"[Helicopter whirring]" "[Men yelling]" "(man) Crockett." "Hey, you're not gonna believe this." "Okay." "Some N.C.O. Out of Da Nang." "That's about as weird as it gets." "I don't wanna see this." "Yeah, I know." "It's too much." "It's irony, man." "Dig it." "Shepherd." "Hey, wasn't there some guy named Shepherd in your unit?" "Yeah, I knew him." "[Helicopter hovering]" "Say hello to white death, man." "I knew him." "[Tires screeching]" "[People yelling]" "(Revis) This is DEA." "Cut your engines and exit from the plane." "Now!" "Step down with your hands on your head." "Don't shoot, don't shoot." "It's my dad's plane." "We're not dealers." "We were just gonna keep it for ourselves." "Shut up, Randy." "You don't have to say jack to them." "Somehow they don't strike me as the major smack dealers... we waited in the woods all night to grab." "There's nothing in the plane but a few pounds of pot." "Be advised you are now under arrest for trafficking in controlled substances." "And don't forget smoking in the bathroom." "Read them their rights." "You have the right to remain silent." "If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used... [helicopter engine whirring]" "Well, you gotta hand it to them." "When the DEA makes a bust, they come prepared, pal." "Two tons of press coverage for two pounds of grass." "Well, look, if they don't get their faces on camera, on TV or in the newspapers... how are the bad guys gonna know who to respect?" "(Stone) Crockett." "[People chattering]" "Stone?" "Get the camera out of my face." "Ira Stone." "Long time." "Oh, yeah." "Forever, man." "So?" "So, you don't look much like a high school football coach to me... or is this how the youth of America prepares for the post-season?" "Wait a minute, pal." "At least I got a job." "I've been missing your byline for say, the past 10 years, right?" "Or did you come here to record this for some teen magazine?" "Dope bust of the month." "No, this isn't my story, man." "I came along for the ride 'cause I heard you were gonna be here." "You know what my real story is, Crockett?" "No, but I can't wait for you to tell me." "Come on, Crockett." "It's the primo dope story of the decade:" "The Sergeant lives." "He's back in business, right here in South Florida." "Let me get my gear." "Lunch is gonna be on my publisher." "Background on this is gonna blow your mind." "Who's the U.F. O?" "A combat reporter I knew in Saigon." "Ira Stone." "You happy to see him?" "Yeah." "Yeah, I'm just surprised." "Danger junkies usually don't live this long." "What's this about a sergeant?" "There was this one top kick supply sergeant in Vietnam... who was said to be the major heroin connection in Nam." "Stone always wanted to investigate it." "What did he find out?" "Well, right before Saigon fell, The Sergeant... was supposedly to have arranged getting his stash out of Vietnam... in K.I.A. Bags." "It was like the final slap in the face." "Can you imagine being sent overseas to fight for your country... getting killed in action and then end up... becoming somebody's container for their stash?" "The whole damn thing was sick." "Nobody believed it." "I know I didn't." "Until... [sighing]" "Until Stone showed me this body bag during the evacuation." "It was packed with heroin." "(Stone) Man, I was so freaked out I didn't even... submit my article... which my man Crockett will testify, takes a fair amount of freakiness." "And you gave this information to Army Intelligence?" "Yes, sir." "In a sworn statement." "And then I split for New Mexico to cool out... and all the army ever came up with was... some junkie grunt up in Frisco who did himself in with a shotgun in his mouth." "And they tell me this is The Sergeant, and they close the case and it's no way." "We're ready, gentlemen." "Yeah." "Well, how do you know this guy's still alive?" "Let alone doing business here in South Florida." "Couple of months ago, a major shipment arrives from the northeast... and a lot of people are getting sick off it, which, in itself... is not all that unusual." "But my ears perk up, because I hear this stuff is Laotian, right?" "So I cop and I take the stuff to a chemist, and he tells me..." "All right?" "Hey, dig this." "The stuff is not heroin, it's six-acetyl-morphine... which is a breakdown product of the old heroin and the kicker is... what is making all these people sick is, it is loaded with methanol." "Wood alcohol." "It's what they used to preserve the corpses in Vietnam." "And what The Sergeant's stash was soaking in... all the way from Tan Son Nhut to Tacoma." "How do you know that this contaminated stash came from Florida?" "Beaucoup sources, man." "It figures." "He would want to move the stuff up north and not dump it on his own doorstep." "Yeah." "Well, Saigon fell 10 years ago." "Why wait till now to move it?" "All right, now here's where I sell the movie rights, right?" "The Sergeant comes back to the States... maybe he buys himself a big house, he hides his stash." "What if he just sits around waiting for inflation to rise?" "I mean, think of it." "I mean like 10 years ago, a cheeseburger cost about 39 cents." "There is no telling how much money this guy is sitting on right here now." "Only now, his stuff is starting to decompose... and he's gotta move his whole nest egg before it rots." "Real drag, wait around a decade and find out you're sitting on nothing." "You ought to know." "You got it, Jack." "I've been sitting around 10 years waiting to get a byline on this sucker." "Well, here's to you, pal." "I hope you get it." "I hope you help me." "Remember Maynard?" "You mean your old buddy, Capt. Real Estate?" "The one and only." "I hear he's residing in the area." "In fact I've been having a little trouble getting ahold of him." "It's really typical Maynard." "Very retired, very unlisted." "You think he knows something?" "He knew what was going on in country." "Maybe he knows about what's going on back here." "In fact I was kind of hoping maybe you could use a little of your police pull... maybe run him down for me." "Sort of an "old times" type of thing." "I should've known." "I should've known this was not a free lunch." "[Crockett laughing]" "Listen, I'll look into that number for you." "All right." "And thanks again for lunch." "Okay." "Thanks, man." "[Crockett grunts]" "Quite a little tale." "Yeah, pretty weird." "You don't even know the half of it." "Yeah, one or two minor flaws." "So?" "I'm just calling them like I see it." "(Crockett) Rico, I shared some rather radical times... with this guy in Vietnam." "What am I gonna do, tell him to get lost?" "All right, Lieutenant, these are last month's homicide registers... from Chicago, New York, Boston and Cleveland... which verify what Stone said about the unclassified deaths... from methanol poisoning." "We even had one here at the VA." "Now, maybe the idea that The Sergeant is still alive is a crazy one." "I'll grant you that." "But there's gotta be something to what Stone said." "This guy was an ace reporter in Vietnam and I'd like to help him if I can." "I'll even take a couple of days off and do it on my own time." "Just run down the VA connection." "Then let Stone do his job so you can do yours." "Thank you." "[People chattering]" "(Stone) What was he like when you talked to him last?" "[Crystal Ship playing]" "Did he seem depressed or... did he seem like something was wrong?" "Did he do anything strange?" "Was he acting funny?" "Look, I didn't know your friend... but I really think I know how you're feeling... because I had a lot of friends in the war who ended up tying off one too many times." "Then, why don't you go talk to one of their roommates?" "[Sighs]" "Hey, man, having somebody out on the streets selling bad news... ain't doing anybody any favors." "I told you, I don't know nothing." "What, are you telling me you don't know where your best buddy scored bad smack?" "I told you..." "I don't know." "And I don't know nothing about The Sergeant." "You're disturbing our game, man." "Hey, take it easy." "You take it easy." "And you take your questions elsewhere." "What's all this friction about, man?" "I'm trying to find out the guy who scored your best buddy poison." "No, you're trying to find out how you can get a cover story... with your name in the credits." "No, I'm not." "Look, we're tired of being used here." "The public is just starting to remember who we are... and then you want to come in here with this... story about some whacko sergeant and bad smack." "The last thing we need, the last thing anybody needs to hear right now... is one more bad memory." "That's what I'm talking about." "This is not a memory, okay?" "This is a story that is happening right now." "What are you guys trying to prove?" "The guy was a junkie and he died." "(man) You need a story, man?" "I'll give you a story." "I left half a leg in Da Nang." "Why don't you write about that?" "How they put a pin in my hip... that was two inches too short... 'cause the VA didn't have the funding to carry the right size." "Or isn't that as colorful as The Sergeant?" "Look, man, I don't give a damn about a sergeant or any other story." "One of your buddies out of this ward died... of an overdose of street drugs... and it's my job to investigate it." "We're just asking for some help." "Just like you." "Now, if anybody hears of anything or knows anything..." "I'd appreciate a call." "Come on, let's go." "[Sighing]" "They got a right to feel that way, man." "They've been misrepresented, exploited and forgotten to the max." "Don't worry, once they read your story... and realize that you understand, you'll be the hero." "You'll show them your Pulitzer." "[Chuckles]" "Me again." "Is he in for Mr. Stone?" "Just a second." "Hi, Stone again for Maynard." "I had to step out of my office for a while and I thought maybe I missed his call." "Well, no, I had a weird feeling... he's been trying to get in touch with me." "All right, why don't you just tell him... that I had a very interesting story to tell him... and I thought he would like to know about it." "Thank you very much." "(Crockett) The last recon run into Cambodia... we got hit hard at dusk." "Heavy K.I.A. S on both sides." "Then, after dark... shadows across the fields." "See, our team leader slips outside the perimeter... and locates their dead... and starts screaming insults at them." "The place is crawling with V. C... and he's out there humiliating the dead." "Crazy." "Then I'm back in this mud hole." "Hell, they were all mud holes." "I see this kid... this kid corporal and he's... blowing away these beautiful LRRP dogs." "I say, "What..." "Man, what the hell are you doing?"" "And dig it, the deal is... he's blowing away these dogs... because he's trained them so righteously... that they're too damned dangerous to bring back to the United States." "And I kept thinking..." "I should blow him away for the same reason." "Then someone should blow me away." "Then he should be blown away." "[Missile whizzing]" "Incoming!" "[Missile exploding]" "(Stone) Incoming!" "(Stone) Show them your evade, man!" "Flash them some gone!" "(Crockett) All right!" "All right!" "So, who?" "We're talking about someone very special." "It was mortar for sure?" "Come on." "We got a very weird weapon of choice to start with." "Start at the other end." "Maybe the hit wasn't on Sonny." "It was on Stone." "We may have rattled someone at the VA." "I'm already looking into that, Lieutenant." "Good." "Work the back-story on the dope." "Switek, you have a connection on some old Laotian white?" "Cross check with him." "Stay with Stone." "Don't let him lead." "[People chattering]" "Look, Tubbs, just because a leather bar... isn't the kind of place you'd hang out... doesn't mean it can't be a gold mine of information." "Well, calm down, man." "I was just asking." "You know, you and Crockett get to corner the market on the high rollers... but me and Lar, we gotta improvise." "You'd be surprised about how much information... you can get out of your basic middle-class snitch." "Yeah?" "Kind of like a family sort of thing." "Family sort of thing." "Okay." "Yeah." "A leather bar, right?" "Sort of family scene?" "Yeah." "You know, take this guy Harold, for instance." "He's good people." "Harold!" "It's Zoom." "I'm a friend of Thumper's." "Come on, man, it's cool." "Open up." "[Five To One playing]" "(Stan) Harold." "Come on, man!" "You promised me you quit." "He doesn't look so good." "Harold." "Harold." "Look at this." "Check that out." "I'll get an ambulance." "Harold." "I'm fine, man." "Feel great." "Harold, where'd you cop, man?" "The End." "See Dakotah." "She'll take good care of you." "Hello?" "Yeah, hi, Dakotah." "It's Stone." "Yeah, I found you, baby." "Good." "Right." "Yeah." "Listen." "What?" "See, I'd like to make a buy." "No, not information." "The bad thing, okay?" "(Stone) I don't know." "We're getting nowhere, man." "(Crockett) Well, one more little stop." "I got a surprise for you." "You know, I'm getting bad vibes." "Here we go." "Your old buddy, Capt. Real Estate." "You wanted me to find him?" "Well, I found him." "In the middle of a party?" "It's very uncool, man." "Anyway, I already talked to Maynard." "You did?" "Yeah, I talked to him this morning." "Maynard's useless, man." "He's nowhere." "And you call yourself a journalist?" "Come on, man." "Maynard was a heavy spook in country." "You said so yourself." "Old Capt. Real Estate had the listing on everybody." "What's he gonna not tell you that he hasn't already not told me, huh?" "Well, I don't know." "But let's go lean on him a little bit and find out." "[People chattering]" "[Blues music playing]" "Thank you." "Palm Beach meets the Cong." "Be cool, man." "Well, it's amazing how much fun I'm having, you know." "Come on, I thought you got along with this guy." "Hey, that was in country, man." "I got along with everybody back there." "This is the real world." "Excuse me." "Sonny Crockett." "Hello, sir." "How are you?" "And Ira Stone." "My God, how long has it been?" "Ten." "Ten plus." "Nice little theme park you got here." "Is there someplace we can talk, sir?" "Yeah, we can go to my office." "Follow me." "Thank you." "(Capt. Real Estate) As far as I'm concerned... all those rumors about a Sergeant are nonsense." "Like so much of what we did over there." "Probably what happened was, suicide kid was a Vietcong plant." "Set him up with the drugs, connections... then just wait for the propaganda coup it almost became." "That's a classic Chi-Com strategy." "I don't know what else I can tell you, except it was probably a legitimate OD." "(Crockett) I beg your pardon?" "In California." "It was a real suicide." "We didn't kill him." "My sources tell me they didn't, either." "These things happen." "End of story." "A short one unfortunately, for you." "I know how disappointed you must be after all these years." "You know what you are, man?" "You're a pig." "A U.S.D. A certified P-l-G." "The world is a very complicated place, son." "The world is a world of hurt because guys and guys like you... are always spooking around in it with your duplicitous games... and your assassins and your extreme prejudice." "If you say so, Stone." "I say so!" "You better take care of your friend, Sonny." "Let's just forget about the whole thing, man, all right?" "What's the matter with you?" "It don't mean nothing." "What kind of a game..." "Let's just let it die." "I was a little strung out, okay?" "Maybe I didn't want to tell you about it... 'cause I was a little bit embarrassed about it, all right?" "But now we're here where we are right now and I'm sick of this whole movie, okay?" "It don't mean nothing." "The only reason I believed The Sergeant was alive... is 'cause I wanted to believe it... 'cause it was a good story and it was gonna get my career back on track... but it don't mean nothing." "Wait a minute." "You're telling me some stuff... that I need to know the insides of." "I am telling you, man, it don't mean nothing." "Wrong, man." "It does mean something." "You're telling me something here, man, because my partner found... some contaminated heroin out on the street right now." "And you still get high... but it's like shooting a syringe full of bacteria at the same time." "So The Sergeant may be dead... but his stash is still very much alive and killing people." "It was all a lie, man." "I made it all up." "Well, you didn't make up Scotty Shepherd." "You didn't make up the fact that we found that smack... in the body bags on that ship, man." "We pulled it right out of his chest!" "Now, look, if you're sick, if you need any help, I'll help you, man." "Whatever it is, I'll take care of you." "Whatever it is." "Look, man, you leave me alone." "It's damn sad." "Maybe the war covered Stone, Sonny." "You ever think about that?" "Stone?" "Hey, man." "[Tires screeching]" "I'm Dakotah." "You say Harold sent you?" "Yeah, he said that you and I might have mutual interests." "Mutual interests?" "Yeah." "[Roadhouse Blues playing]" "(Tubbs) Of the downtown area." "Why don't we move to a safer neighborhood?" "Boy, I sure hope that cop didn't follow me in here." "[Toilet flushing]" "I'm assuming here that you guys have more for me... than a tour of the corporate headquarters." "I'm trying to get in touch with an old Laotian friend of mine." "I'm sure he'll be very happy to see me." "Oh, yeah?" "Why is that?" "'Cause I hear that he's getting older by the minute." "Now I can afford his company and your fee." "No, thanks, but I got my own." "Construction blow?" "Working man's caviar?" "No?" "All righty." "I can put you in touch, but you'll have to get in line." "What are you telling us, we got competition?" "Well, then why are you talking to us?" "Unless you think that he won't come through." "Hey, the man said he was a journalist." "I don't know where his money is coming from." "Maybe he's stealing from his magazine." "These days, money comes from all kind of places." "Yeah, well, my money comes from my pockets." "Now, if you want to do business..." "Okay." "Let me get in touch with my source." "What about the journalist?" "He's my problem." "How much do you really know about your man Stone?" "Save the dance for the nightclubs." "How come he didn't let us know he contacted Dakotah?" "How come he wanted us to think that he was cribbing uptown?" "What are you talking about?" "He's staying in a joint near the causeway." "At least that's where Gina spotted your car." "Show me." "(Mrs. Stone) Yeah?" "Who are you?" "You're supposed to ring before you come up." "Have you seen a cab downstairs?" "Is there a cab waiting?" "I'm a friend of Stone's." "Great." "I'm his soon-to-be ex-wife." "Can we talk a minute?" "So, what do you guys do besides feed fantasies about friendship?" "(Tubbs) Import, export." "No kidding." "What, glue?" "You guys look like a couple of heavy duty glue dealers to me." "(Crockett) No, I'm a friend." "I knew Stone in Vietnam." "I wanna help." "You wanna help?" "Get me a cab." "Look..." "No, you look." "Stone is a liar, a junkie and a fool... and he's never even had cab fare for as long as we've been together." "He got out of detox last month." "Seventh time." "Guess who paid again?" "He called me down here from New York." "He said this trip was gonna fix everything for us." "Ha-ha!" "A second honeymoon, he said." "Now that all the work is done on his big secret story... all the suffering from the war is finally gonna amount to something." "Yes, oh, yes." "Poor Stone and all his psychic wounds." "I get here and all he needs is money." "I can't even believe I spent a night in this place." "Then there's some bimbo calling all the time." "Probably his connection." "It's unbelievable." "I paid for the first honeymoon, too, by the way." "Do you know where he is?" "I paid for everything." "It's pathetic." "He's pathetic." "I'm sorry." "Don't patronize me." "I'm not patronizing you, lady." "He's in trouble... and if you ever cared for him for even a little bit... you better be straight with me now." "When was Stone ever straight with anybody?" "He's always gonna be the same, and he's always gonna be a loser." "And you know what I hope?" "I hope he dies." "You always this hard, lady?" "Gee, whiz." "Dime says that the bimbo is Dakotah." "Let's run her down." "Who are you?" "I wanna know where Stone is right now." "You guys are cops, aren't you?" "I asked you a question." "I'm thinking." "Think faster!" "1445 Rosario Drive." "It's a warehouse." "Who's he meeting there?" "I don't know." "Take a guess!" "I've never met my source." "He's got some chow with pointy teeth." "That's his middleman." "That's the only man I've met." "Is she telling the truth?" "Absolutely." "[Panting]" "[Break On Through playing]" "(Stone) I have been laying for you for 10 years, Sergeant." "Only thing that stops this story now is American cash." "I know you can handle it because you already started laying the stuff off... and all you gotta do is lay it off a little faster, okay?" "Then you can afford to pay me and the story will never see print." "I mean, you know what I'm talking about, right?" "Which one?" "The supplier." "We gotta put him with the product." "[Tires screeching]" "[Both panting]" "You okay?" "Yeah." "You all right?" "Yeah, I'm just a little shook up." "You didn't happen to get a look at him, did you?" "Yeah. 50, with a moustache." "What the hell's going on here, Sonny?" "Is Stone buying or selling?" "Yeah, he's selling, all right." "Selling out." "[Sighs]" "It's the American dream, Tubbs." "It's about time." "Take me to the airport." "You do know where the airport is, don't you?" "Is that the guy you saw?" "Yeah." "The Sergeant... alias Maynard... alias good old Capt. Real Estate." "He got his name because... every area he got interested in back in Vietnam turned hot." "Everybody made him for a CIA heavy." "He was always asking me about football and... what I was gonna do back in the world." "God, I sort of liked him." "And he was this tremendous source of information for Stone." "Maybe Stone knew that Maynard was The Sergeant... before he came down here." "I don't want to think about that." "But I gotta believe... that he knew he was gonna blackmail The Sergeant if he found him." "All he needed was for somebody to lead him to him." "What are old friends for, right?" "(Mrs. Maynard) What he said was:" ""Tell Mr. Crockett that I really need to talk to him alone." ""Because I'm extremely worried about our mutual friend, Mr. Stone."" "Those were his exact words and inflections." "Where did he go?" "Fishing." "He's got a favorite spot in the Keys." "There's no phones." "You'll have to go down there if there's anything important." "Men and their rugged fantasies." "When did he leave?" "This morning before I got up." "He took Mr. Hmung with him." "Hmung?" "(Mrs. Maynard) Our gardener." "Very attached to my husband." "They knew each other in Laos." "Mr. Hmung was left in one of those terrible prison camps... till my husband was able to get him out just last year." "My husband and I have sponsored 17 Vietnamese so far." "But Mr. Hmung is his favorite, and I must say... his Chinese peonies are spectacular." "[I Can't See Your Face playing]" "I think you're making a big mistake here, Stone." "What this would really make is a great pulp novel." "Well, 20 minutes and my people put a manuscript in the mail." "Look, we both know we're sitting on a story... that's very big, very painful for all of us." "For you and for me." "And from the patriotic perspective you love so well... this wonderful country of ours." "You know, of course, that in most parts of the world... pain is a second language." "People understand it better than words... because you can get right to the point." "But in this country, we don't really have very much pain." "So the second language is money." "Naturally, you'd expect to receive money for what you know... instead of pain." "How ironic." "Nineteen minutes, Maynard." "The manuscript." "Yes." "You mean this manuscript?" "The one you gave to your loyal wife, just in case?" "The big, painful story?" "Good news." "Your divorce came through." "Mr. Hmung made it very final." "[Grunting]" "(Stone) Medic!" "Medic!" "Medic!" "[Groaning]" "You ain't great... but you'll make it." "If I feel like it." "Do me a favor, feel like it." "I'll be waiting for you here." "Could have gone anywhere." "(Crockett) They're not trying to get away." "They know they gotta kill us." "[My Eyes Have Seen You playing]" "[Boat engine starting]" "We'll put in a call to the Coast Guard." "Come on." "Take it easy, buddy." "It's all amazing." "I think we got an ending to my story." "(Crockett) Don't talk." "[Panting]" "(Tubbs) I'll radio MedEvac." "It's real ironic." "Isn't it ironic?" "Isn't it ironic?" "Take it easy, buddy." "Take it easy."