- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
[Rock music plays]
[Indistinct conversations]
You vouch for him, then?
Paulie? 110%.
What do you want from the guy?
A blood test? He's your fucking cousin.
- We're estranged. - I get it.
I don't think you do get it.
What, you think I got no family?
I just need to know that you know where his head's at.
Don't go fucking vetting me now, Ellen.
I'm vetted.
Pussy-whip me with your pussy-whip,
I'll chop your spine out and hand it back to you, now.
- Let's not get colorful. - [Chuckles] Oh.
It'll get colorful fast, you push me.
I'll go technicolor apeshit on you
and everybody in here. Believe it.
Now, you listen.
We're gonna butt heads on a pay day...
I expect a drink.
What do you want?
Collie knows. Just say it's for me.
- Metamucil, then? - On the rocks.
♪ I got one hand on my heart, now ♪
♪ the other's on a gun ♪
♪ the city burns to ashes ♪
♪ in the house of the rising sun ♪
[Siren wailing in distance]
His name was Al Riordan.
He worked at McCauley's... dishwasher, clean-up guy.
They think he fell down the back steps.
So, it was an accident?
- He had a crushed larynx. - [Scoffs]
How is this a jurisdictional issue?
Flip it back to the city dicks.
The medical examiner said his injuries indicate
blunt-force trauma to the throat.
This doesn't make sense, Ken.
Chicago police are on our asses
about stepping on their toes.
Why would they not take a D.O.A. that's plainly theirs?
Time of death suggested that he may have died
within the time frame of our sting earlier today.
Did you have boots on the ground?
No, I'm not budgeted for a street team.
- So, what the hell happened? - I don't know.
[Sighs]
What should I do?
If we investigate this as a homicide,
will it fuck up your operation?
It could invalidate everything Paul Parerra got
on the wire today and prohibit us
from securing an arrest warrant for Phil Davis.
Harry heard the recordings? He says it's solid?
Yes.
So, we have a clear choice
about whether to file this as an accident or a homicide.
It seems so, yes.
It's your call, Ken.
Mine?
You're unit boss.
Interim unit boss.
Make the right call.
We'll make it official.
[Indistinct conversations]
Phil: You know, you and the bosses
are being awfully cagey about this, Ellen.
Well, we don't want Bud and his goons starting an army
and dragging everything back to the Stone Age
for sentiment's sake, do we?
So, you had all these guys whacked for what,
- an ounce of prevention? - Nobody was whacked.
They committed suicide. Stick to the narrative.
Used to be when the bosses go to war,
they go to war, and then to the victor go the spoils.
Wars aren't fought that way anymore.
Fuck do you know about fighting a war?
The worst shit you ever seen, what,
coffee spills on the boardroom table?
You know, with all this slinking around,
vetting people, and eliminating anybody
that doesn't pass your fucking stink test...
kind of a pussy way to do battle.
- Life is cheap. - Says you.
The more people there are in the world,
the less each human life is worth.
Simple economics.
Sometimes I think you got freon in your veins.
Urban warfare is economic now.
The entire world is a battlefield.
"The world's a battlefield."
Fuck me with a pine cone.
Strategic strikes result in far less mess
and far fewer casualties.
Tell that to Richie Destefano and company.
Don't go get all sentimental on me now.
These guys are old as fuck. An army?
An army of what, octogenarians?
- It's risk assessment. - Yeah.
Maybe they watch too many Marty Scorsese movies.
Christ, Bud is your grandfather.
He doesn't sign my paychecks.
This loyalty to money over family
is something I never liked about you, Ellen.
- No? - No.
It's unnatural.
Really?
Okay.
Welcome to the new America.
You're sure Paulie can be trusted with all this?
The kid handed you Richie Destefano
and the rest of Bud's crew on a silver platter.
- Hm. - Listen...
When the feds drop Bud
at the halfway house this weekend,
he's gonna go smother grandpappy with a pillow.
What more do you want from the kid?
Are you gonna converse with me here
or play fucking Doodle Jump all night?
I just got an interesting text from a friend.
Oh. I'm so happy to hear that.
It would pain me severely
to find that you don't get interesting texts,
or you don't have text-worthy friends.
Do you have any idea where Paulie was this morning?
I've been vetting the guy for two months,
and you got somebody tailing him on his downtime?
Just a friend.
A friend saw him, was considerate enough to let me know.
A friend on the payroll?
- A friend doing me a solid. - A guy?
Yes.
He's not on the payroll. You're fucking him.
Why do you automatically assume that?
A guy bends over backwards for you,
and he's not on the payroll?
You got to be fucking him.
First, I don't buy it.
And, second,
I know a dick burner when I see one.
- Hm. - And you got dick burner
written all over you.
You probably have it tattooed up and down your ass crack.
You know why you can't stand me?
Actually, I do. There are quite a few reasons.
You can't stand me because you're attracted to me,
and there's nothing you can do about it.
Beauty fades.
It seems Paulie had a nice, long breakfast
this morning with his father at the Coffee Klatch.
Breakfast with Jimmy Pariah.
Isn't that interesting?
Paulie says he never sees Jimmy.
By "never," he means years never. Never, ever.
Well, either Paulie lied to you, or you fucked up.
Oh, no, wait.
At your pay grade, it means that Paulie lied to you
and you fucked up.
Nobody's tailing him. Nobody who?
Oh, just a little errand boy. Errand boy like you,
looking to pick up a little scratch in his downtime.
You think I'm kidding about chopping your spine out?
That's just the testosterone talking.
I'm flattered you think I still got some.
After breakfast, Jimmy and Paulie hopped in a cab
to 2100 East Roosevelt Road,
and they spent the morning there before his shift.
Do you know why no homeless people
sleep in Millennium Park?
It's riddle time already?
Rats.
Rats are everywhere in this city.
You just have to know where to look.
2100 East Roosevelt Road, for instance.
In a brand-new building on the corner of Roosevelt and Damon.
- I know the building. - Yeah,
but did you hear? It has rats.
Officer Phil Davis...
so breezy with words, but now he's speechless.
Isn't that interesting.
It's probably because you know that 2100 East Roosevelt Road
is the new midwest regional headquarters for the FBI.
- This isn't what it looks like. - Things rarely are.
It can't be. Paulie's solid.
Right. So you said.
What, you vetted him. Was it... it was 110%.
Ooh, that is a ballsy wager in any casino.
- He's a good kid. - Maybe too good.
How can he be too good?
When you're too good for your own good.
I babysat him.
I got him to go see Bud.
I asked him everything you wanted to know,
- and I fed it back to you. - Shh, shh, shh.
No, look at this. Look at this.
Do you know what Paulie and Jimmy
and FBI Special Agent Ken Waltham
are doing later this evening?
You give up?
"The University of Illinois' Circle Campus
is hosting this year's American Civil Liberties Union conference.
Frank Serpico is the keynote speaker."
Well, well, well.
"His speech is entitled 'Ethics and survival.'"
looks like Paulie and Jimmy are making
a real father-son day of it.
Did you know
that FBI Special Agent Ken Waltham is in the middle of a
fairly widespread corruption sting
here in Chicago called Operation Badfellows?
Sure.
FBI, whenever they launch one of them things,
they put out a press release so everybody knows up front.
This is what I need you to do for me now
and for your own peace of mind.
You need to think back on your most recent conversations with Paulie.
Could he have been wearing a wire?
The giveaway is and...
I'm sure you know this, being a seasoned cop and all...
did he press you to answer any questions
that could be personally and/or professionally incriminating?
The way these FBI stings work, see,
is they hook that little fish,
and then they use him for bait to catch the bigger fish,
and then they swim upriver as high as they can go.
While you mull that over,
I'm gonna go get us some fresh drinks.
Do you want to switch over to Pepto-Bismol,
or do you want to stick with the metamucil on the rocks?
Back in a flash.
[Siren wailing in distance]
Ken: The regional director heard the recording,
told me it was a fucking bull's-eye.
- That's good. - "Good"?
He said a fucking bull's-eye. What's wrong with you?
What about Al Riordan?
His death was officially ruled an accident, so
case closed.
Um, look, the ACLU event starts at 7:30 at U.I.C.
It's close enough we can walk,
or we can cab it, maybe grab a bite first.
- Yeah, we'd like that, thanks. - You know, I've met Serpico before.
We can hang out after his talk. I'll introduce you.
- For real? - Yeah, yeah. I think you and Paco and...
Well, we'll talk about it.
Paulie, you did good.
You did more than good. Why the long face?
You went above and beyond.
You didn't fold under pressure. You landed that prick.
You alone.
It was masterful. You're a fucking hero. Revel in it.
- You killed Al Riordan, Dad. - [Sighs]
The feds ruled that an accident.
It's closed. You heard him.
We start spinning the truth,
doesn't that make us just as bad as the bad guys?
He came at me with a weapon.
I ruined Phil's life, Dad. He's got kids.
Paulie, Jesus, the guy's a fucking cop killer.
- He killed Richie. - He never implicated himself in that.
He said "we." When I say "we," it includes me.
Doesn't mean he's got blood on his hands.
Okay, look, the feds pick him up,
they offer him immunity to name names.
He takes the bait. You didn't ruin anything.
The whole corrupt setup goes down like dominoes,
and your shitbag partner is the key.
What if Phil doesn't name names?
Feds will make him an offer he can't refuse. He will.
Bud didn't.
[Sighs]
Bud O'Rourke is in a class all his own, son.
Phil was nice to me, you know?
I mean, he got on my nerves, but...
I kind of liked the guy.
Paulie, he ordered you to whack your own grandfather.
- That was the boss' suggestion. - Okay, look.
You did a very brave thing today.
It takes one courageous act to make a difference.
Does it?
Can one courageous act really make a difference nowadays?
Today you made a difference.
How many millions gone to their graves can say that?
I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you're my son.
Come here. Come here.
Let's celebrate, huh? Let's go meet Serpico.
Yeah.
[Indistinct conversations]
[Mid-tempo music plays]
- You know what I studied in college? - Dick burning.
[Laughs]
You know, of all my P.C.s, you're my favorite.
P.C.s?
Payroll cops.
Accountants call you petty cashees.
Why?
Because all the happy cabbage I throw you and your team
to do my errands comes from petty cash.
I studied risk management.
Oh, well, whatever that is, you have my sympathies.
I assess risk, and I help manage it.
Sounds almost legit.
Well, technically, I'm a consultant.
- I freelance. - Like a hooker.
You wish.
- Who are your bosses, anyway? - Can't say.
Can't or won't?
My bosses prefer to remain anonymous.
Why?
Because it's not about ego anymore.
It's just... it's just business.
They're squirrelled away up there
in those corporate boardrooms.
They send down marching orders, and I march.
- You march? - For a price.
Like a hooker.
I'm very expensive.
Yeah, as are most working girls
who wear that much goop on their faces.
I'm worth every penny.
Mm, I'll bet.
The real bosses
are the shareholders.
- Bosses behind the bosses. - Mm-hmm.
You know all those, uh,
happy-ending massage parlors?
They feed right into the sex-trafficking industry.
Yeah, I worked Vice before Narcotics.
Feeds prostitution, all that.
It used to be exclusively mob-run, but now
a savvy investor can get in on one of those massage-parlor syndicates
for less than it costs to buy a Burger King franchise.
Yeah, but why would he?
Four reasons...
high profit margin, low overhead,
low risk, cash dividends.
- Cash... meaning tax-free. - Exactly.
So, in the world according to
Officer Phil Davis, "like father, like son"
- is entirely out of the question? - Yeah.
- Paulie wouldn't do that to me. - Why?
'Cause you're such a decent guy?
All right.
Let's say Paulie's cooperating with the feds.
What do you want me to do,
murder my partner?
I didn't say that.
You didn't but you did.
I wouldn't do that, either. You know why?
You? You probably assume
everyone you're talking to is wearing a wire.
I guess that's one way to live.
Christ, Richie Destefano was one of us.
He ran bag for the same bosses we work for.
Richie tried to play both sides.
He was trying to hold on to what he got
- till he couldn't no more. - You can't play both sides.
I've known guys that hate losing so much
they bet both sides of the Super Bowl.
What, and break even?
It's better than losing.
That's all Richie Destefano was trying to do.
No.
Richie was trying to ingratiate himself to both sides
so he could be on the side of whichever came out a winner.
That's the same as playing one side against the other.
- We can't have that. - Oh, you can't have that, huh?
No.
Oh, that's where your tolerance just kind of tops out,
right there, is that it? Or what?
The big game you're playing stops being fair?
You know what?
I'm starting to understand
why Jimmy Parerra did what he did.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
You don't stand up to somebody
who shovels bullshit on your shoes,
pretty soon they come around with a fucking truckload,
and you're buried alive in it.
Oh, don't you sound like a convert?
You ever think about the expression
- "a knife cuts both ways"? - You know, Phil, whenever you drink,
you get philosophical. Stop.
You're no good at it.
Come here.
[Clears throat]
Having those three cops killed and Richie D.,
that was a preemptive strike.
That's a knife that cuts both ways.
You know, Phil, you're really starting to worry me.
These old mob guys... at least they had honor
in the way they whacked each other.
- [Chuckles] - What? They did.
Yeah, you fucked up, you get a second chance.
Sometimes a third if you're family.
Humans make mistakes. We're fallible.
- They honored that. - In their fashion.
Richie Destefano was trying to help out a friend.
He should be getting the fucking peace prize,
and you perceive him as a threat.
That's what I get paid to do.
In risk management, we identify competitive threats,
and we eliminate them.
- It's good business. - It's fucking ruthless.
You, with your perceived threats and preemptive actions...
you should work for the Department of Defense.
Maybe I do.
[Clears throat]
You look at me.
Richie begged for his life in the end.
He cried.
He mentioned his wife, his kids, his dog.
I didn't even know he had a dog. And Bud...
he wouldn't even be getting released early
if he wasn't already sick as shit.
Realistically, how long does he have
without me and Paulie pushing him over the cliff?
What's that?
A shrug is a shrug.
Threats need to be eliminated.
Even them that don't exist.
Just because we never found weapons of mass destruction
- doesn't mean they never existed. - [Laughing] Oh, god!
Oh, boy.
- Okay. - Oh, it's a brave new world, Phil.
Sometimes drone strikes kill innocent people.
Should we wait until the perceived threat
becomes a reality? No, we call the strike.
We identify the high-value target,
and we take him out.
Bud could have raised an army,
and now he can't.
End of discussion. Perception is reality.
- Reality is reality. - Not anymore.
So, basically, what you're saying...
you could give a shit all the blood gets
spilled as a precautionary measure.
Well, there's no blood on my hands.
I'm just the messenger.
Do you have any goals in life besides making money?
Uh, not really.
You're not married, are you?
- No. - No.
No kids?
No.
You know, in the end,
looking down the barrel of a gun,
it's always family with these guys,
and I pull the trigger on that... me.
A guy with his own family.
[Chuckles]
If these mob guys had the smarts and the imagination
to put together a team like yours,
you don't think they would have done it?
If he had paid more attention to the narrative,
Big Bud would have never gone to prison in the first place.
I try not patting myself on the back too much
when it comes to this shit.
It tends to throw my gun shoulder out of joint.
Oh, it was your idea to team up with Homicide.
Don't underestimate yourself, Phil.
You're brilliant, in your own humble way.
Oh, god, Ellen, any compliment from you just gets me moist.
Oh, you and your team ...you can stage a death
to make it look like anything you want it to.
Anything you want it to be.
Well, we control the narrative, Phil.
It's great theater.
You know, whenever we get together like this,
have a few drinks,
and drift inevitably toward this very topic,
you get this sparkle in your eye
and a little sing-song in your voice
that leads me to believe that you really enjoy your work.
I think everyone should be lucky enough
to enjoy what they do.
There's an artistry to it.
Did you think I meant "enjoy it" in a healthy way?
Oh, I didn't.
I meant you seem to enjoy it in a perverse way.
You know, the way an old maid with no family
really seems to enjoy her work
'cause she's got nothing to go home to
except a cat in a cat box.
[Chuckles]
Either that or you're coming on to me.
- I can never really tell. - Mm-hmm.
You know, I don't want another drink,
but I need one.
Back in a flash with more of the same.
[Sighs]
Al Riordan gave me a package for you.
He told me not to give it to you
till you were settled in at Harbor Light.
A welcome-home gift.
Al's a good man.
Good soldier.
What?
I opened the package.
The FBI opening mail without a warrant?
What is the world coming to?
Cubans?
It was a gun, Bud.
A gun?
Throwaway.
Serial number's filed off, taped handle.
Al knows better than that.
- You asked him for it, didn't you? - Of course not.
- So you could gun down Jimmy Parerra yourself. - How could you...
violate my parole on day one?
After 18 years? [Scoffs]
That is ridiculous, Vera.
- Somebody put him up to this. - Why?
Caught with a gun on day one of parole,
I'm right back here.
Somebody doesn't want me out.
Do you expect me to believe that?
Well, now, I... I... I don't know what to believe myself.
After I was transferred here,
when I applied for early release,
they started dropping like flies, my whole crew.
Three of them committed suicide.
Four, including Richie Destefano.
Now, two is coincidence.
Three is suspicious. But four?
[Scoffs] Four is a fucking conspiracy.
If four is a conspiracy, what's five?
Five?
Who?
Al Riordan.
He's dead?
Who's doing this, Bud?
You're asking me?
You're the one who's running the city-wide corruption sting.
I handed it over to a younger agent.
I did my 25.
After I process you out, I'm retiring.
[Sighs]
So, what happened?
He was found dead...
by McCauley's.
His larynx was crushed.
We got to get the hell out of dodge, Bud,
while we still can.
All right.
I'm out tomorrow. You're retiring.
I'll do my three months at Harbor Light,
and then we'll move to Costa Rica.
Why Costa Rica?
Huge U.S. retirement community down there.
The dollar goes 10 times farther.
[Scoffs]
Look,
we did our time.
We both did.
We deserve some "R" and "R," don't you think?
[Indistinct conversations]
I got another text while you were away.
This one has a photo attached.
- Want to look? - No. Describe it to me.
Well, it's Jimmy and Paulie
at the ACLU event
shaking hands with Serpico.
Winning smiles all around.
You know, taking out the old guys is one thing.
They're on their way out anyway.
- Paulie's different. - He's a threat.
To eliminate every threat in your world,
you'd have to kill everything and everybody.
I guess that's one way to justify
being alone as you are.
I need you to act immediately
to regain control of the narrative.
Either you take care of this or I do.
If you leave it to me...
I'll have two threats to take care of instead of one.
[Chuckles]
What?
I see it now.
- See what? - The cancer.
Phil: Paulie spilled the beans.
He said stage IV everywhere.
I don't know my cancer stages, but everywhere?
I said, "No way in hell.
Ellen's too fucking beautiful."
You are, too. You're stunning.
Me thinking you're coming on to me...
that's wishful thinking, sure.
But now I see it.
You're gorgeous on the outside,
but inside...
You're rotten to the core.
Don't you fucking dare say that to me.
It's an opinion.
You got a problem with it?
March it to the Supreme Court.
What the hell is that?
That's a knife that cuts both ways.
You need to know what one looks like.
If you're the new face of America, I want no part of it.
You can't just walk away from this.
Watch me.
Running your fucking errands has cost me
way more than you're paying me.
It's simple economics.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -