Split Second

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731 arriving at Lockup 16.

Prisoner on board.

- Request assistance.

- Affirmative. Proceed to Bay 2.

This is Thrasher.

All units be on the lookout

for Detective Stone.

He's armed and dangerous.

If anyone spots him,

report to me immediately.

Durkin, where the hell are you?

I've located Stone,

passing Trafalgar Square.

On his tail, sir.

While the United States blocks yet

another UN resolution on global warming...

...London continues to suffer...

...as the River Thames rises to its highest

level since Black November, 1999.

With the approaching full moon

and persistent rains...

...the further outlook

for Londoners appears bleak.

As the tides continue to rise,

the dramatic increase in rat infestation...

...is evident throughout the city.

Those attacked should report

to their local rodent center...

...for immediate medical attention.

Police, d*ckhead.

50, two drinks minimum.

- Watch him.

- Okay.

Damn it.

- What can I get you?

- You got coffee?

It's two drinks minimum.

Give me two coffees, extra sugar.

Access code.

- Special Unit, can I help you?

- Get me Pat O'Donnell please.

One moment, I'll transfer you.

Come on, Pat.

Excuse me, please, I have to pee.

Will you watch the door for me?

- Sure, babe.

- Thank you.

Don't be a creep and peek, okay?

- O'Donnell, here.

- Hi, Pat. This is Stone, here.

- Don't call me, you were just suspended.

- Did you get the report yet?

No, maybe the bastard

won't show this time.

He'll show.

I know he will.

I need some coffee.

Where the f*** is my coffee?

I know you're here.

Son of a b*tch.

Freeze! Don't move.

Show me your hands, man.

Somebody must have seen something.

You?

You know something.

What about you, d*ckhead?

I know.

I know you saw him.

- Where did he go?

- Don't shoot!

- Talk to me!

- I didn't see anything!

- Freeze!

- Police!

Get out of my way!

God!

I can hear your heartbeat.

I'll find you.

You f***!

Then what?

He started raving like a lunatic,

out of control.

It took four officers to subdue him.

- Where is he now?

- Lockup.

What happened to him?

A serial killer murdered his

partner, Foster, three years ago.

He was there when it happened.

- Survivor's guilt.

- Just plain guilt.

Had an affair with

Foster's wife, left her...

...hit the booze, went over the edge.

Now he lives on anxiety,

coffee and chocolate.

If you ask me, he's nuts.

That's what the doctors say.

Here, read the file.

He's worked in every hellhole in the world

and been fired from all of them.

- They say he's the best.

- He is.

I followed him down an alleyway.

He shot a trashcan.

Sounds like Stone.

- Maybe you'll be a soothing influence.

- Pardon me?

He's your new partner.

What's the matter with you, Stone?

- Where's my other piece, Pat?

- You mean the cannon.

The Chief's got that.

He said he wanted to see you,

said it was urgent.

Hiya, Stone!

Get a move on.

- Careful, sweetheart.

- It's good to have you back.

What the f*** are you doing here?

I thought you were suspended.

Stone, get your ass in here!

- What the f***'s this?

- Hi, Chief. How are you doing?

Answer the question.

It's a gun.

Don't be a smart-ass. This isn't funny.

I'm not laughing.

The killer is back.

I thought you said

this guy wouldn't be back.

Sir, all research shows that a serial killer

of this type doesn't come back.

- Who is this?

- Detective Dick Durkin.

- Are you sure it's him?

- He ripped her heart out.

- Her heart? What for?

- Maybe he eats them for breakfast.

This wasn't in the police reports

or the papers.

It's never going to be. You got that?

Jesus, if they get wind of this,

they'll have a field day.

This changes things.

I thought we were dealing with

a psychotic, not a psychopath.

With such incredible strength,

he must be...

...under extreme mental distress

or on some kind of stimulant.

Who is this?

I'm curious. How did you know he was

going to strike at that club last night?

I didn't.

- But you were there before he struck.

- So?

That's an incredible coincidence.

Do you know what this is?

It's a medical report on you.

The doctors say you have anxiety neurosis

to the point of being paranoid.

Doctors don't know sh*t.

How many weapons are you carrying,

besides this cannon?

- An MP-15.

- What else?

- A Glock 50.

- And?

An A-3 assault shotgun.

If that's not paranoid,

I don't know what the f*** is.

I'm surprised you don't have

a grenade launcher.

- I couldn't get a permit.

- This isn't funny!

- I just want to be ready.

- Ready for what?

You can't even find the bastard,

let alone shoot him.

I can find him.

If you know so much about this fella...

...how come we've got a corpse

with her heart ripped out?

And you're up alleyways

shooting at water rats.

- Have you been following me?

- Damn right, he has.

Paranoid people with guns

are a menace to society.

You'd be paranoid, too, if you had

a dipshit like this following you.

This dipshit happens to be

an expert on serial killers.

If he's such an expert,

what the f*** is he following me for?

You're officially off suspension.

But if you f*** up again...

...I'll have your arse shipped

to the worst hellhole on this planet.

Worse than this place?

And there's a condition, Stone,

my condition.

He goes with you.

I work alone.

You work with who I say,

or you don't work at all.

'Cause as far as I'm concerned,

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