Ja, all this is under control.
A hundred and fifty million dollars and my dope is on the way.
Today is gonna be a good day.
We are 25 degrees north, 84 degrees west.
The cargo's being dropped.
Good.
- Do you want to see his gun? - Yeah.
Bang. Bang.
Sorry, Johnny.
Fucking bitches.
Infrared's got a live one on the water.
Air Force Stallion C-14 to Coast Guard.
We've got a fast-moving contact heading 3-5-0 toward South Florida.
Captain, Air Force Stallion has a contact at 1-8-0 closing fast.
This is Coast Guard cutter Valiant. Request to know your intentions.
Vessel off our port bow, this is U.S. Coast Guard.
Intercept is 1-8-0, speed 1 7 knots.
Make it so, chief. Scramble the helo.
Vessel off our port bow.
This is U.S. Coast Guard.
Request to know your intentions at this time.
Incoming.
Valiant, Valiant.
This is Coast Guard 6-0-0-3.
Negative contact with target. Over.
Captain, we've lost target.
Here's your delivery and payment.
Is it done?
- Cargo is on Dixie 7. - Okay.
All right, TNT, for the millionth time, listen up.
Since 9-11, we've gone hi-tech over water. Dope runners have gone low.
Our source says the biggest X shipment on record arrives tonight...
...and we want to know who's behind it.
Hopefully in a few hours we'll have our answer.
We'll hit from three directions:
We'll go in with a water team, vehicle assault and we got guys on foot.
We cannot make a move until our UCs have ID'd the drugs and called us in.
No call, we back away. And these guys we're going after...
... they got a lot of firepower and they hate the law. So eyes open out there.
Brav o's on the move.
Heads up. Here comes the drop.
Fuck. My lens is flaring.
I can't see shit.
Brothers! Gather around!
Hey.
- Why didn't you say there was a rally? - Who's looking?
- Take that shit. I'm out of here. - Shit.
- White power! - White power!
Blue power, motherfuckers. Miami PD.
Aw, damn. It's the Negroes.
Casper, drop the bag. Alpha leader, bring them in.
Bad boys, bad boys What you gonna do?
What you gonna do When we come for you?
- Dude, you gotta learn the words. - We usually only do the chorus.
Alpha leader, hit it. Br...
Repeat your transmission.
Alpha leader to Brav o Four, please continue relay.
Where's backup?
- Alpha leader, bring them in. Hit it. - Mike, I'm only getting static.
It's all static. The radios are fucked.
- Something funny? Something funny? - Mike, where are they?
Got you, nigger.
- Looks like we got us a situation here. - You won't shoot.
You got a gun to his head, so you think I won't splatter you all over?
That's what I think.
My partner came here tonight prepared to die.
Hell... Hell, no!
Incinerating trash like you. Ready to die, right, Marcus?
- The fuck I want to do that for? - Scared, ain't you, boy?
A: Put the gun down, tell me who brings this shit in...
...and maybe I'll just pop one in your shoulder.
Or B: Keep acting all Brody and I'll put one in your chest.
Or C: You know, take the time to talk a minute.
You know, de-escalate the situation.
See, that's my partner's new spiritual bullshit.
Me? I actually prefer shooting motherfuckers.
A lot of movement going on.
Can't see the UCs.
- I think something's going down. - Don't move yet.
Mike, the man has a gun to my head.
He'll put it down if a hollow point's in his eye!
Your partner's a cocky nigger.
- Damn. Now, was that necessary, sir? - See?
He can't just be a cop? He got to be a nigga too?
I'll hot this fool.
- Calm down. - Calm down? I'm calm.
I'm calm! Hey! Whoa! Whoa!
I am way too unstable for that bullshit.
Stop all the goddamned movement! Everybody stop moving!
We can't let you all go, but this shit'll get worked out in court.
We got our rights.
Exercise your right to shut the fuck up.
I'm all right. I'll give you a warning. It's the best I can do for all of youse!
Okay? He's crazy.
- You got 3 seconds to drop your gun. - He has anger issue problems!
- One. - He goes to bed early for this shit!
Just to wake up to pop one in a motherfucker!
- Two! - Mike, no!
Gun!
Rock 'n' roll! Let's go!
Kill them cops!
Marcus!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Come on, go!
- Get down! - Drop the...!
- I didn't do shit! - Get your hands up.
I didn't do it!
The radios were fucked up. Get some medics over here. You guys okay?
- Yeah, we're fine. - What you mean, "we"?
Motherfucker shot me in the ass, man.
- Who shot you in the ass? - Who? That "who" would be you.
- Me? I shot you? - Yeah.
I mean, I was shooting. Yeah, I did a lot of shooting.
But I ain't saying I shot you in the ass.
I ain't saying I didn't shoot you...
...but, damn! Somebody shot you in the ass.
Tell me about it.
- Yo, man, how's it feel? - It's hot, man.
I can smell my ass burning.
Mike, you should give it a little kiss so it'll feel better.
Pretend like we're not even here.
Hey, isn't Ricky Martin having a concert? Get the fuck on.
- You always gotta go racial, man. - It's sad, man.
I think it's cool. It hit the meat. It ain't nowhere near the hole.
Two lousy bags?
What about the biggest shipment of ecstasy to come out of Amsterdam?
Let me worry about my snitch, all right?
It's a lot of cop work for nothing!
Take your ass home somewhere.
Tonight la policia jacked my mules.
Who can tell me how those jackals knew where to bite Johnny Tapia?
Speak up, cousins.
You're lucky they did not find my drugs on Dixie 7.
Change the boat schedule.
We can't. We got a shipment Thursday.
Change it after. Just keep them guessing.
You know, unlike you, my daddy didn't leave me no trust fund.
I got real-world shit to deal with, Mike.
I'm not in it for the thrills.
Same old shit, different day.
All right, yes, damn. I shot you, all right?
But you'd be seeing nothing at all if I hadn't made my move.
I don't know why you acting so angry.
- You're misinformed. I'm not angry. - No, you're very angry.
No, I'm not angry.
You are angry. It's okay.
I'm not angry. Except when you keep repeating "you're angry."
That shit's fucking annoying.
Like a fucking gnat at a barbecue.
Just bugging the fuck out of me.
Good. I want you to say:
" I'm angry. It's okay. I'll process my anger.
I love myself.
Whoosah."
I don't know what the fuck you mean.
Yes, you do know what the fuck I mean.
You're the one that needs therapy.
- I did my therapy. - When?
Capt. Howard made me do it after I shot them people at the airport.
Whoosah.
Whoosah!
Officer Mike.
- Papi. That's "daddy," right? - Yeah.
Whoosah.
Mike, you go to therapy to get your issues worked out...
...not bang your therapist.
- See, now you just talking nasty. - I gotta survive.
I gotta start loving me for me.
That sound like that group thing.
Maybe I did the group thing once or twice.
Whoosah.
- And whoosah. - Whoosah.
A bunch of men hugging and kissing, that's some cult shit.
Buy.
Ignore him, doc, he's blowing this out of proportion.
My ass is what's out of proportion, Mike, okay? I got a big chunk missing.
It's actually a small chunk.
This tension you bringing into this relationship...
...won't be healthy in the long run.
Maybe there ain't gonna be no long run.
Whatever.
He's seeing a shrink. I mean...
- Icepick, Lowrey. - Hey, brother.
Two bags? You embarrassed me in front of my people.
Wait, brother. No, no, no, brother. Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Whatever. You better pray to whoever it is you pray to...
...because you got 24 hours to find that X before I find you.
The cops hit my mule.
Well, Mr. Tapia, I don't know where the heat is coming from.
It's a delicate situation for both of us, isn't it?
- I'm telling you, I've checked them. - Alex, look. A guy's OD'ing.
I'm sorry, I gotta hang up.
Some fucking punk thinks he can die in my club.
Ecstasy fucks them up.
- Get him out of here, Josef. - We'll dump him around the block.
Dump him.
Auntie Syd, it must be so cool.
Young, single, living in New York.
Probably hook up with a lot of cute guys.
- Just like Sex and the City. - Theresa, cancel the damn cable.
So, Auntie Syd, you're a cop too, huh?
Sort of. I work for the DEA, but I just push a lot of papers.
- Nothing exciting. - Well, you keep pushing papers.
Don't have to worry about my little sister fighting crime.
Okay?
Possibly getting hurt.
James. Get my screwdriver. Damn bolts.
Ignore him. He's being mean because he got injured.
- Are you okay? - His wound is fine. It's...
...other things that were affected.
- Theresa! - What?
You... It's just nerve damage, that's all.
Y'all not gonna spoil it.
I'll talk to you about it.
It's a donut.
It's a medical thing.
I got it from a maternity store. You know, pregnant women use it.
They can put one cheek here. It take pressure off the other cheek.
- For you, dog. - Thoughtful.
Look, man...
...last night there was something different in your eyes.
You know, Mike, I had an epiphany. You know?
- I realized you're an enigma. - Yeah, I could see that.
God sent you here to test me. But guess what?
You not gonna break me, Mike. No.
Whoosah.
Is that Syd?
- That's Syd. - Now's not a good time.
Mike, listen, now's not a good time.
Hit me, hit me, hit me.
No throwing balls in the house.
Whoosah.
- What's up, Theresa? - Hey.
Aw, they ain't tell me it was a luau.
Syd, hold up. Hold up. Hold on.
Behave yourself, girl. Hey, hold up. Hold up. Hold up.
Oh, look at you. Look at you.
Oh, okay. Okay. I see now.
You didn't tell Marcus about New York.
- He knows about New York. - About us? You told him about us?
No, he knows about New York.
You know, it's a nice city and that I dropped a witness off last month.
Mike is so sweet.
- So sweet he make your teeth rot. - So have you told him yet?
Baby, soon, okay? Real soon.
He needs to know you're transferring and won't be his partner anymore.
Theresa, timing is everything.
Marcus is not very happy with me right now.
No, no, Syd, I'm telling you, that is Scarface limping around in there.
We need to give that boy a few minutes to let his butt heal up good.
We like each other. What's the big deal?
I'm just gonna go tell him right now, because this is dumb.
Hold up. Hold up. I'm gonna tell him.
It ain't like I won't tell him. How am I not tell him?
- When? - I need a minute.
Straight up. We're not vibing right now. I just need a minute.
Mike, he's my brother, okay? Don't be scared. Toughen up, chief.
Whoa. Hey. Hey, I ain't say I was scared.
Just... There's something wrong with your brother.
So, Mike, I understand you were in New York last month.
Yeah, I was...
- Remember I did the thing? - No.
You remember?
The two of you should've gotten together. That would've been nice.
I never told you Mike was in New York.
Well, you know what, Mike?
Syd, she's gonna be in town, what, another week?
Why don't you show her around? That'd be nice.
That would be so great.
Yeah. Yeah, I could... Well, me and...
Marcus, you want to show her some stuff?
Yeah, because I'm in town on vacation.
I'm staying at the most amazing hotel.
The view, the pool. Oh, my God.
We got a pool right here.
That ain't exactly a pool, man.
That's like a big-ass puddle wrapped in blue plastic.
Didn't they have any good pools when you bought this one?
Megan, that pool cost $3900.
Okay, so how much do the good pools cost?
- It's all right, baby. - It is kind of whack, huh?
I gotta go meet somebody. It was nice seeing you again, Mike.
Nice... Good to see you.
Where you going?
- Bye, sweetie. - Bye.
I thought you were on vacation.
So glad you could join us, Mike.
I'm telling you, spending time like this make a partnership strong.
Mike, can I see you by my stupid pool?
What's the deal, baby?
Why you gotta always come over here and try to take over, Mike?
- What are you talking about? - This is my family, man. Okay?
- What are you talking about? - My place of peace.
Are you taking medication?
You taking medicine for the thing, right?
- What'd I do? - Forget it. Just forget it.
- What'd I do? - Mason, go fetch.
Oh, shit!
Now, that shit is funny.
That's some funny shit.
Oh, man, hold up.
Yo, Lowrey, you hot.
Thirty-nine hundred dollars. Thirty-nine hundred.
You better pray to God you right this time. Yo, dry off, sweetheart.
Icepick said the Haitian Zoepounds about to do a rip. Let's move.
All right, guys, smarten up. Talk to me.
Eyes on, agents. Good luck.
This is 105.
They're backing in.
I got a good look.
- We got a good eyeball. - All right, we're in.
What's up?
You come highly recommended out of New York.
You did some good jobs for our Russian crew up there.
How old are you?
Old enough.
Come on. If you want to move this stuff you gotta do it quick.
Wow, nice getup. You can start to run these through.
I'd like to see how your machine works.
Ooh, that sounded dirty.
" I would like to see how your machine works, baby."
I wouldn't be so crude.
I mean, I'm more of a refined kind of a human being.
You follow ballet?
Three of my cousins are dancing with the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow.
I like hippie-hop too.
I gave you 5000.
You gave me 4900.
- I gave you 5000. - 4900.
- 5000. - Count it.
If you want to fuck with me again, find yourself another chump.
Okay.
- How much? - Three.
Look at this. Money everywhere. Clean it up.
Okay, we want to change a little over $3 million, all right?
How many jobs did you do with my friends up there in New York?
Quite a few.
How you behave with me has consequences for a lot of people.
You found me, not the other way around.
You need me to change small bills to large ones and deliver to a third party.
I bet he'd like his money in a timely fashion.
Delivery's late, it's your ass, not mine.
Here's 50,000 in 100s for your 50,000 in 10s.
Third party takes his million in these five briefcases here.
- I hope I'm not losing you, chief. - I hate math.
So for your $3 million that we shrunk for you...
...you get 2 million in clean money back.
Less our percentage: $300,000.
- I'll be delivering these to your dealer. - Alexei.
- What? - We're giving too fucking much away.
Yeah, we'll call the general, renegotiate.
He's a businessman, we're businessmen.
Yeah, call him.
You call.
Agents, we're on the move to the money drop.
Forward.
Hey, man, the truck's leaving. We're going to follow it.
Don't lose that truck.
Follow that truck. Follow that truck.
Yep, they saddling up. Look like Icepick came through.
Wonder whose shit they about to rip now?
Falcon One, do you see her?
Stand by.
I don't want to get spotted, take a burn.
Zoepound a bunch of pirates, man. Steal anything.
Black Suburban at 10 o'clock.
Oh, come on, baby. Park it at the top.
Roberto, she's coming to you.
I got her.
This is Falcon One, guys. I got her coming up.
Heads up, guys. I got an orange muscle car.
Looks to be three black male occupants.
It's out of our field of vision. Bring it up.
All right, be aware, we got three bogeys unidentified.
Guys, we got three bogeys. They're splitting up. They're moving.
Be aware. They're approaching... Shit. Shit.
- Fuck, it's a hit! - Shit.
Agent down. Agent down.
Roberto, fucking follow them!
- I'm on it! I'm on it! - Shit!
Stay here!
Son of a bitch!
It's Syd!
Move! Move!
Man, what is your sister into?
Sidewalk! Sidewalk!
Move! Move!
Shit.
- Shit! - I need backup on Canal, now!
You just get ready to shoot.
Police!
Stop the car!
Man, your badge?! He has a gun! Shoot him!
Mike, she's in trouble, man.
Move! Get out of the way!
I think I done just got mad.
- Gun! Gun! Gun! - Hold on.
Now show them your badge!
- This shit is crazy. - I know, right?
Move! Move!
Get the world down here!
Shit!
Go! Go!
Get out!
You, drive!
Go!
Go, go, go, Mike! Punch that shit! Punch it!
Kill the fucker!
Shit!
Move! Move!
- Don't lose her, Mike! - This is what I do!
Shit! Shit.
Definitely shoot that motherfucker that just...
Oh, man, my headlight.
Shoot back! Shoot back! Shoot! Shoot!
What the...?! What are you doing, man?
- That's my bad. - Shoot outside!
Pay attention to what you're doing.
These dudes is off the chain!
Jesus! Fuck!
- This is some sick shit! - Yep, it's about to get sicker.
Watch out! Watch out!
Oh, sh...!
- Oh, they are not about to do that. - Hell, yes, they are!
Go!
- You see that?! - They throwing cars! How can I not?!
- I'm just trying to help, okay?! - You know what'd be fucking helpful?
Just shut the fuck up and let me drive! Let's try that!
Hey, come on, man, with the screaming shit!
I'm concentrating on dodging these fuckers.
Just relax.
- That was a flip! - That motherfucker flipped!
- That one puckered up my butthole. - Almost fucking crushed my head.
The boat!
I lost them. Yeah, I've got your cargo to the backup drop point.
Attention all units, suspects still at large.
There she is.
What the fuck is going on, Syd?
Some desk you're driving.
Get over here, I'm undercover. And please call off your dogs.
I got DEA watching my back, so don't blow my case.
- We saved your life. - And I appreciate that.
What I don't appreciate is you two following me here...
...nearly burning a case that took five months to set up.
So now we lie to each other? Is that what we do?
- What do you want me to do? - All right.
- Fuck that, Mike, she's wrong. - Calm down. Relax.
Syd, are there drugs in that truck?
- There's cash. - Where's it going?
- I can't tell you that. - Why not?
Because I have a career and if I want to keep it, I have rules to follow.
What's that mean?
My orders are, under no circumstances share information with Miami PD...
...because they got too many leaks. - Oh. I'm Miami PD now?
You done forgot I'm your big brother, huh?
You know what, Syd, that shit you did was reckless...
...it was stupid and it was dangerous. Okay?
I'm telling Mommy. Okay? I'm definitely leaking that shit.
Hey, Marcus...
Syd, come on, he got a point.
Your brother loves you.
Not to mention a little thing called professional courtesy.
You bouncing in somebody's yard, you should let them know about it.
First time using your gun?
Hey, you handled yourself very well.
Too bad your partner didn't notice.
Thanks.
Think you get off that easy? You been working this for five months?
How come you ain't tell me in New York?
- What would you have said? - I would've...
I'd have let you know this job is rugged, you know.
It's dangerous. And if something happen to you I might...
Exactly why I didn't say anything.
Somebody's stealing your money.
The drop's done. I gotta go.
Thanks.
We gotta close this case before it get her killed.
Yeah, no doubt.
You ready to go back to the station, get our asses whupped?
I think we gonna be all right.
Fellas.
What's your job description?
No, you two.
What is your job description?
I'll tell you.
TNT:
Tactical Narcotics Team.
Keyword: "tactical."
" Displaying finesse and subtlety in achieving a goal!"
Tell me, gentlemen...
...what was subtle about your work today?
Twenty-two cars...
...and a boat, totalled?
How did you sink a boat?
We didn't sink it.
Whoosah.
All right, the positive. Thank God no cops died.
The negative: I got a police commissioner so far up my ass...
...if he spits it's coming out of my mouth.
But I know that there's always two sides to a story.
So, what's yours?
Well, I was at a family barbecue.
We got a tip that the Zoepounders...
...were gonna do a hit on cash or drugs from this big-time X-Man.
That's what they call a ecstasy dealer on the streets.
Marcus, I know what they call them.
That's why I'm captain. It's cool.
So you got the drugs.
No drugs. Oh, okay. All right. How about the money?
- No money. - Nope.
Then who is this X-Man?
Captain, I was at a family barbecue. So l...
We don't know, but we are going to find out.
Well, then all that...
...was for nothing? - We didn't do all of that.
If you look close... Watch. Hold up. Let me s...
There's DEA all over. Wait, the... Wait, hold up.
The DEA? Without consulting me?!
That's a DEA car right there.
Christ! Fuck!
Cap. No. Remember your pressure points.
Do my... My exercises.
- Holler at your boy. - Whoosah.
Twenty-one thousand? What?!
Oh, kiss my black ass.
It was the dashboard.
- You know what? - Better.
Yeah, you'll get your money.
Somebody's on they way with your money.
Is it possible we could discuss potential reimbursement...
We don't cover personal property. That's why we drive police cars.
So where do we go from here?
Zoepounders knew exactly when to hit the drop, where to hit the drop...
...so we figure they know where the cash is.
We find the cash, we find the X-Man.
Hey, I'm through playing games, all right? I have three cops critical.
I got kids dying on my streets from souped-up X.
I do not want these animals taking over my city.
Do you understand?
So I want you guys to do whatever you do, whatever it takes, but do it now.
It's not good, boss.
Oh, my God.
Fucking ratones eating my fucking money.
Carlos, this is a stupid fucking problem to have.
But it is a problem nonetheless.
Rat fuckers.
Boss, it ended up crazy.
This black chica working for the Russians was a maniac lunatic.
She saved your money.
She wasted some Haitians and got the load to the drop.
Also, Roberto saw these two crazy gangbanger homeys.
- Oh, shit. - Yeah. Chasing and shooting.
Old days, did I have this problem? No.
Just fly the drugs in and ship the money out.
Now American security's so goddamned tight over the water...
...and in the sky...
...that the rats eat my money before I can get it to Cuba.
- You see? - Fiery crash...
I can't even get my money across town without making the news.
Hey, man. Man.
Tell me...
...should I be worried?
- No, boss. - Shut the fuck up.
People is trying to jack my loads here in Miami.
I own this fucking town. You see?
This is my town.
Oh, my God. Pink.
Pink, niņa, pink. Pink. No powder blue.
Pink is prettier.
But the lady at the store said I look like a model.
You're lucky your mother was my mother's cousins.
Don't pay attention to Roberto.
Besides, models are filthy creatures.
You look more like an angel.
- What do you think, Carlos? - Of course.
- Roberto, what do you think? - It's fucking beautiful.
Talk polite in front of my little bonbon...
...or I'm gonna chop your balls off.
For real, I'm straight with all your spiritual enlightenment and that shit.
But I need to know if a crackhead rolls to me with a.9, you'll cook that fool.
No question about it. Shoot him in the leg.
Come on with that leg shit.
- Everybody deserves a little dignity. - What about my dignity?
Your crackhead will be missing a kneecap. I'll be in a body bag.
- So sad. - What's so sad?
Your untreated control issues.
It's not your fault.
What in the hell is that supposed to mean?
Your mama probably refused you her tit when you were a baby.
You grew up a malnourished high-school softie.
Got your gun, little tight T-shirt...
...and became a overcompensating tough guy.
That is the last time you will ever refer to my mother's titties.
I don't even want them up in your head.
You know, I said all that, Mike, and all you heard was "titties."
Man, you can't keep suppressing my spiritual growth, Mike.
You need to suppress my mother's titties out of your psychoanalysis.
You just remember one thing, my friend. I may not always be here.
What's up, Icepick?
Jesus is the way, my brothers. Step inside.
You just went number one on Uncle Mike's shit list.
- We got two lousy bags, man. - My brothers.
Haitian blond with dreads. Where is he?
Blondie Dread?
He's very expensive.
You and you have to do something for me.
Oh, you trying to get gangster on me like that?
- Yeah, he went gangster. - So we should probably...
- So we want to do the... You got them? - Yeah, sure.
Me and my partner, we're on the Miami PD tandem dance team.
We got a routine. We won all the local talent shows.
We thinking about going national.
You want to show him some of the routine?
Warm it up. Don't hurt nothing.
Yo, yo, watch this. Watch this.
This the shit right here. This is the shit.
- What you doing to my shop?! - Watch this spin.
Wait.
- What are you doing?! - Oh, give me some.
You're ruining my shop. Stop!
- Do the dance thing. - I'm gonna bring the house down.
Stop! Stop!
He lives in a pink house eight blocks from here on Carl Street.
One...
- Police! Get down. - Police!
Who that? Who in my house?!
- I'm the devil, who's asking?! - The devil is not welcome here!
You got to call yourself the devil in his house?! Shit!
You're in my house!
This is all your fault!
- You're in my country, though. - Fuck you, how's that?
- I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker! - Your country, my ass!
- Fuck you. - Fuck me? Fuck you!
You no problem!
Mike, do you have to be so combative?
Fucking...!
You calling me a bitch?!
Do or die, man!
A bullet in the head'll really mess up your extensions.
Take your bullet and eat that shit, man.
How about that?
What the fuck?
Sir, we just want to talk.
You want to talk?! Well, go ahead. Go ahead.
We're not lmmigration.
They can't hear you because they're still shooting at you.
Fucking Haitians in a fucking little-ass room...
...with fucking guns. Shit!
Got to make it home to my babies. Damn, now.
Motherfucker! You killed my brother!
That's a bitch!
Shoot them. Fucking shoot them.
They shot me. They got me, man. Yo!
Got you.
Oh, shit! Motherfucker!
They killed the boy!
They kill me!
They're killing everybody!
Motherfucker!
My eyes!
I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker!
Come. Come kill me, motherfucker.
Come. You don't take me alive.
You got three seconds to drop your weapon!
I got a present for you!
- A nice present for you! - One!
- Two! - I'm gonna kill you.
Don't shoot. Don't shoot, man. Don't kill me.
- Bullets and all... Excuse me. - You all right, man?
Apologize to that man. Apologize to that man.
Apologize! Apologize.
Hey, listen, I owe you...
It's just that, you know, you was disrespect...
But that don't mean it give me the right, though. It don't.
Excuse me. Whoosah. Whoosah.
Whoosah, motherfucker!
See, the interesting thing is he's the one of us that's not pissed off.
- I don't know nothing. - I didn't ask you no question yet!
- I don't know nothing. - Lying already?
- No, get... - How'd you know about the drop?
- I don't know nothing! - Stop lying!
Do you know anything?
I'm gonna be nice about it. Do you know anything?
Let's ask some other suspects.
- Hey, look, man, fuck it. - Let's try this. Let's talk to his homeys.
Hey, look here, man.
Can you tell me who was driving the black Suburban?
Oh, he don't know nothing.
His brains is under the end table.
He can't tell us shit, Mike.
- He's all fucked up. - What's your point?
Dead suspects can't say shit.
It seems like live suspects don't say shit either, so I'll hot this dude here.
- Save us the paperwork. - I don't know nothing!
I don't do motherfucking surveillance, man. He do surveillance.
He don't let nobody touch his camera.
- What's on that camera? - Trigger Mike strikes again.
Hi, welcome to Phat's. How can I help you?
- Miami PD. - Whoa. Cops. I love that show.
- We need to see what's on this video. - Absolutely.
You got a little bullet hole in there. You guys tell me about it?
Guess not. We'll put this in our central floor model.
It has kick-ass bass. You like hip-hop? I love it.
We freestyle in the break room. If you guys ever want to kick it, we'll flow.
We're gonna set you up on the wide-screen. Correct ratio.
There you go.
"Spanish Palms Mortuary."
Why would they be doing surveillance at a funeral home?
Is that a Cuban flag?
Right there. See the gun?
Never knew guards at funeral homes needed to carry them kind of weapons.
It just seems like we should turn it off...
...because my dad owns the store.
She got a tongue ring.
- This is like a porno. We're not... - Dude. Dude.
- All right? - Yeah.
Okay. Okay.
It's just, you know, my dad's gonna be...
I just need to... I think l...
- I think I screwed this up. - Relax.
- My dad's gonna... This is like a porno. - Oh, yeah. I want more.
- Okay. - This is official police business.
- What the fuck's going on here? - Out of my way.
My dad is coming. My dad is coming.
What the hell is going on in my store?
Son, how did this porno crap get on my videos in my store?!
What the hell is going on in here?!
- You all right? - No, I'm not all right, Mike.
Three days of this shit. Got my nerves all rattled.
My ass still hurts...
... from what you did to it the other night.
Oh, my Lord.
Yeah, it got rough.
You know?
I mean, we got caught up in the moment, shit got crazy.
You know how I get.
When you popped me from behind, I think you damaged some nerves.
Okay.
Now, I can't...
I can't... Now, I can't...
- Can't what? - I can't even get an erection.
What's an erection?
I tried taking Viagra, you know, pop one, pop two.
Been eating them like Skittles.
That poor man is pouring out his heart.
And I'm still flaccid.
Okay. I'm comfortable talking to you...
It's got 5.1 Dolby.
... about what I did to your ass...
...but you not getting an erection...
...that's a real problem for me.
- I just figured I could talk to you. - Yeah. No, no.
We're... We partners, but we are partners with boundaries.
We got a new rule.
From now on you can't say the word "flaccid" to me.
He's a mean fuck.
Look here. This is our little boundary box.
So we gonna take the word "flaccid"...
...and we're gonna put it in there with my mom's titties...
...with your erection problems, and we're gonna close this box...
...and we're gonna throw this bitch in the ocean.
And the only way that you can get to this box...
...is you got to be motherfucking Jacques Cousteau.
We cool?
Oh, shit.
We gotta go.
In front of my babies you got porno and homo shows up in here?
What kind of freak-ass store is this?
And you two motherfuckers need Jesus.
Cover your ears, baby.
Palm Mortuary, owned by an offshore holding company...
...which, after 1 7 layers of bullshit...
...turns out to be registered to Donna Maria Tapia...
...mother of Hector Juan Carlos Tapia, who calls himself Johnny.
Johnny Tapia. Shit.
Every time the PD goes after him...
...he sues for wrongful arrest. And, oh, does he win.
Last year he was awarded $9 million.
And got a dozen dumb-ass officers like you fired.
Well, he hasn't run across us yet.
We'd love to hear what's going on in that house.
Use your computer brain and tap the phone.
Well, that happens to be highly illegal without a judge.
We were thinking of something more along the lines of a training operation.
No, I can't do that.
- Get you tickets to the Heat game. - I need floor seats.
With thick-ass glasses you don't need floor seats.
He can see the game from the parking lot.
- I can't work under these conditions. - Floor seats to the Heat. You got it.
- Lakers. - Yes, Lakers.
Okay. Watch me work.
Hello? Is this the pest control?
Yeah. We got a fucking problem.
You know where we live.
- Yeah, South Miami. - We got it.
Got our way in.
- Illegally? - You got to put a word to it.
It's like, secret.
So y'all want to kill roaches?
- Illegal. - We'll plant a couple gypsy wires...
... find out what Tapia's up to.
These are your basic household bugs.
Dog, this is what we do.
- What's the sprayers for? - The roaches.
- Roaches? We got rats. - Say what?
That's not an issue. We can handle that.
We'll just have to slightly adjust our approach a little bit.
Nope. Nope. I don't mess with no rats.
Hey. Stop it.
- We're in. Get your head right. - Mike, I'm a grown-ass man.
Get your grown-ass self together and let's do this.
- You got a beautiful house, sir. - Well, start looking.
They're all over.
Those ain't normal rats.
What he means is that they're obviously a special breed.
- What kind of breed are they? - Big motherfuckers.
Disposing of the rats isn't a problem.
But we should ensure there's no breeding elsewhere in the house.
Yeah, at Zook...
...we like to work from the outside in, you know.
So we gonna leave these... Excuse me.
We'll leave these here and send in a special unit.
It'd be better to begin in the rest of the house.
You're not getting in the rest of the house.
We won't be able to guarantee our work.
The only thing that we can guarantee...
...is that these rats will keep fucking.
Giving off offspring until we find the colony.
Rats don't got no stinking colony.
Well, actually these are colonial rats.
What they do is they send out worker rats that are called...
Marsupials.
These drones, they're explorers of the rat world, you know.
They just looking for rat pussy.
- You know. - Are you fucking with me?
Hold on. You called us. We can leave.
But what you should understand is that these rats will hump twice a day.
All right. Down there. Just kill them and bring me the bill.
That's that bullshit. That's that bullshit right there.
- You see these rats? - Plant your wires.
- You're not leaving me with them. - Plant your wires.
Gentlemen. Alexei, Josef.
Oh, I really like that word, Johnny. "Gentlemen."
I'm just trying being civil. This is business, we can all relax.
- Alexei, would you like a Cohiba? - Why not?
Of course. And you? Josef.
I'm told you're a wine connoisseur.
I am.
Carlos, have Josef pick a wine and Alexei and I will have a cigar. Come.
- Where the fuck you going? - Pretty bad problem you got here.
I'm gonna head down to the truck, get some poison pellets and stuff.
Come straight back. No screwing around.
They're all over.
Nice place you got here.
It's Mama's. And it's a shithole. Built a fucking million years ago.
- Expensive shithole, eh? - Oh, no.
My new place I'm building in Cuba.
Almost finished. Everything fucking shiny new. Come on upstairs.
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit! Look at the balls on that motherfucker.
Roberto...
...the general's office camera is out. - Everything in this house is broken.
My wire's planted.
- How about yours? - Almost got three wires planted.
Mike!
There's a papa rat humping the shit out of this mama rat.
No, he's straight pile-driving her!
Now, how is that information gonna help me do my job?
They fuck just like us.
Where's the pest guy?
There's something going on down here.
Goddamn rats.
Yeah, they everywhere. Just like cockroaches.
No disrespect...
...but I do not wish to talk business until my partner return.
It's baffling. You secretly decide to pay me less and you talk about respect?
Let's wait for Josef. You know, me and digits.
Carlos, could you bring Josef in?
So...
...your partner is here.
Would you like to talk now?
Carlos, another box.
So you sign over ownership papers for all the Florida clubs you own...
...and I will control everything...
...from point of origin to sale. Okay?
No middleman. Especially Russian middleman.
With all due respect, Mr. Tapia...
...in my country, I see such things all the time.
I'm sorry for your country.
That must be some Cuban stupid tradition to put them in a tortilla bin.
Now, listen to me, you Russian punk.
I, me, Johnny Tapia, will sever your head off!
You kill me and you will have a shit-storm.
Should I screw your young wife...
...or visit your son, the soccer player?
My daughter knows your son.
- You're gonna regret this. - I hope that we can remain friends.
Because at the end, what else do we have but friendship, trust...
...honour.
Without this, we are no more than beasts.
The kitchen monitor's out.
What the hell's going on out there?
Shit.
I found something.
- It's a guy's finger. - What, did the rats eat the rest of him?
- What the fuck are you doing? - Hey, I was just looking for you.
I think I figured out your problem.
Y'all a bunch of filthy motherfuckers.
Blow out!
- What's going on? Shit! - Get out of the house!
This shit's got to stop.
Fuck!
We should go.
Go! Go!
Just another day with Mike Lowrey.
- Damn! Go! - Come on!
Roberto thinks they were the gangbangers...
...that tried to hijack the drop, boss.
How did this thing happen?
I don't know. We called the rat people and these guys showed up.
Maybe you're the rat, huh?
They tried to steal from me, and you let them into my mother's house.
Johnny. Hey, no.
I would never...
Nobody puts in danger my daughter, my mother...
...or my money.
Send him to the mortuary.
Johnny. Johnny, what happened to Roberto?
He killed himself, Mama.
- Very sad. - Write a nice letter to his mother.
I'll do it.
Okay. Bye.
- Yo, run the print. - Mike, stop playing, man!
- Run the print. - Don't touch me with no dead finger.
Excuse me, run this print. I need to find the owner.
Thank you.
Think you can find out what's on these shreds?
Of course.
We're thinking about ordering lunch.
Should we put you down for some extra crispy and a couple of grape sodas?
" Couple of grape sodas."
- Very funny. That's hilarious. - Isn't it low tide?
I think it is.
- Don't you have relatives to pick up? - What?
Yo, now you crossed the line, man. Okay, no, that's not funny.
We're fucking with you. We planted wires, we need some help. No bullshit.
I want you...
...to find out...
...who those two black puta de mierda are.
And I want them lying right here...
...in Mama's garden in these coffins!
And our mystery finger belongs to:
Josef Kuninskavich.
He was a lieutenant in a Russian mob.
Owned a couple dozen Florida nightclubs.
Tapia's starting to knock off Russian mob bosses.
Got something.
What you got, dickhead?
The computer matches half tones, grey tones, densities.
Sort of like a visual code-breaking.
Little something I put together.
The shredded papers was a photo. Some kind of boat. "Dixie 7."
Dixie 7.
- It's registered to a one Floyd Poteet. - The Poteet brothers.
One of the KKK guys we busted. You blew his ear off, remember?
Mike, can you teach me how to shoot people?
Listen to what we got at Tapia's.
The second-in-command is talking.
He's telling him, "Yes, boss. We found a bunch of fat doe fuckers...
...and we're getting them emptied." - Fat does emptied?
- The hell does that mean? - He has a meeting this afternoon.
- You know who I am? - Name sounds familiar.
Sense of humour. I lik e that.
Meet me on the sand, 2:00, Shore Club.
- She has no idea. Let's roll. - Y'all come with us.