What the fuck?
Easy, cowboy.
- Hello, Frank. - Can you hold on a minute?
- That's not safe. - What's not safe?
Some inappropriate driving.
You see, Frank? That's why I can't ever trust you with Sophie.
- Sophie? - Sophie, yeah.
That's what I'm calling the new car.
I don't like it. It's not a pet, Dieter.
I don't understand why you won't just let me drive the car.
It will need negotiating.
- Well, that means you need a favour. - No, I need a suit.
Go to that place downtown by the waterfront.
Take my credit card. I'm busy.
Always busy.
Sophie.
Give it to me.
Sorry, babe, gotta go.
Time to ditch this tailing piece of tail.
Dude can drive. No doubt.
- You need anything else? - That's all.
Thank you.
- You're late. - Just give me the address.
Next left.
- Shit! - What?
- What happened? - My shirt. It's ruined.
Whatever. You've got 90 seconds to the pickup.
I can't meet the client with a dirty shirt.
You're 100 meters from the pickup.
Bye, Carla. Jesus.
Rule Number Five, Frank, no coffee in the car.
Now who's late? Rule One, people.
Rule Number One.
- The drop's late. - Patience is a virtue, Frank.
- They're still late. - Better than being really late.
I'll give them 30 seconds.
Come on, you need to be more flexible.
They're Americans, they're late.
Drop the phone. Nice and easy. No sudden moves.
Hands in the air. Turn around.
Jack Perkins? What the hell are you doing here?
Surprise. I'm the package.
Oh, no. You're the reason I'm in the US?
No way. Absolutely not.
- I made it worth your while. - It's not about the money, Jack. It's the rules.
Fuck the rules, Frank. The wrong people find out
- I'm back, I'm dead. - Was the gun really necessary?
Precautions.
You never woulda got the drop if these were still workin' right.
- What? - Photoreceptors in my eyes.
- Done. - You don't fight any different.
- I still think I'm gonna win. - Ha, ha, ha!
Yeah, I remember that
from that close-combat training course you ran for us.
- Why you're still in one piece. - Not the only reason.
I would never have got out of that village if you hadn't come back for me.
You think I would have just left you there?
So... you just gonna leave me here?
You can't smoke in the car.
What? Do you think I'm crazy? Smoking'll kill you.
This'll kill you quicker. Take it easy with it, will you?
We need to turn off your cell, and your GPS,
any other tracking devices. Only land lines from here on out.
I'm not getting involved in Agency bullshit.
Frank, you're the only one I can trust.
If I could drive myself, I would. Please.
- Where to? - George Street.
- And where would that be? - I'll tell you where to go.
- The blind leading the blind. - Yeah.
- What are we doing? - Best Philly cheesesteak in the world.
- I just want a couple to go. - You're not eating in the car.
Fine. We'll eat in here then.
When I was working outta Langley, I'd come down here
2, 3 times a week. When Laura wasn't in school,
I'd bring her with me. That's the hardest part
about being in the field. Having to leave her behind.
She had a kid. Frank, I'm a grandpa.
I've never even seen his face.
Nearly 7 years old and I've never heard his voice.
It's time to come home.
You couldn't just have Laura pick you up at the airport?
- Complications. - With the CIA?
You're kidding. You're sure no one knows
- you're back? - I hope not.
I said no phones.
It's a burner. Dieter.
Frank, if the invitation says black tie,
can I wear a black tie with blue jeans?
- Is this an emergency, Dieter? - Yes, it's my sister's wedding.
I can't talk about this now.
- Do you want to drive Sophie? - Don't give the cars names, Dieter.
- Where are you? - I'm at a very expensive
men's clothing store in town and the guy was so rude to me I had to go out
before I smacked him in the mouth.
- Go back in. - Back?
- Talk to the girls. - There are girls?
- Yes. It'll be better. - Girls are better.
That's right, Frank. Okay, thank you.
- Everything all right? - Yeah. What could go wrong?
Someone didn't like their sandwich!
- Maybe their beef is with someone specific. - Beef?
You making a sandwich joke? That's good. Stay positive.
Step up. Step down. Stop.
How many?
- Three. - One more, behind them.
Street level. Firing from a car. No echo.
- Could you put that away? Someone could get hurt. - That would be the idea.
Jesus.
- Lucky. - Ha! Says you.
If you listen, everything stands still. Listen.
For breathing, clothes rustling,
footsteps. Even a man's thoughts carry sound.
- Can you hear what I'm thinking? - Loud and clear, Frank.
It's time to kick some ass!
- Frank! - Tie!
What's the deal?
Some shit went down in Eastern Europe.
A network was exposed, a bunch of agents ended up dead.
- Blown? - I thought so.
Only a handful of people knew about the program,
they were all Stateside. I ask a few questions,
- I get no answers. - But you keep digging.
These guys were my friends, Frank. I ate in their homes,
I met the kids. I couldn't just walk away.
Turned out every so-called blind e-drop
that I used for the last 3 years was duplicated to a site in Panama.
Someone was stalking you?
My guy in South America sniffs it out, turns up a data dump
with a shitload of information no one's supposed to have.
At least, not in the same place.
Don't tell me you copied that data.
I had to. Two days after I find this out,
my place in Prague catches on fire.
I'm not there, but a friend of mine is. He goes running out, gets shot.
Witness said it was by a guy in a green Volvo.
Next day, the NY handlers call me in.
I'm going to the meet, guess who's waiting for me?
- Green Volvo. - I'm being set up, Frank.
So it looks like you blew the European operation.
But, I have that data. Secure master codes;
NSA comsat matrixes; NATO tactical scenarios.
It's a whole heap of shit that's not supposed to be floating around.
That's the package.
Did you contact anyone at the CIA before you came home?
I reached out to one person, an old friend.
- You're not safe, Jack. - Why do you think I hired you?
- Where're we going? - Hartford, Connecticut.
I need answers from you.
Agent-involved shooting last night. Philadelphia. Thoughts?
It was all over the news. How do we know it's agency?
We know it's agency because it's Jack fuckin' Perkins.
Surveillance tapes at the shop.
- I thought he was in Europe. - The op went bad, Smith.
- What happened? - Nothing good. But he's here.
- He's partnered up with this guy. - Any hits?
Nothing yet. But Mr. Suit and Tie's a pro.
Fake plates, but he shouldn't be hard to find.
Perkins hired him because he's running.
- From what? - The question I want answered is: to where?
And you want me to find him?
Why else would you I call you here? And what are you still doing here?
And Smith? Keep your gun in your pants. I want him alive.
- Excuse me. Can you help me? - I don't work here.
Ew.
- Bonjour. - Bonjour.
- Je peux vous aider? - Oui. Je voudrais un noir...
- Would you prefer I speak English? - That would be great, yeah.
I'm looking for some stuff for a black tie.
Hm. What were you thinking of?
I don't know. Some stuff... black tie, or pants or...
- I think I have just what you need. - I was thinking the same thing.
We got a hit on the car.
- Just be careful. - Seriously?
How hard can it be to pick up some blind dude?
Jack Perkins was the Agency's top field man, fucknuts.
If he doesn't want to be brought in, you're gonna die trying.
- Why isn't the NSA handling this? - We're keeping this one in-house.
- Xavier was running Perkins though, right? - All East European ops. Why?
Hm. Just heard things.
Perkins landed in the shit because of her, right?
- Is this a straight-up hit? - She wants him alive, okay?
Then why send us?
Alive, fucknuts!
- Jack, stay where I can see you. - Fine.
- It's a very good look for you. - Yeah.
- Distinctive. - I have to call my friend.
I already know what I'm going to wear.
There you go.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
- Did you get what you wanted? - I got the outfit, I think.
- And a date for the wedding. - A date?
Well. Well done, Dieter. What are you wearing?
- I wear snakeskin! - What?
- No. - It's cool.
No, hot. It's hot. Not cool. Heh, heh.
- Send me a picture. - Okay. Just wait.
We'll have a picture. So...
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No!
- Why not? - Because, no.
- Tell the girl you need a black suit. - She says it looks boring.
Your sister will kill you, and then she'll kill me,
if you show up wearing snakeskin pants.
Okay. Thank you, Frank.
Okay, listen, my friend says it's not right.
I love it, but...
will you help me to find just a normal suit?
Not too expensive...
Sure, I will get someone to help you with a suit.
- What are we doing? - We're not doing anything.
- I want to see if we're on anyone's radar. - Hunting the hunters. I like that.
Here's the deal. You want me to drive you to the package,
you do what I say, when I say, how I say.
- Deal? - Deal.
Hey!
Footsteps on the pavement.
Clear.
Jesus Christ!
Tell the maid we had to leave early. Come on.
- I need you to stick to the rules. - The rules need to bend, Frank,
we need to be flexible. Be like the willow branch.
Please. Please, please, don't.
The guy in the bathroom, what'd he look like?
Black, well built, sunglasses. Chews on a toothpick.
I know him. Merck.
Wannabe spyboy. Works for Xavier.
- Xavier? - The one I reached out to.
The one who betrayed you? And is behind the Panama site?
He'll be headed for the drop.
- The one by the river? - The one he's always used.
He's putting up a hell of a fight.
- You're authorized to use whatever force necessary. - Understood.
- This is what we call a "dead drop." - What are you doing?
Great, huh? I mean, who would think to look here?
So, you got it?
I can't come back. I'm fucked without the drive.
Well, where is it, Jack?
- The drive, please. - I'm sorry, but we don't have it.
- Now I'll kill you. - Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Rolf, is that you? Listen, he's just the driver.
- Leave him out of it. - Rolf? You know this guy, Jack?
- Yeah, I shot him in the Sudan, once. - The Sudan? That must have hurt.
Rolf, somebody at the agency did tell you I'm back?
I got a call. A chance to kill the great Jack Perkins.
You couldn't handle the great Jack Perkins.
You remember that rigged taxi in Istanbul?
Frank, you should have seen it...
this Einstein sets a trap, sends his own guys into it.
Blows his brother's head clean off the shoulders.
Kill this blind piece of crap.
Jack, behind you.
Frank!
The Phoenix Claw?
Frank, I didn't know you were paying attention when I taught that. Nice.
10 degrees. A little more, Jack.
How do you do that?
- First, you listen. - No, not this again.
Second, even a nearly blind man can see a bright orange sweater.
The urn was attached to the plate. Broke off when Rolf hit it.
What...? This is it!
This is the drive!
You... he put it in the urn. This is hysterical.
Hysterical, yeah. Think we should get out of here? Come on.
So now we're at war with the CIA. Any thoughts as to next steps?
No. War's a little strong. I'd call it a skirmish.
Whatever you want to call it, I'll be happier when this is over.
What are you so gloomy about? We've got the drive!
- Well, what good's that going to do us? - It proves I'm not the mole!
Backtrace the file routes, you find out who is!
- I'm off the hook! - Whoever sent those clowns back there
wants you dead either way, Jack! You're on the hook more than ever.
That's why we have to get this to the right people.
And they would be...?
Great. Just what I thought. You have no idea.
What is it?
Shit!
- M-16? - I don't know,
could be an M240. I'll pull up and ask.
Frank?
- Those big SUVs are never safe. - I've always steered clear of them myself.
- Alba, I feel you're upset. - Why would I be upset?
I spend so much time here, and now,
I get only some white shirts and this boring suit.
- Well, at least it fits you. - What can I do to make you happy?
- A drink? Or a dinner? - Platinum cufflinks with diamonds.
- Okay, and then a dinner? - No. No dinner. I'm sorry.
- Okay, but I thought we... - Do you want the suit?
What? No... yes. Whatever you want.
Okay. I'm just a mechanic.
- You look good. - You too.
No cufflinks. Your sister will be happy. Okay?
- Okay. - I get off work at 8.
Oh, shit. Where the hell have you been, Frank?
- Busy. - I've got another job lined up. Toronto.
I'm still on this one.
I've been working on this deal for 2 months.
The client was very clear. You were supposed to make
contact 36 hours ago and he hasn't heard from you.
He's called 4 times already today and he's threatening to cancel the contract.
- What happened to the schedule, Frank? - Focus, Carla. I need you to focus.
Put down whatever you're doing.
Dodge Charger, 2011,
Delta Kilo Echo India 39574.
Wait a sec.
The DKE series is restricted. Level 4 security.
Could be NSA. CIA.
Frank?
Let's move. Goddamn state troopers.
Here, buddy.
- Who were you calling? - A contact.
Xavier?
She's the only one there I can trust, Frank.
I have no other options. It's not like I can put it in the mail.
I have to see this out, one way or the other.
I'm not hiding anything, Frank.
If I was dirty, I would've left you at the cemetery.
- You need me to drive. - I need someone I can trust.
I checked out others. Even ran one against you.
- The Mustang. - She was good, but she's no Frank Martin.
You know, I'm flattered, but you're a survivor. You'll be fine.
I dunno, Frank. Maybe that's what I came back to find out.
I trust the idea of a grandson. A kid who won't betray you.
It's hard to come back in.
Andy Gretz, hits the bottle, beats up his wife,
and when the cops come, he goes out the front door, firing.
Gets about 6 feet.
Sam Falstaff? He got so paranoid he couldn't even go outside.
Some pizza guy shows up, Arab-looking kid.
Wrong address, but Sam grabs him.
Fries his balls for 3 days with a car battery, until the cops come.
Now he's doing the Thorazine shuffle in a facility upstate.
I want to come home, but I don't know if I can.
When I left the service, I...
I worried, too. I thought I couldn't come back.
Are you back, Frank? Seems to me you're still running.
We're going to make it, Jack. That's the deal.
We saw the Audi at a gas station in Stamford.
- You couldn't pick him up? - Local 5-0.
And then the driver made us and nabbed him up.
So what happened in Connecticut? That was one of Jack's dead drops.
- The Panama asset must have given it up. - Huh. Well, something's off.
Who's that driver? And why the ambush at the motel?
And if he wants to come in, why's he fighting us off?
I don't know. You know how these guys get.
I don't want any more bodies.
Well, we could have taken him out at Stamford
- and you told us to hold off. - He's got something I want.
Just as easy to get it from a dead asset as a live one.
Why are you so anxious to kill him, Smith?
I could ask you the same question.
You know, maybe we should take it to the director?
Hm. And maybe we can handle it ourselves.
All right. What's the play?
He wants a meet.
There's the driver right there.
Gave your guys a lot of trouble, huh?
He got lucky.
Thanks for the ride, Frank. I got it from here.
This is your Plan B? Wait for them to show up?
Sometimes you just wait, figure out the play as it goes.
Beat it, Frank. This isn't your fight.
I've been thinking about a day at the beach.
Now seems like as good a time as any.
Hey, I paid for a transporter. I can't afford bodyguard rates.
Well, this one's on the house.
All right. But don't fuck things up.
I want Perkins' information. It comes to me,
- and only me, understood? - Understood.
- Good. - It goes no further.
- Jack. - Blanche.
And Smith too?
You're still wearing that shitty aftershave. What's he doing here?
This is big kid stuff, so get lost.
Further, jackass. Come on, I can still smell you. Get outta here.
- Hey, Jack. - You have a leak, Blanche.
I know. Give me the drive, Jack.
- Maybe you are the leak. - I just want you home safe.
Everything on this drive came from the NSA
mainframe. But your creeper left a trail.
Look at the source codes, find your mole.
Give me the drive, Jack.
Smith?
Get him, Frank! I got these guys!
- Need a ride? - What are you doing here?
Got a call from the blind dude. Something about a Plan B?
Nice move down in Philly, by the way.
Push over.
No, not him, you idiots. He's one of us. It's Smith.
- Um, what just happened? - It's complicated.
Smith!
Okay, man. Okay, you got me.
Hey, come on.
- If you listen, everything stands still. - ...stands still.
Who's the winner? Who is it?
Look straight ahead. Okay.
Can you give me a minute?
That blind Samurai routine is harder than it looks.
Fight the space. Don't fight the man.
Okay, Sensei.
- Thanks for bringing him home safe. - You're welcome to him.
- Come on. He's one of the good guys. - I was afraid you'd say that.
Ah! I never really liked Smith. He seemed like
a rich kid with a James Bond hard-on. Not a real agent.
Someone taught him how to fight.
Oh, no.
I didn't wanna say anything. Hey, he was never as good as you.
Can you take him home, please? There's someone he needs to see.
- Let's go, Jack. On our way. - Be safe.
Oof!
You need a clean shirt.
Jack, watch the goddamn car.
- I was wondering where you'd got to. - A little too much cop action for me.
- You got plans tonight? - I'm heading into Canada tomorrow.
- Oh, playing hard to get? - Who's playing?
I've been wanting to do this since Philly.
I'm sorry I had to run out on you.
- I'll make it up to you. - Yes, you will.
You know anywhere we can get a drink in this town?
Sure. You're drivin'?
Seatbelt.
You always wanted to be a driver?
I was going to be an accountant but the hours didn't work for me.
- Driving every day does? - Unless it's a night drive.
- I like a little night driving myself. - I'm sure you do.