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.
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
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.
Stop telling me to keep calm.
Because we're accessories...
- to the murder... - Would you please keep your voices down?
of a five year-old boy
whose daddy happens to be the fucking filth.
- Hey! Shut him up, Frank. - Okay.
- Can I help you? - Just want to look around.
- You got a warrant? - Place of work. Don't need one.
You need a reason.
Murder investigation?
Dr. Susan Bouchard.
- This an interview? - Why you want a lawyer?
Chief Worth.
We'd be more than happy to help.
So, just a couple of questions
about the suspected murder of Dr. Bouchard.
- Dr. Bouchard? - Yeah, Dr. Susan Bouchard.
She compiled, uh, some sort of medical report.
Shortly before she was murdered.
Re, Northstream.
Would you care to comment about that?
I have no knowledge of any report.
Your company ruined her life apparently.
Some sort of blacklist.
She was terrified about what you might do next.
What?
- I wouldn't be able to comment on that. - Why not?
I mean, there must be a ton of lawyers in this place.
Oh, don't worry. I can wait.
Yeah, okay. You've had enough.
Just put it down. You've had enough mate!
- Fuck! - Oh, f...
- Sorry, pal. - Arsehole!
I'll buy you another one, all right? What was it, a shandy?
You big fucking poof?
- What did you say? - Leave it.
Who the fuck are you?
Walk away.
Shit.
Unit One. We have a disturbance in progress.
Location, Randy's.
The girl's with me so I need backup.
Stay there.
Now come on, cowboy.
Hey. Fancy a slice of my Sheffield steel, you fucking Canadian cunt?
Hey.
Would you want a match for the best of British? Do you?
Do you?
Ladies and gentlemen.
The winner of tonight's Killer Karaoke Contest is...
is... Johnny!
- Look, look... Fuck off. - Whoa.
What's your name, son?
Come on, don't be shy.
It's Tim.
And where you from, Tim?
- Blackpool. - What?
- Blackpool. - Blackpool, England!
Hasn't escaped my notice that you are carrying a guitar.
You wouldn't happen to be a musician, by any chance would you?
- Yeah. I do actually. - Yes, he is folks!
Well,
what more fitting way to celebrate your victory this evening
than by singing us an encore?
I'm gonna sing a little Blackpool rock...
Hey!
* You can tell by the way I use my walk *
* I'm a woman's man: no time to talk *
* Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around *
* Since I was born *
* And that's all right, it's okay *
* You may look the other way *
* We can try to understand *
* The New York Times' effect on man *
* Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother *
* You're stayin' alive *
* Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin' *
* And we're stayin' alive *
* Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive *
* Stayin' alive *
* Life goin' nowhere, somebody help me *
* Somebody help me, yeah *
* Life goin' nowhere, somebody help me, yeah *
It says for anxiety.
There's no difference between a pill and a drink, Jim.
They both numb the pain, but at what cost?
Once you start you won't be able to stop.
And then you won't be present for Anna.
I'll take that as a no, then.
You know the real reason we came here, right?
Why?
Well, 'cause I'm an alcoholic. And your mum thought
putting six thousand miles between me and London was a good idea.
Although, there are a tons of pubs out here.
I'm not an idiot, Dad. We've had the conversation.
- There was a conversation, was it? - About your disease.
Booze wasn't your problem, it was your solution.
You wanted life to be beautiful, but it wasn't.
Till you took a drink, then everything clicked.
And the drugs,
don't forget the drugs, love. There was loads of drugs.
For 25 years, it made the bad times okay and the good times better.
- Till it stopped working. - Yeah.
You started doing things, things you couldn't remember.
One sip of this and you'd change. Become someone else.
Someone horrible.
So, promise me.
I promise.
Say it.
Say: "I promise you, Anna.
I promise on your life, I won't drink again."
- I promise. - "On your life."
On your life.
Let's make this quick, all right?
Dad?
Yep?
- What's ice called? - Ice is called ice, Pete.
- Stand up. Yeah. - Ice!
It's what happens when...
water gets really, cold.
- Dad? - Yep?
- What's water called? - Water's called water, Pete.
Dad?
Get rid of that.
You okay?
- Feels weird. - Mm.
Like I'm not her anymore.
Come here.
You're still me little girl.
And no one's gonna hurt you, all right?
You okay, Chief?
I'm with Anna.
We're fine.
- What if the shooter tries again? - H-He won't.
He missed me from ten feet
and then he ran away, Denise.
He's crap at his job.
He's probably still in town,
shitting himself,
wondering whether he should fuck off
or wait around and take another pop.
That's why we keep the roads closed.
If he runs for it, kill him.
- Quick as you can, love. - Yep.
* I was inches from fame *
* Fun and bitches *
Ah, fuck fame.
Integrity would have done.
* But a poker game dealt me a blow *
* Lost my riches *
* Now my Trini Lopez *
* Is all that I have left *
To bet.
* But it wouldn't have settled *
* My gambling debt anyway... *
- You cunt! - What the fuck have I done?
You dropped one of these you fucking nonce!
- Up at the cabin! - What are you talking about?
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- I couldn't have... - You lied to me.
And I'll fucking kill you.
What is it, Whitey?
That girl's found one of Johnny's snouts. God knows why.
Now she's got his DNA all over the end of a fag butt.
- Johnny? - He's a fucking liability, Frank.
Me? What about him?
Shut up, Johnny!
He was smoking. When he went to the house.
- It was an accident! - You...
Fuck!
This is bad.
We gotta get a hold of that fag butt.
The girl. She's taken it with her.
Christ! Right.
One of you lot is gonna get it off her.
- I'll do it. - How?
I will fucking kill her if I have to.
You won't touch her.
If that girl's onto us, we need to clear out, Whitey.
- We can't. - Now. While we still can.
- We can't. - Why not?
- 'Cause the fucking road's still closed. - What?
I'm telling you that we have to fucking kill her!
Don't you fucking touch her.
I'll do it.
- Have you started smoking again? - What? Don't be daft.
Well, last time you got pissed you started smoking first.
I have not started smoking again.
- Anna. - Hi.
Thank you.
You've reached Rev. Gregoire. I'm not able to take your call right now.
Please leave a message after the tone,
and I'll get back to you soon as I can.
Call me.
So Nick's right outside the door.
You don't answer it to anyone but me or him. All right?
And whatever you do don't go near the people.
Why not?
Just don't.
Where are you going?
Well, work, love.
Why aren't you taking me? You said peas in a pod.
Sooner or later, I've got to do something about this.
And I can't do it with you glued to my side, can I?
I'll be back soon.
- All right? I promise. - Mm-hm.
Fifth floor. Room 504.
North east side of the building, nearest the fire escape.
He's leaving now. The girl's on her own.
And you will never pull this off you know.
Watch me.
Chief?
Whiskey.
- Glass, shot or highball? - Shot.
Coming up.
Thanks.
Yeah?
Where are the kids?
Anna's in the hotel.
And she's fine.
And Petey?
Pete, he... Pete, he's dead, love.
He's dead. Pete's dead.
Uh?
He's dead, love.
Hey!
- Drive! - Where to?
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com