I thought you'd be taller.
So, Vincent...
- What are the two names? - Ramone Ayala and Clarke.
Ramone Ayala and Clarke were murdered tonight? Both killed?
- Clarke for sure. Ramone, I don't know. - I got another D.O.A.
Daniel Baker out of South Central, Leimert Park.
That's three.
- Three what? - Witnesses.
Vincent meets their people
in Culiacan or Cartagena.
But he don't meet you. OK.
Now you're here.
Why?
I lost my stuff.
The list.
I want you to listen to me real well.
Special groups put together the list of dedos.
- Dedos. - Fingers. Informants.
Signal interceptions with voice-recognition software, surveillance.
A very expensive counterintelligence worked up that list.
An important list. Wouldn't you say?
And you lost it?
Yeah. I'm sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry? "Sorry" does not put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
- Do you believe in Humpty Dumpty? - No.
- Do you believe in Santa Claus? - No.
Nor do I.
Nor do I, but my children do. They are still small.
But do you know who they like even better than Santa Claus? His helper.
Pedro el Negro. Black Peter.
There's an old Mexican tale that tells of how Santa Claus
got so busy looking out for the good children,
that he had to hire some help to look out for the bad children.
So he hired Pedro.
And Santa Claus gave him a list with all the names of all the bad children.
And Pedro would come every night to check them out.
And the people, the little kids that were misbehaving,
that were not saying their prayers,
Pedro would leave a little toy donkey on their windows.
A little burro, and he would come back.
If they were still misbehaving, Pedro would take them away
and nobody would ever see them again.
Now, if I am being Santa Claus, and you are Pedro,
how do you think jolly old Santa Claus would feel
if one day Pedro came into his office and said, "I lost the list"?
How fucking furious do you think he will get?
Tell me, Vincent.
Tell me what you think.
- [Clears throat] - What?
I think...
I think you should tell the guy...
behind me...
...to put that gun down.
What did you say?
I said you should tell the guy behind me to put his gun away
before I take it and beat his bitch ass to death with it.
I picked up a tail.
- Federal? - I don't know, you tell me.
That's why I tossed the list.
The work-ups, all of that shit.
To protect, in part...
your Hermes Fa�onnable ass.
You think I like coming in here?
But, hey...
...shit happens.
Got to roll with it. Adapt.
Darwin. I Ching.
The fat man, the penthouse guy, the jazz man.
That leaves two.
Can you finish?
In six years...
...when have I not?
[Max, distorted] Say it's Vincent.
I'm Vincent.
- [rewinding] - Say it's Vincent.
I'm Vincent.
Say it's Vincent.
I'm Vincent.
- [Weidner] Vincent? - [Woman] That's what I'm hearing.
[Max] I'm Vincent.
Your last two.
And by the way, as a token of my appreciation
I would like to offer you a discount.
For all my services, 25 percent.
Very generous.
Hell, make it 35.
And by the way...
Daniel said he was sorry.
Interesting.
[Mumbles in Spanish]
[Crowd chatters, indistinct]
E-mail me his license.
[Fanning] To my cell phone.
No, no, I'll wait.
Is there anybody else in that cab?
[Vincent] Vegas odds would've been against you walking out of there.
Yeah, I'm very impressive.
Sixth Street by Alexandria, a club called Fever. You know it?
Locate our witness, Peter Lim. Get him evacuated and safe.
[Pedrosa] L.A. 101 to chase units.
African American, medium build.
The assault team will do the takedown. Do not spook him before.
I want air support to maintain at 1500 feet.
Thank you.
- How long? - 12 minutes.
According to the cab's dispatch unit, he's been driving that cab for 12 years.
So what?
You're telling me the guy walks into a phone booth
and changes into a meat-eater super assassin?
What's he do, squeeze them in between fares?
The real driver is floating down a storm drain.
[Fanning] The guy who walked out looks like this.
- He picked a driver who looks like him. - I don't know.
I do. Zee?
We see private-sector security companies hiring out to cartels
in Colombia, Russia, Mexico,
hiring ex-Special Forces, Stasi, ex-KGB, like that, all the time.
Guys with trigger time, skill sets, tradecraft, look like a cab driver.
What are you going to do?
Take his ass down. Save our witness.
What if they're wrong?
The guy's admitting his name is Vincent. He's in there talking to the bad guys.
- There is something else going on. - There's nothing.
I thought there was, there isn't. It's their ball, their game.
- There's nothing in it for us. - Nothing for you.
It's late, I'm going home. You know what time it is?
[Tires screeching]
They locate Peter Lim?
- [Zee] The wife thinks he's at Fever. - [Pedrosa] Sixth and Alexandria. Move it.
L.A. 101 to L.A. 103, L.A. 105, L.A. 108.
Witness is at Fever, Sixth and Alexandria. That's where Vincent is going.
[Pedrosa] Assault team and remaining unit, take Vincent.
First unit on the scene will get the witness out.
L.A. 105 to L.A. 101. We copy that.
- You going to call her? - Who?
Your lady friend. The one who gave you her business card.
I don't know. Maybe, maybe not.
What?
Pick up the phone.
Life's short. One day it's gone.
You and I make it out of this alive, you should call her.
That's what I think.
Anyway...
[Pedrosa] There he is. Hit it.
[Pedrosa] Let's do it.
[Throbbing club music plays]
[Vincent] The table towards the back is where he hangs.
Wilke, take the right. Brian, hold the door.
Clean shots. Watch your backgrounds.
Move 15 feet ahead, three feet left.
Wander, innocent bystanders get the first rounds. Clear?
- [Grunting] - [Snapping]
- [Crunching] - [Screaming]
[Pained groaning]
There's Lim. Second booth from the left. Get him out.
[Clubbers chattering]
Middle of the dance floor. Freeze, Vincent!
FBI! FBI! Get your hands in the air! Get your hands in the air, Vincent!
- This is the FBI! Hands in the air! - FBI. Where's Peter Lim?
- [Shouting in Korean] - Drop it!
[Screaming]
Freeze!
- I'm not Vincent. - FBI!
Yo, put the gun down! You got the wrong...
[screaming]
Pedrosa's been shot. Get an RA unit.
Wait, wait!
Hold on. I'm Detective Fanning.
I'm Max! I'm a goddamn cab driver, man! I'm a goddamn cab driver.
I know. I'm getting you out of here. I'm LAPD. Come on.
[Shouting in Korean]
- How'd you find me? - You're okay. Just move it.
Keep moving.
[Fanning] You're OK, you're OK.
You're OK. You're all right.
- [Shots, crowd screams] - Let's go!
[Car alarm sounding]
Let's go.
Go! Drive! Drive!
[Metal, glass crunching]
[Chopper buzzing]
[Sirens]
Only thing didn't show up was the Polish cavalry.
You're alive. I saved you.
Do I get any thanks? No. All you can do is clam up.
You want to talk? Tell me to fuck off?
Fuck off.
You had to kill Fanning?
- Who the fuck is Fanning? - Fanning, the cop.
Why'd you have to kill him?
He's probably got a family. Kids will grow up without him.
He believed me.
I should've saved him because he believed you.
- Not that. - Yeah. That.
What's wrong with that?
- It's what I do for a living. - Some living.
- Head downtown. - What's downtown?
How are you at math? I was hired for five hits. I did four.
Why didn't you just kill me and get another cab driver?
You're good. We're in this together. Fates intertwined. Cosmic coincidence.
- You full of shit. - I'm full of shit?
You even bullshitted yourself,
if all I am is taking out garbage, killing bad people.
- That's what you said. - You believe me?
[Exasperated sigh]
- Then what'd they do? - How do I know?
They all got that "witness for the prosecution" look to me.
Probably some major federal indictment
of somebody who majorly does not want to get indicted.
So that's the reason?
That's the "why." There's no reason.
There's no good or bad reason to live or to die.
Then what are you?
Indifferent.
Get with it.
Millions of galaxies of hundreds of millions of stars
and a speck on one in a blink.
That's us. Lost in space.
The cop, you, me...
Who notices?
What's with you?
As in?
As in if somebody had a gun to your head and said:
"You got to tell me what's going on with this person over here or I'll kill you.
What is driving him? What was he thinking?"
You know, you couldn't do it, could you, because...
...they'd have to kill your ass
because you don't know what anyone else is thinking.
I think you're low, my brother. Way low.
Like, what were you? One of those institutionalized raised guys?
Anybody home?
The standard parts that are supposed to be there in people, in you...
...aren't.
And why haven't you killed me yet?
Of all the cabbies in L.A. I get Max: Sigmund Freud meets Dr. Ruth.
Answer the question.
Look in the mirror.
Paper towels, clean cab, limo company someday.
- How much you got saved? - That ain't none of your business.
Someday? Someday my dream will come?
One night you'll wake up and you'll discover it never happened.
It's all turned around on you. It never will. Suddenly you are old.
Didn't happen. And it never will because you were never going to do it anyway.
You'll push it into memory, then zone out in your Barcalounger,
being hypnotized by daytime TV for the rest of your life.
Don't you talk to me about murder.
All it ever took was a down payment on a Lincoln Town Car.
Or that girl. You can't even call that girl.
What the fuck are you still doing driving a cab?
Because I never straightened up and looked at it, you know?
Myself. I should have.
I tried to gamble my way out from under, but that was just a born-to-lose deal.
- Slow down. - It's got to be perfect.
It's got to be perfect to go. Risk all torqued down.
I could've done it anytime I wanted to.
Red light.
But you know what? New news.
It doesn't matter anyway. What does it matter anyway?
We're all insignificant out here in this big-ass nowhere.
Twilight Zone shit.
Says the badass sociopath in my back seat.
But you know what? That's the one thing I got to thank you for, bro.
Because until now, I never looked at it that way.
What does it matter? It don't, so fuck it. Fix it.
What do we got to lose anyway, right?
Slow down.
Why? You going to pull the trigger and kill us?
- Go ahead, shoot my ass. - Slow the hell down.
You going to shoot me now? You going to kill us?
Well, shoot my ass then. Shoot me.
- Slow down! - You're right.
You know what, Vincent?
Go fuck yourself!
- [Coughing] - [Car hissing]
Well, that was brilliant.
[Max] Didn't have your seat belt on?
[Distant police sirens]
[Sirens]
1 L-20, show me code six at Olympic and Figueroa on a TC with injuries.
[Radio] Copy your location.
Are you okay? What happened?
Sir, you were involved in an accident.
An ambulance is on its way to help you. You understand what I'm saying?
Sit down and relax, okay?
Okay. Don't worry about the cab. They'll get you a new one.
Relax and breathe.
Put your hands up!
Put your hands up. Face the cab. Get down on your knees!
- Arrest me. - Hands on your head.
Take me to jail. L.A. County's great.
Don't move! Put your hands behind your head.
[Officer] 1 L-20, I need a backup on a 187 suspect.
Ah!
[Officer] Put the gun down!
- Put your hands down! Look, I got to go. - [Yelling]
Stop moving! Stop moving!
When did this become a negotiation?
Cuff your hands together. Hold your hands together.
Listen, somebody's going to get killed if I don't go right now.
Now, cuff yourself.
I'm going to Sixth and Fig. Call the cops.
Give me that.
Hey, hey! Whoa! Fuck.
[Ringing]
- [Beeping] - Shit!
Come on!
Come on. Go through.
- Come on. Come on. Pick up. - [Ringing]
[Ringing]
[Max] Pick up.
Come on, girl.
Come on, pick up.
[Ringing]
- U.S. Attorney's Office. - Annie! It's Max.
Max, the cab driver.
Listen to me, all right? A guy named Vincent...
Listen to me, Annie.
It's kind of a strange time to be calling.
Listen. There's a man named Vincent. He's coming to kill you.
- He's what? - Kill you! He's coming to kill you!
He was scoping out the building when I dropped you off...
If this is supposed to be some type of joke, it's not funny.
It's not a joke. Listen to me, please.
Felix hired him. Okay? Or people that Felix worked for.
Felix Reyes-Torrena. How do you know about my case?
I don't understand.
All I know is he's already killed witnesses. He's coming to kill you.
When I dropped you off, I don't know how,
but he ended up in my cab.
[Breathing heavily]
[Max] Annie...
Annie, listen. All I want you to do...
- [Annie] I don't understand. - [Max] Listen. Please listen.
[Max] Get out of the building. Annie.
- [Annie] I'm leaving the building now. - No, wait.
- Max. - Wait, wait.
- Max. - Where are you? What floor?
I'm on the 16th floor. I'm in the Law Library and Files.
He's two floors below you, corner office.
In my office?
He does not know you're there. Stay there and call 911.
Are you sure he's on the 14th floor?
Just stay there and just call the police.
Max.
- [Beeping] - Shit.
Max.
Shit.
[Ringing]
- Max. - He knows you're up there.
I can't hear you. Hello?
Annie. Annie, listen to me.
Annie. Annie.
Shit.
[Woman] 911. Operator.
There is a man in my building and he is...
[electric fizzling, popping]
[Annie] Hello?
[Labored breathing]
[Grunting]
[Clicking]
[Beeping]
[Whimpering]
Let her go.
Max?
Why? What are you going to do about it?
- [Gunshot] - [Screams]
Come on.
Max!
God. Felix Reyes-Torrena?
Yeah. I met him.
What do you mean, you met him? How?
I don't know. Look, when I dropped you off, there was a fare.
He said his name is Vincent.
- Wait, wait, wait. - This is the street.
This way. Come on.
[Max] Stay up. Stay up. Stay up.
- What we going to do? - Wait, wait.
Wait, wait. Wait.
[Max, whispering] Stay down.
[Train whistling]
Shit!
There's a station.
[Whispers, indistinct]
[Bell clanging]
[Brakes squeal]
[Train whistling]
Max!
I do this for a living!
[Heavy breathing]
We're almost...
...at the next stop.
Hey, Max...
A guy gets on the MTA here in L.A. And dies.
Think anybody will notice?