"my name is michael westen." "i used to be a spy until... we got a burn notice." "you're blacklisted." "when you're burned, you've got nothing - no cash, no credit, no job history." "you're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in." " where am i?" " miami." "you do whatever work comes your way." "you rely on anyone who's still talking to you." "a trigger-happy ex-girlfriend... should we shoot them?" "...an old friend who used to inform on you to the fbi... you know spies... a bunch of bitchy little girls." "...family, too... is that your mom again?" "...if you're desperate." "someone needs your help." "bottom line, until you figure out who burned you, you're not going anywhere." "there aren't many rules in the spy trade." "there are a few agreements that most intelligence agencies honor, though." "low-level agents get traded, not prosecuted." "you don't shoot foreign operatives if you can avoid it." "and you stay away from embassies and consulates." "mike, look, you know i'm up for just about anything, but this this is like cursing in church." "i mean, technically, this is foreign soil." "no, technically, it's just trespassing the one perk of being burned." "my crimes are just crimes, not acts of war." "but does it have to be the pakistani consulate?" "couldn't it be... i don't know jamaica?" "those guys are probably very easy going." "and they're not gonna know anything about carla." "look, she's just an employee, mikey some agent they sent to boss you around." " it's not like she burned you personally." " you don't know that. she's all i got." "look, if she worked in kurdistan, the pakistanis might have a file on her." "i don't know. i mean, the... the prints she left on veronica's camera did not come up in any government system, and my buddies checked around, like you wanted." " they didn't come up with anything." " that's why i'm making a new friend." "look, i got to believe that the best intelligence outfit in the region took a few notes when she took off her burka and started wreaking havoc." "look, if you don't want to help, i can ask fiona." "no. no. it's fine. fine." "you guys need your space." "now that she's not your girlfriend anymore, i guess it's probably weird" " she was never my girlfriend, sam." " okay, mike." "consulates are a great place to renew your visa, pay your taxes back home, or find foreign spies working under diplomatic cover." "hey. hey. back of the line right here, pal." "rich franklin, miami herald." "they call to say i was coming?" "of course they didn't. i need a couple of visas. i'm doing a piece on foreign trade. i need visas for my editor. i need one for me." "i need it pronto. i'm sorry. i need it right now." "like all bureaucrats, consulate employees live in fear of a pissed-off journalist." "what a crock." "sir, can i just... i just would like to get in front of you, just for like... hey, look." "do i need to speak pakistani?" " can you not understand what i'm saying?" " sir, you are from The Herald?" " miami herald." " oh, i am so sorry for the mix-up." " please, come with me to my office." " this guy takes cuts." "this is how it works around here. what, do you got to know somebody around here?" "you must be getting a lot of that lately." "i'm talking about textiles here, okay?" "i'm sure it's nothing." "i hear it's getting harder and harder to do business in pakistan." "i'm opening a factory in lahore in seven days." "if i don't get these sign-offs today, ain't gonna be nothing on those looms, sugar lips." "just take a seat." "Waseem." "most of the people who work in a consulate are just municipal drones enjoying an overseas post." "but the head of security... that guy's almost always a spy." "this is baloney. come on." "like, today would be..." " excuse me, sir." " what's your problem?" "sir, you need to lower your volume, first of all." "this is my regular speaking voice." " this is not your regular speaking voice." " this is my regular speaking volume, sir." " don't patronize me." " okay, let's start over." "hello. how are you?" "you are shouting!" "this is not proper for this kind of place." "but you're shouting back." "you're causing the same problem." " i'm a loud american." " please take a look at that." "this is the volume for a cattle market or a vegetable cart or something." "sign that, and this guy's out of here." "no, you don't tell me what to do. who are you?" "one job of a security chief is babysitting the secrets." "if one goes missing, it's a big deal, even if it's just transactional data on chemical imports." "steal a few files, no matter how boring, and you've got leverage." " sir." " yes." "i would like to invite you to lower your voice." "okay. how's that?" "is that better?" " you're mocking me!" " i am not." "play your cards right, and you can trade what you've got for what you want." "in any covert operation, your first concern is remaining undetected." "you're dealing. do you have any cards to play?" "again?" "!" "whether you're infiltrating a military base or getting car parts from your mom's garage without her knowing, staying invisible is tough." "and no matter how good you are... michael. there you are!" "i thought you couldn't make it. come on in!" "...sometimes they're better." "fi, how's it going?" "i'm down to the felt." "full-boat phyllis here didn't tell me she used to deal hold 'em... in reno." " your girlfriend's getting creamed." " she's not my girlfriend." "okay, honey, whatever you say." " yeah. thing is..." " what?" "yeah. we're not... well, we're still working together, but the other part... that's... well, we've closed the door on that." " why do you always do this?" " i didn't do it this time. she did." " right." " let's play poker!" "i mean, exactly. now, how does a boy ever find a loan shark in the first place?" " the yellow pages?" " sure. that works." "andy's in deep trouble with that man." "if he doesn't come up with the money, they're going to hurt him again." "it's just awful." "diane's been through so much." "you know, michael sometimes helps people with problems like this." " we both do." " really?" " fi, what was that?" " what was what?" ""michael helps people with problems like this sometimes"?" "well, you do." "the guy borrowed money from a loan shark." "yeah, a dumb thing to do, but he made the deal, he owes the money, and we have no business getting involved with that." "he borrowed the money to invest in his mom's retirement." "stupid, yes, and sweet." "and now she's gonna lose the house." "what is this about, fi?" "you really care that much about some lady you never met living out in boca raton with a bunch of cats?" " you owe me." " i gave you the car." "you owe me more than that." "i want to do this because this guy, andy, chose to put somebody he loved before himself." "that's why." "let's go." "hello." "phyllis said you were handsome." "And single, too." "can you believe it?" "yeah, let's talk about your problem." "i hear your son's having trouble with a loan shark." "andy's a good boy, a kind boy. it's just he's a lot like his father was." "he just doesn't always... think." "how much did he borrow, diane?" "$200,000, and the man said that if he doesn't return the money... well, he can't return it." "he doesn't have it." " uh, he a gambler?" " no. god, no." "he's a cellphone salesman. he invested it." "it was... it was sweet, really." "i mean, the cancer didn't get me, but the medical bills might." "so he was just trying to... to make money so he could take care of me." "what's going on here, ma?" "look, i have $200 left in savings. please, you can have it. you can have all of it." "just, please, make sure he doesn't hurt my boy anymore." "no!" "absolutely not!" "we talked about this." "this is my problem." "well, it's not just your problem now, is it?" " who are you?" " we're people who can help." "oh, my... i don't think there's anything we can do." "he says i got to pay him, but i can't." "loan sharks are businessmen." "we'll strike a deal with him, set up a payment plan." "how much money can you still get your hands on?" "uh, none of it." "i put it in this club, and it's gone." " all of it?" " it was a high-risk, high-reward-type deal." "a little... illegal." "that's why the money all had to be cash." "let's start from the beginning." "okay, but can we..." "talk about it outside?" "yes." "a few months ago, i started going to velvet, this club on south beach, and i got to know the owner, zeke." "zeke." "he's a really good guy." "he cut me in on the club... partnership." "i put up five grand." "dude, i'm telling you, i saw dividends right away." "zeke would pull these fat wads of cash out of the safe right in the back." "i mean like..." " fat wads. got it." " yeah. so anyway, one day, zeke comes to me, says he can get me in on this new place he's gonna open... 200k... full partnership." "thing is, the club is... in cuba, hence the cash-only thing." "shady, i know, but zeke says we're looking at like 1,000% return on investment." " so you went in." " yeah." "i had to get the cash together." "my mom's got bills." "anyway, so i go one day to deliver the cash to zeke's house, and i'm telling you, the minute i put the cash on the table, the fbi swarms the place." "can i tell the rest of the story just to save time?" "the feds rush in, arrest zeke, but not before rushing you out the back." "zeke's under indictment, but he's promising not to turn you in." " the feds take the cash, but..." " at least you got your freedom." " how did you..." " andy, you were conned." " but the feds..." " they weren't feds. they were actors." "it's a classic kiss-off." "zeke's a con man." " i'm such an idiot." " look at the bright side." "you might get to keep your kneecaps." "do you think... you think zeke will give me the money back when he finds out i'm onto him?" "no. but there are other ways we can get your money back." "Look at her." "and her. i bet she'd be fun." "are you shopping for me or for you?" "you are gonna have to get back out there sooner or later." "no, what i have to do is get back there." "andy said zeke's office is just past the vip room." "good bet he keeps the cash there. probably launders the money through the club." "fi, the cash. the safe." "i don't understand why you refuse to mix business with pleasure." "can we focus?" "our ticket to the back room just showed up." "you're no fun, michael." "now, zeke, on the other hand, looks like he knows how to have a good time." "exploiting an asset is easier when they have a vice, an addiction you can feed..." "drugs, money, respect, women." "breaking into the safe shouldn't be too hard." "getting invited into the back... shouldn't be too difficult, either." "why don't you go and meet your pakistani spy and let me take care of this?" "just don't... just... just..." "just don't work too hard!" ""i will be wearing a white shirt and... "" "what's this word right here?" "it's a kind of a spicy goat cheese." "i was trying to say "black pants. " my urdu is a little rusty." "at least you got the name of the restaurant right." " i'm waseem ali khan, and you are..." " just a friend who needs a favor." "mm. well, i need a favor, too. i would like those documents returned. so what can i do for you?" "so direct. it's refreshing." "i'm looking for a spy... a woman who worked in kurdistan about 15 years ago." "i don't have her real name, but she was very distinctive." "very attractive. very forceful. i'm sure she made a big splash. your intel might have some info on it?" "what you want is worth more than what you have." "sorry. wish i could help." "come on, waseem. pick up the phone. call back home." "to land a gig like this in miami, you got to be pretty well connected." "i am, and i'd like to stay that way." "so go ahead. leak those documents." "i'd rather take my chances than ask for an eyes-only dossier on a foreign operative." "now, uh... how are the peach mojitos here, hmm?" "if you need to get into a secure area, the best approach is to give yourself a good reason to be there." "now it's just us." "why sneak past guards when you can just spill a martini?" " oh, bloody hell!" " i'm sorry." " where's your loo?" " out the front and around the bar." "you want me to go out there looking like this?" "no. no, of course not. use mine." "a hairpin is one of the most versatile tools in a thief's arsenal." "it's as good as a key most of the time, but not when the lock is a magnetic-card reader." "zeke is one careful con man. he's security-conscious." "he's smart. he's smooth, too, in a cheesy, sam kind of way." "hey, smooth is smooth, baby." "club is locked down tight." "we want to get to the safe, we need zeke's key card, and he keeps it on him all the time." "can't you lift it, sticky fingers?" "yes, i can, but i already made my play." "he'll get suspicious if i duck and come back again." "so it's looks like a two-man job now." "yeah, the trouble is, zeke only lets girls and marks past security." "yeah, so one of us has to play the fool." "i know who i'd vote for." "see you tonight. you're perfect for it, michael." "hey, how's that thing going with your new pakistani pal?" "he's a good guy. he likes miami." "there might be an angle there." "diane?" "they're here, on the porch." "andy, get away from the door!" "sit tight. we're coming." "how about if i handle the lookout and you deal with whatever is going on inside?" " that seems fair." " yeah." "he's, um, he's an old guy. little frail, but he's probably armed." "stop, please!" "we don't have anything." "i'm terribly sorry, but your son... he's very late with my money." "guys, guys. wifebeaters..." "so not a good look." " who's this?" "who are you?" " i'm a friend." "now, we can come to some kind of an arrangement." " you're a businessman, right?" " i am." "this man owes me $200,000." "with the vig, $230,000." "and you're gonna have it. look at this." "the key to hand-to-hand combat is being able to close the distance between you and your opponent without putting them on their guard." "these are nice people." "the is not necessary." "we don't have to do this." "i mean, guys, come on." " impressive." " we don't want any trouble." "okay, but now it's on you, too." "two days. if i have my money, there'll be no more trouble." "if i don't, you'll need a lot more than a magazine." "two days?" "how can we get that kind of money in two days?" "keep it on." "we're gonna hit the club tonight." "you know how to crack safes?" "some, but i can't crack just any safe. i need some details." "andy, do you think you would recognize zeke's safe if you saw it again?" "i think so, but how are you going to get to the safe?" "zeke's got these two huge guys guarding the vip." "he only takes women back there." "andy, you got back there." "oh, sure, but i was an investor." "andy, you're looking at zeke's new mark." " what's up, waseem?" "!" " how unexpected." "trina, meet my friend, uh... mr. inconsiderate. i should've brought a fruit salad." "so, waseem, have you given any more thought to what we talked about?" "i'm sorry, but no." "so you really don't want your documents back?" "i wouldn't say that. i'd say the price is too high." "really?" "too high." "i could get six figures from any number of buyers, and they'd all have a bone to pick with pakistan." "you're sure you're not interested?" "what's bad for pakistan and what's bad for Waseem... they aren't necessarily the same thing." "i know what you mean. you're a tough one, waseem. you win." "take your documents back." "honey, he's a keeper." "i wouldn't let go of him." "all this stuff belongs to fiona?" "is she a locksmith?" "no. just a hobby of hers." "you sure that's the safe?" "yeah. i remember that dial." "so, once you're into zeke's office, what?" "you just drill through the lock?" "it's not a high-end safe. i just knock the lock off with a hammer." "the real problem will be carrying the cash out of the club." "right. cash is heavy." "i brought mine to zeke in an overnight bag. you want to borrow my duffel?" "no. they're gonna carry the cash out for us themselves." "gonna stuff it into a trash bag, give it to the busboys, and then bring it out to the dumpster." "listen, uh... i brought you something from the store." "i wish i could pay you, but it's all i got." "think you can use a bunch of cellphones?" "yeah. i can find a use for them." " Michael?" " no, andy. andy. andy. no!" "hi. you must be andy." " yeah." " i'm michael's mom." "your son's been helping me out." "i got to get going, but i just want to say your son's awesome..." "smartest guy i ever met." " thank you." " all right." "sweet kid. i can see why he's in trouble." "mom, i got to get to work, actually. what is it you need?" " well, i can't find my salad spinner." " that is tragic." "well, i lost it during poker." "did you take it?" "ma, why are you here?" "it's this thing with fiona." "just tell me what happened between you and fiona, and then you can go to work." "i don't know what you want me to say." "michael, please." "i don't know what it is you're thinking, but fiona is the best thing in your life." "you're the best thing in my life." "don't be that way, michael." "i want you to talk to me." " i don't want to talk about it." " fine." "you don't want to talk about it?" "i'll talk to fiona." "great." " who's your friend?" " you don't know davis?" "he's wild." " he's some oil baron's kid." " oh, yeah?" "you want to introduce me?" "you're a veg-atarian?" "what?" "say... there she is!" "damn!" "davis, zeke. zeke, davis." "friend, you're ruining my ratio." "i have a good ratio going on." "I got four ladies to one davis. four to one, i like that." "oh, i-i can fix that. ladies." "now you're talking. i'm davis cullen." "my name's zeke. is that a texas drawl i hear?" " born and raised." " Pardon me." "honey bear?" "it's been a long... honey bear, he's gonna have to call you back. he's gonna mind his manners." "that was rude. my apologies." " how about a bottle of dom?" " what is this?" "breakfast?" "whiskey, then. why don't we take this party back to a private location?" " round up, ladies!" " come on." "so, fi tells me that you're into oil." "well, that was daddy's business." "i got the hell out of killeen as fast as i could." "4:00 a. m. is for going to bed, not getting up." "amen to that, brother." "so, what do you do, davis?" "little of this, little of that." "how'd you like to add "club owner" to your portfolio?" "usually, i bring in people slow... offer them limited partnerships in velvet, see how it goes. but with you, i can see you're like me, a player." "i'm not even gonna waste your time in the shallow end." "don't then. say something, son." "i'm opening a new club in havana." "havana..." "last time i checked, that was in cuba." "we deal only in cash. no legal hiccups that way." "It's gonna be huge." "the upside is enormous." " now, how much you putting in?" " me?" "plenty." "i mean, no cash, but sweat equity." "believe me, the cash, that's the easy part." "why don't you boys stop playing with each other..." ".. and play with me instead?" "this whiskey is running right through me!" "where's the head?" "uh, that way." "there are two schools of safecracking." "some people like to beat the lock." "some people like to break the lock. but it doesn't much matter when the safe is sitting wide open." "good counterfeit money is more expensive than you think." "if you're looking to fake money on the cheap, a real bill bound to a stack of filler will do." "time to collect the trash?" "this safe is nothing but a prop to impress marks." "there's nothing in here but a few hundreds and some newspapers." " so, where's the real safe?" " no time to look." "i don't want any more surprises." "i'm putting ears on this guy." "put your phone on mute and plug it in." "aw, mike, you're tying up my cell?" "well, how's veronica supposed to get ahold of me?" "tell her to try the bar at carlito's." " yeah, fi?" " michael, you got a problem." "it looks like zeke's got partners." "i think you need to hurry it up." "30 years ago, the cia would've killed for bugs as small as cellphones." "they're the perfect improvised listening device, but they burn juice like a humvee." "if there's no charger handy, an unused usb port will do the trick." "michael, it's really time to go." "your cover's about to be blown." "almost done." " sam, you there?" " yeah. yeah." " you want to talk some business?" " maybe a little later!" "i think it's time for me and this little lady to get to know each other better." "you don't mind, do you, partner?" "there was nothing in the safe?" "newspaper... fat wads of it." "man, we got one day." "i got baranski calling me for his money, and now you're telling me... settle down." "see?" "michael doesn't look worried." "sharp lady, your ma." "remember zeke's partners, the guys who played the feds that stung you?" "listen to what zeke was telling them last night." "i'm telling you, this davis cat is big-time, and he's hungry." "what kind of timetable are you looking at?" "how soon can you rent the house?" "see, he wants to score, so it's just a matter of convincing him that the only way he's gonna see our money is if he shows us his first, and when he does... they're going to con him, trick him into giving them the money." "oh. okay. cool." "cool." "zeke, this is chuck the pain-in-the-ass wet nurse that's watching my money." "charles finley, sole executor of mr. cullen's trust." "i'm running a quart low. i'm gonna get back here and serve myself." "sir, do you have any idea who you're getting into bed with here?" "davis cullen can be... difficult." "i mean, there have been a few incidents." " i think i'll take my chances." " don't say i didn't warn you." "fair enough." "now, whatwe'retalking about is 200 grand." "hmm. not insubstantial." "what's your commitment?" "well, as i explained to mr." "cullen, i don't invest financially." " however, my time, my expertise..." " oh, i see." "to win a negotiation, you have to show you're willing to walk away." "i don't share in the same kind of profits, either, of course." "by getting in on the ground floor of our club in havana, mr. cullen can expect..." " i'm sorry, sir." " did you say havana?" "yes." "and the best way to show you're willing to walk away is to walk away." "where are you going?" "sir, it is my fiduciary duty to protect mr. cullen's estate." "not a penny moves without my sign-off - not a penny, and i can't very well sign off on anything in cuba." "good day." " i don't think we have a deal." " son of a bitch!" "well, we'll see about this!" "for the hostess." "i figured i'm gonna need to get you girls half in the bag if i'm gonna hold my own at poker today." "um, yeah. well, about that..." " am i early?" " no. no. no." "I asked the girls if they'd come an hour later." "i wanted some time to talk to you alone." "please." "well, what's on your mind?" "this breakup." "the two of you are making a huge mistake." "if you don't mind my saying." " madeline..." " no, please, listen." "i need you to know you are the best thing that ever happened to michael." "he's different when you're around." "he's better." "he's almost happy." "thank you for saying that." "it's more than he's ever said himself." "i know." "his father was the same way." "but i see the way he looks at you, fiona." "i'll always... i'll always care about your son, madeline." "you know, i-i just can't be the second... most important thing in his life." "i can't blame you for that, honey." "hurry back." "a pakistani spy eating in an indian restaurant... my friend, you have gone native." "oh, i like the chicken tikka." "what do you want?" "same as ever, i just want that file." "kind of looks like you're taking a bribe, doesn't it?" "maybe." " but it's flimsy." " i don't know." "you're taking a kickback there. you're accepting a free lunch right now." " this is on me, by the way." " rajiv!" "i haven't done anything wrong." "that's right, and you could explain all of this to your boss back home, probably even keep your job, but your time in miami would be over." "you've been made, approached, possibly compromised." "you'd be relocated to a different consulate." "where do you think they'd send you libya, honduras?" "how's serbia these days?" " i thought you wanted to be friends." " we can still be friends." "all i want is a 10-year-old file, remember?" "but if you really think leaving the beaches, the blondes, and the brunettes is worth it... that's your call, waseem." "despite my strenuous objections, mr. cullen has impressed upon me his desire to move forward." "well, i'm glad to see that cooler heads have prevailed." "i have two conditions as executor of mr. cullen's trust, i still have to protect myself legally, so i'm afraid that neither of these are negotiable." "first, i need to see some paperwork, and none of it had better mention cuba." "well, shouldn't be much of a problem to dummy up some paperwork." "wonderful." "secondly, and this is vital, we need to know that you are as financially committed as mr. cullen." "as i explained before- i will hold mr. cullen's $200,000 off shore in a joint escrow account." "if you would like to see this deal go through, you will have to put matching funds into the same account." "yeah. well, i never put up my own money." "awkward." "mr. cullen, i'm very sorry." "i tried - twice." "you've seen that. but, uh, i'm sorry." "i cannot allow you to be involved in this." "fine." "let's do this." "very well. ready your funds." "we'll make the transfers tomorrow." "I only need the money for one day." " no. no way." " this is stupid. i got a whale here." " don't you see that?" " you need to watch yourself, zeke." "you're just the base." "you don't like how we do it, you can go back to tending bar." "if you can get him out to the house so we can give him the brush-off, fine." "otherwise, cut him loose." "sounds like zeke's partners have veto power." "so he can't put up any money." "we need to deal with baranski." " i've got five hours." " i'm gonna get us some more time." "hello. how are we this evening?" "oh, we're good. we're gonna get you the money. we just need a little more time." "that is acceptable." "i can wait." "but there is someone here who does not share the same patience." "tell andy his mother is very disappointed with him." "listen to me very carefully. you do not want to hurt that woman." "you're right. i don't." "but she's going to stay right here with me until i have every penny." "andy, listen to me." "baranski's not gonna hurt your mom." "are you sure?" "how can you be sure?" "he's just trying to prove a point." "that you can get to us at any time." "that he really wants his money." "well, i really want to give it to him, but i can't." "andy, you have to just trust us." "you want me to make $200,000 just - poof - appear in a numbered account?" "michael, i'm good, but i can't just will that kind of money into existence." "no one's saying it has to exist." "come on. you've never written a bad check?" "you were called "bad check" barry." "i know." "i guess i could wire the money from an account that happens to be closed." "of course you can. i have faith in you, barry." "yeah, but i'm gonna have to bounce the money through a few time zones just to keep my fingerprints off of it." " take a couple days to set it up." " how does a couple hours sound?" "oh, it sounds like michael westen. there's just one thing." "you're not gonna have long before some branch manager in zurich catches wind." "one panicked phone call to aruba, your money's gone." "how much time before my money disappears?" "five minutes, maybe." "can you give me 10?" "for anyone else, michael, it'd be three." "zeke, it's davis. i'm in." "hey, i was beginning to think that finley guy called all the shots." "yeah, i don't see chuck figuring much into my financial future." "well, how about you wire that money, we solidify that future, and i call a couple of girls over to help celebrate?" "sounds mighty fine to me. let me just get my banker on the horn." "it's davis." "great cayman savings account number 07-412-002-niner." "you got it?" "taking a while." " blondes or brunettes?" " why choose?" "my man!" "harmony, it's zeke." "throwing a little gathering over at my place." "he's ready for us." "miami-dade police." "turn off your engine." "step out of the vehicle." "girls are on their way." "they shouldn't be too long now. they... yeah, i see it now. i see the fireworks." "well, thanks for calling." "we're getting it." " who was that?" " those are my new partners." "a couple of ex-delta force boys i know, real heavy badasses." "what are you talking about?" "where do you think i got my money, son?" "finley's got my trust all tied up in knots." "those are my boys out there. they insisted on watching my back. good thing, too." "you got fbi troubles. you had a couple agents closing in on the house." " we got to get." " they killed them?" "nothing gets between me and a deal." "no. no. i can't do this. i- i can't. the - the deal is off." "the hell it is!" "i cut those boys in. they expect to be paid!" "there is no deal." "you are not backing out!" "you back out, you give me their money." "I can wire you back what you already paid me, but i have- you think those boys are just gonna accept what they put in?" "1,000% return on investment that's what you promised me, and that's what i promised them." " i don't have that kind of cash." " well, then, you better get it." "they just killed two federal agents." "it's gonna take a lot to get out of this one, zeke." "you need cash now." "$200,000... and $246,000." "you think it's enough?" "i mean, do you think the guys are gonna want more?" "you'd better hope not." " what are you- - how are- zeke, what the hell is going on?" "we just got jumped." "no. no. no. because he told me that you were dead." "okay, that's wrong." "I saw the money." "I it was there. it was right there." " what money?" "!" " The transfer... davis cullen's money. i saw it." " I gave him the cash." " the money in the safe?" " how much did you give him?" "!" " all of it." "I gave him all of it." "2:00. he said 2:00." "it's 2:01." "i'm so sorry, mom. i'm sorry." " are you okay?" " yeah. yeah." "$200,000 plus the vig, minus $300." "i got you a little present. it's in the bag." "that's next month's issue." "you're a lifetime subscriber now." " i'd rather have the $300." " oh, but this is money well spent." "now you have a monthly reminder to keep your hands off of people's mothers." "leave." "thank you." "if you ever need anything... do your mom a favor..." "go to a bank next time." " is everything all right?" " sure." "you want to talk about this thing with fi?" "it's all right, michael." "that door is closed." "i get it. i talked to fiona." "oh, of course. her,you believe." "don't get mad at me. you don't want to talk about it, i'm not talking about it." "mom, i know how much you like her. i'm sorry." "and it's all right, michael." "fiona is a wonderful girl, but if it's not meant to be... it's not meant to be." "thank you. i'm gonna leave." "i just worry about you, that's all." "I don't want to give up the idea that you'll find someone." "i want you to have a family of your own." "this is about grandchildren?" "no, honey. it's not about me." "it's about you." "life is hard if you have to live it alone, and having kids just makes the ride more fun." "i was fun?" "this better not be old newspapers." "now, that was buried deep - not easy to get." "i call in favors like that again, people ask questions." "don't worry. no more favors." "they say a picture's worth a thousand words." "add in a few hundred that survived the censor's black pen, suddenly you've really got something." "there's the negatives. you earned them." "you're a man of your word. thank you." "thank you for lunch." " what is this?" " your turn, waseem." "well. someone's in a good mood." "i think i found carla's cover." "not bad, mike. not bad at all."