- Have you eaten anything? - No.
Hey, look, what is this, a picnic? Come
on. Let's go, man. We got ten minutes to go.
- Punch me out, man. - You got it.
Any word from the LAPD intelligence,
if there is such a thing?
- Not yet, sir. - Of course not.
Because we're a covert anti-terrorism
team that is so secret...
that when we snap our fingers nothing happens!
Sheriff's department? Airport police?
Still waiting. But Interpol insists he's in Tripoli.
Yeah, well, you-you trust... You trust
that billion-dollar satellite, okay?
I'll trust a ten-dollar snitch at this point.
- Sean, look... - What?
Why don't you just give 'em a little break, okay?
We'll take a break when the case breaks, okay?
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah
For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth
Hallelu... Hallelu... Hallelujah
For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth
Hallelu... Hallelu...
Hallelu... Hallelu... Hallelujah
For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth
Hallelujah
- And he shall reign for ever and ever
- I never really enjoyed The Messiah.
- In fact, I think it's fucking boring.
- And he shall reign for ever and ever
But your voice makes even a hack
like Handel seem like a genius.
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah
Victor... When we... When we put this thing to bed,
y-you can brand the Fourth Amendment on my butt.
- Thank you.
- Sir, excuse me. Your wife is on line one.
Sean! A jet was just chartered. Anderson Airfield.
Guess who paid the bill in cash? Pollux Troy.
- Put one of our people on that plane.
- Wait! We still got no sign of Castor!
Pollux doesn't fly without Big Brother. Now come on!
You're 26 minutes late. The casing didn't fit, right?
Yeah, I told you goddam Dietrich
would try to pawn off some...
cheap-shit North Korean plastic.
Casing fit like a condom.
You didn't deviate from the plan, did you, Pollux?
Well, how long did you want me
to sit here twiddling my thumbs?
I paid for the jet. Save us some time.
That's what the boys are for, to hide our famous faces.
If I didn't love you so damn
much, I'd have to kill you, bro.
I hate it when you call me bro.
You guys are paid to protect him from everybody,
including himself.
And stay away from downtown on the
18th. It's gonna be a little, um, smoggy.
Okay, my passengers are here. I gotta go.
Let's go. Let's go. I'm bored. Let's go.
- Here you go. - Bravo.
Would you like anything else once we're airborne?
Oh, a peach.
Sit. Come here.
You know, I can, uh, eat a peach for hours.
Um, come here.
If I were to send you flowers, where would I, uh...
No, wait. Let me rephrase.
If I were to let you suck my tongue,
would you be grateful?
There's someone on the runway.
Get off of me!
- Archer. - FBI!
This is a very big gun. Fly the fucking plane!
Come on. That's it.
- Come on. Let's go!
- Goddam it. Don't play chicken with a goddam jet!
Come on.
- He's got Winters! Goddam it! - Damn it, Sean!
All units, pin 'em in!
Close in on 'em!
One of yours, Sean?
Shit!
Out. Come on. Go, go!
Goddam it, Sean!
Take off now.
- Fly! - I can't!
Fly, bitch!
All units, locked and ready. Follow Archer's lead.
What the fuck are you doing?
There's an engine out. We gotta stop.
- Move, move, move! - Get back! Back up!
Pollux!
- Cas! - Get over here.
Back him to me. Back him to me. He's mine!
Cas.
Secure the hangar.
Berkley, down!
Down!
Give up, Castor. Your time's up.
Well, you better hit me, Sean,
'cause you only got one bullet left.
So do you.
Wow. We've got something in common.
We both know our guns.
What we don't have in common is that
I don't care if I live, and you do.
Sean, that hurts.
You're not having any fun, are you, Sean?
Why don't you come with us? Try terrorism for hire?
- We'll blow some shit up. It's more fun.
- Shut the fuck up.
You watch your fucking mouth!
I'm about to unleash the
biblical plague "Hell-A" deserves,
but I'll give this shithole a break if my brother and I walk.
- Bullshit. - Oh-Oh no, I-I see,
I see. Y-You think I'm bluffing.
Maybe I am. But, then, maybe I'm not.
More importantly, what would you do with me locked up?
You'd drive your wife and kid crazy.
Say, how is your daughter, anyway? Is she ripening by now?
Your... Your darling Janie, your little peach?
Is she ripe?
Okay.
O-Okay.
Policeman, don't shoot me.
I'm scared, Seanie!
Well, I think you better pull the trigger,
because I don't give a fuck!
I'm ready
Ready for the big ride, baby
Well, Sean, looks like Elvis done left the building.
It wasn't my fault. Why won't you ever be on my side?
I am always on your side, but you have to give me a chance...
Now what?
She was suspended again. Some kid
made a crack about her clothes...
- She started a fight.
- That's right, Dad. Don't even ask me what happened.
Okay. What happened?
- Ah, I see.
- Not like you would believe me anyway.
Jamie, look, it-it-it's not easy, okay?
I mean, loo... You change the way you look every week.
And-And the way you act. Who are you supposed to be now?
I'm supposed to be me.
Not like you have a clue who I am anyway.
I have to work tonight.
I called to tell you, but I was on hold for
ten minutes, and I couldn't wait any longer.
I got him, Eve.
It's over.
Oh, Sean.
I'll make it up to you and Jamie. I promise.
I'll put in for a desk job... Well, I'll...
I'll do counseling, sit down, talk about Mike...
I'll do it, anything you want.
I just want you.
Well, good, 'cause that's what you're gonna get.
You happy?
Yes. Yeah.
What is all this?
Sir, the CIA sent this over.
I didn't know they catered. Send it back.
No, wait.
How about, uh...
What about to Anderson, Montgomery,
Berkley,
Pincus, Gianelli, Winters...
How's Loomis?
Uh, he's gonna need a little surgery, but, uh,
he'll be okay.
- What's up?
- Special ops. They want a word.
Aw, forget it. I don't have the time.
Better make time, Sean.
Recovered from the jet wreckage.
Found in Pollux Troy's briefcase.
Porcelain casing.
Thermal cloak.
Nerve gas and biological payload.
It's enough to flatten a square mile.
Then depending on the prevailing winds,
the fallout'll be a tad worse than Gulf War syndrome.
A biblical... A biblical plague to LA.
Where is he? Where is Pollux Troy?
Why draw the schematic if
you're not gonna build the bomb?
What, is it now a crime in this country to exercise the mind?
- I'm interested in bomb...
- I won't say another word until I see my brother.
Any progress?
- I need about ten minutes alone with this guy.
- Ah, give it a rest.
You got Castor. Just go home.
Look, we're not gonna evacuate the city on your hunch.
Look, I know Castor too well for this to be a hunch.
You know what, just-just run the
goddam bureau any way you like.
I could put an agent in his cell.
Maybe Pollux will let it slip.
Oh, come on. He's a paranoid sociopath.
The only person he'd talk to about
that bomb is his brother, and he's dead.
There is one other possibility.
Oh, God. You're keeping him alive.
Relax, Archer. He's a turnip.
Oh.
What if you could walk into Erewhon Prison...
and give Pollux a nice, big brotherly hug as Castor Troy?
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Let me try. Malcolm Walsh.
- I run the bio -cover unit for
special ops. - I know who you are.
- But you don't know what I can do.
- Uh...
Physical alteration. Augmentation.
Dr Walsh can alter the likeness, even
the voice of a government witness.
I think you'll recognize this patient.
We had to build your friend Loomis
a whole new ear from scratch.
What we're suggesting for you, Archer,
isn't a permanent transplant like that,
just a temporary trade.
Come here.
With the new anti-inflammatories,
healing takes days, not weeks.
Your blood types won't match, but Pollux won't know that.
Height difference is negligible.
Skin pigment, eye pigment: both almost identical.
We'll use laser shears for the
hairline, microplugs for body hair.
We'll do an abdomino-plasti... take
care of those, uh, love handles.
But all that's the easy part. Here's the real science.
This is a state-of-the-art, morpho-genetic template.
The inside is modeled on your skull,
the outside exactly like Troy's.
Then we fit his face on top. Not
a replica, but the real thing.
Then we simply connect the muscles,
tear ducts and nerve endings.
- So, you wanna take his face and mine...
- Borrow.
The procedure's completely reversible.
Y-You think that I want to do this?
- No. No. - There's no one else, Sean.
- No!
- You have lived and breathed Castor Troy for years.
I'll get his gang to talk. That's what I do.
What if you can't? The bomb will
blow, and Castor Troy will win.
Get out. Go ahead. Wipe your ass.
Damn, what the hell is that smell?
He shit in his pants. Where's Dietrich?
Hello, Sasha. When was the last time you saw Castor Troy?
- Who cares? He's dead. - Answer the question.
I know my rights. I don't have to answer shit.
You're right, but know this:
You're a convicted felon on
probation for harboring Castor Troy.
One phone call from me, and your
son will end up in a foster home.
I understand why you would use such a threat.
But you try to take him away from me, I swear to you...
I haven't seen him for years.
This reeks of you. It's got your signature all over it.
Maybe, but you ain't got nothing on me and you know it.
Maybe so, but I can keep you within city limits,
or I can talk to your sister again.
She's right outside.
Only this time I'll be nice.
Hey, Sean,
how's your dead son?
I don't know any... Okay, okay, I heard
something about the 18th, but that's all I know.
Great. So we got a date. Now where the hell's the damn bomb?
Only Pollux Troy'll know that.
It's your call, Sean.
- Does Lazarro know your plan?
- No, this is a black bag operation.
Strictly off the books. You can't tell
Lazarro, and you can't tell your wife.
Oh, God.
What are you asking me to do? Okay, let's see.
You're asking me to... to break the law,
risk my neck.
And you're asking me to put in the dark all the people...
that love me...
and trust me.
I'll do it.
Sean.
Sorry I woke you.
I'm glad it's you that woke me.
And not a phone call telling me you won't be coming home.
But that's a fear I can finally let go of, huh?
Oh, it's all right, Sean. It's okay.
I keep...
I keep wanting to move this...
over here, you know?
If it had only been an... an inch to the left,
Mikey'd be alive.
And you wouldn't be.
Sean, things are gonna get better now that you're home.
The scar won't move, but it will heal if you let it.
Everything will be better now that
he is forever out of our lives.
Eve, if I told you that I realize that...
that this thing won't fully end...
u-until I did one last thing...
Eve, something vital.
Okay... I... You're going back on assignment again.
This one last time.
Come on, Eve.
"I'm going anywhere," that's what you told me.
Oh.
You don't need me to tell you what
to do, Sean. You never have. So go.
But go now.
Sean, I changed my mind. This is a suicide mission.
Yeah, I know, I know.
You know, maybe this, uh...
this doctor... if he... if he...
If he can do even half of what he says he can do,
maybe it'll work, I don't know.
I'd become Castor Troy, be in control.
That's the part that scares me.
Doctor, I have, uh, something...
I have this scar... that... that...
that if you can p-put this back
after, after all this is over...
It... It's important to me. It's... It's like a reminder.
Sure.
Tito, please, hold this for me. Please.
Okay. Let's go.
Oh, G...
Oh, my God.
Hey, you okay? Come on. Talk to me, Sean.
Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!
- Sean! Sean! - Fuck you!
Sean, come on. Sit down. Sit down. Sit down.
Sean! Sean! Archer!
You're Sean Archer.
Sean Archer. Sean Archer.
When this is over, I want you to take this face...
and burn it.
Hey. I still sound like me.
I've implanted a microchip on your larynx.
It's fantastic, but you'll have to be careful.
Pressure, sharp blow, even a
violent sneeze could dislodge it.
- Just repeat what you hear.
- Peach. I can eat a peach for hours.
Peach. I can eat a peach for hours.
There's a scratchy tickle.
Peach. I can eat a peach for hours.
- Once again.
- Peach. I can eat a peach for hours.
- Perfect.
- Now, Sean, six days until the 18th.
The clock's ticking, and so is the bomb.
You got two days to get Pollux to talk.
Either way, Miller comes in, pulls you out. You got me?
- What's the matter? - Face itches.
You all right? Come on. Let's go.
Archer's gonna be pissed when he comes
back from his training op and finds out.
The guy is knee-deep in Georgia swamp.
You are now the property of Erewhon Prison,
a citizen of nowhere.
The Geneva Convention is void here.
Amnesty International doesn't know we exist.
When I say your ass belongs to me,
I mean exactly that.
This entire prison's one big magnetic field.
The boots tell us where you are.
621 to Population!
H-H-Hey, what's the matter, pal?
Don't you remember the little people?
- Burke Hicks. - Oh, yeah.
I bust...
believe Sean Archer busted you for
stalking the UN Secretary General.
Oh, no. Archer framed me. I
ain't had nothing to do with that.
No... Word was you got wasted.
You wanna see what wasted looks like, little man?
Pollux.
Yeah!
Out of the way. Central, there's
a disturbance in the population.
- Go to lockdown. - Hold that lockdown.
Come on, you pussy!
You watch your fucking mouth.
You watch your fucking mouth!
'Cause I'm Castor Troy! Yeah!
I'm Castor Troy!
- Castor! Castor! - I'm Castor Troy!
Yeah! Yeah!
Yeah!
Lock 'em down.
I stop the fights, not you.
That's two strikes for you, Dubov.
One more, you know where you're going.
- When I get out of here... - If you get out of here...
I'm gonna have you fired.
Lars, it's me.
Believe it.
Someone...
They took... switched my... wh...
F... Some fucking...
But it's cool. We're gonna deal with it.
Oh, yes, we're gonna deal with it.
- What's this about? - Dr Walsh.
I was just, uh, enjoying some of your greatest hits here.
Oh-Oh, I hope you don't mind. I-I, uh, I partook...
of your groovy, uh... your groovy painkillers.
You know, this is fabulous work.
This is... This is... Oh, bravo.
Bra-fucking-vo.
Oh, God. This is excellent. Bravo.
- Bravo. - What do you want?
Take one goddam guess.
I wish they'd play some of those salmon spawning
scenes again. I found them intensely erotic.
Fucking nature channel.
One more waterfall, I'm gonna foam at the mouth.
It's like they're begging us to riot.
Excuse me.
Not feeling very coordinated lately, are you?
Look, bro, you gotta help me.
I am so fried.
If the psychos in here find out I'm
misfiring, we're both gonna be dead meat.
Shock treatment? What's the matter with you?
Did they operate?
I was in a coma. Jesus, you're still so fucking paranoid.
Aren't they giving you your medication in here?
What was my medication?
Pollux, I hand-fed you those pills for years.
Vivex. I haven't forgotten that.
It's just everything else. It's...
senses, my reflexes, my memory.
It's like a tab of bad Quantrex.
I don't even know why that
fucking Yeti jumped me yesterday.
Dubov?
You had a sex sandwich with his wife and
his sister the night he was sent here.
I guess that explains why he's so upset.
Wow.
We're gonna blow up LA, bro. Ain't it cool?
Oh, right. Rub my nose in it, why don't you?
$10 million design, and now those
militia nut jobs get to keep their cash.
It's so fucking unfair.
That bomb you built does deserve an audience.
It's a work of art.
It belongs in the Louvre.
Yes, it does. Oh, well.
I guess the LA Convention Center'll have to do.
- What? - Thank you.
For what?
You are so fucking pathetic.
You got a visitor.
Ooh-wee, you good-looking. You're hot!
It's like looking in a mirror, only not.
- Troy? - Now that is between us, okay?
- But you were... - In a coma?
Nothing like having your face cut off to
disturb your sleep. Read the newspaper lately?
- You killed them?
- Well, beats paying the bill, huh?
Come on. I mean, uh, if a face-lift costs five grand...
See anything you like?
Tito.
I torched all the evidence that proves you're you, okay?
So, wow, looks like you're gonna be
in here for the next hundred years!
Now, I have got to go.
I've got a government job to
abuse and a lonely wife to fuck.
Oh, did I say that? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't say that.
Make love to.
Oh, God, I miss that face.
Die!
- Sorry, Agent Archer.
- No, don't you worry about it, Mr Walton.
Clearly he's, uh, had a traumatic childhood,
and, uh, thank you.
What's giving you the will to live is looking for revenge
Look at this place. I'm in hell.
I may never get a hard-on again.
Don't lose your head
Oh, yes.
There we go.
Well, I suppose it was only a matter of
time before you forgot where we lived.
Come on. Give me a break.
Every house in this block looks the same. Then I spotted you.
Eve.
My one and only Eve.
So how was your vital assignment?
Which one was that?
How should I know, Sean?
Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh, yes. The, um... the out of body experience.
Yes. That one.
- Where you going? - To the hospital.
- No. No. What's the matter? - Sean, come on.
- Oh, what?
- Quit teasing me. Stop it. I'm still really hurt, okay?
- There are leftovers in the fridge.
- No, no.
I want to stay hungry for you, my peach.
- Give me that tongue. - Sean, come on.
- What are you doing? What are you doing?
- What does Evie want?
Eve, I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.
"Date night fizzled again.
We haven't made love in two months. "
What a loser.
Come here, sister
- Papa's in the swing - Got your E-mail, Karl.
- The poem you sent me was pretty kinky.
- He ain't too hip
About that new-breed babe
- The plot thickens. - He ain't no drag
- Papa's got a brand new bag - Hang on a second.
- Come here, Mama - I'll have to call you back.
- And dig this crazy scene
- You're not respecting my boundaries.
- I'm coming in, Janie. - He's not too fancy - Janie?
- But this line is pretty clean
- I don't think you heard me, Jamie.
- He ain't no drag
- You got something that I crave.
Papa's got a brand new bag
He's doing the jerk He's doing the fly
- Don't play him cheap 'cause you know he ain't shy
- Clarissa left those here.
- Well, I won't tell Mom if you don't.
- He's doing the Monkey
- The Mashed Potato, Jump -back
Jack - When did you start smoking?
- See you later, alligator
- You'll be seeing a lot of changes around here.
- Papa's in the swing
- Papa's got a brand new bag. Ow!
He ain't too hip now
- But I can dig that new breed - I can do the j... do the s...
He's doing the twist just like this
Bye, bro. Drop me a line sometime.
Gonna be kind of lonely with Pollux gone, huh?
Po... Pollux what?
That big-shit cop, Archer, cut him
a deal for turning state's evidence.
Your brother's been released.
I'm Sean Archer. There is a
bomb at the LA Convention Center.
I'm Sean Archer and... Ow!
Tiramisu, tiramisu
- Sir, we just wanted you to know...
- We're all really sorry about Tito.
Oh, hey, shit happens, you know?
So is our star witness talking?
Yeah. About what kind of mustard
he likes on his tongue sandwiches.
If that bomb is out there, we're almost out of time.
Archer!
You made the deal with Pollux Troy. That isn't like you.
Well, when all else fails, fresh tactics.
Fresh? Well, let me tell you my fresh tactic.
From now on everything to do with
this case goes through me, understood?
Good. Thanks.
You're supposed to be snitching and making me look good.
- Look good? - Mm-hmm.
Seeing that face on you makes me
afraid my tiramisu might come back up.
Well, think about me. This nose.
This hair. This ridiculous chin.
Brother, we're going straight.
Oh, my goodness. Did you exchange brains as well?
The first thing I need you to confess
to is the location of the bomb.
What about our $10 million?
What about when I become an American hero
for defusing the bomb? What's that worth?
Know that. Thank you. Next question.
- You're not the only one in the family with brains.
- No.
- Although now I am the only one with the looks.
- Touche.
This is an emergency evacuation.
Let's go. Police. Go! Go!
- Any ideas? - Yeah, run.
Sir, it's protected by a tamper switch,
and it'll take us hours to bypass.
- Evacuate your team, Captain.
- No, but, sir, we can't... we can't disarm.
Leave.
Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Ha-Ha. Ha, ha, ha.
Oh, baby. Oh...
That was the scene at the LA Convention Center,
where an FBI agent became a city savior.
Sean Archer disarmed a massive bomb just
one second before it was set to blow.
The apparent targets were three Supreme Court
justices scheduled to speak here today...
and anyone unlucky enough to be within a mile of the scene.
We asked Agent Archer if the FBI had
any leads on who planted the device.
Well, that is, uh, classified information.
But if he... If he's listening, I
wouldn't mind giving him a message:
Interception. Now our side's got the ball. Sorry.
Wanda? Everybody.
Hey, look, I... I wanna thank you for, uh,
enduring all these years that I was an insufferable bore.
Sir, did you just have a surgical procedure?
- What do you mean? - Well, was the stick...
successfully removed from your ass?
Sir. The White House on one.
It's the president. Oh, and your wife on line two.
- Well, you tell the president to hold.
- Okay.
- I got it.
- Sean, you scared the hell out of me.
- It's date night. - Oh, my God.
Oh, congratulations.
Oh, big deal.
Okay, I said, uh, "Mr President,
"I want the authority...
"and I want the funds and the personnel...
to take over the whole gamut of global terrorism," right?
And he said, "The next name on my calling list is Lazarro,
and I'm telling him that Sean
Archer writes his own ticket," okay?
What's the matter?
I... I don't know, Sean. You just...
You just seem so different. I
mean, what is th... all this about?
What... This intimate candlelight dinner? Huh?
And I'm supposed to forget all the promises
'cause you're going back into the fray?
If the top cop in this country can't come home...
every night to his wife, then the hell with the country.
Because the only place I'm going is upstairs with you.
Exercise. One hour.
How can I get out of here?
You can't.
How can I get these boots off?
They only take 'em off in the clinic.
Right before they fry your skull.
Hey.
- I'm out of cigarettes. - Get back in line, Troy.
I said I'm out of cigarettes.
Kick his ass!
Hey, what the hell! That's not right!
I need a light! I need a light!
- Anybody got a light? - All right!
Anybody got a light? Got a light?
You better bring the bastard down
before he chokes himself to death.
Well, happy day, it's Castor Troy.
Wait. H-Hold it, hold it. Can I, uh... Can I have a light?
You know, those things'll kill you.
Get his boots, Walton.
Dubov, I didn't touch your wife.
And I didn't touch your sister.