it was a set-up all the way? sloan just nods. he then stoops down, shoos some of the flies away with the back of his hand and picks up the file that puja gave mr. x. the camera pushes in on the back of sloan's hand as he reads the file. it, too, has the tattoo pf the three- headed do q, in the same spot as mr. x.
that's two heads in two weeks. which leaves only one: you. sloan nods.
and killing all three heads gets him that? sloan nods again.
well, i don't know if we have anyone who can stop him. sloan squints back up at fox.
yeah? who? and with that, we.
there is a remedy for all things but death. she said it so fast he's not sure he heard it right. he turns and sees the-hottest zqzm ever to ace kroger's aisles: ox. she's wearing barely enough clothing to cover her tight body.
you apologize too much.
spina bifida babies have more backbone than you. with that, she walks toward the end of the aisle, eyes scanning the whole time. stunned, all wesley can do is watch her walk. on the smll f her back is a tatt it' tattoo we saw in the be i n n : a thkee-head2d dog. she gets to the end and catches him looking at her. then she makes a very subtle gesture with her head.  as if to say "come here." wesley still isn't sure what the hell is going on. sheepishly, he makes his way to where she stands. she leans in close, her lips just inches from his ear.
i knew your father. whatever wesley was expecting_ it wasn't that. he pulls back from her.
can't say that i agree with you, wesley.
your father.
,your father died two days ago on the rooftop. of the metropolitan building. for a moment, just a moment, wesley is stunned, but fox just keeps sizing him up.
he'd be damn disappointed in what you've become, too. wesley holds up his hands in a defensive gesture.
i've been called a lot of things, but "lady" ain't one of 'em. wesley starts to talk but fox interrupts him.
damn, wesley, how d'you ever learn anything when you won't keep your mouth shut and your ears open? i'm trying to tell you about your father. wesley starts to open his mouth again, but then closes it. he waits.
your father, wesley, wits the great€˛ sit assassin to ever live. your father, wesley, worked for the fraternity.
your father, wesley, was set up and gunned down by a man he used to consider a friend. and your father, wesley.  suddenly, s raises her hands and-ls fist' two blgck
taught me everything i know. wesley takes a step back.
this is what you've dreamt about all your life. just then, cross o s the corner to t e' e also fisting a da'r of alms. wesley's eyes go wide as fox suddenly starts firing, bam! bami bamz bami bam: forcing cross to take cover on the far side of the aisle.
move! now! she screams this, grabbing wesley's wrist and jerking him forward, just as cross comes back up, firing, a killing machine. they barely get out of the way, as the pasta aisle explodes in an avalanche of bullets! glass bottles of spaghetti sauce shatter, turning the aisle into a rainstorm of red droplets -- we're not sure what is sauce and what is blood. then.  cross springs on to a display stand of tortillas and up to the top of the freezer section, so he can have a better angle of attack at the fleeing fox and wesley. he starts sprinting down the top of the freezer section, smashing over styrofoam coolers, as his bullets barely miss fox and wesley, but slam into the freezers behind them, sending ice and glass exploding everywhere.
drive!
just drive! the chevelle stays on his tail behind them; cross drives and fires his glock at the same time. bam! bam! sam! fox does her best to send bullets back his way, while wesley mans the wheel, breathing hard, still stunned at what is happening. he spots a side-street.
go around it!
that.  was the man who killed your father. and now he's trying to kill you. wesley forces a laugh, but right now it's hard to paint any-thing as ludicrous.
have you ever believed that? have you ever been content with that answer? wesley stops, not sure of anything right now.
today's your new birthday, wesley. drive. he settles back in his seat and pops the clutch again, this time, easing.a little more respectably into traffic.
the people i work with.  we believe your father passed his skills on genetically to you. you knew how to handle the car, you knew to shoot at the truck.
it's that confidence we're gonna need to work on. wesley is still dazed.
now i want you to look at me and tell me something. and i want you to be honest with me.
do you think i look fat in this outfit?
i thought so. let's go. she hops out. they walk inside a.
mr. sloan. the butcher looks up from his work and lays down the knife, right next to where mr. sloan has a pair of silver pistols and a magnifying glass resting on a rolling table.
like i said, you got the skills.
what's up, new man?
never stopped. how'd it feel, saying exactly what you wanted to say?
you need to get used to the blood and the muscle and the meat and the sinew and what a single blade of steel can do to a chunk of flesh. the butcher turns and slices a chunk of tenderloin off of one of the hanging carcasses, then slaps it on the table.
take care of him, butcher.
you haven't quite figured out this whole "blending in" thing, yet. let's go.
this.  she picks the lock and they step inside.
this is the roach motel, wesley. wesley looks around, disgusted.
all right, find us some skinny bitches. wesley uncovers the first body.  it's a. black male.
nahh, let the brother rest. find us some white meat. and nothing too fat. wesley covers the black male and moves over to a second body. he unveils it to reveal.  what looks like a dead suburban housewife.
perfect. load up soccer mom.
you can take the couch until we find you someplace better.
come on.
your father lov ed you, wesley. he talked about you all the time.
that's a fact. he knew he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help it.
i'm here, aren't i?
he didn't hit me anywhere important, and he used pin-shot bullets that didn't do any real damage. but you can be damn sure i don't let any mark get the high ground on me again. shesmiles at another thought.
and you know what we did instead of go to the hospital to stitch me up?
we went driving.
this is where your father was killed. wesley's eyes narrow and he looks around, taking it all in.
we're not sure. the fence he was meeting was shot in the head.  which led him out to here.  but it must've been a set-up all along. all i know is it would take a hell of a trap to bring your father down. wesley crouches down by where his father's body would have been, running his fingers over the gravel rooftop.
but.
well that's why you're here. to make up for lost time. wesley looks back at her.
we cremate our dead. i'd like to say it's to honor them, but it's mainly to keep anyone from identifying them after they're gone.
yeah.
that's right.
sure. she leaves and wesley approaches the urn holding his father's'remains. he runs his finger over it, and just when we think he's going to have an emotional moment' . he smashes the urn on to the stand, the ashes spilling out everywhere. wesley runs his fingers through the decay: what a mess.  there are pieces of bone intermingled in the cremains. but then hisfingegs find something in the dust.  a bullet with a hole running down its center. he holds it up to the light for a closer look. as he studies it, we start to hear.  wham! whami.
more reason for cross to die. wesley flips to the picture of cross.
listen .to me, wesley. in two weeks, we have to kill henry helms. do-you know who that is?
a price-tag that we're going to collect. your father was meeting with a fence about the job when cross took him down. so we can only assume cross knows about the target too. we.  you.  have to take cross out before we prosecute this mission. we can't have him out there as a wildcard, wreaking havoc, do you understand?
we've never defaulted on a job and this 1k one won't be the first.
may have found your match, sloan. sloan smirks and turns to instruct wesley.
just run it out there. let the kid work. the gunsmith shrugs and runs the target down the range. wesley looks at sloan.
don't you quit now, baby! don't you quit now!! wesley didn't know it could be like this. after they finish, fox gets up and heads to the shower and he watches her go the whole way. in the doorway, she turns around.
sloan says you're ready.
same way you did, sugar. they found me.
sold perfume. at the mall.
no shit.
get in line.
fraternity members all have something in their lineage that shows they'll be good at this.
my great-great-great-grandfather on my mother's side. he was on a slave ship coming over from east africa and as it was pulling into charleston, he killed every white man on the ship and swam to shore. they caught him and hung him four days later.
i nah. motherfucker deserved it. be raped eight women in those four days. one of them was my great-great-great-grandmama. she pushes her chair back, done with her work. the camera pushes in as fox removes the device so we can take a look: the three-headed dog has been tattooed into his hand.
trial by fire, sugar. hook a right. wesley whips the car around a corner.
park it here, baby. he pulls the car to the side of the street.  .in front of a busy outdoor mall. it's covered with shops, eateries, movie theaters and people, people, people. fox eyes the crowd.
we're here for a reason and it ain't clothes-shopping. somewhere in that crowd is your first target.
the real thing.
you'll know him when you see him.
then you get shot. fox hands him his imanishi pistol, which wesley rolls over in his hand.
it's graduation day, baby. i he nods and makes his way toward.
pin shot bullets. wesley looks down at the gun.
time to do this for real.
a bullet you made killed his father. the bullet maker looks as though he knew a day like this might eventually come. his face falls and he looks.at his feet.
wesley, you gotta know something. no matter what kind of training you've done these last few weeks, killing your first, well that's gonna change you forever. wesley drives for a while. then.
jesus. someone needs to find that bitch and set her straight.
here we are.
the others are only backup singers. this is your show. fox subtly moves her head and figures disappear, crouching down. just then, out the windshield, they see a man wearing a long black overcoat approaching the corner near the newspaper building. fox's eyes start to dance.
remember: he's good, baby. but you're the best i've ever seen. wesley nods and the two of them step out of the car.
he's got the high ground. wesley sees an unmanned forklift on the dock.
fuuuucckkk! cross races along the scaffolding and disappears into a door.
keep goin', baby! take him! wesley races for the stairs. he is the only one left to chase cross to level three.
you did it, baby! son of a bitch, you did it. you put down motherfucking cross! wesley looks down and sees some of cross's blood on his hands from their clench. there is also some on the gun he is holding. ar --h d ed crun. wesley reaches down and takes the other pearl-handled gun from where it dropped and looks over them both.
what'd he say to you? wesley looks up, sees some sort of anticipation in fox's eyes. he looks back down at cross's body.
well.  damn, i couldn't be more proud of you, baby! let's go lay this on sloan!
what's wrong?
you sure? but he's already walking off. she watches him go, thinking.
jesus. she squints, the setting sunlight nearly blinding her as all she can see is a silhouette.
for a second there i thought you looked just like cross. wesley steps into the light and moves over to the table as fox lights up a cigarette.
he picked me clean and i don't care much for needles. she blows out a lungful of smoke and watches as it rises toward the ceiling.
sloan's on his way. one of the waiters waves to her to put out her smoke and she just stares him down. the man backs off, nodding and smiling.
you want something to eat, baby?
they got some good shit. ostrich, chicken.  won't fill you up too much if you're watching your calories.
well, the big man should be here any minute.
baby, you can ask me anything you want. he focuses on her eyes, zeroing in on the pupils.
what?
goddammit, wesley.  she stabs out her cigarette, crushing it on the hot grill so that it sizzles.
why'd you have to ask me that? with that, she kicks back from the table, holding a huge black smith and wesson revolver.
you shoulda known better, baby.  but he rolls over, taking fox with him, and now the oven- is burning into her back. with all her strength, she bucks him off and then flips herself backwards off the table. with another kick, she sends the hot table flying at him. it rips free from its wiring, and the nozzle sprays gas out into the restaurant.  sssssssss.  wesley knocks the flying table out of the way, but not before it burns his arm as he blocks it. spotting his guns, he sprints for them as fox unleashes a hailstorm of bullets. but he's too damn fast, and he dives across the floor pete rose style, sliding to a stop at the precise moment where his hands come u holsling his weapons. in.one fluid motion, he flips back over and eam! bam!
i gotta admit, baby.  she starts to squeeze both the triggers.
i thought we might have a future.  but, wesley drives a fist into her wounded leg and she reels.  in the same motion, he grabs her wrists and pulls her toward him.  taking her guns right out of her hands like a quick-change artist. flipping them over, fox's face full of surprise is the last expression she'll ever have because.