't right! None of this is right! - Bye.

I live for this shit!

Not bad!

Let's do that again.

Holy shit. This is Colombia.

Cocaine, man. They're coke plants.

No keys.

- What the hell are you doing? - You know what this shit's worth?

What now? Is this another test?

- Let's go across the river. Let's go! - Yeah, good idea. Good idea!

Guess you monkeys are just too good for me. I guess I failed this test.

You guys got something to drink?

Nice to see you again, fellas.

Yeah, you too.

Boy, they went all out on this one, huh?

You gotta be kidding.

Okay, funny guys.

I'll show you what we do with funny guys who get in our business.

What? Hog-tie us and force us to listen to your bad accent?

No.

We cut off their Achilles tendon and watch them flop around like a marionette.

Unless you have something to tell me, something I need to know, huh?

Okay. You're short.

My friend says you could use a haircut to update your style. Get off of me.

Shut up!

Hey, just two seconds ago you told us to talk. Now it's "shut up"?

I don't mean to nitpick, but you're the worst at this torture thing.

You slap me again, I'm gonna throw you a beating.

Boy, I hope they're paying you extra for this.

You know what, funny guy? Maybe I'll cut off your nose first, huh?

Funny guy.

What's funny is, this actually smells like real blood.

I hope you like it because it's the last thing you're gonna smell.

I'm hit! I'm hit! I'm hit!

Virg, give me a hand.

This is the Colombian army! Give up, you're surrounded!

Try to walk, T.J. T. J., try to walk.

Virg! Get out here!

To hell with this. Every man for himself.

I'm gonna get us some wheels.

Hang in there.

Good luck.

The guy on the bike, that's the drug lord!

Let's get him!

T.J.!

T.J.!