so i'm dead.  fade in:
and i think it's because of this redhead.
the anti-christ?
gee.  what makes you say that?
just the last three weeks.
i lost my head. i'm.  sorry. i don't know what happened.
i had to! that motherfucker was about to welch! you saw what he was doing, right? you heard him! lionel starts shaking his head spastically.
listen to me! it went to shit. it happens sometimes. in the distance, a police siren wails, growing louder.
listen to me! we don't have much time. we can still get through this but you have to keep your head and trust me! jake takes a tentative step forward. lionel sees a blood stain on jake's shirt and recoils. the siren grows louder, jake turning his head towards it.
help me. jake waves lionel back through the door they came out of. cut to:
come on. grab his arms. lionel stands frozen. jake, drops the dead guy's legs with a thud.
lionel.  he's dead. yeah, maybe you didn't pull the trigger, but you were standing right there and watched me do it. help me. grab his arms. the police sirens grow louder.
if you wanna help, then help. if not, shut up.
then shut up.
relax, porkchop. the police sirens sound like they're right outside.
then go. lionel looks at the briefcases of bloodied money.
what about this situation makes you think i can answer that question right now? lionel again looks at the briefcases; then the shotgun leveled at jake; then at the direction of the police sirens.  he runs for the door without a second thought. cut t0:
stop waving that thing around.
and you know i hate guns. jake tosses the revolver on the bar.
i told you, use less powder.
then these go into your cut. big al moves over to the bar.
gordo plays the inside. you're the shill.
what are you talking about? you should get a fucking academy award for the shill work you do. we got it down cold, al. you don't want to jinx it by changing something up, do you?
what? i can feel you looking at me.
probably some investment banker or convertible-bonds-broker-dickhead. did you see how fast he ran out of here? it's done. he's not coming back.
ten percent.
confidence. it's just confidence. sobozinski and rottovich head for the door with their newly padded pockets.
what are you talking about? ten's standard.
we got a good thing going here. you want to blow it over an overbite?
all the shit we pulled with you and you're trying to shake us down? you guys got sack.
we can't all be model citizens such as yourself.
isn't it always? cut to:
it's what makes us run. and despite what they say, it can buy you love.
it can buy you a new and better you.
it can erase all those things about you that you wish didn't exist.
it can make you think you're on top of the world. jake passes a group of well-dressed, well manicured people waiting in line outside of a trendy bar called "wax." among the hip and well dressed, he seems out of place at the moment. an outsider. an attractive blonde in her late twenties, lily, bumps into jake.
and if you believe that money can do all that for you, you're the perfect mark. jack kerouac said that if you own a rug, you own too much. i don't necessarily like kerouac and driving cross country isn't exactly my idea of a good time, but the guy's got a point.  jake sits alone with his crossword puzzle. cut to:
if you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose. and when it comes to money, finding it and losing it, you always gotta remember how much of it's just luck.  jake stands his sparse little world, addressing the quiet before he fishes for his wallet, which he can't find.
dumb fucking luck. jake stares out the window after the bird. cut t0:
yeah.
miles.
big al used to send money to his father, some vietnam vet slowly losing his mind in a va hospital in cleveland. al was like that. that's why al never played the inside. cut to:
well, this is just fucking great.
a bird flew into my house last night. gordo and miles exchange a look, unsure of how to respond.
he'll find us. we go talk to him.
you know what we're doing with the money.
leave him. someone's going to find him eventually. then they'll start looking for us, too. a waitress approaches.
the euclid was our place. cut to:
gordo fleeced the deed off some idiot in a card game. we used it every now and then for a rag, but mostly it was our office. our power point. gordo and miles start unloading the same neat stacks of money from their pockets. it's not as much as jake put in.
that's it?
just mail it to the hospital. mr. king, please. it's regarding an accounting problem. yes.  correct.  i know where it is. that will be fine. thank you. jake hangs up the phone.
tonight. just me.
meet me at my place later.
i'm getting a ride. jake picks up the phone and dials another number. cut to:
i try.
you the one that did it? you the one that got al?
uh.  which one's the king pin?
jake. you can call me jake. here and there.
i have a good crew.
minus one.
i guess it lacks a certain style.
you can't cheat an honest man.
i apologize for the inconvenience. the king picks up a long, metal nail file.
i can't do that.
let me rephrase-- i won`t do that.
because you killed one of my crew.
i'll get the money back, plus interest. i go on the grift for you. you get a cat, i get a cut. and we get square.
no. just confidence. the king pin stands up and moves over to jake.
we got caught. so you know it won't happen again. with surprising speed, the king pin grabs jake by the neck.
why?
i'm not saying anything. besides, you're one to talk. you're the one who's got me on my knees in a dark alley.
just a tip.
you never know when you can use a crooked cop.
so you want to know how to play the big con.
first thing about being on the grift.  you're only as good as your mark. the roper's the guy who finds them. jake buys another round to the indifferent slick.
they all have money one way or another. some of them come from money. the scene doesn't change--- slick morphs into a fat texas business man wearing a ten-gallon hat. he doesn't smile.
there's that saying-- show me an honest man and i'll show you a natural born liar. there's always that little bit of bad no matter how much good. it's that little itch on the back of you neck. you may not even know it's there, but it is. the fat texan morphs into a wall street-type suit, who remains stoic as jake reaches over for another round of drinks.
a good roper knows how to scratch it-- you the outdoorsy-type? "i was just fly fishing out in montana". you play the market? "i just got a tip on a tech start-up ipo." you saw "the 'riverdance" twice? "i had a roommate in college who was gay." whatever.  wall street morphs into a thin euro-trash man who takes a drink from jake without even a "thanks."
it means that in fifteen minutes we're on good terms. thirty, i'm your buddy. euro-trash morphs into an distinguished looking older man as he takes a sip.
in an hour, i'm your best friend. jake punctuates some unheard point with a slap on his knee.
give me a day and you'll let me do your wife and daughter at the same time. it's too late for you.  jake looks up as the older man morphs into lionel dolby, the nervous mark from the earlier con.
i have your confidence. close-up: dolby's lips loosen in a wide smile. jake smiles back. he puts his drink down, then takes the drink from dolby. they remain talking as the background-- morphs into:
i tell you the "tale"-- it's the story of how we're going to make easy money. no one gets hurt. and here's the guy who's going to help. that's when you meet the insideman.
the insideman's the one with the know- how, the scoop, the angle. but maybe 'you' re the suspicious type . so i give you the "convincer." we both put up a little and we get a little back. just a taste. gordo pulls an envelope out of his coat and gives it to dolby.
just enough that when i tell you we can make more off of it, you agree. jake speaks quickly to dolby who nods emphatically. he hands the envelope back to gordo.
that`s when i put you on the "send." you put in -a little, you got a little. put in a lot.  i "send" you out for mare. as much as you can get. cut to:
doesn't matter what the con is. insider trading, a line we got on a bookie club, insurance scam, whatever.  you saw the money and you want it. more of it. who cares if you have to bend the rules a little? as long as no one gets hurt. jake spins the gun cylinder then slaps it closed, pointing it straight at the camera. jake then someone does.  blam!!! cut to:
frankie suits always said, that what you have to understand about any confidence game, is that it's like putting on a play where everyone knows their part.  the roper, the insideman, the shills.  everyone except for the mark. gordo lying in a pool of blood.
now you're an accomplice in a homicide. everything you thought you were in control of just flew out the window or is dripping down your leg. dolby turns to jake, eyes wide, lips trembling in fear.
you should be running out the door, desperate to forget this ever happened, ready to repent your greedy ways!
then there it is again.  that little itch. there's a guy holding a smoking gun, a guy bleeding all over the floor and still, all you can think about is the money. you twisted fuck. so we gotta give you the "blow-off". we make sure that you never, ever want to look for us again. we get you off our backs. forever. jake stops for a second and listens.  he points over his shoulder and on cue a police siren wails in the distance.
and that's why you need the "fix".  dolby bolts for the door without the money. cut to:
the new york police department's finest. half as smart and twice as crooked as the guy they just chased away. cut to:
suits used to say that in any con, sooner or later someone's going to start asking the right questions. usually, it takes a little longer. cut to:
we're working for the king.
no. big con. one rag. one rag and we get out from under all this. but we need another shill.
breasts. cut to:
oops. jake takes her by the arm out to.  cut to: ext.- alley. outside bar- night jake pushes lily through the back door where she finds gordo, miles and lupus waiting. her once flirtatious demeanor is replaced by something harder.
we're not cops.
yes, her. where's my wallet?
you interested in a little work? lily scoops up her bag and finds a cigarette, eyeing them all suspiciously.
take a deep breath and count to ten. it's not that kind of work. you're lily, right?
you're working daffy's block. he was going to break your kneecaps. pick- pockets can be so bitchy sometimes. i told him you were with us, so that's two you owe me. lily takes a second to look the guys over. miles gives her a wink. lily slowly raises her middle finger at him.
we have work. it pays a lot. unless you figure on getting rich lifting wallets while old guys feel you up.
alright! hold up. you win. you got the job.
we had to see what your deal was. i'm just a little superstitious.
i just have a good feeling about you. haven't you ever had someone say they had a good feeling about you before? lily studies jake's face for any hint of sarcasm. none.
you get an equal cut.
just play a part. a little acting. lily steps back and hails a cab.
that was it. we had our crew. now we needed the mark. cut to:
morgan gillette. gordo and miles both do their best to contain their disbelief.
because that's who the king fin wants us to fleece. and gillette's perfect.  cut to: int.- city bank of manhattan. boardroom--day a circle of business men sitting at a conference table.
his grandfather used to run liquor during prohibition and his father made a bundle in illegal importing and exporting. that makes him a third generation crook.
there's a story going around that he helped fund the contras back in the eighties. gillette and his crew head through a large glass revolving door to.  cut to:
most of his money's clean. a lot of it isn't. the best part is that we know exactly where it is. as gillette and his crew disappear into the car, we pan up to see the front of the building which has a large sign reading, "city bank of manhattan; a gillette family company." cut to:
two million. miles lets out a whistle.
we get fifty percent. and we get clear of the king. jake looks over at lupus for confirmation.
that's why we don't go after him directly. cut to: int.- city bank of manhattan. lobby empty. the marble floor spotless, the dark oak teller windows vacant, a row of desks.
we find a doable guy in gillette's bank.  someone about mid-level. not too high, not too low. a lone man, grant ashby, materializes behind a desk on the empty floor and sits behind a computer terminal.
we meet him with corporate papers, inquiring about a corporate loan for start up capital. the corporate papers are in order, but we need things to happen fast. our guy fudges numbers in the right places, moves our papers to the top of the pile or to the bottom, depending upon what we need.
we pay better.
our guy gets us approved for the start up capital. but, the money can't be transferred to any one person. on the given day, the money's wired into a corporate account in an off-shore bank. cut to:
that same day, i show up in the caymens with the proper i.d. and corporate papers to make a withdrawal. jake materializes on the empty bank floor, walking confidently up to the teller with a silver briefcase in hand. mile5 uh.
what? mile5 i'm just thinking out loud here, but.  two million in a briefcase?
good point. jake approaches the teller, now wheeling a black suitcase behind him by the handle. jake presents the teller with a series of papers and a photo i.d.
it's bank policy not to release this money in cash because it's under a corporate account.
so we cash the check at another bank. jake slides the suitcase and the check over to the teller. cut to: int.- jfk airport. terminal hallway- day like the banks, empty. jake walks with the suitcase down the flourescent lit hall towards a series of tables under a sign marked "customs."
now, this is the most important part-- you can't just walk into the united states with a suitcase full of cash without evoking the words "cavity search". as we get closer to the custom's desk, a customs officer wearing a white short sleeve shirt and a badge materializes behind it.
that's why you need someone on the inside at customs. jake approaches and slides the suitcase towards him. the officer slides it back to jake, revealing another envelope stuffed with cash under it.
then we disappear. as he walks away, we see some people materialize carrying luggage.  then a few cars.  then an airline rep.  gradually more and more people and cars, each materializing into a normal scene at the airport until we lose jake in the crowd. cut to:
it never worked before because a, they didn't flush the bank enough; b, their corporate papers were for shit; c, they didn't have someone on the inside with customs.
then what do you want to do, miles? run?
yeah, well we never had this kind of problem before.
we're getting a little old for running.
i'm getting clear of this. if you're not going to do it for the fucking principle, do it for the money. gordo?
no, not "whatever." you're either in or you' re out. a silence falls over everyone.
i agreed with miles. it was, hands down, a dumb fucking idea.
but they bought it. now i had to deliver and i needed help. jake yeah, it's jake. how'd that tip work out? cut to:
factors that weren't clear to me until now. cut to: int. - 16th precint. office- day an office of empty chairs and desks. through the windows we can see the hustle and bustle of the precinct. special agent gunther moonan, still dressed in the same shitty suit, sits behind a desk as rottovich and sobozinski enter.
let me tell you something about moonan.  cut to:
he's just as crooked as the next guy. you'd think he'd have more important things to do with tax payer dollars.
just watch every thing you say around him. every word, every move.  it all goes back to the king pin. lupus exits the restroom, heading back towards the booth.
here's what's going to happen. gordo, we need to find a guy in gillette's bank. miles, we need papers, corporate, insurance.
no, the corporate papers have to be legit. but you gotta score an i.d. a clean one. talk to suits. i gotta get us a banker.
i'll worry about customs.
take a deep breath. you sound like you just broke up with your boyfriend or something. jake rolls his eyes as lily glares at him. cut to:
i think two million.
i need you to stake me.
i need you to stake me. i can't do it without it. it's just a couple hundred grand. taken out of our cut when we're done. king pin eyes jake suspiciously for a second.
nothing ventured, nothing gained.
hey, i got it! take some mental notes. you just might learn something here. lily just shrugs and rolls her eyes.
no, you listen. we're partners now and even though i'm running the show for you, i'm still running the show. that means i get a little respect. so i don't want to hear anymore of this scooter, buddy, junior, skippy, tiger, bullshit. it's jake.
and i gotta tell you, for a guy who spends all his time in a gym, you could be in better shape. a few of the boxers training around stop and turn. the king pin lowers a glare at jake.
excuse me?
fine. you want me to take it off, i'll take it off. jake unbuttons his shirt and stands in front of the king pin, arms crossed. it's getting weird.
you're not going to bust out baby oil and start rubbing me down or anything, are you? the king smiles and begins to take off his shirt. harlin and lupus share an uncomfortable glance. the king strips down to the waist and reveals an incredibly large, incredibly round stomach which he slaps loudly.
no thanks. i'm good.
i am not going-- the king starts to get that look again. jake winds up and punches the king in the stomach. he shakes his fist in pain.
i think i just broke my hand.
you get all that? everyone in the gym goes back to their workouts. cut to:
we got our stake. now we need to find our guy in gillett's bank. cut to:
what you're looking for in a mark is someone who's weakness you can exploit.
guy like me, with people like that.  i'll tell you what you're looking for without even meeting you. it's like a personal ad you wear over your head. jake watches as she hails a cab. a man, also hailing a cab goes for the same one. michelle gets into a screaming match with the man. freeze frame on michelle--- a cgi sign appears over her head "single, volatile, confrontational woman seeks "man" for economic security and house chores."
no. cut to:
no. cut to:
no. cut to:
what you're looking for in a mark is someone who's got nothing to lose. no friends, no family, no life. you're looking for a guy who doesn't own a rug. jake watches as ashby orders a drink and pulls a newspaper from his coat. he opens it to the crossword-- just like jake would.
him.
i' m sure. cut to: int.- garment district. warehouse- day jake, miles, gordo, lily and lupus enter a warehouse housing racks of clothes.
now we had the con and the mark. we needed to look the part.  they're greeted by frankie suits, an ancient rake-thin man, perfectly coiffed and exceptionally dressed.
frankie suits was a legend in certain circles. he. was on the grift since he was ten.
back in the day, suits made money running fight stores and the wire with a fix so tight it was like a legit business. i never understood what the point was if grifting became like a regular job.
we need wardrobe. frankie so i see. in from long island? you fellas take a look around.
aces, suits.
pretty much.
pretty much. suits eyes lily.
huh? oh. she's alright. suits gives lily another suspicious look.
a little bit of both. lily watches in utter confusion.
can't say.
the king. a dead look comes over suits.
i can handle it.
it's not history.
i want to get out from under all this for good. and i want to fuck them all doing it.
yes i can. suits guages the seriousness in jake's face and nods. the he gently rests his hands on the papers.
can't do it suits. i can't lay down for this one.
we're jake. they shake, knowing it'll be the last time. cut to: int.- garment district. warehouse- continuous we follow lily and jake out of suit's office. lily can see that it's thrown jake a bit.
don't worry about it.
you need to get a haircut.
and some new clothes.
we're going to rope this banker tomorrow and you gotta at least look classy, if not be classy. you gotta do this thing and i don't even know if you can.
i don't trust anyone.
oh yeah. this is good. this will do nicely. this is about confidence. your confidence and their confidence. you get their confidence by giving them yours. jake leaves lily by the front counter as he starts a slow turn around the store. he casually pretends to be browsing as he moves next to mr. lewis, an older, distinguished looking gentleman, being helped by a salegirl, who is scribbling on an order form.
mr. lewis? mr. lewis turns and looks at jake. there's no real hint of recognition, but jake's smiling up at him like an old friend.
it is you. hello! jake extends his hand.
jake. jake pearson. i go to lawschool with your daughter. carolyn. we met once or twice. mr. lewis seems to search for second, then extends his hand more in an effort not to appear rude.
well, it certainly is a coincidence. here of all places! how is mrs. lewis?
excuse me? i believe you're holding something far me under pearson.
you know, this is kind of embarassing, but my wallet was stolen yesterday and i'm afraid the ticket was in it. but the name's pearson.
my wife and i are just taking a little vacation. behind his back, jake discreetly waves lily over.
honey, this is mr. lewis. carolyn lewis's father. mr. lewis, this is my wife, lily. lily and mr. lewis exchange handshakes.
i'm sorry, honey. i'm almost done. jake taps lily on the back with the hand wrapped around her waist.
thank you. actually, it's our first anniversary this weekend. she thinks i'm here to pick up something for my mother, but it's actually a gift for her. think i've fooled her?
very much so. jake smiles ear to ear, like the happy newlywed he's pretending to be. the salesgirl returns.
i told you. my wallet was stolen. please.  check again. jake takes a nervous look over at lily, who is drying on earrings with another salesperson.
thank you, sir. you know, i hope this isn't too much of an inconvenience, but if carolyn is coming down for the weekend, perhaps i could give you something for her? it's a check. we split the cost on a few books and i haven't had the chance to pay her back yet. could you?
that'd be a great help.
you're sure? this is.  just a complete disaster.
a ring for my wife. alot like that one. in fact, it was that one.
thank you. sorry, i'm just a little anxious to give it to her. you take out of state checks?
i understand that, but i had my wallet stolen last night. is there any way?
i know it's policy, but.  the thing is.  it's our first anniversary and we're only in town for the weekend. it's a very, very special night for my wife and i. this ring is my gift to her and i think she's going to really love it. i can give you phone numbers to call for people who'll vouch. i can send you i.d. later.
this is embarrassing.
i'm sorry, sir. thank you very much for doing this. and please tell carolyn hello for me. jake seems to be lost. mr. lewis looks over at lily, who gives him a friendly smile, then back to jake.
happy anniversary. lily takes the box and shakes her head, impressed. jake looks up to see mr. lewis watching them as he tries to hail a cab. jake's demeanor quickly changes as he puts on a big smile.
smile. you just got a present from the man of your dreams. lily puts on a big smile while opening the box.
now we gotta give him a strong finish.
uh-huh.
uh-huh. jake watches as lily walks away. she looks back at jake once before disappearing around a corner. cut to:
it was all in play. everything.
thanks. did you know you shouldn't light three cigarettes with a match?
luck's a funny thing. especially the bad.
having a gun pointed at you for one. it's not like breaking a mirror bad luck, but it's bad. three on a match, black cats.  believe it. believe it all. cut to:
but if you wanna talk about bad luck.
redheads.
fuck! gordo, lupus and miles look up at lily.
top three all-time worst red-heads.  insert shot- a red headed woman enters dark bedroom, carrying an axe.
lizzie borden.  axe murder. insert shot- a dinner table for twelve men dressed in flowing robes. a red headed man leans over to whisper in the ear of an important looking guy in the middle.
judas.  betrayer. insert shot- a red headed woman, middle-aged with a bad haircut from the 70's carrying a suitcase leans down and tearfully kisses a small boy on the cheek.
shirley vig.  abandoner.
you just put a mother of a jinx on us.
but the fucking grand poo-bah of all jinxes? a bird in your house.  lily takes her jacket off revealing a delicate blouse, decorated with a design of flowers and a bird.
a bird enters your house.  cut to:
it means death.
you have no idea what you've done do you? no idea! what is this? jake points to her hair.
what about this? do you have any idea what this means? you've killed us. we're dead!
like that matters! you can't fool bad luck! you can't get by on a technicality! you can't trick karma! lily grabs her jacket and starts out the door, then turns back around to jake.
anybody says a word i swear to god.  jake takes off after her. cut to:
my father used to play the same fucking lotto numbers with these other guys in the pharmacy. the same numbers everyday for sixteen years. one day he gets pissed off, tells them he's out and plays his own numbers. they hit the lucky seven for one point two million. lily steps out from behind butch.
she's up for it.
she got one leg out from under him. now we had to lean.
so this is our boss, right? he chases me and miles out of his office and he's yelling and screaming, "you're fired! your whole team's fired!" he starts looking for lily, lupus, gordo--
uh, right.  and that was it. that's when we decided to start our own business. no more shithead bosses.
what do you do over at your bank, grant?
here's where a little research comes in handy. corporate banks give out vp titles like calendars. it's a small lie, but now we're sure he's playing.
maybe you can help us understand what's so hard about getting a corporate loan.
a capacity for gross fund recovery. yeah, we got that part.
they scare people off because most people lack vision. vision and balls. present company excluded of course.
we know exactly how we're going to make the money back. there in lies the catch-22
listen, what i'm about to tell you, i'm telling you in confidence, okay? have you ever heard of a company called big.com?
right. the guys who started that did what a lot of companies in the valley do. they get a good idea, shop it around, raise some capital, then sell it off to a bigger company. microsoft, intel, oracle, whatever. the beauty of it is, they've pretty much sold the company before they're even real. the bigger company is already set to buy it, all they want to do is make sure that the idea actually works. so they get some start up capital, make it work, then sell it for like five times the initial loan.
exactly. but the catch-22 is that you can't tell anyone about the offer, because if it's public, you could start a bidding war and that's considered a breach of etiquette. it could kill a deal. but, wait too long and you're not considered hot anymore.
yes. that's why i wish there were guys willing to take a chance and live a little.
off the record, i'm this close to cutting someone in on the action if it'd help. ashby considers for a moment.
uh.  no thanks. i'm not going all the way to brooklyn for a hundred dollar pay-off.
lupus! lupus turns and jake moves closer. jake when this is all over, you're going to tell me who the king put on al.
i'11 find the time. lupus nods and heads off. jake watches them go.
for what? a couple hundred bucks?
it's what i do. it's my job.
are you asking me if i have something to prove?
not in that repressed anger sort of way.
good quality porn has it's place in the world.
i'm good at it. lying, cheating. manipulating.  i'm good at it.
intuition. it doesn't make you yoda. like tonight. you killed that guy tonight. but i knew you would.
no. you have another part? you'll know what to do.
intuition. cut to:
don't ruin this for me. they roll off the bed onto the floor, a naked tangle of arms and legs, their hands still entwined. cut to:
you know when the first con was ever played? it was when adam fell for eve in the garden of eden. lily looks away, her face softening for a moment.
then she fucked him over with an apple. redheads.  jake continues to laugh.  cut to:
how do you deal with---
said, how do-- deal with that? lily shrugs indifferently.
maybe. even if we don't, you'll be alright. you're not in the hole with the king. lily rolls away from jake. undaunted, jake starts kissing her back.
sounds respectable.
you want to talk about an old boyfriend right now? jake, kissing up the length of lily's neck.
yeah, the sensitive guy-thing never worked for me.
you guys got busted. this is a great neck. jake still kissing.
glenn talked you out of it.
he was looking out for you.
lily.  jesus christ.
did, uh.  did you kill him?
no. you trusted him.  you were just getting square.
sorry, honey. but i figure if we can't all share at a time like this.  butch lowers the gun down and looks over at lily.
we had to finalize the deal.
this has to happen fast.
there'll be red flags. jake slides an envelope across the desk.
you need some convincing. consider it a convincer. ashby leafs through the money in the envelope.
you're worried about recouping the loan. i already told you.
then there it is. ashby gets the itch.
the standard ten.
two million.
and all you need to do for your ten percent is put some paperwork through and push a button tomorrow. there's a pause before ashby smiles, then reaches around to scratch his neck. cut to: int.- city bank of manhattan. hallway- day jake exits ashby's office with lupus, gordo, miles and lily. they all follow jake down the hallway.
eight a.m. flight.
we'll use the euc. they pass the glass partitioned conference room. jake looks inside to see morgan gillette holding court with a bunch of suits. butch stands behind gillette. for a second, butch and jake's eyes meet. cut to:
that tip not work-out for you fellas?
hey, listen.  if you guys don't pay your taxes, that's your business. sobozinski punches jake in the stomach. miles and gordo lurch forward--
gunther? i think i'd remember a gunther.
oh yeah. moonan. i remember now. thanks.
wouldn't dream of it. rottovich punches jake hard in the stomach, sending him gasping to the ground.
something stupid.
we go way back.  cut to:
about four years ago, we were working in miami, turf fixing for some local goon. cut to:
turns out this local goon was being watched by the feds, which means we were being watched by the feds. one in particular. through the crowd, we catch a glimpse of moonan, in sunglasses, watching the guys.
special agent gunther moonan. jake turns and catches moonan looking at him. cut to: ext.- racetrack. parking lot- day moonan walks over to a car.
he didn't really have anything on us, but i figure, maybe this guy's good for a fix. so i ask him out to dinner. moonan pulls a piece of paper off the windshield that reads: "la scala 2night." cut to:
these guys we have now, sure, give them twenty bucks and they'll look the other way on a parking ticket. but a fed.  you get a guy like that as your fix.  jake nonchalantly slides a fat envelope over to moonan. moonan picks it up and finds a wad of cash.
it was probably a stupid idea. there i am, armani and rolex. there he is, jc penny and timex.
so i took a shot. but now he had me on attempted bribery of a federal agent. as moonan stands, we see big al get up from the next table. a1 "bumps" into gordo, dressed in a waiter's white jacket. gordo "trips;" spilling scalding hot coffee into moonan's lap. jake casually gets up and leaves.
that's when gordo comes in with the hazelnut french roast. resume-- moonan falls to the floor, holding his crotch in agony. cut to: ext.- la scala. parking lot- night miles pulls up in an old cadillac, picking up jake at the entrance. they pick up gordo and big al from a side door and drive off as moonan limps out of the restaurant, still holding his crotch. cut to:
and that's how special agent gunther moonan and i became friends. lupus nods, satisfied.
no, i'm not going to take it easy. you can't stay clear of this guy. he will be on this until the end of time.
there is no scam! i've got a fucking sign on my back! i can't leave town now and come back with a suitcase full of money. you get it? it's over. we walk.
what do i always tell you guys? don't spend it all. sooner or later we're going to run into some bad luck. save some. put it away, so when shit like this happens, you're not desperate. that's it. the gig's up.
no, no, no! not this time. i am doing this for your own good! you guys have got to learn when to stop. you with the armani! you with the hookers!
do you even remember al? do you remember what he looked like sitting there?
hey, we fucked once, honey. that hardly makes you a good judge of character. and don't think i didn't know you were working some angle with that either.
there are three people i trust-- him, him and a guy who got killed. i don't know who you are! you're like some stray doq that wandered into the house. so i'm telling you to cut loose of this. no one's looking for you, not the king, not moonan and not gillette. just go wherever it is you would go. it's over. lily looks around the room. no one seems to be backing her up.
what about what?
so there it is. you got that big itch you need to scratch. it's all about the fucking money. what do you want, an apology?
i'm going to say this one last time for you, so take a deep breath and count to ten. there is no cut. lily levels a look of utter contempt at jake.
that's it.
don't worry, i'll settle up with your boss. we haven't skipped town yet.
of what? they're both crooks.
my fucking heart bleeds.
point, lupus. give us a point.
i was doing it for them.
it's not true.
no. she won't. she's not going to be a problem. lupus cups the phone.
uh huh.  uh huh.  okay.  i understand. jake hangs up the phone.
oh, you know.  don't fuck this up. i'll kill you. i'll kill your family. i'll shoot your dog.  all the usual. then he said good luck.
aww, shit! cut to:
we were back on.
she walked. lily pushes butch aside and moves closer to jake.
sorry. i didn't know.
today? started off great.  cut to: ext.-- caymen islands. beach- day crystal blue water gently rolls onto virgin white sand. a jet cuts a line across the cloudless sky.
ashby was going to call us with the exact time of the transfer. the king was waiting on us. just to be safe.  cut to:
so they waited for my call while miles and i waited for ashby's call. cut t0:
feeling lucky today, miles. found a penny-- heads up. there was an empty cab right outside my building. we hit every green light.
and we got rid of the red head.
same thing with playing a con. you have to be able to see that deep.
in order to ensure that we weren't going to welch, ashby's pay-off was to be directly deposited into his own offshore account which he could confirm electronically. in this age of ecommerce, paper currency has become " more of a liability than a commodity. especially to us.
go. cut to: ext.- caymen islands. cafe- same gordo listens into a cell phone: without saying a word, he gets up, wheeling a nondescript black suitcase. across the street sits the grand caymen's bank in all it's pastel and brass glory. cut to:
gordo was making the withdrawal from the grand laymen's bank. gordo stands in front of a teller. she reads off a paper then does a double take at gordo, who smiles back.
they check the papers.  gordo slides a folder of corporate papers along with his photo id towards the teller. we follow the teller as she hands the papers to the
they stick. gordo shakes the loan officer's hand and calmly walks towards the door. cut to: ext.- laymen islands. street day gordo walks across the street with the suitcase and pulls a cell phone from his pocket.
then he had to bang it out across the street at the bank of the caymens.
we called them green twinkies. the bank official and security guard exit. gordo holds up a green twinkie up to his nose and takes a deep breath. cut to: ext.- caymen islands. street- day the security guard holds open the door as gordo exits, suitcase in tow. gordo takes his cell phone out as he moves across the street.
miles was on his way to the airport to wait for gordo to land. i made the call.
yeah, it's me. i need an escort. not a ride, just an escort. you wanted in, this is in. cut to: int.- 16th precinct. detectives' office- day sobozinski behind a desk. sitting in a chair leafing through a magazine is moonan. rottovich on the phone.
kennedy. international terminal. gordo with a black suitcase. you got moonan under control?
let me ask you something.  you really think i'm going to come this close, this fucking close and let my guard down? i'll get square with your boss. i'll get square with whoever did al. i'll get square with everybody. then i'm going going to cash in my chips and be on my way to a new and better me far away from here.
gordo. cut to:
what? no. use the bathroom on the plane! gordo eyes mr. & mrs. heavyset.
he's wheeling around two million dollars in cash and he wants to stop to use the bathroom. you believe this?
that was fucking deep. lupus gets up and heads for the bathroom again. cut to:
what's up with you? bladder infection?
it's me. it's jake. listen.  it's happening. gordo's landing right now. meet me at the euclid.  for your cut, i mean. it's.  i want you to have it. jake hangs up the phone.
that's what i like about you, lupus. you're a free thinker. don't let the king tell you different.
egg foo young. stand up.
stand up.
i said stand up. cut to:
this is probably about where you came in.
eww-whoa? cut to: ext.- jfk airport. parking lot- same miles on a cell phone.
eee oott auught!
he got caught! your boss tried to pull a switch and he got us all fucking pinched! lupus picks up the phone and dials another number.  no answer.
aaaaiiit!!! ooopusss!! lupus takes a newspaper off the bar and covers jake's face with it. slam!!!-- blood splatters across the front page of the metro section. the paper falls away revealing jake, wide- eyed, the gun hanging from his mouth. lupus lies in a heap at the floor.
i never thanked you for that. cut to:
what do you get, lily? finder's fee? because it is all about the money, right?
probably safe in the hands of the federal government. butch buttons his coat.
it's like putting on a play, where everyone knows their part except for the mark.
guess so.
i do trust you, lily. butch turns back to lily to see her reaching into her bag.
trust.  cut to:
it should be a four letter word. cut to:
so i'm dead.  ext.- jfk airport. parking lot- night police officers and federal agents in windbreakers swarm all over the parking lot. the king and harlin are bent over the hood of the car, cuffed. one federal agent pulls the black suitcase out of the car.
but maybe i can't blame lily. maybe i just should have just trusted her to play her part. because playing the big con is like putting on a play. a play where everyone knows their part except for the mark.  cut to:
just watch everything you say around him. every word, every move.  it all goes back to the king pin. get it? cut to:
you have no idea what you've done do you? no idea! what is this? jake points to her hair. lupus quietly watches, taking it all in.  cut to:
you tell them the "tale".
what do you want? an apology?
and like in a game of chess, you've played every possible move in your head.
then you give them the "blow-off". you get them off your back. forever. the king pin and harlin are bent over the hood handcuffed. rottovich and sobozinski lie on the ground, face down, their hands behind their heads.
but most of all, you need the "fix". this time, moonan takes it. cut to:
that's how special agent gunther moonan and i became friends.
like suits said, sooner or later someone's going to start asking the right questions. the custom officer waves gordo through. gordo reaches down and picks up an identical black suitcase already lying on the table next to his and leaves.
rottovich and sobozinski would ask how the drugs got in that suitcase. the king and gillette would ask where the money really went. moonan walks over to the customs desk and takes the original black suitcase. he nods to the customs officer. moonan turns and walks towards camera, wheeling the suitcase behind him.
and all of them would ask what agency special agent gunther moonan worked for. we close-in on the badge hanging from moonan's neck. on it is a number and the single word, "customs". cut to:
but what do i care? i'm dead.  a thin, white vest, splattered with blood and wired with squibs falls to the ground. police sirens wail just around the corner. cut to:
no one's going to ask me: a black car comes to a stop n front of him. the tinted glass slides down and jake leans in.
drop something? inside we see moonan and lily riding in the back, miles and gordo up front.
Redheads.  Jake gets in and the car pulls away, followed seconds later by two Police Cars SCREECHING to a stop in front of the Euclid. FADE TO BLACK:
	106:
they say a good chess player can. see up to twenty moves deep. that means that in some games, you've calculated every possible move in your head.  the game's over before it's even " really started. cut t0: int.- city bank of manhattan. ashby's office- same ashby sits at a desk, computer terminal in front of him. he speaks in hushed tones on the phone.