Bad Company Page #3

Big Time Tickets.

Yeah, for what game?

Well, how much you want to spend?

Yeah, I can get it.

So where you at?

Where the hell's that?

Thank you very much.

Now, take off.

Whatever.

- Hop out. Give me your phone.

- What's up? What's up?

- Hey, hey, hey. Come on, man!

- Relax.

- Come on, come on, come on.

- Relax.

You know how hard it was

to get a cab to come up here?

I hope y'all are giving me a ride back.

Come on. I know you're cops, man.

What do you want, money?

I understand. Y'all shot somebody,

and now you need a suspect.

Mr. Hayes? Jacob Hayes?

I'm Officer Oakes.

That's Officer Seale.

Officer Swanson. Officer Carew.

What, CIA? What's that for?

"Crackers in my ass"?

You gonna arrest me

for scalping tickets?

We just want to talk to you

about something.

About what?

About your brother.

You got the wrong guy.

I don't even have a brother.

That's just a picture of me in a suit.

Could have got that off the Internet.

I saw a picture of Bill Gates

with 3 titties on the Net.

Okay, September 8, 1970.

Bellevue Hospital, New York City.

A woman registered as Mary Jeffries

gives birth to identical twins...

but suffers complications during labor

and dies the next day.

- What about the father?

- Thomas B. Jeffries.

Presumed alive. Whereabouts unknown.

The state rarely separates twins, but

one of the infants, Jacob, that's you,

was diagnosed with a severe

lung infection.

You still have the scar from

the chest tube, the incision mark.

An administrator at the hospital altered

the birth record...

to give the healthy child

a better chance at adoption.

A week later, Roger and Glenda Pope...

took in Kevin Jeffries.

The Popes never knew.

Kevin never knew.

So I have a twin brother. Big deal.

What's the CIA have to do with this?

- What, he couldn't send me a letter?

- Your brother's dead.

- How?

- A helicopter crash.

We need your help, Mr. Hayes.

Your brother was working

on something with us.

- My twin brother with CIA?

- Yeah,

a clandestine operative.

Before he was killed, he set up a deal.

- What kind of deal?

- A very important one.

So we need you to stand in

for him, um, just briefly.

- Pretend I'm him?

- Yeah.

- For how long?

- 9 days.

9 days? That's not standing in.

Standing in's like, an hour.

9 days, that's like going on tour.

Is this sh*t dangerous?

There is some risk.

What kind of risk?

Are we talking bad credit risk

or bullet in the ass risk?

- You'd be well compensated.

- For bullet in the ass risk?

I hope that's a lot

of compensation. How much?

- Throw out a number.

- A billion dollars.

You've overshot.

I don't know what kind of

budget you're working with.

Well, we were thinking somewhere

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