My warrior woman.
She almost yanks my head clean off.
Shoving my mouth into hers so hard it hurts.
An explosion that blasts away the dull. Gray years
between the now and that one fiery night when she was mine.
A hardtop with a decent engine.
And make sure it's got a big trunk.
I'll always love you, baby.
Always... and never.
(Dwight) Where'd you find that heap?
Just look at that trunk. We'll never fit 'em all in.
Gail? Unless there's something else you want me to do,
you think maybe I could go home?
All this blood and stuff's got me kind of feeling like maybe I'm gonna hurl.
Sure, Becky, go home.
But don't you talk to anybody, not even your mom.
They'll never fit in that trunk.
Not like this, they won't. Miho.
Dry your hair as soon as you get home!
You'll catch cold if you don't.
(squishing sounds)
Yeesh.
Hey, Becky. Gail said no calls.
I just want to hear my mom's voice. I won't tell her nothing.
Please, don't say nothing to Gail.
Hey, Mom?
Dizzy dames.
What were they thinking. Sticking me with a beat-up bucket of bolts like this?
We were barely able to get the trunk to stay closed as it was.
We packed it so tight.
There wasn't anything we could do but pile Jackie Boy in right next to me.
Out where anybody who cares to look will see him.
Go ahead. Take one of his cigarettes.
It'll help.
It's got you smoking there, bud.
You shut the hell up, Jackie Boy.
You're dead.
I'm just imagining this, so shut the hell up.
Well, it tells you something about your state of mind, don't it?
It's got you hearing things.
It's got your nerves shot.
It's got you smoking.
You know it's true.
Nobody ever really quits.
A smoker's a smoker when the chips are down.
- And your chips are down. - I'm fine. You shut the hell up.
Will you look at that?
Ooh, those hookers let you down.
What are you gonna do when you run outta gas, call AAA?
You sucker for the babes, you.
You ain't even gonna make it to the pits.
You shut the hell up. I'll make it.
Not unless you keep your eyes on the road, sugar pie.
- Watch it! - (horn blaring)
Ah, this is great.
Just like being in a buddy movie.
Shut up!
(chuckles)
(siren blaring)
Boy, you're screwed.
It's over.
You're flushed.
This time, I can't bring myself to tell him to shut up.
Sure, he's an asshole.
Sure, he's dead.
Sure, I'm just imagining that he's talking.
None of that stops the bastard from being absolutely right.
I don't have a chance in hell of outrunning this cop.
Not in this heap.
Pull over!
The only question left is whether I'm gonna kill him or not.
Tough call.
For all I know, he's an honest cop, regular guy,
a working stiff with a mortgage, a wife and a pile of kids.
My hand moves all on its own,
sliding one of my guns to my lap and thumbing back the hammer.
- I don't know what to do. - You better stop. You're making him mad.
Whatever you say.
(tires screeching)
Your friend here... party a little too hard tonight?
I'm the designated driver.
Well, you're driving with a busted tail light.
I'll let you off with a warning.
What next?
The tank goes dry a quarter mile from the pits.
I shove the T-Bird the rest of the way.
A few minutes' more work and it'll all be over.
Jackie Boy will go into the damn tar pits.
I'll catch a train out of Sacred Oaks. Go home and call it a...
(gunshot)
No more questions, Dallas. Do what I say.
Clear the streets. We're in lockdown.
We're not selling any tail in Old Town.
Not tonight.
Don't struggle. You'll only hurt yourself.
Your cause is lost.
We know everything.
Soon the corpse of Detective Rafferty will be in our possession,
and the truce between your prostitutes and the police will be shattered.
There'll be arrests. There'll be deaths.
My employer will seize what remains of this neighborhood.
You will all be slaves. Nothing can stop this.
But it is within your power to save many lives
by facilitating the process of transition,
by negotiating the terms of the surrender of Old Town.
Son of a bitch! I know you.
I have suffered your kind before - the dregs of Sin City.
I serve a new master now,
and soon you and all your wretched kind will serve him as well.
Now, get dressed and shed a tear for Dwight McCarthy if you must,
because, by now, he is surely dead.
You don't know him.
My man will find a way.
He always finds a way.
I can't fathom these Americans always whining
and going on about how they got it so bad.
This is a fine, grand country.
Guiding light of the modern world, it is.
Low taxes, land of opportunity.
Where else would one bullet buy us the fortune that we're getting for this?
Sure beats the living hell out of blowing up airports and churches
without shite to show for it.
Yeesh.
You find something, Murphy?
Looks to be a poor, dead cop's badge.
It's all bent up.
What's this stuck in it?
Bloody hell. It's the bullet.
You son of a bitch! Bastard!
They weren't cops. These four.
They were mercenaries.
And if they were hired by who I think they were.
The bad times haven't even started yet.
And everything seemed to be going so well.
(man) Remember, we don't have to deliver every last inch of the man, Brian.
(Brian) You got a good point there, Ronnie.
Lend me your knife.
Should I take a nap while I'm doing all this waiting?
I'm at the bone, all right?
There we go.
Have you ever seen anything so pretty in your whole life?
We'll be back for the three of you, and if anyone happens by,
use your imagination, OK?
Silence. Now.
No air to breathe.
Only the horrid. Oily tar taste creeping up my nostrils.
Let it in. Let it fill your lungs.
They were counting on you and you blew it.
Skinny. Steely fingers at my wrist.
Miho. You're an angel.
You're a saint.
You're Mother Teresa.
You're Elvis.
You're God.
And if you'd shown up ten minutes earlier. We'd still have Jackie Boy's head.
Dwight, they got Gail!
It's a cinch. You got yourselves a spy in Old Town.
A stoolie who sold you out to the mob.
We gotta find out who it is and rescue Gail.
But first, we gotta get our hands on Jackie Boy's head
before it gets to wherever it's going and this whole situation blows wide open.
Miho, I hope to hell you left one of 'em alive enough to talk.
I let him know I'm not fooling around.
(groans)
We talk.
Stay smart. Stay cool.
It's time to prove to your friends that you're worth a damn.
Sometimes. That means dying.
Sometimes. It means killing a whole lot of people.
There they are. What do we do?
We stop 'em, Dallas.
Jackie Boy's head is so close to me
I could almost reach out and grab it right then and there.
(gunfire)
Get the head! Get the head!
I got it! I got it!
Suck on this, you stupid slag!
I can't tell if Miho is alive or dead.
But I'm on my feet and every ounce of me wants to get some killing done.
You want the head now, sweetheart? So come down and get it!
Brave lad.
I could've put a bullet straight down your ear just now,
if I hadn't got me revolver all wet and useless.
You got the drop on me, love.
I'm as helpless as a baby.
I got to come clean with you, sweetheart.
It was an outright lie I was giving ya about me revolver being wet.
You see, I'm not too fond of shootin'.
It's my preference to blow things up.
Once you blast the roof off a pub
and seen all the parts flying off people,
a little bang bang's never gonna match the sight of that.
And here's me, with all these fine grenades and such a sweet beauty of a remote.
But it's me knife I'll be doing you with.
You killed me mates.
Someone shoulda told ya - never give an Irishman good cause for revenge.
Deadly little Miho.
You won't feel a thing unless she wants you to.
She twists the blade.
He feels it.
I tell Miho what we're gonna do and how we're gonna do it.
I grab poor Dallas's car phone and make the most important call of my life.
First. We gotta rescue Gail. Then comes the kill.
The big. Fat kill.
(groans)
Do we just gotta stand here and watch this?
What, are you kidding me, man?
I could watch old Manute do his thing all night long and not get tired of it.
I mean, the man's an artist.
Only an artist should be allowed to touch such a beautiful subject.
Your skin is perfect.
Your nerves, responsive.
Beautiful.
Just give them what they want, Gail.
- Becky? - It's over, Gail.
There's no fighting them. Dwight's dead.
They got what's left of that cop we killed.
The mob's gonna turn it over to the police chief, the cops are gonna mow us down.
We gotta cut a deal.
You little bitch! You sold us out!
I didn't have no choice! They was gonna hurt my mom.
You gotta cut a deal with these people.
It's selfish, you holding out like this.
You're gonna get a lot of girls killed for no good reason.
It wasn't your mom!
We could have protected her and you know it.
It was the money, you stupid little bitch!
Sure, there's money. Sure, you could've moved my mom into Old Town
and let her know that her daughter's a goddamn whore.
Breaks your heart, doesn't it?
They offered me what you couldn't never offer me - a way out.
I had to watch out for my own neck.
Your neck.
Your precious, scrawny, little neck!
(screams)
You're crazy! You could have ripped my throat out, you crazy whore!
Schutz, fetch my blades.
- Stuka, kill this one. - No, I was promised!
Stupid little bitch! You deserve worse!
I knew there was a reason I got out of bed this morning.
Hey.
Nobody. I don't see nobody.
Will you look at that? It's right through me. Guys, look.
There's something wrapped around it.
Some kind of note.
Give it to me.
It's poked right through me. Guys, look.
- It's starting to really hurt. - Out back. Everyone.
And bring the women.
Do you think somebody should call me a doctor or something?
McCarthy, you fool.
Hey.
Guys?
Aw.
Dozens of them. Armed to the teeth.
I'm outnumbered. Outgunned.
But the alley is crooked. Dark and very narrow.
They can't surround me.
Sometimes. You can beat the odds with the careful choice of where to fight.
You can have Old Town, I don't care.
- Just give me the woman. - (muffled speaking)
Shut up.
Dwight, don't do this.
- Hey, wait a minute. Something's not right. - Shut up, or I'll plug you!
Of course, Mr. McCarthy. A fair trade.
She's all yours.
Now, if you'll explain to me why we shouldn't blow both of you to pieces...
Dwight, what have you done?
Exactly what I had to.
Every step of the way.
No! It isn't right! There wasn't no tape over his mouth!
How come there's tape over his mouth?
Where to fight counts for a lot.
Cute trick, McCarthy, but it will do you do good.
But there's nothing like having your friends show up with lots of guns.
No! McCarthy, you shit!
The girls all know the score.
No escape. No surrender. No mercy.
We gotta kill every last rat bastard one of 'em.
Every last one.
Not for revenge. Not because they deserve it.
Not because it'll make the world a better place.
We need a heap of bloody bodies
so when mob boss Wallenquist looks over his charts of profits and losses.
He'll see what it cost him to mess with the girls of Old Town.
The Valkyrie at my side is shouting and laughing
with the pure. Hateful. Bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter.
And so am I.
The fire. Baby.
It'll burn us both.
There's no place in this world for our kind of fire.
My warrior woman. My Valkyrie.
You'll always be mine.
Always...
and never.
Evenin', officer.
I don't have to introduce myself, do I? You read the papers.
This being an election year, you've seen plenty of my picture.
You know who I am and what I can do.
And I'm doin' you, Hartigan.
Cold and hard, I'm doing you.
You blew my son's ear off.
You blew his arm off. You even blew his nuts and his pecker off.
He's in a coma right now. They say he may never come out of it.
My boy.
He could've been the first Roark to become the President of the United States,
but you went and turned him into a brain-damaged, dickless freak.
Pullin' that trigger make you feel powerful?
Power don't come from a badge or a gun.
Power comes from lying.
Lying big, and gettin' the whole damn world to play along with you.
Once you got everybody agreeing with what they know in their hearts ain't true,
you've got 'em by the balls.
There's what, maybe 500 people in this hospital?
I could pump you full of bullets right now, and I wouldn't even be arrested.
Everyone would lie for me - everyone who counts.
Otherwise, all their own lies - everything that runs Sin City -
it all comes tumbling down like a pack of cards.
(laughs)
But I want you firm and fit and healthy.
I'm even putting up cash of my own to get you more surgery.
Fix that heart condition of yours.
You're gonna keep on living a long time. I'm gonna make sure of that.
You're gonna be convicted of raping that little brat, and shooting my boy.
And you're gonna spend the rest of your life in prison,
disgraced, destroyed...
alone.
Your wife?
You tell her the truth and she's dead.
You tell anybody the truth and they're dead.
They won't let me testify.
I told the cops that you saved my life and they just acted like I was crazy.
They talked my parents into keeping me away.
They said that you'd done things that you didn't do.
I told them that you saved me from that Roark creep,
but they won't even check me out to see that I'm still a virgin.
I'm still a virgin, still alive - thanks to you.
They got it all backwards.
Sometimes, the truth doesn't matter like it ought.
But you'll always remember things right.
That's gonna mean a lot to me.
But stay away, Nancy. They'll kill you if you don't stay away.
Don't visit me.
Don't write me.
Don't even say my name.
Maybe you won't let me visit, but I'll still write to you, Hartigan.
I'll sign my letters "Cordelia. "
That's the name of a really cool detective in books I read.
I'll write you every week... for forever.
Sure, kid.
Now, run on home.
It's not safe for you here.
Bye, Nancy.
I love you.
John Hartigan.
Mr. Law and Order.
Mr. By the Book.
Mr. High and Mighty.
I gotta give you credit, being such a straight arrow for so damn many years
without it catching up with you.
It's catching up with you now, friend of mine.
It's catching up with you but good.
(woman) Maybe I oughta look at him. He doesn't look too good.
Ohh, he's hale and hearty, Tammy. See?
He's the picture of health.
That Tammy, there - she's fine, isn't she?
I rented her out of Old Town.
I wanted to show you what you won't be getting any of, not in prison.
You hear me, Hartigan?
If you stop being stupid, start playing along with us,
you might just get some of Tammy.
You see that? She flinched.
You make her sick.
She heard about you and that little girl.
This is nothing but a price I promised myself I'd pay. And I'm paying it.
You don't save a little girl's life. Then turn around and throw her to the dogs.
Not in my book. You don't.
They want a confession. They won't get it.
There was a letter from Nancy waiting when they put me in solitary.
She calls herself "Cordelia. " Just like she promised.
She makes no mention of anything that would give her away.
At first. I figure she'll send another note or two
before her young mind moves on to better things.
But every Thursday. Another one arrives.
What a sweet kid.
I do my best to keep my hand from shaking when I reach for it.
She's the only friend I've got - the daughter I never had.
My sweet Cordelia.
Skinny little Nancy Callahan.
Eight years pass.
Then comes a Thursday when I bound from my cot.
Excited as a kid at Christmas.
Only to find myself staring at the damn floor of my damn cell.
looking for a letter from Nancy that isn't there.
Then another Thursday with no letter.
Is she all right?
Did something happen to her?
Nothing.
Two months now - not a word from Nancy.
Did they find her? Did they get to her?
Of course! Stupid old man.
Do your math. Nancy's 19 years old.
How long did you expect her to keep writing?
She was a saint to keep it up as long as she did.
She's forgotten you. Old man.
You're alone.
You're all alone.
This guy smells awful - like bad food.
Like a corpse left in a garbage dumpster in the middle of summer.
He stinks so bad. I want to throw up.
Practically knocked my head off. The bastard.
When I come to. I see it.
The same kind of envelope Nancy always uses.
But there's no letter inside of it.
There's something soft.
Something that ought to be alive - a hunk of meat and bone
that ought to be the index finger of the right hand of a 19-year-old girl.
How the hell did they find her?
She was so careful.
She never gave away where she lives or where she works.
(screams)
I've got to get out. I've got to help her.
Nothing else matters - not my life and not my pride. Either.
It's only one final surrender they want.
You got me. Roark. You beat me.
I say everything they want to hear. Just the way they want to hear it.
I tell them I'm a twisted. Wretched child molester.
I agree to everything they want from me.
I love you. Nancy.
It's a lot of miles into town, Hartigan.
- You care for a ride? - Long as you stay in front of me.
Prison's made you paranoid. Talk about water under the bridge.
Christ.
Eight years.
Yeah. Eight years.
Well, if it's any consolation to you...
you made me hate myself.
- Any word from Eileen? - Yeah.
She got remarried four years ago.
She had two kids. I'm sorry, John.
Don't be.
I'm glad.
Eileen always wanted kids.
She'll make a good mother.
Like you said, Bob - water under the bridge.
Bob and I get on with our fond farewells to each other.
Then I go looking for the only human being on the planet who means a damn to me -
Nancy.
How could they have found out it was you writing all those letters to me?
How did they find out who you are?
And what have they done to you. Baby?
Not a sound.
No sign of life.
Has Roark gone to all this trouble just to torture a broken old man.
Like a kid poking at a fly when he's already torn his wings off?
What has he done to Nancy?
It's like all she ever does is read and study and write.
No diary. No phone numbers or addresses written down anywhere.
Closest thing to a clue is a pack of matches from a lousy saloon.
It's a long shot. But maybe she's got some friends there.
A dead end.
Nancy wouldn't have anything to do with a pack of drunks and losers like this.
But if there's anything to be found here. The faintest lead to wherever Nancy is
or whoever kidnapped her and mutilated her. This is the place.
Excuse me, miss. Wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for somebody.
Cold night like this, everybody's looking for somebody, stranger.
It's not like that. Her name is Nancy.
Eyes to the stage, pilgrim.
She's just warming up.
Skinny little Nancy Callahan.
She grew up.
She filled out.
Nancy Callahan. 19 years old.
And here I was. Expecting a skinny little bookworm.
Maybe a bit too shy for her own good.
How little she told me about herself in all her letters for all those years.
How the hell did they find her?
Then it hits me.
They were bluffing.
I've led them straight to her.
She hasn't spotted you yet.
Turn around and walk out the door.
Lead the creep outside.
Get that Beretta away from him somehow. And kill him.
I'm just a horny ex-con watching an exotic dancer.
Just a few seconds and she'll be safe.
No. Nancy. Don't notice me.
Don't recognize me.
There's no time to explain.
I've made a terrible mistake, put you in terrible danger.
We need to get out of here right this second.
Whatever you say, Hartigan. Let me throw some clothes on.
And here I'd figured you'd forgotten all about me. Me and my dumb letters.
Kept me going.
Kept me from killing myself.
Hurry up, will you?
- (Hartigan) Maybe I should drive. - (Nancy) Not a chance.
Nobody but me can keep this heap running.
Besides, from the sound of things, you might have to shoot somebody.
- I don't have a gun. - Under the seat.
It's loaded and it works.
Yeah, this'll do.
Taken it to the range a couple of times. Kicks like a mule.
Hartigan, there's so much I've wanted to say to you.
You've never been far from my thoughts.
I've lain awake nights, thinking of you.
- What are you talking about? - (gunshot)
Keep driving, Nancy. Keep driving and keep the car on the road!
She's counting on you. Old man.
What are you doing?
Prove you're still worth a damn.
Try and keep it on the road, Nancy!
He's a decent shot.
He's got skill. But he's in too much of a hurry.
Throwing away bullets like they were candy.
He doesn't know how to take his time.
Aim careful and look the devil in the eye.
Stop the car, Nancy. Gotta confirm the kill.
- What? - Stop the car, now!
Right. Stop the car, confirm the kill.
Sorry. I got a little rattled.
It's OK. You did great. Sit tight. I'll be right back.
No! Let me stay close.
Nothing can happen to me when I'm with you.
Please? Let me stay close.
The stink - I almost gag.
His blood smells even worse than he does.
- Jesus. - And it's all over the place.
- But the creep himself. He's gone. - (siren blaring)
We're out of time.
The sirens - I used to welcome the sound.
There's nothing to do now but find a place to hole up for the night.
Get Nancy calmed down. And figure out what on Earth I'm going to do next.
The stink - somehow it stays with us all the way to the motel.
Nancy, I went to your apartment.
Your window was thrown wide open. The rooms looked almost empty.
That's why I was sure you'd been kidnapped.
My window? Robbed again? That's the third time this year!
I swore if I ever saw you again, I'd show you I grew up strong.
But there I was, just like before, scared and helpless.
- I'm such an asshole. - You should sit down.
You'll feel a little bit better if you sit down.
I've never been all that good with people.
When it comes to reassuring a traumatized 19-year-old.
I'm as expert as a palsy victim doing brain surgery with a pipe wrench.
It's always been you, Hartigan.
All these years.
It's just nerves making you say that, Nancy.
You're just exhausted. You need to sleep.
- Sleep with me. - Stop it, Nancy!
Eight years.
Why do you think I kept writing you those letters?
It wasn't just gratitude.
I tried to fall in love with boys.
Even thought I did once or twice.
But I was already in love... with you.
That's enough. Jesus Christ!
I'm old enough to be your grandfather!
- You're just scared. - I'm not scared.
No.
There's wrong and there's wrong and then there's this.
For God's sakes, you're just a kid!
I love you.
I love you, too.
With all my heart.
Cold shower - it helps.
No, Nancy.
Recognize my voice, Hartigan?
Recognize my voice, you piece of shit cop?
I look different, but I bet you can recognize my voice.
Sure. I recognize your voice, Junior.
Everything's gone straight to hell.
I've been suckered into betraying the only friend I've got.
And put her in the hands of a murdering rapist I thought I'd put down for good.
Suckered by a spoiled brat son of a senator.
It's all gone to hell.
Klump, it's me.
I got a dead man needs to be fetched.
I want you to set me up for a party.
I've already got the girl, you dumb shit!
Hey, it better be perfect or I'm calling my dad!
My tools better be clean and sharp.
It better be ready! It better be perfect!
I get to do whatever I want, however I want, whenever I want it!
My dad - I'd love him if I didn't hate him.
He spent a fortune hiring every expert on the planet
to grow back that equipment you blew off from between my legs,
just so the old fart can hold out some kind of hope of having a grandkid.
Although, as you can see, there were some side effects.
I'm not complaining, though. Since you've been gone,
I've been having the time of my life.
And now you've led me back to your darling Cordelia.
We all wondered who wrote all those letters.
She left not a clue.
Clever girl. And so pretty, so pretty.
A little old for my taste, but I can forgive that just this once.
Nancy, don't scream.
Whatever he does to you, don't scream.
She'll scream. I'm gonna take all night doing dear old Nancy.
And you're gonna die knowing that it's all your fault.
They've all screamed, Hartigan.
Dozens of them - maybe a hundred.
Eight years' worth. Every one of them has screamed.
And if there weren't so many people hereabout,
I would show you how I'm gonna make dear old Nancy scream.
It's gonna be one hell of a show!
(he chokes)
This is it. No way to fight it now.
No hope left.
No chance.
This is it. This is the end.
No.
Give it a shot. Old man. Keep your neck tight. Move.
The window - maybe there's an alarm. The window.
Keep your neck tight. Goddamn it! Stay conscious!
Stay conscious.
No alarm.
The glass! Cut the rope.
You can do it. You can do it.
(Klump) It is inclement upon me
to comment with marked displeasure on your rash impulsiveness
in selecting such an eye-catching and impractical car to heist, Mr. Shlubb.
Irrelevant to said mission is the following query, which I now put forth to you.
Wherein this most streamlined and trunkless of transports -
boner-inspiring though it may be -
wherein are we to reposit our recently deceased cargo?
I can only express puzzlement that borders on alarm.
Tell me where Roark takes the girls or I'll cut your damn head off!
In plain English, creep!
The answer you seek is rural, even agrarian.
The farm!
That's all I need to hear. Every cop on the force
knows about the Roark family's farm and to stay away from it.
Shlubb and Klump were packing an arsenal.
Once things get loud. I'll probably have use for the cannons.
But at first. I'll have to play it quiet.
Quiet and nasty.
Nancy's car - six miles from the farm.
"Nobody but me can keep this heap running. " she told me.
Good girl. The car stalled out on that yellow bastard
and you didn't tell him how to start it up again.
You kept your mouth shut. I'll bet Junior was furious.
I'll bet he slapped you around something fierce.
But you stayed strong. You bought a few extra minutes.
There's still a chance. Nancy.
Don't scream.
I ditch the car a mile or so from the farm and make my way through the woods.
I'm not halfway there when it hits.
My heart. Can't be my heart.
I was cured.
Bad cough - blood in it.
Doesn't matter now.
I don't have to stay alive that much longer. Anyway.
Rotten way to kill a man. But it's quiet.
Hate yourself later.
(slapping)
You're only making this worse for yourself, you stupid cow!
Do you think I'm tired?
Is that it? Do you think I'm getting tired?
You're the one who's gonna crack!
You'll crack!
You'll cry and beg!
You'll scream!
Oh, yeah, you'll scream, you big, fat, ugly cow!
You'll scream!
You're thinking the whip was the worst I could do?
That was foreplay.
Hartigan was right about you.
You can't get it up unless I scream.
You're pathetic!
You're pathetic.
It's not wise at all to make fun of me like that.
It brings out the worst in me.
Stupid old man!
In too much of a hurry.
Damn! It can't be!
Charging in like Galahad. Just like I told myself I wouldn't!
Stupid old man!
- You tagged him good! - Don't take no chances. Perforate the fool.
Good advice.
Give it up, Junior.
It's over. Let her go.
You're dreaming, Hartigan!
I get to see your eyes while I fillet the woman of your dreams right in front of you!
Look at you! You're about to keel over!
You can't even lift that cannon!
Sure, I can.
(laughs)
You gave me a scare there for a second there, old man.
Nancy, I'm sorry.
I'm taking no chances with you.
First I soften you up, and then it's showtime.
Here it comes.
It's gonna hurt.
You're right about that.
Sucker.
I take away his weapon.
Both of them.
(screaming)
Eight long years, son of a bitch!
After a while. All I'm doing is pounding wet chunks of bone into the floorboards.
So I stop.
So long, Junior.
Been a pleasure.
I didn't scream, Hartigan, not once.
I didn't scream.
I know it, baby.
You grew up strong.
By the time I get her to the car. Nancy stops shaking.
Her skin is warm again. She's herself again.
Thanks for remembering my coat.
And for all the little things.
Like saving my life, twice.
- You better get rolling. - You're not coming along?
No. I have friends on their way, to collect evidence.
I'm gonna blow this whole sick mess wide open.
I'm gonna clear my name.
I'm gonna put Senator Roark behind bars where he belongs.
I can't lose you, not again.
You'll never lose me, Nancy.
Nancy Callahan. The love of my life.
Shame to lie to her. I hope she forgives me for it.
Get Senator Roark behind bars? Sure.
And maybe after I've pulled off that miracle. I'll go and punch out God.
There isn't a prosecutor in the state who'll go after Senator Roark.
I killed his only son.
The bloodline is cut.
Roark's lost his goddamn legacy.
He'll use all his power to get revenge on me.
He'll go after me through Nancy. He'll find her again.
There'll be no end to it.
She'll never be safe.
Not as long as I'm alive.
There's only one way to beat him.
An old man dies.
A young woman lives.
Fair trade.
I love you. Nancy.
(Becky) Uh-huh.
Yes.
Oh, Mom, don't go on like that.
It's not the city. I could've gotten in a traffic accident anywhere.
Yeah, just a fracture. The doctor said it's a clean break.
It should be right as rain in no time.
Uh-huh.
Mm-hm.
(man) Turn the right corner in Sin City
and you can find anything.
Becky.
Care for a smoke?
Love you, too, Mom.
Anything.