up to you. your husband left a message asking you to meet him in left field. where's that?
--a base ball field !? wh ich o ne does he mean?!
shut up!!! which field?! he wouldn't leave a message that didn't make sense to you! greer tightens his fist and is about to hit jessica again--
working in my profession as long as i have, you begin to recognize the truth when you hear it. jessica, trembling, hangs on greer's every word.
go to the window, jessica. there's something i want you to see. relieved at hiding the phone, jessica gets up and moves to the attic window -- and gasps.
one.  .
two. frantic, jessica locks eyes with hodges, silently pleading for him not to do this. hodges stares back with glacial ice.
most people don't get past two. greer signals, and:
the police are the last people on earth i'm worried about.  greer pulls a police scanner out of his jacket and shows it to jessica.
we get one hit on the scanner about you, we'll be picking out family plots, comprende? suddenly, a hummer, with the bass thumping at ear-shattering decibels, pulls alongside ryan's car. dmx.
shut up.
the left field sports bar at lax.
tell hodges we move in ten. deason nods and moves off.
-- if you'd just listen to me! i can explain! someone reach into my coat pocket! goddamn it, reach into my pocket!
--yes. yes. it's my piece.
just keep your eyes open! something weird is going on. greer stares daggers at everyone he passes. ellis io9ks around before glancing down at a photo copy of a california driver's license.
answer me! greer looks around the crowded airport.
for your family's sake, you better not have done anything stupid. ryan snatches the phone from the bogus craig martin -- and hauls ass through a sea of travelers, trying to catch up to --
animals? ellis whips a burlap hood over craig's head and they drive off just as--
get out! as craig reaches blindly for a door handle, ellis opens the door and shoves him out onto the driveway. greer yanks him up by his collar.
get up! walk! with guns at his back, craig is dragged inside the house.
i'll tell you what, you tell me where it is-- --and i won't blow her brains all over you right now. greer traces the barrel of the gun down jessica's cheek. craig looks utterly helpless.
just shut up and talk.
let's go. --greer and hodges move forward, ushering craig out of the room. when the door locks behind them, jessica once again rushes to the phone.
keep your eyes open.
no shit.
here. cop-instincts crackling, greer stands on one side of the tarp- covered stockpile and waits for hodges to secure the other. this is it; they signal go at each other and spring around -- but ryan's nowhere to be found!
dammit! no, wait! greer turns and sees a large aluminum chute that leads from the roof and elbows down toward a dumpster on ground level.
the kid's outside, headed toward the front of the building--
sonofabitch shot the poor bastard right in front of us!
these are the best pictures you could get of him?!
useless! the car parks and greer storms out, followed by ellis and hodges. they head for the house, and the moment they enter -- jessica reappears. but now she's staring at something. the escalade.
what?
early twenties? stumbled out of brian wilson's hamper?
tomlin. take care of him. no witnesses. that's more than tomlin bargained for.
you know once the shitstorm starts, there's nothing i can do to save you.
you know a desk jockey named mooney?
no! greer turns and pounds down the stairs.
balls his fist in jessica's hair and yanks her around hard.
who did you tell?!
bad timing, tomlin. but it isn't tomlin on the phone this time. it's--
the mysterious bike messenger. how did you get this number? in the cadillac, push in on ryan t9 show the cellphone manual he picked up at the verizon store in his hand.
what do you want?
who are you? what's your name?
so, how do you want to do this?
no. somewhere quieter.
fine. but you come alone.
how will i recognize you?
555-8342. an hour then?
is it taken care of?
good. we're making a trade with the kid at the santa monica pier. your boy can id the kid for us. bring him down.
only take the kid out if it's clean. no guess work. the last thing we need's a stampede. greer paces anxiously -- when suddenly his nextel rings. he answers it, though it's hard to hear over the music.
you here?
how do you want to do this?
do you have the disc?
see the black van at the bottom of the bridge? passenger side window.
he's within visual of the car. greer takes his police walkie and toggles it.
did you see that?
he's around the passenger side. have you found him yet?
he's the one on the cellphone, you idiot 1
your turn. now you show me something.
that wasn't part of the deal.
i swore i wouldn't do that.
you know a lot.
okay! okay. hodges, put 'em on the ferris wheel.
shut up and do it!
keep an eye on them. as soon as we make the trade, take the woman and her kid out.
don't screw me kid, y9u won't live long enough to enjoy it.
hodges, do not let them go! do you hear me? do not let them go!
under the pier. go! go!
this is about to be the most enjoyable part of an extremely shitty day. and just as he's about to pull the trigger -- blam!! jessica fires a warning shot. greer( startled, spins around to see jessica pointing hodges' gun in his face.