rayburn here.
creasy??? where the fuck are you?
what do you mean, i'm here?
this is going to cost you big time.
you got a secondary search and you had a gun.
everything happens once if you live long enough.
this is mexico, they do everything backwards.
so what's wrong?
don't give me that bullshit.
japanese are here in a big way. cheap labor. factory space. but they feel a lot safer living over the border in el paso. i ferry 'em back and forth. they think i'm john-fucking-wayne.
fuck, i love mexico. i live like a king down here.
oh, like you haven't been in worse places.
you been working?
how long you staying, crease?
you did something on impulse?
that's right, a bodyguard.
your spanish is good enough. you certainly look the part.
well, you'd have to keep it under control.
you do your best. they won't be paying you enough to perform miracles.
it's not exactly a scam, crease. even at half speed you're pretty damn good.
so you'll be the silent type. people will appreciate that.
what are you doing here?
bullshit. i've known you fifteen years. you don't visit.
samuel ramos. owns one of the plants in juarez. the jap car industry is in the toilet. he's trying to persuade ford to partner with him. i think he's in trouble. he asked me if i knew anyone he could trust.
take a job, creasy. breathe some air. then decide if you want to.  stick around or not.
instructional tape on what i tell my clients about bodyguarding.
rayburn here. creasy, what's up? yeah?
you got tossed. don't trust the cops, especially the judicials. oh you know that?
rayburn.  creasy! what's wrong?
you mean a misfire?
i've heard of it. never happened to me though. maybe the firing pin's off.
it's like we always used to say: a bullet always tells the truth. what were you shooting at?
creasy?
all but one. the most important one. when we were eighteen, we made an agreement to "take the world" together.
i said the plan was right here.
and hard cases. creasy's the reason st. jude became a saint in the first place.
come on, baby. i feel like a third wheel. watch the kid.
i'm here to see my friend.
he's not a cop killer.
he was doing his job, protecting the girl. if police were involved, you figure it out. i'm here for him.
you hear me, crease?
you got three of the fuckers. all dead.
two days gone. they're negotiating a ransom.
what's the deal here?
it was a fuck up. someone hijacked the drop. the kidnapper, his nephew got killed.
she's dead creasy.
okay?
how do you feel?
i'll get you up to the border. friend of mine'll take you in to san diego. drop you right at the hospital.
you'll be stateside by suppertime.
fuck. look at you; you won't last a day the shape you're in. unless you stop bleeding you should have your spleen removed.
i won't kill again. hunt people. i gave that up. anything else? it's yours.
jesus, creasy. you're talking war.
candy store. every town in mexico has one if you know what door to bang on.
i know it's old fashioned, but it's reliable. like us.
different door. not far from here.
i already ate.
you just said it. he's my friend. nothing else to say.
two tourists who never went home.
that's what friends do.
i can take care of myself.
the kind that gets divorced, but still stay friends.
none of your business. or mine for that matter. i got nothing more to say.
he'll deliver more justice in a weekend, than ten years of your courts and tribunals. so stay out of his way.
pinta martin ramos is just a number to you. tragic, a public outcry, but a number. one more dead.
light. at the end of a long, dark tunnel. somehow, she showed him it was alright to live again.
a man can be an artist in anything. stone, paint, words. food. anything if his soul is true to it. creasy's art is death. and he's about to paint his masterpiece.
me? i got jap businessmen to drive across the border. so, if you'll do me a favor and let me the fuck out of here.