JACK REACHER Transcript and sync: jcdr
It's life or death now, James.
And by that, I mean you're doing one or the other.
Up in Rockfield.
This here is District Attorney Rodin.
You want to know what he's wondering?
Whether you're gonna walk like a man or cry like a pussy
on your way to the death house.
See, the D.A. likes the needle. Whereas me,
I like to see a man like you live a long life.
With all your teeth knocked out.
Passed around till your brother can't tell your fart from a yawn.
Now I don't know what kind of man you are, which of these two faith you prefer, but
Rodin here is a a generous fellow.
He's wanting to let you take a pick…
if you save us and the city a long and costly trial,
waive your right to counsel, and confess, right now.
Sixteen hours. Has to be some kind of record, detective.
What the hell is this?
Who the hell is Jack Reacher?
Jack Reacher. Born Jack, not John, no middle name, he's a ghost.
No driver's license, current or expired, no residence, current or former,
no credit cards, no credit history, no P.O. box, cell phone, email,
nuttin'.
— Can you at least tell me who it is? — Well, I can tell you who he was.
Blood military, born and raised on bases abroad,
mother was a French national, father in the COR.
His first trip in the United States was to attend West Point.
Fours years later, he ships out for good. Iraq, Afganistan, Balkans,
you name it. Served with distinction.
Silver Star, Bronze Star, Legion of Merit,
Defense Superior Service medal, have to look that one up,
and a Purple Heart. He spent the bulk of his service in the military police.
By all accounts, a brilliant investigator.
Apparently a troublemaker too.
Demoted to captain, routes his way back to major.
Then two years ago, he musters out.
After a literal lifetime in the military, he just up and quits.
And then for only the second time in his life,
he enters the United States, and simply disappears.
Dead maybe?
Not according to social security, and a bank account in Virginia.
His pension is deposited monthly, and someone is making the occasional withdraw.
All wire transfers.
I can't find out where without a federal warrant.
Well, he can't drive or fly. At least not under his real name.
— Any warrants? — Record's clean.
Oh, come on. A guy this hard to find?
Gotta be wanted for something. — His record is clean.
So?
How do we find this Reacher?
Well obviously, you don't find this guy unless he wants to be found.
Excuse me sir. There's a Jack Reacher here to see you.
— Can I help you? — James Barr.
So now you've seen him, how do you know him?
Why wasn't he in protective custody?
That was an oversight.
More like some corrections, Frankie threw him to the wolves.
This is likely, but it's done, and we can't undo it.
— So what happens now? — Well, now he's in a coma.
We'll try it when he wakes up. If I wakes up.
Okay? Now it's your turn, Reacher. Why did he call you as a witness?
— I don't believe he did. — I believe he asked for you by name.
Any chance I can look at the evidence?
— No way, no till you answer some questions— — Nice meeting you.
— Hey, Hey! — Mr. Reacher.
— Hey, Hey, stop! — Mr. Reacher!
Stop right there, we had a deal!
I take you to Barr, you tell me what you know.
I know you said he shot five people, I know he's in a coma,
I know there's a bus station three miles away, and I can walk there in 24 minutes.
You're just gonna walk out on your friend?
— He's not my friend. — Why did he ask for you then?
For the same reason he shot five people. He's crazy.
— Hey, hold on. — Don't do that.
Well, this is a new low, even for both of you.
You do not talk to my client without me present, you know that.
We weren't talking to your client, he is a coma, for Christ sakes.
— You're Barr's attorney? — Helen Rodin, Jack Reacher.
— Jack Reacher? — Helen Rodin?
Yeah, she's the District Attorney's daughter.
— It's a good story, actually. — I'd like to hear it.
How did you find him? How did they find you?
You can't be talking to this man. Two strikes in one day—
— It's not what it looks like— — He came to us.
You went to the D.A.?
— Is there a law against that? — None you're currently breaking.
Now, before this gets awkward. Uhm hey.
Say uh, see you in court, for me. — Goodbye detective.
— Good meetin' you. — Likewise.
Let's go.
So…
So you're Jack Reacher.
— So you're the D.A.'s daughter. — Oh Jesus, please.
Is that even legal?
— Fortunately. — How does that happen?
— I'll tell you after your deposition. — You don't want to depose me.
— Oh, you're my only defense witness. — I'm not a defense witness.
Your friend James thinks you are.
He's not my friend, why does everyone assume that?
Well, why else would he ask for you? Why would you come here to help him?
I didn't come here to help him. I came here to bury him.
Linsky.
Who the hell is Jack Reacher?
So why are you so hard to find?
— I'm impossible to find. — Why is that?
We could say it started as and exercise, it became an addiction.
Are you on the run?
My bus is leaving, you better hurry, counselor.
How do you know James Barr?
— Why're you representing him? — I'm a lawyer.
So is a public defender, which is as much chance of clearing Barr.
I'm not trying to clear him. I am just trying to keep him off death row.
— By proving he's insane? — Well that's one option.
And sticking at your father, because—
No, not my father, the office of the District Attorney—
because the office of the District Attorney never bought you a pony.
D.A. Rodin has never lost a capital case, you know why?
— Impeccable tailoring. — He never picks a fight he can't win.
Worked for the Red Barron.
Every murder suspect in this town is given a choice: confess or face death,
against the D.A. who never loses.
My firm has reason to believe more than one innocent man's gone down without a fight.
Oh good.
You're an idealist. — No, I'm a pacifist.
It's a noble crusade. But this is not the fight, trust me.
James Barr is guilty. — You haven't even seen the evidence.
This is a privileged conversation?
Of course, it's a client conference, nothing you say here can be repeated.
There are four types of people joining the military.
For some, it's a family trade.
Others are patriots, eager to serve.
Next you have those who just need a job.
Then there's the kind who want a legal mean of killing other people.
James Barr is one of those.
He made snipper, trained hard, 2,000 rounds a week.
And with every shot, he's taught to visualize
the base of a man skull through his reticle.
The sweet spot where the medulla meets the spine.
Visualize that puff pink mist.
Finally he's deployed in Iraq. He's put on overwatch.
All day long he stares through his scope for civilians.
Women. Children.
Day in day out, for two long years,
without ever one's being cleared to fire a single shot.
Then comes the drawdown.
For James Barr, the war's over.
2,000 rounds a week.
A quarter million rounds in his career, not one at a human target.
You've been hungry, been horny, you've had an itch you can't scratch.
Imagine that feeling, days, weeks, years.
Imagine that feeling times 200,000 plus 50,000 more.
Imagine it's 130 degrees on the deck and tomorrow you're going home,
and you know if you don't scratch that itch now, you never will.
You need a release.
You need a target.
And the 'who' of it never once enters your mind.
Covered his tracks well, just like sane people do.
Almost got a way with it too. But I caught him.
And he confessed.
So why didn't he go to prison?
What Barr didn't know that day, was the four civilian contractors he picked off,
just spent the week in what they call a “rape rally”.
It was 28 women, ages 54 and down to 11.
Those are just ones I could find before the case was shut down.
See, the deeper I dug, the uglier I got,
and after seven long years of mission accomplished,
someone in the corporation just wanted the whole thing going quietly.
They charged up the 'fog of war', let the murders go away.
This is classified information.
And that's why they're privileged.
But you are ready to tell this to the DA?
The last time I saw Barr, I made him a promise.
And when I saw his name on the news, I came here to keep it.
But now I know I don't have to. — How can you be sure?
You still haven't seen the evidence? — Your father has.
And he doesn't pick a fight he can't win.
Barr's not getting away with the murder again.
He might… He suffers a severe brain injury in state custody.
When he wakes up, if he wakes up, he may not remember the event.
He may not remember anything at all.
This case won't be about James Barr's guilt or innocence.
It'll be about his ability to stand trial.
After everything I just told you, you still want to defend him?
I wanna see he gets a fair trial.
You said he confessed in Bagdad.
He didn't confess this time.
— This time, he knows better. — This time he asked for you.
I wanna know why.
You wanna know why, I can see it eating you.
And you can't ask Barr, and the D.A. won't let you see the evidence.
My lead investigator has complete access to the evidence. All of it.
— So where's your lead investigator? — About to catch a bus out of town.
Thanks for the coffee, counselor.
You understand you're not just asking me to look at the evidence.
You're asking me to look at a cold-blooded killer.
A man I know to be guilty, a man you wanna keep off death row.
You're asking me to look at him objectively.
Yes, that is what I'm asking.
I'll do it, on one condition.
Name it.
You have to look at the victims, objectively.
How do you suggest I do that?
— Yes? — Mr. Ferier?
I'm Helen Rodin, we spoke on the phone.
Of course, you…
You said you're defending the man who k…
That man.
I represent James Barr, yes.
And you have questions about my daughter?
I do.
What for?
I was hoping to get a better sense of who the victims were as—
That is to say, who they were as people, as human beings.
That's a bit unusual considering your position, isn't it?
That is true.
Normally, someone in my position
would want the jury to know as little as possible about the—
The people that your client killed.
In cold blood.
Have you spoken with the other families?
Uh yes, some. The ones who would speak with me.
— Come in. — Thank you.
Chrissy was a nanny.
He shot a little girl within that day. — Yes, I know.
Are you gonna go to talk with that child?
No, of course not, I…
Why not?
— Oh, I think it would be… — Insensitive?
Inappropriate?
Everything that you want to know about my daughter…
is right here.
The gazette did a nice piece on her…
Their obituary does the rest.
Thank you, I—I'll definitely have a look.
You're a good attorney, Miss Rodin?
— That's not really for me to— — Just… answer the question.
Yes, I suppose I… I am pretty good.
Good enough to keep that man off death row?
You know,
I think that maybe I should go. — You stay where you are.
That man deserves to die, miss Rodin.
Why would you defend him?
I can see that I made a terrible mistake.
And I'm very very sorry, and I promise that I won't bother you again.
— Oh, Dad. — What the hell are you doing?
— What am I… Why? — Is it true?
You're talking to the victims families, you, alone?
How do you know that? How did you find me?
I'm the District Attorney, it's my business to know.
That's not an answer!
Oh. Well, you're not the only one with crack investigators, Helen.
That's right, I know about Reacher.
Your lead investigator is a war veteran who's been missing for the last two years.
How can you vouch for his state of mind?
How can you trust anything he tells you? You don't know the man.
Tell me this. Does he know you can't pay him?
That your own firm didn't want this case? That nobody wants this case.
You never even spoke to your client before he wound up in a coma.
Oh, now listen to me, listen. Listen, I'm speaking as your father.
Whatever our differences have been in the past, you've got to listen to me now.
You're making a terrible mistake.
You cannot win this case.
You're gonna ruin your career. Why, for what?
To hurt me?
To change me? Helen— — Don't touch me.
Thanks for letting me take a look.
Hey.
We love it when a friend of the accused tries to tear up our work to shreds.
— He's not my friend. — So you keep saying.
Found any holes?
Well, you didn't have to put him in a hospital.
Other than that, damn fine police work. It's open and shut.
What can I say?
The scene was a gold mine. — Come on.
Now we both know gold's only as good as the man digging.
Yeah well, any time you wanna come back, take a look at this stuff—
— No thanks, don't need to. — You never took any notes.
Oh, I don't need to.
So you were some real hot shit in the army, huh?
I did alright.
So what does an army cop do mostly? Break up bar fights?
Oh, I did what you do pretty much. With one minor difference.
— What's that? — Every suspect was a trained killer.
Thanks again.
Why do you think he paid for parking?
Pardon?
He's about to fire six shots into a crowd of strangers.
And he's worried about the meter maid?
Simple loony won't do for you?
I like to have at least one alternate theory.
Huh.
Habit.
Muscle memory.
I don't think he knew he was doing it.
Like I said, it's damn fine work.
Hey army!
What's the serial number on the rifle?
What's the date on the quarter?
1968.
Forest 'fore the trees, Detective.
Forest 'fore the trees.
Mind if I share your table?
I'm Sandy. — So was I. Last week.
On a beach in Florida.
What's your name?
Jimmy Reese.
You don't look like a Jimmy.
What do I look like?
I don't know. But not a Jimmy.
So you live in town?
Usually.
It's kind of loud in here.
D'you wanna maybe go some place quieter? I have a car.
Are you old enough to drive?
I'm old enough to do a lot of things.
I'm out of budget, Sandy.
What?
I can't afford you.
— I'm not a hooker. — Oh then I really can't afford you.
Seriously, I work at the auto parts store.
What I mean is the cheapest woman tends to be the one you pay for.
— I am not a hooker! — No, a hooker would get the joke.
— What's this? — He called me a whore.
Is that true?
No, nobody said a whore, she inferred hooker,
but I meant slut. — Hey, that's her sister.
She a good kisser?
Hey. Outside.
— Pay your check first. — I'll pay it later.
You won't be able to.
— D'you think? — All the time. You should try it.
It's a great joke, but I'm gonna beat your ass.
Do you want to do that here or outside?
Outside.
Stay here, Sandy.
I don't mind the sight of blood.
What it means, you're not pregnant anyway.
You still think you're funny now, creep?
Shut your mouth, Sandy! No one is talking to you!
It's your last chance to walk away.
Are you kidding, it's five against one.
It's three against one.
How do you figure?
Well, once I take out the leader, which is you…
I'll have to contend with one or two enthusiastic wing men.
The last two guys always run.
Oh you uh, you done this before?
It's getting late.
Remember… You wanted this.
It's okay. You're okay. Get up!
Okay. Now we know who's two.
Let's get this done.
Really?
On the ground!
That's a pretty impressive response time, fellas.
Do it!
Hands behind your back.
Who hired you?
Let's go.
— Hey Helen. — Am I wearing too much perfume?
Breathing too strongly. Detective Emerson!
Somebody dead? — And if someone is?
Then they died of shame. 'Cos I was being gentle.
I start to understand why you move around a lot, Reacher.
So no one's dead.
One guy he likely will never walk right again.
— You wanna charge me? — Very much.
— But no one's pressing? — Sadly, no.
Am I free to go?
Hey, Emerson.
4‒8‒6‒2‒6‒8‒1.
— What's that? — It's the serial number.
Barr's rifle.
You're working for me, you understand that?
So everything you do, is a reflection on my firm, on me!
— How sad. — You're talking to a lawyer.
There was this girl. She came on to me. Picked the fight.
— Oh, which never happens in a bar. — She was strung when I told her my name.
— She was expecting Mike Tyson? — She wasn't expecting Jimmy Reese.
Yankee second basement.
Why did you say you're a yankee second basement?
I always use yankee second basement.
I didn't say I was a yankee second basement. I just said…
But…
the point is, she was expecting to hear Jack Reacher, she knew who I was.
And the cops were roaming before the fight even started.
Those five guys are her brothers? Come on.
Someone set those boys to put me down.
Who?
If someone followed you at the River today, it was probably a cop.
— And I highly doubt. — There's three things cops never do;
they don't vote democrats, they don't drive Cadillacs…
and they never use personal vehicles.
It's not a cop. — P.I. then, or the D.A.'s office.
Do you think your father's office would set me up?
Why would anyone set you up?
— How was your day? — It went exactly the way I think…
you hoped it would.
Are you okay?
What'd your learned?
Chrissy Ferier was 22.
A nanny, caring for the 6–year old daughter of a family friends.
She'd finally saved enough money for a trip to China.
In fact, she should have left the week before.
But the girl she cared for wanted Chrissy to stay for her seventh birthday.
They were gone that day to shop for a party dress.
Rita Coronado worked as a cleaning lady at the RiverCross Plaza.
She was usually late for work, but she had a good reason.
Since her son Marco was nine years old,
she had to personally drop him at school to make sure he actually went.
But her dedication had paid off. Marco was now an honor student.
As a reward for all his hard work,
Rita was taking him to his first baseball game.
And she was on her way to pick up the tickets that very afternoon.
Nancy Holds last words to her husband were a lie.
She told him she was taking her car to be serviced,
but in fact she was headed downtown.
She told the clerk she didn't want the purchase showing up on her credit card.
She wanted to surprise her husband for their tenth anniversary…
just a few days away.
Oline Archer never liked her husband's construction business.
Even after helping him become one of the largest contractors in the county.
So it came as a relief when his failing health and a costly lawsuit
were forcing them to sell to the competition.
Her husband had given his life for the company.
But now that it was hers, she couldn't bring herself to let it go.
She was on her way to secure a loan that day,
so she could keep the business she'd always hated.
Darren Sawyer was an investment broker in the same building where Rita worked.
His wife said he'd grown increasingly distant at late.
She can't remember the last words to one another, but they weren't kind.
Darren's body was found aside a fresh bouquet of roses he bought that morning.
And his wife takes comfort in the fact that in his last moments,
he was most likely thinking of her.
We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay.
So what'd you learn?
He wanted me to say —you were right, he wanted me to say that this isn't the fight…
James Barr should die.
Maybe he should.
I meant what you learned about the victims.
What more do you want, they were five innocent people, senselessly murdered—
I'm sorry, could you please put a shirt on?
This is my shirt.
— You lose your luggage? — I don't have any luggage.
Uh, what was I saying?
— Five innocent people. — Murdered at random, yes.
You know how many people die in this country every year?
Two and a half million.
That means, every day roughly,
7,000 average Americans wake up for the last time.
Last Friday, five of them converged on a single spot and died together.
Is that random?
— What else would you call it? — Well, take Darren and Nancy.
Odds are they were having an affair. — Excuse me?
You don't buy roses for your wife on the way to work.
You buy them on the way home.
And you don't worry about a charge showing up on your credit card
when your anniversary is that week-end,
unless it's the gift you're hiding.
And that's why she kept walking…
when everyone else ran.
You can't prove that.
How hard would it be? Cell phones, emails…
All it takes is someone willing to dig.
What's your point exactly?
My point is that two of the victims weren't there strictly by chance.
I need a list of Barr's known associates.
There isn't one. He didn't have any.
He's a classic loner, he didn't even talk to his neighbors.
He's a quiet man. Never bothered anyone.
Yeah, exactly.
Do you have his credit cards statements?
I can get it. Why?
I need a list of all the places he hung out.
Bars, bowling alleys, strip clubs…
Gun ranges. Anywhere someone would remember him.
What do you hope to find?
I need some sleep.
You too.
You don't really think I'm gonna…
Be back to pick me up at 7:00.
Yup. Absolutely.
— Who's with you? — What happened?
Oh, that's him, ain't it?
I ain't seeing you, man! — Relax, what happened?
Barr's attorney hired an investigator. Name is Reacher, some sort of
top shelf army cop, he was in Bagdad same time as Barr.
So?
So Barr asked for this soldier by name.
Then he shows up at the River today, then up on the highway.
Almost like he knew something.
And you said we don't like people asking questions.
No, I sure don't.
So I took steps.
You took steps?
Local people, my guys.
And it blew back on you.
— I figured five guys would do it. — Hmm.
This franchise was yours to manage. That's all.
Maintenance is our thing, understand?
Yeah, I understand, I couldn't reach you.
— Well that's how this works. — Well, I had to make a decision!
— These locals, I want their names. — It's in the file.
— And they know who you are? — Just one, but I took care of him.
You…
Where's the body? — It's distributed.
— Relax, no one's gonna find it. — Suppose that we want it found, yeah?
Why would you want it found?
Cause we got a way of doing things so they stay done.
Clean!
A missing person isn't clean.
For Christ sakes, man, you only had to kill one goddamn person,
you killed five, you call that clean? — I call it done!
They're looking at the shooter, not the target.
Jesus.
We make it messy now so it won't get messy later.
And we don't leave questions unanswered.
Ever. — Okay, I—Okay. I can fix this.
— Open your eyes. — No, I ain't seeing you!
It makes no difference now.
I made a mistake.
I mean, you can still use me, just—just tell me how to fix—
To survive. Don't say fix it, because you can't.
We covered up the one mess,
you wouldn't make another. — Alright, you're right.
You're right, you're absolutely right, uhm sir, just…
tell me what I have to do?
I was imprisoned in Siberia. I spent my first winter wearing a dead man's coat.
A hole in one pocket…
I chew these fingers off before the frost bite could turn to gangrene.
These, I gave up to avoid working in the sulfur mine.
That is how I survived, when so many others did not.
A man this rare can always be of use.
So show me. Show me how rare.
Show me you'll do anything to survive.
— I don't understand. — The fingers from your left hand.
Well, you…
— You got a knife? — Did I have a knife in Siberia?
No… Com'on, you guy— you guy got to be kidding.
You can do it. Show me.
God!
Guys!
Can't! I can't!
Always the bullet. I don't understand.
— What do we do about the soldier? — What we always do.
There's credit card statements, eye witness testimonies…
coffee. You take it black, right?
Yeah, what can I say, I take my work home.
I'm afraid Barr's credit cards statements are a dead end.
No bar, no strip clubs, nothing. Pretty much of it is gas and groceries.
I need you to look for gun ranges between 100 and 150 miles from here.
Limit your search to ranges longer than 300 yards.
Sure, if you tell me why.
Barr consistently filled his tank on Saturday and again on Sunday.
He took a long drive almost every week-end.
He could be going anywhere.
Yes. If it's bars, bowling alleys or strip clubs, we'll never find it.
But a match level gun range, there might be two.
And he made his own bullets, that means he shot a lot.
I'm guessing every Saturday.
Maybe with a friend.
And why it is so important you talk to his friends?
Assuming he had any. — Drop me at the auto parts store.
I—Wha—Wait, which one?
No no no, she just said “the auto parts store”.
She? Who? Reacher, can you be a little more specific?
I didn't say “an” auto parts store.
Which one stands out of your mind that is “the” auto part store?
You want me to wait?
— I'll meet you back at the office later. — How will you get there?
I'll hitch a ride.
— Can I help you? — Sandy work here?
— What's this about? — So she does, thanks.
I need to speak with her, it's a personal matter.
— She's on the clock. — Legal personal matter.
What are you, a cop?
Call her uh, Gary.
— I'm gonna need to see some I.D. — Go and get Sandy.
Well I need to see something.
How about the inside of an ambulance?
Okay. I am calling the police.
I don't think Sandy wants the police involved.
— Hello? — Let's her risk.
Hey, you—Hello, I need some help, hello.
Hey! You!
No, you are not allowed back in here, man!
Shit.
— You know this guy? — Tell him.
Give us a few, Gary.
Listen, I wasn't… I didn't know. I didn't know that was gonna happen!
It was Jeb.
The big guy.
Jeb Oliver.
He told me you were a predator.
You were supposed to start groping me.
Just don't hurt me. — Sandy. Sit down.
Where can I find Jeb?
I don't know, he didn't come to work today.
So he works here?
Yeah.
It's bullshit though, he cooks crystal.
His address. Write it down.
I'm really sorry, Mister.
You were supposed to be a pervert.
And it was an easy hundred bucks. — That's all?
When Jeb asks, you do what he says.
Am I in trouble?
Not if you let me your car.
— I don't have a car. — Sure you do. It's outside.
I'm guessing yours the Camaro, that whimsy little pick-up has Gary written all over it.
— Keys. — I can't. It's James car.
Well, won't he be surprised when I drive it home for him.
Who are you, Mister, really?
I'm just a guy who wants to be left alone.
I get off work at six.
Maybe we c—
Sandy, listen.
Now you seem like a sweet girl. Pretty.
You're obviously sharp, doing Gary's books for him.
You don't have to let these guys use you.
It's just what girls like me do.
You got money?
A little.
— Get out of town for a couple of days. — Why?
Get out of town, Sandy.
Is Jeb home?
I have a warrant to search the premises.
I see.
Well, if you don't mind…
— I got this! — Okay, okay.
— Don't move. — I'll tell you what.
When I move, you pull the—
— Where is Jeb? — He's not here.
— Where can I find him? — Jesus, my hand!
Well, you shouldn't play with guns. Where can I find him?
You—You're the one driving his car, you tell m—
God, last I saw him was all leaving jail, he said he had to see a guy.
— What guy and who? — I don't know, I don't know, I swear.
Next I know is his mom woke up from the bender and his shit's all gone.
Is he the sort to light out like that?
No. No, man. He never leave his mom's alone. Shit ain't right.
— You got a car? — It's outside.
Keys.
My hand man, they're in my p— Aah! Okay. Okay.
Now look at your friends. Now look at my face.
Do you ever want to see me again? — No way.
— Am I stealing your car? — You use it as long as you like.
You're very kind.
— I think Jeb Oliver is dead. — Who is Jeb Oliver?
He's the guy from the bar.
Jesus, how hard did you hit him?
What? No, not me.
No, he was murdered.
And someone tried to make it look like he left town.
Well, maybe he just left town.
You pack your shower curtain when you travel?
Is this what you base your conclusions on? What is that on your head?
Huh…
You don't want to know.
You said on the phone you wanted to submit your findings.
James Barr's a sniper. He's not the best, not the worst.
But he trained non-stop for two years. What does a training like that do?
What does any training do?
Skills become reflex. Muscle memory. You do without thinking.
It also makes people who are not necessary smart seem smart;
by beating some tactical weariness into them.
And 99% of the evidence your father has against Barr didn't exist in Bagdad.
Not because Barr was smart. But because he was trained.
You see from that garage, the shooter had the sun in his eyes.
Targets were moving left and right, it's difficult condition for any sniper.
But Bagdad, you said Barr was in a parking garage then?
Because in Bagdad, the sun's behind him.
Targets coming straight ahead, single file.
Ideal conditions for even an average shooter.
And the exact same conditions he would have had upon that highway bridge.
Up there, he would never even have to get out of the van.
No parking meter, no camera, no trace evidence left behind,
and his escape is assured.
Now I'm not saying that he couldn't have killed those people at the River,
but he wouldn't have. Not that way.
— So you're saying he's crazy? — No.
Well what exactly are you saying?
Any single piece of evidence, I buy.
But all of it? Fibers, fingerprints, stray brass, I mean…
And who the hell pays for parking? Sane or crazy,
it just doesn't make sense. — Okay, so Barr,
he wanted to get caught, and he wanted you to catch him.
That would not explain how Barr…
an average shooter firing in poor condition, never missed.
He did miss.
He did.
Pristine bullet.
Conveniently trapped by a liquid back-stop.
The same bullet that tied Barr's gun to the killings.
And arguably the prosecution single most important piece of evidence.
If Barr wanted to get caught, he didn't miss.
Either way, it doesn't make sense.
If he wanted to get away with it, he likely would have.
And if he wanted to get caught…
Barr was incapable of such perfection.
Or maybe he just got lucky, six shots out of six.
That's what those guys want you to accept.
Then those guys took a run at me.
Whoever sent them, made a mistake. — Oh, it was just a bar fight.
Maybe.
Or maybe someone got nervous and tried to run me off.
Or put me in the coma… right next to their patsy.
Patsy?!
It was such a great crime scene…
no one start to think it might be too great.
Not Emerson, not your father…
not even Barr's own defense attorney.
But Barr knew I wouldn't…
no matter how much I wanted it to be true.
That's why he asked for me.
Wait.
Are your suggesting— — James Barr is innocent.
You can see what this is, can't you?
You've got a case in your hands, maybe the last you'll never have.
And you'll do anything not to have the bottom of it.
Helen…
You know, you never should have retired!
— Look. Listen— — For all I know,
you were standing at the intersection with a cardboard sign three days ago.
I hired you, Jesus, my father was right!
— Helen. — It makes total sense, now.
— Helen. — It's the way you live,
the way you move around. You're just not cut out for the real work, are you?
— Are you afraid you'll end up like Barr? — No.
— Is that what this is? — Look at the window.
— No, I have work to do— — Humor me.
— you need to leave. — Okay.
Let—let go of me.
— Can you tell me what you see? — I see the same things I see every day.
Well, imagine you've never seen it.
Imagine you've spent your whole life in other parts of the world,
being told every day you're defending freedom.
And finally decided you've had enough.
Time to see what you've given up your whole life for.
Maybe get some of that freedom for yourself.
Look at the people.
And tell me which ones are free.
Free from debt, anxiety, stress,
fear, failure, indignity, betrayal.
How many wish they were born knowing what they know now?
Ask yourself how many would do things the same way all over again,
and how many would live their lives like me?
Now look at the silver Audi across the street,
the one that's been following me all day.
What does that prove?
Here's the tag number. How long will it take you to run it?
At this time of night, I don't know. An hour.
Do it.
Do it, and then I'll leave.
When?
No, this is my problem now.
I'll handle it.
Yeah.
You're blown. Boys run the license plate.
Yes, we do it?
Done.
Go to this address.
Alright, let's just say that Barr didn't do it.
Or did it cause someone put him off to it.
Either way, what have you got? — Conspiracy.
Yeah, conspiracy to kill five random people? There is no motive.
— It's ridiculous, right? — It's Grazino ludicrous.
— There's no point looking any further. — Exactly.
Exactly.
— What's this? — The motive.
Just hold on to it. — What are we playing, clue?
Yeah.
Give it to me.
Thank you.
You're sure that car was following you all day?
As soon as you picked me up. Why?
It's registered to a company called Lebandauer Enterprises.
The conspiracy to kill five random people…
it's ridiculous.
Four.
Four random people.
To hide one specific target.
Someone needed Oline Archer's construction business.
And Oline wouldn't let it go.
It's a convincing theory.
But it's just a theory.
The first round is the least accurate.
The snipers call it a cold shot.
Meanwhile your eyewitness described a pause
between the first and the second rounds.
The only shot where the killer took his time.
And Oline Archer was the second victim.
The one shot that mattered.
But it's just a theory.
That is framed and custom-made for Barr.
Whoever chose him knew about Bagdad,
and the only one who could have told him about Bagdad was Barr himself.
He has at least one friend. A very close one.
Now you found that friend, you find the real shooter.
Find the real shooter? Reacher, my job
is to present the jury with reasonable doubt, period.
What about catching the guys who really did this?
— Oh, catching the guys who did this? — Bringing them to justice.
No, I can't take this in court— — Exposing the truth.
Even if I believe Barr is innocent…
it's not my job.
I am just a lawyer.
I'm not a cop.
And frankly, neither are you.
I can't do this anymore.
Thanks for the coffee, counselor.
Sandy?
Well, it is Sandy, isn't it?
Do I know you?
Charlie. James friend?
Oh come on, don't break my heart.
I'm sorry, I don't remember.
Well we were both pretty wasted.
Aw.
— Yeah. — Yeah.
— Well you live here? — Just up there.
No shit? I just moved in around the back!
How crazy is that?
— It's wild. — Yeah.
Wow, you…
you look great. — Thanks.
Well look uh, you know I don't wanna keep you so…
maybe we can grab a drink some time. — Yeah maybe.
Hey how about tonight?
— I'm meeting some people. — Okay.
Well, some other time then.
Some other time.
— Do it here. — What?
Reacher.
There's a gun range in Ohio with targets up to seven hundred yards.
The only range that matches your requirements.
You should sleep.
You have a long drive tomorrow, and I need to go to City Hall
and pull up Oline's legal history.
I wouldn't do that. Not till I get back.
If I am right,
someone killed four random people so no one looked directly to Oline.
If I'm right, just saying her name could get you killed.
— Are you saying I should be scared? — Well you're smart?
— Obviously. — Then don't be scared.
What exactly am I looking for?
Someone who could kill that girl with only one punch.
Oh, you want the guy in 1109.
Ernie Johnson.
You'll see.
Outta the car!
It's our suspect! Move, move!
Suspect is heading north on State Road 65, I need backup and air support.
Oh God, I just don't believe it, I don't believe it!
— I issued the warrant an hour ago. — According to the victim's boss,
Reacher was seen in her place of work this morning.
Where he threatened her boss.
The car he was driving that night belong to a friend of Jeb Olivers.
— The man he assaulted. — No, those guys assaulted Reacher—
Reacher put three more men in the hospital this afternoon, in Jeb Oliver's place.
After arriving in Jeb Oliver's car.
And Jeb hasn't been seen since he left the hospital.
Helen, if you know where Reacher is, you need to tell us.
I don't know where he is,
I've not seen him since he left my office a few hours ago.
— I think she's telling the truth. — Oh you think? Dad, fuck you!
Hey! I told you not to go near him.
You come into my home, and you treat me like I'm an accessory!
— Alright, alright, come on, enough, — God, please, please, you know you—
— you need to handle this. — Look, I'm not done,
let me handle it. — You're both done, just get out.
— This is Helen. — I'm guessing the police are there?
Yeah.
By your response, I'm guessing I have about thirty seconds
before you hang the phone. — Is that?
If you believe someone could frame Barr,
you have to believe they can do the same to me.
I suppose that's possible.
She was a sweet kid, Helen.
And they killed her because of me.
They want me to run.
But I won't.
I'm gonna finish this. — No, that's not a good idea.
Listen. Two things.
One, I uh…
I stole your car.
If you want to end this, just hang up the phone
and report it missing, and I'll understand.
And anything else?
I though I'd be pushing if I mentioned this earlier.
Now I guess all bets are off.
You need to watch what you say to Emerson and your father.
I think one of them is in on it.
Alright. Thanks for calling, I have to go.
Wait. I've been followed from day one.
Only three people knew I was here.
Emerson, your father and you.
You need to ask yourself, who has the most to lose if we clear Barr?
They're trying to warn you off me.
Of course I could be wrong, if you think I am, just hang up the phone.
There's no sense getting any deeper.
Who's that you're talking to?
The office.
Are we done?
Helen, listen.
We need you to— — Good night.
All your guys are fine shooters here.
Fine as frog's hair.
Rare too.
'Cause most 'em fellows out there, can't shoot worth a damn…
You ask them to put three rounds in the black, well… they'll suck it.
— I'm looking for the owner. — That would be me. Martin Cash.
— Aaron Ward. — What can I do you for, Mr. Word—Ward?
I'm looking for a friend of mine who served in Iraq. And uh…
guy just dropped off the grid, you know.
— That happens. — Yeah, yeah.
— Yup. — Yeah.
When he was a shooter, last I heard he lived around here somewhere and I—
When did you get out of the army?
I didn't say the army.
Well you said you served with him, you're no jarhead…
man on a flying horse could see that.
Well my father was in the COR if that helps.
Yeah, that… makes you half human.
And your friend got a name?
Yeah. James Barr.
James Barr.
Never heard of him.
Thank you.
I think you've been dreading the moment some cop comes in here asking after him.
Because there's for sure some…
soccer mom around here who's more worried about your range, than she is
about the pool in her backyard, or the drain cleaner under her sink.
Wouldn't matter for her that Barr did his killings a hundred miles away.
Only that he came here to rehearse.
She'd have a case to shut you down…
and nothing better to do.
What do you want?
I wanna know who Barr's friends were.
Those boys out there…
they might be touchy when it comes to their constitutional rights.
So suppose I tell'em that cops are in here asking after my members.
I'm not a cop.
— What are you? — I work for Barr's attorney.
— We have reason to believe he's innocent. — The hell you say.
Be that as it may, I'm the only one who's bothered to track him this far.
You help me out…
I'll be in your debt.
And if I don't?
Maybe you can coach soccer.
You put three in the center, and maybe we will talk.
Can I have a few to warm up?
Six inches right.
That's your mole gun, Mr. Ward.
Playball!
Let's go.
You're a little rusty, Mr. Reacher.
I saw a man by that name shoot for the Wimbledon cup,
what, ten years ago.
And I'm pretty sure you never played second base for the Yankees,
in 1925.
Now,
I'll answer one question.
Who's your best shooter?
James Barr.
I pulled all of these down as soon as I heard about the shooting.
That's the best shot I've ever seen this side of civilian life.
Suppose I told you Barr wasn't this good on his best day in the army?
I handed out those targets myself, that's my scroll on everyone.
You hang'em down range too?
Are you serious?
I'm saying it's possible that Barr had a friend…
one who switched the targets on the range, maybe Barr let him,
made him feel like keen shit having his name up on your wall.
I never saw one real shooter who would do that for his own mother.
Unless he was framing his mother for multiple murder.
And using your range to do it.
Barr didn't come alone, did he?
You know, one of these nuts is likely to kill you if they find that camera there.
Hell, that camera's there 'cause one of these nuts is likely to kill me.
Here's Barr…
I always liked him.
I always liked him— — There.
Him.
Sonofabitch.
— Helen Rodin speaking. — Have a candidate for our shooter.
Picture, possible prints, and one pissed off eyewitness.
I can't talk right now.
Just give me three hours to get back,
and don't talk to anyone till I get there.
I'll look into that, thanks.
This is just what I could pull this morning.
Tax records, city and state permit applications, contract bids.
Shell corporation's in Georgia, that's the one next to Russia, not Florida.
They work one city at a time, acquiring a local construction concern,
just ahead a major civic redevelopment.
They build bridges no one needs; Highways no one uses.
They are like a cancer.
A cell that won't stop growing.
They moved twelve times in fifteen years.
Atlanta, Albuquerque, Austin, Oklahoma City, Sacramento…
always amidst allegations of corruption,
including millions of dollars in missing public funds,
and yet never an investigation, never even an inquiry,
it's a if Lebandauer Enterprises were above reproach.
Well, uh, maybe that's because, uh…
the allegations come from the competition.
Outbid. Bitter. Like Oline Archer.
Or maybe Lebandauer has the corporation of key officials.
And maybe, when that corporation is not enough,
they kill people who won't be bought off, like Oline Archer.
Helen, enough— how much of this do you honestly believe?
It doesn't matter how much I believe.
It doesn't even matter how much I can prove, it only matters how much is true.
Do you know how delusional you sound?
What happened to you?
Are you really so set on putting this man to death, that you'd ignore—
I pulled all these papers under my own name.
If Jack Reacher's right… my life…
your daughter's life… is in danger now.
Whatever happens to me next is on your head,
whether you're involved or not.
You are the District Attorney,
and I've given you compelling evidence to investigate Lebandauer Enterprises.
Your next move will tell me which side you're on.
Oh…
I see, it's a test.
Well… it's maybe hard for you to believe, but I do love you.
And obviously I'm not gonna turn a blind eye,
no matter how absurd I find all of this.
So if you—if you really believe that you are in danger,
if you believe that…
then the next order of business…
is to put you in protective custody right now.
And how safe will I be if you're part of it?
Jesus, Helen.
Oh. Hey!
— Business meeting or personal? — Ah, hard to tell'em apart.
I'm bettin'.
— Helen? — No.
— Sorry, wrong number. — Is this Reacher?
Who is this?
Is this Reacher?
It's you. The guy from the car.
It's your boyfriend.
Reacher, is that you?
Helen, are you hurt?
No, she's gonna be if you're not here in one hour.
Got to tell you how this works?
You bounce me around and make sure I'm not followed
and walk me into an ambush and kill me.
— Oh, you ruined my surprise! — Well, I can do one better.
I went down to the gun range at Hinge Creek.
I have your picture, prints, I'm going to the feds.
Lawyer's all yours.
Get the Zac.
On second thought, I'd like to kill you.
Let's say winner take all.
Listen to me you prick, I will kill this bitch if you're not here in one—
Shit!
You think I'm a hero?
I am not a hero. I'm a drifter with nothing to lose.
You kill that girl to put me in a frame,
I mean to beat you to death and drink your blood from a boot.
Now this is how it's gonna work. You're gonna give me the address,
and I'll be along when I am damn good ready.
If she doesn't answer the phone when I call this number,
if I even think you've hurt her, I disappear.
And if you're smart, that scares you.
Because I'm in your blind spot, and I have nothing better to do.
You got a pen?
Don't need one.
If I had a dollar for every time the army called the—the COR for help…
— You have something for me? — Yeah. Yeah.
You're kidding, right?
Just 'cause I saw you shoot ten years go doesn't mean I'll let you
kill some asshole with my gun.
— I told you how serious this was. — Yeah, I showed up, didn't I?
So let's get to it.
Now your shooter would be directly behind those light. Okay?
He can then cover both roads, comin' and goin'…
and kill you just as soon as you stand up.
Well, can you take him out?
What, to dinner, you mean?
Look, I don't know the type of people you're normally associated with, Reacher.
But I'm not in the habit of…
driving out to the boonies at the drop of a hat.
And uh, just picking on some total strangers, alright?
Anyway, I can't see anything, not with them lights up.
So shoot them out.
Yeah, sure.
And then he knows right where I am. Why not set myself on fire.
No sir. I'll start shooting when he does.
And how do you propose we get him started?
Yeah, you could always…
start running.
— What's wrong with your eye? — Saving my night vision.
You're going to mind if I ask you a kind of a… personal question?
Oh, you don't think I can shoot anymore?
It is a perishable skill.
Yeah well…
The sun will be up in an hour.
Let's get going.
I heard them call you 'The Zac'.
That means 'prisoner'.
Yes?
Tell me, killing all those people,
I have to believe the money you're making can't be possibly enough
to justif— — Enough.
There is no such thing. We take what can be taken.
This is what we do.
And you?
This one, I think I understand, but you?
Why do you do it?
You make it sound like I had a choice.
Well, didn't you?
You'll see.
You should know I've taken steps.
If anything happens— — If anything happens to you,
if will happen in front of your father, while he begs for your life.
You should never have involved him.
Now you will have to convince him to forget, for your sake, and for his.
You said nothing, but I see defiance in your eyes.
That is a look I have seen many many times.
When the soldier comes, when you watch how he dies, it will change you.
You will want to forget me then.
— Reacher? — Are you okay?
They're ready for you.
They would like to think so.
Don't do this. Please don't do this, not for me.
Listen Helen, they're not gonna hurt you, until they have me.
And that's never gonna happen. D'you hear me?
You just hang in there.
So I'm coming to get you.
Now say you believe me.
I believe you.
This is a bad idea.
Any time now, gunnie.
Shit.
Where the hell are you, gunnie?
You should go.
Toss it.
I know you're in there, Emerson.
It was staring me, right in the face.
The one piece that just didn't fit.
The quarter.
Nobody would have thought to dump that meter.
Not even me.
You were wrong about my father.
I wouldn't make a big thing of it.
— Who is he? — He's John Doe number two.
The man on the grassy knoll, the thing under the bed.
They call him 'The Zac'.
зак (russian): Prisoner?
What's your real name?
I was born in October. When I get to my birthday, I'm gonna pull the trigger.
One. Two.
Jalowiec. Zack Jalowiec.
Jalowiec.
человек (russian), human…
"Prisoner human being".
That's your real name? — That is all I remember.
Call the police.
Are you really gonna shoot him?
I know I wouldn't have to.
One look at this guy, and you know he'll would do anything to survive.
One look at me, and you know I'm not bluffing.
Yes, I have an emergency, if—if you—
Yes, I hold.
We're no hurry.
With a name like yours, you're gonna feel right at home.
Prison?
In America, a retirement home.
If I go to prison at all.
You think you're gonna walk?
You are a homeless drifter wanted for murder.
Meanwhile I am an old man in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Thanks to you. Who is left to say otherwise?
Who? — Yes, hello?
Yes, there's—uh, I—I have an emergency,
We'll see which one of us goes to prison.
My bet?
Neither one.
What did you do?
What's it look like?
What about the truth?
What about getting the guys who really did this?
What about bringing him to justice?
I just did.
What about clearing Barr? What about clearing you?
I have faith you'll sort it out, and I hear you have an aim with the local D.A.
But what happens to you in the meantime?
— I keep moving. Same as always. — Wait. Is that my car?
Who's the lady?
Helen Rodin, Martin Cash.
Pleasure.
You look like hell there, army.
You asked if I was afraid I'd end up like Barr?
I'm not. I'm afraid I'll end up like this guy.
There's a lot of dead bodies outta here. Now let's get to it.
— You should probably go. — Wait. That's it?
It's just over?
— You'll be all right, counselor. — No. What if I need you?
How will I find you? — Well, you don't need me…
not anymore.
Get her number, let's go!
I'm Helen Rodin, your attorney.
This conversation is protected by attorney–client's privilege.
You understand what that means? — Yeah.
Now the police didn't talk to you, did they?
They're not allowed to do that without me here.
How bad was it?
How many did I…?
You don't remember anything about the incident?
No.
But I could hear the nurse who just talked to those cops out there.
I don't even remember why I wanted to do it.
Look, I'm not gonna fight this.
If they say I've done it, then I did.
I've done things before.
God, it's so bad…
real bad.
Long time ago…
And I got away with it.
James. How well do you know this place?
Pretty well.
And how do you think you would have done it?
I guess…
I would have parked upon the highway…
The sun'd be at my back that time of the day.
I got a van.
It's open back.
I wouldn't have to worry about my brass.
Get away real clean, too.
Well, that sounds about right?!
Sounds as if you know your stuff.
— I forgot your name. — It's Helen.
Helen Rodin.
You're gonna be okay, James.
— I am gonna take care of you. — You can't protect me.
No one can. — From what?
From who?
There is this guy…
He's a kind of cop…
at least he used to be.
He doesn't care about the law.
He doesn't care about proof.
He only cares about what's right.
He knows what I did.
He knows where I am.
And this guy, he made me a promise…
If I ever got trouble again…
He'd be there.
Transcript and sync: jcdr