Lighthouse Page #3

- We have a serious problem here.

- Yeah I know! I know we have!

And that problem

hasn't gone away.

- How do you know?

- Hopkins saw him.

Hopkins?

What kind of shape's he in?

Bad shape.

Excuse me,

but did we miss something?

Leo Rook...

What's about him?

He was on the boat tonight.

- Why didn't you tell us about this?

- No one has to tell you anything, Spader.

- You knew all along.

- Of course she knew.

- Why the hell do you think she's here?

- I'm a criminal psychiatrist.

- I'm writing a paper on him.

- Two words will sum that up: sick f***!

Still. She'll get letters

after her name.

Well I hope they'll look good

on a f***ing grave!

So how come you ended up

with Leo Rook?

I was there to examine the evidence.

His flat was littered with his

"specimen collection".

Fingers...

Hair... Hands...

Believe me, we're next!

First job, straight into the sh*t

and straight into my head.

So I suggest we get that radio working

and stick together!

- I still have authority here, McCloud!

- No you don't! He does!

Campbell, what the hell?

Watch it, Spader!

- This is not what I'd call "fixed".

- Christ, our bloody lifeline!

Quiet! Let's go find him.

You okay up there?

Campbell's missing, the radio's history,

Spader's a little microwaved.

But he's all right?

Just you remember why Spader's with us

in the first place, Doctor McCloud.

So I'd keep your hands

off the cargo if I were you.

F*** you!

What did you say on the board?

What did you say on the board?

About Spader?

Epileptic fit.

At least that's what he said.

Still, he had a chance to escape,

and hasn't.

True.

Where would he go?

Campbell!

Campbell!

Let's get the bastard.

This is not a democracy Spader.

Right, McCloud?

In theory, yes!

But we're not in prison now

and we're all in equal danger.

- So we vote, right?

- Right.

Two options:
go or stay. If we go,

we may have some chance of survival.

The odds are kind of low either way,

so I suggest we leave.

Close it, Spader.

McCloud, you're out of your depth.

I make decisions around here.

- We should leave right now!

- Excellent plan.

You're trusting her?

Her to make a decision?

An obsessive woman,

who spends her entire life

peering under a microscope

at this madman?

- You trust her?

- Spooner, Weevil, how about you two?

- Well, we're with you man.

- You got us out of the sh*t before.

- No.

- No, no. We mean Spader.

Without him,

we'd be counting fishes now.

It's settled! We're leaving.

O'Neil?

Your opinions don't concern me.

But if we stay here and fight,

like men,

trap the bastard, corner him,

give him what he you deserves,

We've odds of six to one.

The choice is clear.

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