xXx: Return of Xander Cage Page #2

Yeah, well, the joke's on him.

'Cause we were never friends.

Oh, trust me, he's not laughing.

Nor will he ever again, for that matter.

I've never seen anything like it.

This group is lethal, and they don't

care who or what gets in their way.

I was hoping you'd be interested

in headlining the next fight card.

Seventy feet across, 90 feet down.

Three inches of security glass?

No rope. No line. No chute.

I bet they had a blast.

We ran facial IDs

on every database in the world.

Nothing. Not even a match

on a speeding ticket.

They're ghosts, in a day and age where

that kind of thing is almost impossible.

Okay,

you get that I don't work for suits.

What makes you think I'm gonna

want to ruin all their fun?

Well, if you won't do it for me,

do it for Gibbons.

Your country needs you, Mr. Cage.

The Triple-X program needs you.

It's time to be a patriot.

By whose definition?

The last time I was patriotic,

I got three strikes.

And there was only one man

who believed in the underdog.

Patriotism is dead.

There's only rebels and tyrants now.

So, which are you?

I'm Triple-X.

Well, welcome back, Triple-X.

Uh, where are you going?

- London.

- Why? What's in London?

A ghost hunter.

And possibly my fur coat.

I'd forgotten how beautiful

the view is up here.

Oh, I, uh, see you found your coat.

Well, you promised to take care of it for me.

And I did.

So, I'm looking for someone.

Since when have we had

a business relationship?

I get caught even touching a computer,

my ass goes away for 20.

Name your price.

You know I'm good for it.

Information like this doesn't have a price.

Ainsley, everything has a price.

Now, if you don't think you can pull it off,

if you lost your edge,

just tell me and I'll understand.

You wanna know what it is, Cage?

What?

I used to think you were the man.

But now, I don't know, maybe I feel

like you're just working for him.

Come on.

Nobody knows I'm here.

And you know how I am about keeping secrets.

So you say, but Interpol's

got these new listening bugs.

They're practically invisible.

Real MI6 kind of sh*t.

Disappear on your skin, under your arms,

tied around your balls like a Christmas bow.

Unwrap me, then.

You know, studies have proven that

sexual consummation irrevocably ruins

nine out of 10 relationships.

Lucky for me, you love to gamble.

Of course...

...not.

My friends, on the other hand,

adore stiff odds.

Stiff odds?

Hmm.

The things I do for my country.

Like finding needles in a stack of needles.

Even though you're shackled by the Queen,

you're still the best in the world.

Thank you.

Do yourself a favor. Burn this.

The whispers I hear, these ghosts

of yours are the real kind of trouble.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote