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Lethal Weapon 1987

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I deliver perfection...|and don't brag about it! :D
Happy birthday, Daddy!
Make a wish!
I wish...|I'm not going to tell you.
Come on, blow them out!
Give me some sugar, girl.
One more candle and the smoke alarm|would've gone off.
The big 5-0.
You know, your beard's getting gray.|Kind of makes you look old.
It's all right. I still love you.
Bye, Pa.
Good morning!
- Where's Rianne?|- She's upstairs.
Good morning.
- That's my bacon!|- It's mine now.
Don't you close doors around here?
Baby, what's this on my tie?
That is an ugly spot.
Thanks. Sharp as a tack.
I'm thinking of going on "Jeopardy".
Just don't take any questions|about cooking.
Don't step in the egg!
What am I thinking? I should have|checked the floor for egg!
Do you know a man named|Michael Hunsaker?
Jesus! Michael Hunsaker!
- What did he want?|- Your office called.
He's tried to reach you|for three days.
I haven't talked to him in...
...12 years!
Wait a minute.
That would make me...
That means that you're...
We're not gonna discuss it.
Forget the eggs.
How come I never heard|of Michael Hunsaker?
Just never talked about him.
Vietnam buddy?
Eat your own cake. Vietnam buddy.
Nick and the kids|left without me.
He left without you? Come on,|I never get enough of my baby.
This is my New Year's Eve dress.|Do you like it? Isn't it cool?
It's beautiful.
Have a good birthday.
Goddamn heartbreaker!
{y:i}A lot of people think|{y:i}this is a Superbowl. They're wrong.
{y:i}How much would you expect to pay|{y:i}for something like this?
{y:i}I'm offering you a Superbowl offer.
{y:i}A Superbowl of value|{y:i}on selected items.
{y:i}How much would you pay...?
I'll buy you a new one.
Perfect. Happy fiftieth, Rog.
{y:i}Shooting in progress.
{y:i}Three down. Code three.
Four-King-32,|en route to the sniper call.
Get down!
Look who's here.
- What do you got here?|- Sniper, sir.
Shooting kids, one officer down.
He's a nightmare. He's still inside.|We can't get to him.
- You got a SWAT team coming?|- No ETA.
I'll see you around.
Let me through! Let me through!
Nine years old!
How good a shot is he?
- What do you mean?|- Is he random or specific?
He shot at random.
- You make the weapon?|- Automatic.
- Hostages or anything like that?|- Not that we know of.
Where you going?
Get the hell back here.
Get down. You're in the line of fire.|Get down.
Get out of here. He'll shoot you!
Hello, Mr. Sniper, sir.
Get away!
I'm still here, asshole.
Or do you only do kids?
Shut up!
Go on, move, move!
You're one psycho son of a bitch,|but you're good.
Happy birthday, Rog!
We got a hooker.
No, it's Dixie. Would you please|tell these bozos to lay off?
You bozos, lay off.
Had a jumper here last night.|She saw it happen.
Get her statement, send her home.
Thanks. I'm beat.|You know how it is.
All dressed up, no one to blow.
You're hilarious!|I can't believe you damn cops!
The jumper's name is Amanda Hunsaker.
Age 22.
Prostitute. One arrest,|no convictions. Born in Tennessee.
- Parents...|- What was the name?
The parents.
Michael and Claire.
You know them?
Right. Find out who bought it,|who's paying the bills.
- That will take some looking into.|- So look!
Hello, honey.
Give me the number|for Michael Hunsaker.
{y:i}The man we talked about?|{y:i}Your Vietnam buddy?
- You just mentioned him this morning.|{y:i}- What's wrong?
His daughter just dove out a window.
I got it.
Good, huh? Tasty? Smooth?
- Yeah, that's good.|- You better fucking believe it.
Let's do it. How much?
How much for how much?
For all of it.
You want it all? He wants it all.
- All right!|- Maybe a nice tree to put it under.
You want a tree?
I'll tell you what.
I'll give you the best tree|on the lot for nothing.
But the shit's gonna cost you...
...a hundred.
That much?
That's a fair price.
You only live once.
Get this together here.
20, 40...
...50, 70...
- What the fuck?|- Hey, man!
Shut up, I'm losing count.
93, 94, 95, 96...
Forget it, dumbshit!
One hundred thousand!
One hundred thousand dollars!
A hundred thousand?
I can't afford that. Not on my salary.|But look, I got a better idea.
Let me say I take the whole stash|off your hands for free...
...and you assholes go to jail.|What do you say?
I could read you your rights, but you|already know what your rights are.
This badge ain't real.
You ain't real.
You sure are a crazy son of a bitch.
I'm crazy?
You think I am crazy?
I'll show you...
That's a real badge, I'm a real cop|and this is a real gun.
Okay, pal.
Noses in the dirt, assholes!
Where's your buddy?
What do you got?
Three down and one loose.|He's got a red shirt.
Okay, let's go.
Freeze! Give me the gun! Up, up!
How's it feel, sucker?
Shoot him!
Drop it!
Shoot him! Shoot him!
- Shut the fuck up!|- Shoot this prick!
Shoot him! Somebody|shoot this prick!
Shoot me.
Shut up! Put them down!
- I warn you! I'm going to shoot you!|- Shoot him!
Shut the fuck up! Shut up!
Shoot me! Shoot him!
Get him out of there.
It ain't worth it.
Come on, Sam. Thattaboy.
Hey, guys.
Up you go, Sam. Come on.
How you been there, Sam?
Been catching mice today?
What kind of a day did you have?
You haven't been doing anything,|lazy son of a bitch.
I'll get you a sandwich,|because that's all there is.
Beer for me.
Looks like turkey.|I got us a surprise.
Thirteen-inch color TV set.|We can watch reruns of "Lassie".
Hey, wait up already!
{y:i}Merry Christmas!
I miss you...
...Victoria Lynn.
That's silly, isn't it?
I'll see you later.
I'll see you much later.
Once more with feeling on three.
Damn it, Cooley. Do it on three,|or go on the street.
{y:i}Silent night
Are you telling me|Riggs is playing a game?
Sure. He wants the cash.|But he'll come around.
That's a very dangerous|attitude to take.
Remember, his wife of 11 years|was just killed in a car accident.
- He pulls his gun when he shouldn't.|- I know all about him.
He's a tough bastard.
He's on the edge. I'm telling you,|he may be psychotic.
That's a bunch of psych bullshit.
You're making a mistake|by keeping him in the field.
The man is suicidal.
You're sure of that diagnosis?|You have no doubts?
There are no absolutes in life.
End of discussion.|We're going to wait.
If he offs himself,|then we'll know I was wrong.
You're making a mistake,|because if you're wrong...
Roger, you're|way behind the times.
The guys in the '80s aren't tough.|They're sensitive people.
They show emotions around women,|shit like that.
I think I'm an '80s man.
How do you figure?
Last night...
...I cried in bed. How's that?
Were you with a woman?
I was alone. Why do you think|I was crying? Merry Christmas.
Sounds like an '80s man to me.
- News on the Hunsaker case.|- That was quick.
So was the autopsy.|They're not calling it a suicide.
Surprise, surprise. The coroner|found evidence she used barbiturates.
Brilliant detective work.
There were pills all over.
Right. That's not the surprise.
The surprise is|the pills were doctored.
The capsules were loaded|with drain cleaner.
She'd have died anyway.
This case stinks.
You know,|you looked younger with the beard.
Thanks, captain.
You shaved the beard.
Some detective.
Two more things.
The condition|of the sheets indicates...
...someone else was|in bed with Amanda. That's "A".
What's "B"?
"B" is, you're breaking in|a new partner on this.
Partner again?
Some cat on loan from Dope.|Real burnout, on the edge.
Rog, meet your new partner.
I'm too old for this shit.
There are those who|say you're a good cop.
I try.
I heard about the little|stunt yesterday. Pretty heroic.
I pulled your file.
Said you worked in the Phoenix|project in Vietnam. That right?
Assassination stuff.|It's over, you know.
What is?
The war.
Yes, I know.
Just thought I'd remind you.
That's some serious shit you carry.
Be my guest.
9mm Beretta. Takes 15 in the mag,|one up the pipe...
...wide ejection port, no feed jams.
What have you got?
Four-inch Smith.
A lot of old-timers carry those.
File also said you're heavy|into martial arts.
Tai chi and all that killer stuff.
I suppose we have to register you|as a lethal weapon.
Let's just cut the shit.|We both know why I was transferred.
Everybody thinks I'm suicidal,|so nobody wants to work with me.
Some think I'm faking|to draw psycho pension... nobody wants to work with me.|Basically, I'm fucked.
Guess what?
I don't want to work with you.
Then don't.
Ain't got no choice.|Looks like we both got fucked.
God hates me is what it is.
Hate him back. It works for me.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Mendez.|- How you doing?
Did you pat him down?
- We went through this already.|- Go through it again.
Who are you?
That's hardly important,|but you may call me Mr. Joshua.
Let's go.
Great, swell. Mr. Joshua, huh?
General, Mr. Mendez is here.
You call this music? I can get|a better band for half the price.
I don't want to hear any of this shit.|Let's get it right.
Mr. Mendez, how are you?
I'm fine.
Where did you get him?|Psychos "R" Us?
I don't think you're funny.
I don't think this whole|goddamn setup is funny.
You're using mercenaries.|Tell me I'm wrong!
You're not wrong.
And you expect me to trust these bozos?
My people are loyal to me.
Do you smoke?
What does that have to do with it?
Do you smoke?!
Give me your lighter.
- My lighter?|- Your lighter!
Okay. Right here.
Here. Take it.
What the fuck is wrong with you guys?
Shut your mouth!
Shut up!
And don't move.
Mr. Joshua, your left arm, please.
Hey, you guys are fucking gone.|You know what I am saying?
Jesus Christ, man!
You guys are fucking|crazy, man. Come on!
Have Endo look at that, Mr. Joshua.
Yes, sir.
You wish to do business with us, yes?
Jesus Christ!
You wish to make a purchase, yes?
Yes, yes! Jesus Christ, yes.
You guys are out there like|fucking Pluto, man. You're gone!
The heroin will be here Friday night.|We'll make delivery at that time.
Have the money ready, and no tricks.
If you try anything,|you'll have to talk to Mr. Joshua.
Right. Joshua. I got you.
Merry Christmas.
Yeah, right. You too, pal.
...the autopsy report showed|that Amanda was poisoned.
Even if she hadn't jumped,|she'd still be dead.
She was murdered.
I can't take this.|I just can't take this.
Why did you try|to get in touch with me?
I heard that you were...
Somebody told me you were|working out here.
I thought you could get her out.
Get her out of what?
Get her out of the stuff she was into.|She was making...
I thought maybe you could just|get her out. Help her.
Easy, Mike.
You owe me, Roger.
I remember.
I want you to find whoever's|responsible for this...
...however many of them there are.
I know you can do it.|Just find them and kill them.
I'm a police officer.
I don't give a shit|that you're a police officer!
Kill them! Just kill them!
Wait. Wait, Rog.
Come on. You find them|and you kill them.
You can do that. You owe me.
I owe you.
Gotta go, man.
What did he mean|when he said you owed him?
We served together in 1965.
La Drang Valley. Saved my life.|Took a bayonet in the lungs.
- That was nice of him.|- I thought so.
- Want me to drive?|- You're supposed to be suicidal.
Anybody who drives|in this town is suicidal.
{y:i}All units, possible jumper|{y:i}at Santa Monica and Orlando.
{y:i}7-A-21, handle code two.
{y:i}- All units, come in, please.|- Gotcha!
- What's the number of the car?|- 3-William-56.
3-William-56 en route.|I love this job! It's so exciting!
{y:i}Copy.|{y:i}Police psychologist on the way.
Hey, boss, can we put the sirens on?
Guys, I'm glad you're here.
- Where's the psychologist?|- Stuck in traffic.
Who's this guy?
Name's McCleary. He was at an|office party and just went outside.
- You think he'll go?|- Seems serious enough. Who knows?
- I can handle this.|- Are you qualified?
- I've done it before.|- You're elected.
- No guns, just bring him down.|- Roger.
- Who are you?|- Riggs, Homicide.
He's over there on the ledge.
Merry Christmas.
Leave me alone!
What are you doing?
None of your damn business!
Fair enough.
I'm just going to|come out there, okay?
Don't!|You touch me, I'm gonna jump!
Take it easy, for chrissake!
I don't like this|any better than you do.
I can't stand heights.
This makes me dizzy.
Just give me a chance|to talk to you.
I'm gonna stand|on the ledge with you.
Don't go. Not out on the ledge.
You're not the first guy|to think of this, you know.
A lot of people got problems|during this season.
- You know shit!|- No, you're wrong, pal.
You know nothing! Don't touch me!
I didn't do anything wrong!
I know that. It's not like|you're murdering anyone.
- That's right!|- That's right.
The only one I hurt is me! Me!
That's right. I know|you're hurting. I get it.
Don't come near me!
Give me a break.|My boss is watching me.
I got to make it look|like I'm trying to save you.
Come on.
I'm just gonna stand here|and talk to you. That's all.
You won't try nothing?
I'm square with you.|I won't try a thing.
You think I want to fall off?|I promise, I'll just talk to you.
All right.
Here, you want a cigarette?|Come on, let's smoke, okay?
Go on, take it.
Take our time and both die of cancer.
See this key?
You're crazy!
You can jump, but you'd take me|with you, making you a murderer.
- You bastard!|- You'd be killing a cop.
Yeah, a psycho nut cop!
I'm still a cop.|You coming in?
- I'm jumping!|- Do you really want to jump?
Do you want to?|That's fine with me. Come on!
Let's do it, asshole.
I want to do it.
You want to go up again?
Come on, it was great.
Help me! Help me loose!
He's trying to kill me!
Did you see that?|He's out of his mind! He's crazy!
I want my cuffs back.
- Don't you touch me!|- What the fuck did you just do?
I controlled the jump!|You wanted him down? He's down!
Come here!
Come here with me!
Get in here!
Okay, no bullshit!|You want to kill yourself?
Shut up! Yes or no?|You want to die?
I got the job done!
Just answer the question!
What do you want to hear, man?
That sometimes I think about|eating a bullet?
Well, I do!
I got a special one for the occasion,|with a hollow point.
Make sure it blows|the back of my goddamn head out!
Every day I wake up and think|of a reason not to do it.
Every single day.
And you know why I don't?|This is gonna make you laugh.
The job. Doing the job.|That's the reason.
- You want to die!|- I don't. I'm not afraid of it.
Here, take my gun. Don't nibble|on the barrel, pull the trigger.
Be my guest!|Go ahead, if you're serious!
You shouldn't tempt me.
In your mouth. Bullet may go|through your ear and not kill you.
Under the chin's just as good!
You're not trying|to draw a psycho pension.
You really are crazy.
I'm hungry. I'm gonna go|and get something to eat.
{y:i}I don't know. He's hurting. There's|{y:i}something eating away at this guy.
{y:i}I think he's on the edge.|{y:i}I think Riggs has a death wish.
Terrific. So you're|saying I should worry?
I think you should worry.
{y:i}When he goes,|{y:i}you don't want to be near him.
Thank you, doctor.|You've been very helpful.
You're welcome.
I'm too old for this shit.
You hungry?
No! I'm not hungry.
- Want me to drive?|- No! I'll drive!
Get in that side!
You drive.
You get a bad personal call? What|is it? Did the stock market crash?
Don't worry. Here, have a French fry.
Fifty years old. What a birthday.|Fifty years old!
Been on the force 20 years, not|a scratch on me. Got a wife, kids..., boat. I can kiss it all|goodbye because of your death wish.
My life is over.
Would you just shut up here?
Why are you talking to me anyway?|I'm a dead man!
I was driving before you were|an itch in your daddy's pants.
- I didn't know that.|- Know what?
That it was your birthday today.
It was yesterday.
Well, happy birthday for yesterday.
Sincerely. Happy birthday, man.
Maybe we'll stay alive long enough|for me to buy you a present.
Don't thank me now.
It's the least I can do after|all the kindness you've shown me.
Are you gonna tell me|where we're going?
Are we together on this?
Beverly Hills. We got an address|on Amanda Hunsaker's meal ticket.
Remember, he's not a suspect yet.
So we question him, not damage him.
I won't hurt. You do all the talking.
Let me do all the talking.
Experience counts here.
- You're not going to smoke in the car.|- Well, I am.
What? Does this bother you?
It bothers me.
- Does it?|- Yeah.
I'll open a window.
That's not the point. I have to watch|out for my lungs, take care of myself.
4241 coming up.
- Do we have a warrant?|- We don't need one with the gate club.
Didn't take them long, huh?
Hey, guys, go on in!|Make yourselves at home!
Merry Christmas!
Don't need a warrant|with an invitation.
I saw this place on|"Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless".
Get the door.
Nice and easy.
- Looks like the Garden of Eden.|- Look at this!
Isn't that sweet?
I'm thinking probable cause.
Get the girls!
Okay, asshole!
Move! Come on! Get out!
Fast! Move!
Get your hands on that tree|and face each other!
Hands in front of you!
- My leg...|- Don't move it, or I'll break your arm.
Got them!
Show me your hands!
Right now!
Put your hands out there!
See how easy that was?
Boom! Still alive.|Now we question him. You know why?
Because I didn't shoot him|or jump off a building with him.
The building guy lived.
The point being, no killing.
- No killing, right.|- Right.
Piece of cake. Now I'm happy.
Read him his rights.|I'll stand here being happy.
He's got a gun!
You ever met anybody you didn't kill?
Well, I haven't killed you yet.
Don't do me no favors.
Don't you worry.
The coroner gave the body|a ride downtown.
I guess we can get out of here.
I'm sorry about that shit|I said out there.
You saved my life. Thank you.
I bet that hurt to say.
You'll never know.
Let's get a bite to eat.
Get my shoes on.
- Mom, Rog is coming.|- Okay, Carrie.
Here's my welcoming committee!|Where's my daughter? Which one...?
- Come on, Daddy.|- This one's my daughter!
Home, both of you. Dinnertime.
How are you doing?
I am doing all right.
Is that a crook?
No, this is my new partner, Martin.
I'm glad you're home|at a sensible hour.
Well, I try to be a sensible dad.
Come on in, Martin.
Yeah, close the door.
Hello, Nick. Get your legs|off the arm of the couch.
How you doing? Is Mommy|in the kitchen? Let's sneak up on her.
Hello, baby!|I want you to meet...
I'd like you to meet|Daddy's new partner.
- Martin Riggs.|- How are you?
- This is my wife, Trish.|- Pleased to meet you.
Martin's going to join us for dinner.
- Roast okay with you?|- What's for dinner?
We'll see what's for dinner.
This is a brown, sticky...
It's roast.
How about a brown|roast-like substance?
- Roger, you're being an asshole.|- I try not to be.
- Want a drink?|- What do you got?
We have Canadian Mist...
- You like Canadian Mist?|- Honey, it's in the back.
How come we didn't have fish?|I thought we had fish tonight.
Don't worry about the fish.
Getting defensive...|Ever go fishing?
Not since I was a kid.|I used to go spearfishing.
All I caught was a cold.
I got that boat out there.
Rianne, get the dessert.
Rianne! Your mother said|get the dessert.
- Get the dessert. Get to it!|- Shut up.
Catalina Island. Nothing exciting,|but I catch my allotment.
You can catch a few things out there.|I caught my wife out there.
Nice fishing out there.
Mr. Riggs, care for a tart?
Thank you, yes. Call me Martin.
Mr. Riggs.
Sit down.
Rianne, it's not the first time|we've had company.
{y:i}My name is Carrie, I'm no fairy|{y:i}My sister's cherry
{y:i}She's in love with a guy|{y:i}named Martin...
Come on. It was really good!
Yeah, Dad! Why don't you try it?
It was good.
Yeah, there you go.
{y:i}I'm gonna find a partner|{y:i}My name is Roger
{y:i}And I need to be modger|{y:i}And a secret hodger
You need some help.
I am awful!
Hey, sarge! Thanks for|taking out the garbage.
But, honey,|I'm entertaining our guest.
What do you think?
It's nice. You know|anything about boats?
- I know what they cost.|- Can you sail this?
What's wrong with you?|It's not a sailboat.
That's what I thought.
There's no trick. That's the front,|that's the back, water all around.
Why you gotta make things|so complicated?
I don't. Things get complicated|all by themselves.
You mean Amanda Hunsaker's|murder, huh?
Did I mention that? I didn't.
Didn't have to.|I can read your mind.
What's the matter with you?
- Why is there a problem?|- There's no problem.
You got one dead girl|and one dead guy.
The guy kills the girl. We kill him|because he wants us to be dead guys.
That's easy for you to say.
A sugar daddy is dealing drugs.
She said, did or saw something|she wasn't supposed to.
He pitches her off the balcony|into the sweet by-and-by.
That's why he came at us|with a shotgun today.
I'm sorry. It's just a little|too neat. I can't swallow it.
Of course it's neat.|What's wrong with neat? I like neat.
By neat, you mean simple.
- You okay?|- Watch out!
What button did you push?
Where's my manual?
Is this what you're|looking for, captain?
You asshole!
Didn't mean to interrupt one of those|intellectual conversations...
Mark asked me to a club|tomorrow night.
- You're grounded. You know that.|- Please, Daddy?
Which one is Mark?
- The blond one.|- With pits in his face?
Those are dimples.
Pits. When he smiles, I can see|through his head. The answer is no.
Have a heart, Rog.
Hey, buddy. She smoked pot|in the house. She's grounded.
Why can I have a beer|and I can't smoke a joint?
It's not coke, you know.
I'll tell you why.|Because now, at this moment... is legal, grass ain't.|Right or wrong?
It's wrong.
They sit there drinking six-packs|and I get grounded.
I'm gonna go home.
Did we resolve anything here tonight?
Yeah, we resolved plenty.
We know your wife|takes out the garbage...
...your daughter smokes grass|and it's illegal...
...and you don't know|a lot about boats.
You got a hell of a nice family there.
Thank you.
I enjoyed the meal. Thanks a lot.
Bullshit. But thanks anyway.
You don't trust me at all, do you?
I tell you what. You make it through|tomorrow without killing anybody...
...especially me or yourself,|then I'll start trusting you.
Fair enough.
I do it real good, you know.
Do what?
When I was 19, I did a guy|in Laos from 1000 yards out.
A rifle shot in high wind.
Maybe eight...
...or even 10 guys in the world|could have made that shot.
It's the only thing I was ever good at.
See you tomorrow.
Yeah, see you.
You really like my wife's cooking?
See you tomorrow.
- You looking for something?|- Aren't we all?
You affiliated with any|law enforcement organization?
How old are you?
- Twenty-two.|- Bullshit.
- Why? You like them younger?|- Yeah.
A hundred bucks?|What'd you have in mind?
I want you to come home|and watch television with me.
- That's all?|- Yeah, "Three Stooges" are coming on.
- Are you serious?|- Sure, I'm serious.
Get out of there, Burbank.
This is cute.
What have we got here?|"Police evidence".
Morning, Roger.|Here, have some coffee.
I've been doing a lot of thinking|about the night Amanda Hunsaker died.
- How did you get in?|- Trish let me in.
- What time is it?|- Daytime.
The night Amanda Hunsaker died, she...
What was the name of that hooker|who witnessed the jump?
Come on, we got to get up|and catch bad guys today.
I'll get a shower.
What was the name of that hooker?
- Century City isn't her usual turf.|- Her name is Dixie!
Give me that cup.|And get out of here!
Someone was in bed with Amanda|the night she died.
Until now, we assumed it was a man.
Suppose it was Dixie.
Disgusting, but okay. Let's say Dixie|put the drain cleaner in her pills.
Say someone paid her.
She thinks, "Amanda swallows a couple|downers and she's dead." Then Dixie...
If it was her.
If it was her. She's got time|to spritz the place up and get out.
But Amanda jumps out the window.
Or Dixie pushes her.
She has to make a quick exit|because the body's public.
So she hauls ass downstairs.
People are saying, "What happened?"
Somebody spots her,|and she says, "Shit!"
That's right, she says, "Shit!"
The point being that now|she has to cover her ass.
So she grabs a flatfoot and says,|"Officer, I saw the whole thing."
That's pretty fucking thin.
That's very thin.
Thin's my middle name.
Your wife's cooking, I'm not surprised.
- What?|- Nothing.
Those remarks won't get you|invited to Christmas dinner.
My luck's changing|for the better every day.
All right, baby, come to Roger.
Center mass.
Read them and weep.
Do you sleep with that thing?
I would if I slept.
Step back. Let me show|what an old man can do.
Just warming up,|just warming up.
Watch carefully.
Hey! Look at that, will you?|Not bad for an old man.
Step aside, old man.
Have a nice day.
Uh-oh! The policemen are here!
Yeah, you're right.|Hello, policemen!
- How you doing?|- Fine.
Are you going to bust Dixie?
We're just going over there|for a cup of coffee.
We're going over here|to have breakfast.
You're gonna bust Dixie!
You're gonna bust Dixie!
- Like I said, thin.|- Probably nothing.
Did you see that? Wasn't that great?
What are you, a fag?
Your coat's on fire!
- Probably nothing.|- Thin. Very thin.
You guys okay? Got all|your fingers and toes?
We got a fire and explosion|at 111 th and Larch.
Request ambulance and fire department.
Do it again! Do it again!
- Give me a break, guys.|- Enough, enough!
Do you think Dixie was home?
What you got?
Part of the device.
This is artwork.|This is goddamn artwork.
This is real pro stuff. I haven't seen|anything like this since the war.
The CIA used to hire mercs.|They used the exact same setup.
Mercury switches, gaflooey!|That's heavy shit.
We got something.|The detective wants to see you.
Okay, here it is.
Some kids playing this morning... saw a guy checking the meter.
- Where?|- Here at Dixie's.
He was playing under the porch.|Says he saw the guy pretty good.
- It could be a break.|- Those kids are 6 years old.
- You call the gas company?|- Sure did.
No one's supposed to check|that meter for at least a month.
- Let me handle this.|- Be my guest.
He's the little fellow|that saw the guy.
My name is Detective Murtaugh.|What's yours?
- Don't tell him your name.|- He'll put you in jail.
You won't see your mom.
It's all right. I won't|put you in jail. What's your name?
- Don't tell him, Alfred.|- Alfred!
This is Alfred! Hey, meet Alfred.|This is Alfred.
Alfred, hi! How old are you?
Six years old. I bet you like Go-Bots.
Is that a real gun?
Yeah, this is a real gun.
Do you kill people?
No. If some guy is hurting someone,|I try to shoot him in the leg...
...just to stop him.
Mama says policemen|shoot black people.
- Is it true?|- Yeah, is it true?
Is that true?
Maybe we ought to get|the kids some...
Ice cream.
You like ice cream?
No, not you, Alfred.
The man you saw,|did you get a good look at him?
- I saw him.|- Great!
Picture him in your head.|Close your eyes.
Think what he looks like.
Got it?
Can you draw him?
Give me some drawing paper|and crayons.
- This is good.|- Can it, man.
We're gonna put out|an APB on Big Bird.
"All units. Large|yellow bird, silly voice."
You're hilarious, Martin. It's enough.
Tell me what he looks like.
Was he black?
Was he white?
Was he tall?
Tall like me?
What color was his hair? Brown?
His hair was blond.
What did he have on?|Did he have jeans on?
It was paint.
I don't know.
Painted. A tattoo?
Like Popeye?|A tattoo like Popeye? No?
It was that.
Like that?
Exactly like that?
I saw it good. This is it.
I remember.
Are you sure?
It had a knife, even.
Roger, that's a Special Forces tattoo.
A Special Forces tattoo,|mercury switches...
What the hell|have we gotten into here?
Wonder if there's an opening|in the fire department.
Want to tell me about it?
- About what?|- Don't bullshit me.
Your daughter wasn't killed|for something she was into.
She was killed|for something you're into.
Stop me if I'm wrong.
I don't know what you mean.
Keep your hands|away from your pocket, okay?
Easy, man.
Fuck easy.
You called me the other day|to blow the whistle, right?
Blow the whistle on what?
You were going to tell all,|so they killed your daughter.
Tell me if I'm wrong.|Talk to me!
They killed your daughter.
They paid off a hooker to poison|your little girl.
Chrissake!|I've got another daughter.
- She'll be protected.|- You don't know these people.
Acquaint me with them.
It goes back to the war.
I worked with a group called|"Air America". CIA front.
They secretly ran|the entire war out of Laos.
I was with a special unit called|"Shadow Company". Trained killers.
When Charlie brought in heroin|to finance the VC government...
...Shadow Company burned|the whole thing down.
We killed everybody.
We also formed a plan.
Keep talking.
A few years ago, Shadow Company|got together again.
The war was over.
But we still had our sources in Asia.
We've been bringing it in|ever since.
Bringing in what?
Two major shipments a year.
It's all run by ex-CIA.
Soldiers, mercs.
You son of a bitch!
If you had cold feet, why did|they kill Amanda? Why not you?
- They can't. They need me.|- Why?
My company is a perfect front. Makes|everything look great on tax reports.
This is big business, Roger.
Not anymore.
I'm gonna burn it down.
You can't. It's too big.
These people are trained,|expert killers.
Tell me about your next shipment:|Where it's coming in, how many...
I can't tell you that, Roger.|I can't.
I have another daughter. You can't|protect her. I'm in this too deep.
Heroin.|You got off easy, you son of a bitch!
You through?
I haven't even started.
{y:i}Gen. McAllister, this is Delta One.|{y:i}We're coming in. Over.
- So your mission is accomplished?|{y:i}- Yes, sir.
{y:i}Mr. Hunsaker is dead, sir.
{y:i}I'm afraid, however,|{y:i}that another problem exists.
{y:i}What is it? Explain.
{y:i}Hunsaker spoke to the police.
{y:i}- Are they dead?|{y:i}- No, I missed the opportunity.
{y:i}Very disappointing. So the police|{y:i}may know the whole operation?
{y:i}That is correct, sir.
Joshua, it's time|we turned up the heat.
Come on home.
What's a nice Irish girl|like you doing out here?
I'm looking for a guy,|had this girl in his stable.
- Never seen her.|- She's in your line of work. You sure?
- Sure. Why?|- I'm a police officer.
Don't worry, I won't drag your|ass to jail...
You wore your vest!
That was smart, kid. Come on.
Hold on! I'm on your side.
Son of a bitch, that hurts!
I'm pissed, Roger! Now I'm pissed.
Look at your face!
Two inches higher,|he'd have hit your head.
Two inches lower,|I'd be a falsetto for life.
I bet you'd sound nice too.
- Where's my gun?|- Here.
Oh, shit! Roger!
The guy who shot me...
The same albino jackrabbit|son of a bitch that did Hunsaker.
You sure?
I'm sure, man.|I never forget an asshole.
I got an idea.
We fly first class to Detroit|and lay low for a couple weeks.
Come on, be serious.|What do we do?
What else?
We bury the fuckers.|And you know what else?
We do this right, we get famous.|Do shaving ads. Girls. Money.
With our luck, we'll do|Forest Lawn commercials.
Bullshit! We got the edge.
Roger, they think I'm dead.|I'm a corpse.
Brilliant shit!
{y:i}We got a body for you.
He was at Hunsaker's place.|I saw him, he saw me.
Get someone else to do it, okay?
{y:i}Captain says give it to you.|{y:i}About two blocks from your house.
Yeah, sure. He's probably blond|with big dimples.
{y:i}How did you know that, sarge?
Get in here!
They just gave a description|of the kid my daughter's dating.
Let's be dark and quiet.
The bastards got my daughter.
What is it?
- What is it?!|- Nothing!
Get back in your room.|Back in your room!
{y:i}You have a beautiful daughter.
{y:i}I'd stick by the phone to find out|{y:i}where to meet us.
They got my kid.
Bastards took my baby.
{y:i}Sgt. McCaskey, pick up line three.
Homicide, McCaskey speaking.
This is KCOP news.
We heard an officer was shot tonight.|Can you give us more information?
Sgt. Martin Riggs was shot and killed.|Who is this?
We'll send somebody right over.
Bingo! Riggs is out of the picture.
I want Murtaugh taken alive.
He may not talk.
We have his little girl.|He'll talk.
You know they're gonna kill her,|don't you?
And if you want her back,|you'll have to take her away from them.
I know.
We do this my way.|You shoot and you shoot to kill.
Get as many as you can.|All you got to do is just not miss.
I won't miss.
We're going to get bloody on this one.
Are you really crazy?
Or are you as good|as you say you are?
You're gonna have to trust me.
Here we go.
{y:i}We don't want your daughter.|{y:i}We want to know what Hunsaker told you.
{y:i}Dry Lake. Victorville.|{y:i}Sunrise tomorrow. Be there.
Yes, that's right.
Show me my daughter!
Let me see her,|then I'll come quietly.
He wants to see the girl.
Get out.
Okay, baby! I'm here.
Okay, it's all right.
Simple exchange.
You come with us,|the girl takes a walk.
Let her go now.
As I say, take your hands|out of your pockets.
Sure thing, pal.
It's alive.
Let her go now, or we all die.
Take him!
He has a grenade!
He's bluffing!|He wouldn't risk killing his daughter.
If she's gonna die...
...she's gonna die with me.|My way, not yours.
Come on, Roger, get out of the way.|Move to your left. Come on!
Put the pin back in.
Officer Murtaugh, don't be foolish.|Look at the hardware.
Move to your left.
Look at the firepower.|You're grounded. Riggs is gone.
Put the pin back in the grenade.
If you come closer...
...then we all die.
No! I don't think so.
Come on, honey.
Just a smoker.
Where is he?
It's Riggs.
Rianne, get in the car!
Get in the fucking car!
Go, Rianne, go!
Come on, cottontail,|stick your head up.
That's it, you son of a bitch.|Good night.
Don't try it, son.|You're not that fast.
{y:i}Hello, Joshua. Hello, Joshua.
- Yes, sir.|{y:i}- I got Riggs.
He's got Riggs. Go get the girl!
Throw your weapon down!
Put your hands behind your head!
You're Gen. Peter McAllister,|commander of Shadow Company.
I see we've heard of each other.
Yep. It'll almost be a shame|when I nail you.
I ran into some of those Shadow Company|pussies in Saigon in '69.
You did, did you?
Leave me alone!
Save your strength.|You'll need it.
Who's the Chin?
Endo, meet Mr. Martin Riggs.
Endo has forgotten more|about dispensing pain...
...than we'll ever know.
See, we have a problem.
Since we have Murtaugh...
...we don't need you.
- I believe in being thorough.|- I've heard that about you.
Our problem, and yours too... we have a shipment|of merchandise to deliver.
Why don't you just call it heroin?
It's rather large, this shipment.
It would be unfortunate...
...if we showed up|to deliver our heroin...
...and were surrounded by 50 cops.
That would be too bad.
Yes, it would be.
So we have to find out|all the cops know.
We don't know shit.|You did Hunsaker before he could say...
I wish I could believe you.|Unfortunately, I don't.
Now, if you tell me|everything you know...
...I promise you I'll kill you quick.
I told you everything I know.
What is that thing?
I'll tell you.
It's electric shock treatment.
We're in for a long night,|because I don't know shit.
We'll see.
Hit him again!
Tell me about the shipment!
I'm gonna fucking kill both of you!
Very funny.|What about the shipment?
The shipment, Mr. Murtaugh.
Go spit!
Go spit, you son of a bitch.|Fuck you!
This is getting nowhere.
Mr. Large.
He knows shit. We're safe.
He'd have told us.|Nobody can take that.
Badass soldier, huh?
Get her up.
Untie me and I'll kill|all of you bastards!
Tell me what you know.
Fuck you, bastard!|I'll kill you!
Sorry, pal.|Say good night.
That's a real good-looking|young woman... got there, Mr. Murtaugh.
I've told you everything.
We'll soon know, won't we?
I'm warning you.
Spare me, son. It's over.
There's no more heroes|left in the world.
Kill that son of a bitch!
That asshole's getting away!
Who's fucking next?
Who's next?
Pretty thin, huh?
- Let's do what the shepherd did.|- What?
Get the flock out of here.
Is it him?
No. It's not Joshua.
Halt! Stop! Stop!
Get out of the fucking car!|Come on, now!
Police officers!
I'm a police officer. Give me|some backup and take care of the girl.
He's going for the freeway!
You okay?
Cut over the 3rd Street bridge!|You'll get ahead of him.
General McAllister...
...time for you to die.
Hold it!
Get back in your car!
Mind if I test drive your Audi?
Stop the son of a bitch!
He got my car!
- Get back!|- Hey, man, I'm cool.
Let's get out of here!
Open the door!
Kill that cop son of a bitch!
No way you live. No way.
- Gangway!|- Hold it now.
- Police officer.|- Go ahead.
Well, shit!|What now, kid?
First thing, we get you to a hospital.
Come on. Let's go.
Don't breathe this stuff.|You'll see pink elephants.
The slippery son of a bitch got away!
- What do you mean he got away?|- Hey, fire me.
Where you going?
Sarge, I'm commandeering your car.
What's the matter?
My home!|The bastard knows where I live.
I'll drive, Cochise.
- I gotta look at him!|- He's all right.
3-W-30 en route to|Sgt. Murtaugh's residence.
Requesting additional units.
Excuse me, sir.|May we help you?
No, thank you.
{y:i}Good morning, sir.
{y:i}Tell me, what day is it?
Goddamn Christmas!
I'll give you a home|to come back to.
Crazy son of a bitch!
Give me that. Drop it.
Looking for the general?
He's barbecuing his nuts|on Hollywood Boulevard.
What do you say, Jack?
Like a shot at the title?
Don't mind if I do.
Okay, men! I'm Sgt. Murtaugh.|My responsibility here!
{y:i}Watch commander is en route.
{y:i}Until then, Sgt. Murtaugh|{y:i}is in charge on-site.
Just keep the citizens clear.
Keep everyone back!
It's Sgt. Riggs' arrest.|I take full responsibility!
The son of a bitch|killed two of our men!
Get him, kid!|He's yours!
Come on, Riggs! Come on!
You want to quit now?|You want to quit?
Give me your nightstick!
Come on!
Show me what you got!
Eat this, sucker!
Let them take him!
Let me take him!
No! Back off!
Break his fucking neck!
It's not worth it.
You lose.
Get that shit off my lawn!
How you doing, kid?
I got you.
I got you, partner.
Merry Christmas, Victoria Lynn.
I love you.
How are you?
I'm going to be all right. You?
I'm good.
Give this to your dad, okay?
It's a present for him.|Tell him I won't need it anymore.
- It's a bullet.|- Yeah, it's a bullet.
He'll understand.
You want to come in?|We're building.
No, I gotta go.
You have a nice Christmas, though.
Okay. You too.
Okay. Bye.
After all we've been through...
...if you think I'm gonna eat|the world's worst turkey by myself...'re crazy.
- I'll tell you a little secret.|- What?
I'm not crazy.
I know.
Oh, good. Let's eat.
Hey, you know something?
I think your daughter likes me.
- If you touch her, I'll kill you.|- You'll try.
- You mind if I bring a friend?|- Of course, bring a friend.
I don't think the cat|will like this.
I'll put five on the mutt.
I'm too old for this.
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Leon CD1
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