Dark Angel

$70,000 for this car and they put in

a piece of shit for a CD player!

Agh! Son of a bitch!

Great! Goddammit!

Merry fuckin' Christmas!

I come in peace!

Right. Sergeant Hawkins,

evidence room J-38.

38. Terrific.

Thanks.

Hey, how are you doing?

Sergeant Hawkins, please report to room

J-38. Sergeant Hawkins, room J-38.

Yeah? Hello?

What seems to be the problem here,

Officer?

- Hi.

- Hi.

Sign there.

- Must be some party.

- Pardon me, Officer?

Just a joke.

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

- Better hurry.

- What do you mean, man?

- It was clockwork!

- Better hurry!

- Jesus Christ! What the f*ck was that?

- A little insurance.

- What the hell for?

- No witnesses!

When I told them their organisation

wasn't cost-effective, they didn't listen...

...so I felt the only way

to exploit my talents...

...was to branch out on my own.

- Mr...

- Davis.

Davis! Davis, Davis, that's right.

Jeff Davis. My point is this.

Much like yourself, I'm sure...

...at an early age

I envisioned that my education...

...would be my saving grace,

give me that necessary edge.

Let me give you just one example.

I sensed a problem when I realised...

...that MBAs were rapidly becoming

a devalued commodity.

I got right back into Princeton...

I picked up a second Masters

in International Banking...

- which I suppose is...

- What's with all the extra muscle?

- Evening, Mr Manning.

- Just think of them as couriers.

Yeah, right. Let's see what you got.

Come on, guys.

Education.

It's really so important.

- Can I call you Jeff?

- Whatever.

- Come on!

- Without a college degree...

...a Masters at least...

...a guy can become desperate.

- Might have to join the army.

- Turn to a life of crime?

- Or become a cop!

- Why don't we get down to business?

- What university did you attend?

- The university of suck my dick!

Party time!

- I love this shit!

- Perfect!

- Hi, folks.

- Hi.

Money! Money! Money!

- Is this deal going down or what?

- Whatever you say.

F*ck!

- Lights out, fatso!

- The switch is in the back!

F*ck that!

Shit!

- Keep talking, guys!

- Goddammit!

- There's money!

- Shut up! Shut up!

Shut up! Shut up!

Actually, you're Turner, right?

Detective Ray Turner?

You got the money, Buzz? You done?

Buzz?

- You're not Buzz.

- You're not very smart.

You cops ought to know better than

to mess with me and my White Boys.

Drop it.

We've been on to your pathetic charade

for a week!

I said drop it!

What the f*ck is he talking about?

Smile, Ray.

- Drop it, now!

- F*ck you!

- Pack it up, gentlemen.

- Yes, sir!

- Who set this up, anyway?

- I don't know, sir.

If it was Warren, he should know better.

You boys pick up

every grain of that heroin.

- Out the back.

- Yes, sir, Mr Manning. Let's go!

Come on!

I come in peace!

What the fu...

- Merry Christmas. Keep an eye on him.

- You bet!

Son of a bitch!

Ray!

Ray!

Ray!

Ray?

Come on, man! Come on!

Come on!

Shit!

I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna fuckin' tear

his face off! That faggot!

Confirmation on the federal warehouse

explosion:
Nine dead, half a dozen injured.

Lovely!

Could you give us some information?

- Hi, Diane. It's a slaughterhouse.

- What's going on?

Looks like the White Boys

went through a Cuisinart.

Jesus! What the hell happened?

Five dead. Nobody saw or heard anything.

Nothing new for this part of town.

Caine was first on the scene.

He didn't see anything either.

Jack, I'm sorry about Turner.

I really am.

I'm so pissed off, I could throw you

through a goddam window!

But I'm not gonna do that right now.

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