Okay. There's three flags, eight races.
The best freerunners in the city of Metro.
The one who captures all three flags, any way he can, wins.
He's 6 feet. He's flying, he's flipping.
Speed-demon mayhem. Odds to win, 4-to-1.
Ryan.
Five feet, 2 inches of rabbit-quick reflexes. Kid Elvis.
Mitch, 5 foot 8 inches of smash-mouth racing excitement.
He's known for his jet-propelled jumps. Decks.
At 5 foot 8,163, an unstoppable force, Turk.
A precision jumper with four wins in the last month, it's West.
Bet now. Don't be slow, as they race at 3.
Freebo, the newest runner to the pack.
One win, odds 17-to-1.
With seven wins this month...
one word to describe him: Relentless.
Finch. Finch. Finch.
All bets in, the race is on.
You gotta see this. Ryan got the first two flags.
Myles, I just want him to be okay. Just teil me Ryan's okay.
- Where is he? - He took a shortcut.
Whoo! Nice hat.
Whoa! Oh!
My God! Finch got the last flag.
I know, Kid Elvis. I was there.
Mitch the bitch. Come and get it.
- Right behind you, man. - Ain't gonna make it.
I'm going over there.
Way to go, Finch! There you go, son.
Now, there's a champion.
- Crazy son of a bitch. - He got lucky.
- That could've killed you. - What happened?
- Finch happened. - This is a champion.
A true champion. The winner, Finch!
This is gonna be fun.
That satellite feed for tomorrow's launch...
is online, Mr. Frank.
Thank you, Jacque.
- Any way you can, right? - Any way you can, kid. You're right.
- That's what you're teaching them? - Yeah, why? What's the problem?
- You must be real proud. - I am. Look at him.
Look at him. What's the matter with you?
Ryan.
- Hell of a race. - If you say so.
Look. Just keep at it, okay?
Yeah, I know. Tomorrow, right?
Yeah. There's always tomorrow.
Not the way that son of a bitch runs.
Don't worry about him. That's history. Come here.
Get yourself off to a doctor. Have him give you the once-over.
- That's it? - No, that's just for the doctor.
You'll get the rest tonight, hey?
How much you make on the race today, Reese?
There's aiways tomorrow, kid.
Don't you ever forget that. There's aiways tomorrow.
Everybody move! Get out! Get out!
Let's go, baby. Let's go, let's go!
Reese, baby, I still don't get it.
Okay, Dolores.
I'm gonna explain this to you one last time.
At the beginning of every race, there's three bandanas.
A green one, a yeilow one and a red one.
The kid that brings in all three bandanas...
any way he can, wins the money.
But they can bet on themselves and fix the race.
I toid them I'd break the legs of any freerunner...
that bet on the races.
Yeah, but I'm watching it on my phone.
That's because we put cameras on all the roofs.
And we attach BLuetooth cameras to all the runners.
And the kids eat that shit up. Then I had this idea.
Put it online and make the kids run against each other.
And boom, baby.
It takes off like wildfire.
Genius. Wouldn't you say, princess?
- You coming in for a cuddle? - Hey, baby
Oh, wait. Can you shift to the right a little bit?
- Uh-huh. - All right. Hold on.
All right. Okay.
Maybe we should be icing those bruises.
Nah, I'm fine.
Let's just lay here and enjoy paradise.
Smell that salt air?
You mean the pollution?
Which gives us these amazing sunsets.
You know, we used to talk about moving closer to the ocean.
What happened?
Life happened.
I've gotta get ready for work, baby.
Are you bartending or singing tonight?
Singing. Can you come by?
Yeah, I'm gonna work at the hospitaL and see my gramps for a bit.
- I'll come by after. - Okay. I'm on at 9.
- I'll catch a later set? - Whatever.
If that's your plan, that's your plan.
Reese. Reese.
You used to be one of the leading heavyweight contenders of the world.
Entrenched with the game of life.
And now you work for me.
Count it if you want.
No, Mr. Frank, it's fine. I trust you.
I gotta get us out of here.
Me, Chelsea, my gramps.
Get him out of that pit of a hospitaL.
Get us to the coast. Fix the boat up.
Man, I'm so damn broke.
Can't bet on the races, can't bet on myself.
Wait a minute.
I don't know. Didn't Reese say he'd kill you...
you place a bet on yourself?
Yeah, if I bet on the race.
If I bet on the race. But...
what if I deposit ali of my money into your account?
Then you couid place a bet, right?
Yeah. Yeah, dude.
Say the word. Done.
Dude, what the heli are you doing?
Dude, I'm hacking into the government's...
experimentai software programs, all right?
They have the next 200 years of software ready to go.
Check this out, look.
It's these damn congiomerates that just parceL it out to us...
- like cheese. - I'm late for work.
- We're just rats in their cyber maze. - Gotta go. Good luck.
I'll tell you later.
Would you hold still, Gramps?
Hold still? For christsake, you're holding a straight razor to my neck.
Where am I gonna go?
If you stopped talking, I'd probabiy be finished by now.
You know, I wanna lay down and relax.
Check that out. What do you think?
It's not bad. Smooth.
Did a good job, kid.
Well, you didn't make it easy, now, did you?
Nothing great came from easy.
Except great sex from easy women.
How'd I know you were gonna go somewhere dirty like that?
It shows. There's a little sign up here that says "dirty".
All right. What do you wanna watch on TV right now?
I don't know.
Let's sit here and just talk to each other for a little bit.
Okay. Anything in particular?
I don't know. Turn on the goddamn TV again.
I don't care.
I was looking at those pictures earlier today.
You spend all your break time in my room?
What? Do you come in here and look at everything?
Sometimes. Remember that day?
Hell, I remember it well.
Your dad caught three groupers.
It was a miracle. Funny.
Handsome kid just like you.
He fell off the same pot.
God only knows where we got it from, hey?
You know, sometimes, kid, a toad and a swan get together...
and make something pretty special.
What are you talking about? You're not a toad.
I wasn't thinking about me, I was talking about Grandma.
No, that's okay. She was down with that.
She understood. We kidded a lot. Yeah, she did.
So, what about that boat? Where is it?
Still there. Dry dock.
Yeah, the boat's all eaten up by now anyway.
Rats and termites and muskrats, whatever eats wood.
- But it's there? - Yeah, it's still there.
I bet I could fix it, Gramps.
I know you couid, kiddo.
You can be good at anything you want.
I just don't like you working here.
Enough of this male bonding thing.
You wanna watch some TV? You wanna watch the game?
Yeah, put the game on.
* Driving along I hear a song *
* It brings back a time I thought I ieft behind *
* The hate I once had *
* Melts into what I want *
* This doesn't help me To get over us *
* And I can't go on Any further *
* 'Cause I know I'm back to my old habits *
* Falling into your trap I can't let you out of my head *
* And I want to so bad I've been here before *
* Can't take it no more There's no use hoiding on *
* It's aiready been done *
* Yeah, it's already been done **
Ladies and gentlemen, another round of applause...
for Kitty Kat Club's own Chelsea.
Come on. Just here to pick up my girL.
Boss said no.
- He's a good man, Dedee. - He's a good kid...
but none of them are men, and that's the problem, Cheisea.
I mean, West is, um...
Oh, my God. I don't even wanna tell you how good he is in bed.
But do I think for a second it's serious with him?
- Why not? - Chelsea.
They're freerunners.
Just the kind of guy you wanna bring home to meet the P's.
Dad, this is West.
Hey, West. What do you do?
Well, dude, I Like to climb shit, party...
and beat the crap out of my friends.
The band is out there waiting for you.
I gotta teli you this every goddamn time?
Sorry, Morris.
I'm just saying, Chelse.
Break a Leg, Dedee.
On second thought, break them both.
What is she just saying?
- What do you want, Morris? - Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wow.
Okay. Is that where our relationship is right now?
There is no reiationship, Morris.
Never has been, never will be.
* Bein' blue, bein' blue *
Touch me one more time and you're gonna lose the hands.
- You're such a tease. - You're such a pervert!
Ha-ha. And proud of it.
Come on, baby. Let's do it.
Stay away from me!
- Come on! - Let her go!
What the fuck, Morris?
You're fired!
I'm calling the cops.
That guy's a jerk.
I know.
Maybe this ali happened...
...as part of some bigger, cosmic master plan.
And what is this bigger, cosmic master plan?
I'll tell you on the way. Come on, let's go.
That's a crazy pLan, Ryan.
You want me to stop racing and you want to get out of the city.
This is our chance.
But you said Reese would break the legs...
...of any freerunner who bets on themselves.
That's where Myles comes in.
Oh, so you got my stepbrother involved.
ALl I know is after the race today...
...something just clicked.
- Yeah, it's called a concussion. - No, it was a revelation.
Seriously, I've had enough of this.
It's time we make our dreams come true and get out of this place.
It's dangerous.
Where the hell are we?
Reese is throwing a party for us around the corner.
It's supposed to be for aLl the freerunners.
But it couid be our going-away party, right?
Right?
I'm right, right?
Where is the party?
It's around the corner.
Baby, let's just have fun tonight, okay?
Last race tomorrow, boys.
Get them down. Yeah, drink up, drink up.
Ryan, you asked me how much money I made, right?
- Let's have a talk. - Okay.
If I hear that you've been running around...
blabbing your mouth off about what I'm doing to anybody...
And I mean anybody, the fans, the freerunners.
I'm gonna punch a hole in your heart.
Do I make myself clear?
Look at me. Do I make myself clear?
Crystal.
- Good. - Are you guys having fun...
- or what? - We're always having fun, sweetheart.
Cheers.
Look at you. Ain't you a picture?
You know we have a saying back in London...
for somebody who gets a prize like this?
You've absolutely rung the bell, son. All right?
Be nice to her. She's a winner. ALl right.
Remember what I said to you. Come, baby, let's go.
Hey, there's always tomorrow. See you.
I don't like that guy. What's wrong?
Nothing.
Hey, I know you. What's wrong?
It's just been a really long day, baby. That's all.
- Come on. - Oh.
Let's go.
So, I could rent the boat out for tours...
and you could get a job singing at a club.
I'm scared. I don't know.
- It'll be amazing. - Just the condoms?
Uh... yeah, just the condoms.
Not going through. Harry! Lucky Condoms?
Condoms? Which condoms? Lucky?
- Lucky Condoms. - Lucky Condoms?
- Lucky! - Yes! Lucky!
I'm Mr. Lucky and I'm getting lucky with this girl.
Crashed.
See? So much for getting lucky, smart boy.
- We should sell it all. - My car?
Everything.
- I'm not selling the Volvo. - Fine.
- What? - You're forgetting one thing.
- What? - You've never beaten him.
You've never beaten Finch.
I won't lose. I won't ever let you down.
You promise?
I promise.
Hey, it's Ryan. Leave a message.
Ryan, it's Myles.
We're seLling yourseLf before the race today, right?
I'm at the Cyber cafe. We doing this or not?
It's your plan. Big money day.
Last race in the season. Rise and shine.
Are you meeting my brother?
Yeah. I told him that we'd meet at the Cyber cafe.
Hey, whatever, dude. It's your plan, okay?
I'm just a cog in the wheel of the machine here.
Shut up, Myles.
You shut up. Ryan told me to call.
He didn't tell you to be so annoying.
Myles, we'il meet at the cyber cafe in a half hour, okay?
Copy that. Oh, CheLsea?
What?
Disgusting.
Baby.
I don't want you to do this for me or my grandfather.
You can stay if you want.
I want you to do this because it's what you wanna do.
Shut up.
This piece of shit?
I'll give you one, two, three, four, five...
six, seven, eight, nine and ten.
Well, that's it.
You sold all your stuff, man? I can't believe it.
We got, like, over eight grand.
It's time for you to place that bet.
- You better win, dude. - Yeah.
And you see that?
You can have virtual friends onLine, Gramps.
I have virtual friends. They're called my friends.
I know, I know. But here, check it out. That's the site.
- What? What is this? - Hold on, Gramps. It's loading.
These are some of my racing friends. Click here, that's me.
- What is that there? - That's how you place a bet.
That's me, Gramps. That's what I do when I'm not working here.
- What is that? A race? - Yeah.
- What are you racing for? - To get us back to the ocean.
- Then win the fucking race. - i plan to...
...but how would Grandma feel with you taLking like that?
She didn't like the word, but she iiked doing it.
You couldn't stop her when she got going.
ALl right, look, i'm... Just watch at 3, okay?
I'm gonna sit here and wait for it to come on.
- i gotta go do this. - Yeah, okay. i'll watch.
Think about your grandma.
You can let go of my iip now.
I thought you liked my love bites.
I love your love bites. I'm just trying to stay focused.
Ryan wins, Ryan wins, Ryan wins.
Tell me, do you always talk to yourself?
Uh... Yeah.
I'm very good company.
I bet.
Do you always talk to yourself?
- I'm very good company. - I bet.
I bet.
Shit! The bet. The bet!
All right, here we go. It's the last race of the season.
Here we go. Make it good and memorable.
- Myles? - Come on.
Okay, freerunners, line them up.
Now pay attention, because I'm only gonna say this once.
It's a three-flag race with three locations.
The green flag is at the top of Pantry's Tavern's fire escape.
Then you head on through the Trust Building's alleyways...
to get to the yellow flag.
And the red flag is at the warehouse where we were partying iast night.
But do me a favor, boys.
When you get there, try not to slip on Kid Elvis' puke, hey?
Now, come on, boys. Whatever it takes, hey? Come on!
Yesterday was a fluke, asshole. And you still didn't win.
- Only because you tried to kilL me. - No, I was oniy playing.
I'm not.
- Jeez, Ryan. You frighten me. - Okay, Dolores, baby. Call it.
On your mark, get set, go!
- Where's Ryan? - Dead last.
Mitch got the green flag! Get it! Get it!
Ryan's got it!
Wait up!
See, I like this kid, but he never wins.
Jacque, he'll be there soon.
We're ready here.
* I don't wanna be falling down Too high... *
Come on. Come on, baby.
- Look at that. - Mm-hm.
The kid can run.
They're heading there now.
Hold on, no ketchup?
Shit, yeah!
There's no way you're leaving here with all 3 flags.
Eat a dick, Finch.
Why don't we see about that, huh?
Hey.
What...?
What the...?
What happened? Did he win?
All the doors are locked, man.
Check that. I'm taking those flags.
Stop pulling!
- They're all locked. - Fucking Reese is playing us.
- What the hell? - Is anybody up there?
- What the hell is that? - What the fuck?
Let us out!
- What is this? - Who's up there?
- In the middle of a race. - What the fuck is that?
- What the hell is that? - You guys see that?
This is some kind of joke, right?
I don't think so.
I love watching all the racers, their stats.
Check out their forms and techniques.
Yeah, you know it's important to look up races...
old races, checking out form and technique.
But always remember the banker:
Past performance does not guarantee future performance.
I'll bet 2 million dollars.
You know what they say, old son.
Talk is cheap, money buys whiskey.
Eight million.
Where am I?
- What the fuck? - Shit.
ELVIS: Fuck, man.
TURK: What the fuck?! WEST: Goddamn it.
ELVIS: Ryan, where are we?
- What? DECKS: What is that?
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
My name is Mr. Frank.
And for the next 60 minutes...
...you are my unwiLling participants in a race for your life.
- Here are the rules... - Yeah, fuck you!
Back up! You better let me out right fuck... Aah!
Oh, what the fuck are you doing to him?
Rule number one: you never interrupt me.
Jacque spent 15 years in a Japanese dojo...
learning that grip.
And he never gets tired of it.
Rule number two:
The device around your neck is set to expLode...
in exactly 60 minutes.
There's no stopping that now.
If you go to the police...
I will push the manual detonate button.
And then you're no longer members of this planet.
Only I have the remote, only I can release you.
So you'd better race as if your life depended on it.
And let me assure you gentlemen, heh...
- it does. - Bullshit.
See, Jacque? I knew we would need a little demonstration.
What's going on, man?
- Let me go! - What the fuck are you doing?
Green means armed. yellow lights...
No, wait, wait! We'll race! We'll race! We'll all race!
Red lights.
Fucking mental, man.
I'm sorry I had to expose you...
to the grim reality of your situation.
But there is some good news. Jacque?
One million dollars to the freerunner who makes it...
to the top of the railroad bridge before 60 minutes has elapsed.
What about second piace?
Bring it, dickface.
That's the spirit.
I'll let the club's hostess, Stacey, explain the rest.
Hi, I'm Stacey.
Welcome to the club's death game of the year.
Heda, please leave alone. Hold alL my calLs.
- I will not be disturbed now. - No one is to disturb me...
- while I'm playing the game. - Money, money. LoveLy money.
Come to Daddy.
I'm watching the fucking death game here.
ALl of you shut the fuck up.
Hey, Jersey. We're supposed to watch alone.
I'm aione.
This year's host...
...the newest and brightest club member of them all, Mr. Frank.
Well, we'll see about that.
And his game, Freerunner!
Okay, freerunners, time to race for your lives. Here's the game.
You wiil have exactly 60 minutes...
...to make it across to the railroad bridge, or kaboom!
Each runner's collar is equipped...
...with built-in video to capture the action.
- Nice. - Locked on to their wrists...
...a combo GPS timer and a one-way videophone...
...that Mr. Frank wiLl be checking in on you with.
ALong the way, the runners must pass their neckwear by rooftop scanners.
Number one is on top of the Giazier Building.
The second scanner is high atop the Caxson water tower.
And the iast scanner is at the highest point of the railroad bridge.
Important: Whoever is in last place...
...has onLy three seconds to reach the scanner, or:
STACEY & JERSEY: Kaboom!
Stray away from the chosen GPS route...
...the runners have only five minutes to get back on course, or:
Kaboom!
Oh, and don't mess with Mr. Frank or his coilars.
As you've just seen, he has no problem activating his detonator.
That's right, boys, 5 ways to die, one way to Live:
Win.
Hold on. No, no.
I said 10 million on Decks to die first...
10 million on Turk to win.
Everyone got it?
Oh, and freerunners...
take them in, boys, because they're the last tits most of you will ever see.
And the first.
May the best freerunner win.
I'll be calling you on your wrist devices...
to check in from time to time.
And i'll be watching you on your collar cameras.
As well as every security cam...
traffic cam and satellite cam.
We'll all be watching. Won't we, gentlemen?
Come on, Kid Elvis!
Five. Put 5 miliion on.
Turk, Turk. Come on, Turkey, baby.
Bring it home to Daddy, baby.
- Yeah. - Why are you doing this?
Why?
- Two million. I'll raise that. - Two.
- Because it's fun. - Oh, this is gonna be fun. Ha-ha-ha.
On your mark, get set...
Release the freerunners!
To get to the first scanner...
the boys must cross the top of the pedestrian bridge.
Come on, baby! That's it, bitch. Yeah, baby. Whoo-hoo.
Stomp his stupid body, West.
STACEY: It's Freebo in fourth place, Turk in fifth.
Ryan has helped Kid ELvis and has fallen behind.
Freebo dies first.
I can't believe it. They're doing it. They're running your race.
Of course they are. What did I telL you gentlemen?
You may have been playing your littLe hunting games throughout the years...
...but my game's gonna blow you away.
TEXAS: Move! Move! Yeah. All right, now.
Now we're taLking. Let's go.
JERSEY: Bada-bing. Bada-bing.
Here we go, Freebo, baby. Come on.
Come on, Ryan. Come on now. You can do it.
I have a lot of money on you.
Keep going! Keep going, Ryan! Don't stop!
We shouid go to the right, right, man? Which way do we go?
How about down?
Did Finch just kick Decks off the building? What an asshole.
Way to die, Decks!
Ugh! Stupid Decks!
I lost a lot of my money! What did you do?
Dead man Decks. Pay all side bets now.
An earlier departure for Decks...
than predicted by the odds.
It's anyone's game here, gentlemen.
Finch! You are my man! Ha-ha-ha.
- Aw, man. - Shit. Decks!
He's dead, man. Come on, let's go.
Guess Decks is a safe bet the day he's died.
- Somebody stop him! - There you go.
- Got nothing on you, man. - Come on!
Whoa. Shit! Why the hell's this guy...?
- Come on! - There you go.
West, Turk and Freebo clear the first scanner.
But where's Finch?
- Where's Finch? - Who cares?
After the first scanner, West is in the lead.
Pay all side bets now.
Pay all side bets.
Hell of a game, Mr. Frank.
Oh, my God, I just lost my factory.
I told you you shouldn't have took that bet, Chinaman.
Remember, the last one...
has only three seconds to be scanned.
All right, Kid Elvis. I've got a lot of money on this.
Kid! The scanner's over here!
Unh!
- Finch, what the fuck? - Kill or be killed.
Come on, Kid ELvis. Come on.
Hit him in the face! Go on, get in there!
Yeah, Finch!
Finch, help, man!
My money's on you, Kid.
You want my heip? Drop him.
Finch scanned himself. Who will be left? Ryan or Kid Elvis?
Come on, Kid Elvis. Pick yourself up! Come on, Kid.
Uh-oh. Ryan accidentally just scanned himself.
Mom.
Kid!
You couldn't fucking beat my grandmother!
Whoo! Man! That was... Man, that was like an exploding watermelon.
Man! Whoo! That was something!
Kid Elvis bites the dust.
Two scanners to go and we're already down to 5 players.
I see you're all broken up, Ryan.
- But keep moving. - You're a murderer.
I'm a businessman.
I'm gonna find you, and when I do...
Well that's very easy to do, Ryan.
you win the race and I will be there.
And I will hand you 1 million dollars.
And then we can work out life's little problems when it's over.
When this is over, so are you.
Well, you better get a move on, then.
Because I don't think you're gonna make it.
Bring it to my desk when you've filled it out.
ALl right.
Explosions at Magnolia and 12th Street.
Those crazy running guys we're talking about.
One is 6 foot, blue sweatshirt.
All suspects heading towards 7th Street now.
7th Street and MagnoLia.
Hey, you!
Between Main and Oak. Between Main and Oak St.
- Freeze! - Freeze!
- Wait, wait. You don't understand. - Get your hands up!
Cover him.
Listen, man. There's a guy...
Let me guess. A criminal mastermind, right?
And you got 30 minutes...
to deiiver a secret formula or something. Get in there.
Shut the door. Let's get out of here.
Uh-oh. An unexpected levei of difficuLty for the boys.
Unexpected ieveL, my ass. They're putting those boys in a SWAT van.
I was having so much fun.
GERMAN: Please press the detonator now, Mr. Frank.
It's gotta be through Reese that this guy even knows who we are.
- That's buLlshit, man. - Well, think about it!
The cameras? The scanners? They're just like the flags in our race.
This whole last year has been nothing but a rehearsal for today's main event.
TURK: That's twisted. - So?
So we piay.
One of us goes and locates Reese...
...we get him to teli us where to find this guy.
- How do we do that? - From inside the police truck?
FREEBO: In the next 33 minutes?
What the fuck, Frankie? BLow them up.
- Why biow them up? - They'Ll turn us in, Chinaman.
I'm Korean, you dumb fucker.
Mr. Frank, before they turn us in.
Press your detonator!
Gentlemen, I have tremendous faith in the resourcefulness of my players.
GPS countdown started! We must be out of the green zone.
TURK: Fuck this bullshit. WEST: We got Less than 5 minutes!
- It'll blow! - Quit rocking the van!
That's it.
Get up. We're gonna roll this bitch.
- Get up. - That's not gonna work.
One, two, three.
I said cut it out back there!
- Shit! - Go!
What are they doing?
- Trying to roll the van! - Roll it, baby.
I love these fucking guys.
Would you look at these fucking guys?
Yes! Keep going, more!
Holy shit!
Ha-ha-ha. Wow.
Holy cow!
- You're alive! You're alive! - Yeah, baby!
RYAN: you gotta get back to this green zone, let's go!
- That's my boy! - you're gonna blow up...
Green zone, baby! Come on!
Suspects heading south, towards 6th and Thistle.
- Come on, run! - That's it.
- Go, baby! Go! - Chelsea!
Everybody get in the car! Come on, come on!
We got 40 seconds to get back to the green zone!
Who's the broad in the car?
- Get to the green zone! - What's going on?
Go! Chelsea, stop talking and just drive!
Come on, let's go!
Drive faster, baby. You gotta drive faster!
Why is everyone yeliing at me, Ryan?
Just drive!
Just drive, stupid-ass!
I'm doing the best that I can!
- You are all out of your minds! - We're dead!
What's up with the collars, guys?
If the boys don't make it back into the green zone within 20 seconds...
there's going to be one hell of a mess to cLean up in that car.
- I love you. - What are you doing?
RYAN: I'm sorry, I love you. You gotta go!
What's wrong with...? Ryan, stop it! Ryan!
Stop it!
The boys made it to the green zone...
...with one second to spare. What a rush.
TURK: Oh, my God. We made it. WEST: We made it!
- We did it! We're alive! - We made it.
- What the heLl is the matter with you? - i love you, Chelsea!
WEST & FREEBO: We iove you, Chelsea!
RYAN: You're so amazing. - And i'm a great driver.
- TelL her she's a great driver. TURK: Best driver, Chelsea!
WEST: Best driver in the worid.
What the hell is going on?
STACEY: And we're back to the races, gentlemen.
Wow, there's over $70 miilion in the pot right now.
Let's look at the board.
Best bet to the yellow scanner, Finch to win at 2-to-1.
Ryan to place at 4-to-1 and West to finish third at 4-to-1.
With odds-on favorites Freebo and Turk to die.
Place all yelLow scanner side bets now!
Side bet, side bet. I play the...
Buy a half-million shares of IFR Industries... Hold.
Stacey, add 3 million on Ryan to die here.
I wili put my money where my mouth is.
Stacey, triple ail of my bets to the yeLlow scanner.
Finch first, Ryan second, West third. Turk, dead.
I triple all my bets too, Stacey.
- The fuck. I'm in too. Trip it. - Ryan, Finch...
Freebo win, Finch show, Ryan place, West dead.
Bada Bing, you nuts? Freebo?
What? Pacino, De Niro, Freebo.
Name ends in an O. He's gotta be good.
Oh, oh, oh. Okay.
I see you're back on course, freerunners.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't rooting for you.
Of course you are.
What the hell is Rome without its gladiators?
- Who's that? - No one, Chelsea.
Chelsea?
Ah. Exquisite taste, Ryan.
Shut your goddamn mouth!
It's quite a show you're giving us today, boys. It's very good.
Glad we could make this exciting for you, asshole!
- Yeah. Very exciting, Turk. - Shit.
Now, by my clock...
you have just under 24 minutes to make the next two scanners.
- We'll never make it! - Gotta get to Reese's gym!
FINCH: Get to the yellow flag! RYAN: Gotta find Reese. Turn right!
- Turn ieft. - Go right. We're going to Reese's gym.
- Water tower is left. - Take a right.
- Who was that? Which way? - Right!
- Left! - Right!
- Goodbye, losers. - Finch, Finch!
Finch! You son of a bitch!
Stop the car! We gotta stop the car!
- If he's racing... - Stop the car!
No, we gotta find Reese!
He makes it to the last scanner, that's it, we're dead!
Chelsea. Stop the car.
Come on, West, baby! Come on! My money's on you!
What's going on? We lost everything.
And i'm sorry, but in 24 minutes, this thing around my neck explodes.
That'll be everything.
- That's why you tried to throw me out. - Yes.
What are you doing?
Send this to Myles. Tell him to run a search of that logo.
The company it belongs to, CEO, location...
anything he can find that relates to this guy.
He calis himself Mr. Frank.
- Where are you going? - Gotta go!
I gotta get back in the race or I'm dead!
I'll take you there. Let's go.
Finch's bold move launches him into first place.
There's West sprinting into second.
Go, go, go!
Come on, Turk. Go, Turk. Go, Turk!
Here we go, Freebo, baby. Come on, come on. Bada-bing.
- Come on! - Let's go. Come on, baby.
Turk and Freebo are trying a shortcut through the mall.
Here we go, here we go. Now we're talking.
Come on. Let's go. Here we go, guys.
Come on, Freebo.
Let's go! Let's go!
Where's my man? Where the bloody hell is my man?
Come on. Come on!
We're back in it, we're back in it. Come on, Freebo!
You're right behind him. Buddy, let's go!
- I'll meet you back at my place. - Go, Ryan!
Get that camera inside. I wanna see my guy. There he is.
You're gonna win this. You have to win, I expect you to win.
Hustle, hustle.
Freebo. Your... Your collar.
Get back there. Get back!
What happened to his collar?
He's ticking. He's ticking.
Freebo's collar short-circuits.
- Goodbye, Freebo. We'll miss you. - No!
- Good luck, Turk. - Freebo!
Oh!
You stupid, orange-sweatshirted...
goddamn motherfucker!
I'm a banker, Jersey. Should've listened to me.
Bankers? Aiways certain, seldom right.
Add 10 million on round for yellow scanner.
I reckon your guy's only got one gear...
somewhat resembling an Italian tank:
Reverse.
I'll take Mr. Frank's boy, Finch'll die here, 14 million. I'm in now.
Fourteen million against that bet, Jersey.
West, Turk, Finch and Ryan.
For the one that's 3 seconds late to the scanner...
it's sayonara, freerunner.
Turk! Guys, take it easy.
Let's just all stand and figure out what to do next.
I don't trust Finch.
It's a four-runner showdown. Who will survive?
West takes one in the face.
He'll feel that in the morning, if he makes it to morning.
Come on!
Gouge his eyes out! Tear his head off!
- Back off. - Aah!
STACEY: Ouch. Bye-bye, West. Three freerunners left.
Go, Turk, baby. Scanner, baby. Scanner, baby! Get that scan!
How could you do this to me? I believed in you.
- Ryan's gonna blow. - Come on, come on.
Come on, come on, come on!
- Come on! - Crashed.
- System failure. - Yeah!
System failure. System failure.
Wow. Ryan jammed Mr. Frank's remote and GPS.
How in the world did he figure that out?
Mr. Frank must be pissed.
I beat your game, bitch.
You disrupted my game.
And I applaud your ingenuity, I really do.
However, if you don't win the race in the next 19 minutes...
I promise you...
that collar is gonna give you one splitting headache.
Bullshit.
It's quiet out there, isn't it, Ryan?
But if you just iisten to your collar. Just listen.
What does it teLl you?
Yes.
That low-level hum that you hear.
That is your death march, Ryan.
So you better win the race.
Go fuck yourseLf.
What the hell just happened, Mr. Frank?
Blow that boy's head up.
State-of-the-art technology, Mr. Frank?
Stacey, what the fuck just happened?
Ryan's collar update. A slight engineering flaw has been detected.
No shit, Sherlock.
Mr. Frank's GPS and detonator have been deactivated.
Mr. Frank can't blow him up. Ryan can now Leave the green zone.
But his 60-minute countdown...
is still at 19 minutes and his must-win explosive is still operational.
Put my money back into my account now!
The race is over.
The race is still on, gentiemen.
Like any good race...
it never quite goes how you anticipate.
All ciub members...
...you have exactly 60 seconds to place all bets for the red scanner.
You know what? Fuck you and fuck your bet!
The kid's collar is broken and he could turn us all in right now!
STACEY: Five runners down, three freerunners left.
Remember, whoever scans first at the red scanner Lives.
For everyone eLse: kaboom!
- What do you want? - Mr. Reese.
Before you fly away to Never Never Land...
...with a bag of my money, I have one more mission for you.
The fuck you going on about?
Track down as many degenerate freerunners...
...from your decrepit little gym as you can.
And hunt that little fucker Ryan down.
Fucking wanker.
TURK: This is for Freebo!
For West.
Aah! And for me!
My man's number one!
RYAN: Nice, Turk.
The fuck? Run, Turk. Run.
- Freebo didn't deserve this. - None of us do.
I disabied my collar from his GPS and his detonator.
TURK: What? How?
GERMAN: Shut him up, Mr. Frank. FRANK: you think I'm not listening?
You say one more word, Ryan, and Turk dies right now.
Turk, you win the race...
...you're a free man and a millionaire.
What happens to Ryan?
Ryan. He wants to be a dead man.
You still have a chance, my friend. You decide now.
Good luck, man.
Oh, Ryan...
where did you meet such a beautifui girl?
I just... I just can't get her image out of my head.
- Just keep talking, asshole. - Oh, I wiil.
Because I've got years to talk and talk.
You, my friend, you have minutes to live.
I'm gonna spend every minute I got coming after you.
Okay, now iisten up. Put it out there.
At the diner, the gym, whatever it takes.
Tell the boys I'm giving 100 K...
for the head of Ryan Carter.
Text, send an announcement...
use a fucking bullhorn if you have to. I don't give a shit.
Just find him.
Well, telL them to use a fucking mask. Now, move.
Assassins? What the fuck, Mr. Frank?
Ryan is my runner!
What the fuck is going on?
Stop that Ryan! Kill that son of a bitch right now!
Stop that boy! He's going to the police! Kill him!
You can't kill him. He's my runner. All my money is on him!
No! I just had it waxed!
TEXAS: Get that boy!
That kid talks, i'm kilLing him...
I'm killing his family and anyone he's ever talked to in his life!
- Oh, my God, he's... - Out of the green zone.
- Motherfucker! - Ryan is out...
of the green zone but there's nothing Mr. Frank can do about it.
Now Turk's leaving the green zone too?
- Fuck you doing, Turk? - He's losing your bet, asshole.
STACEY: Turk has left the green zone too.
He has onLy five minutes to get back.
Chelsea! Chelsea!
Ryan! Thank God.
- Where's Myles? - Cyber cafe.
The coliar?
We need to go to the cops. Get a bomb expert. Someone that...
We're fugitives. By the time they figure it out, it'li be too late.
I don't know. I gotta find something on him.
Some kind of leverage. But we gotta go.
- Okay. Okay. - We gotta go, okay?
Come with me or we tear her apart.
No, don't hurt her! No, stop! Let her go!
I'm sorry it's gotta be like this. Come on, you gotta come with me.
TURK: Hello, Reese.
- Turk! - You'd have done it for me!
Turk risks everything...
by leaving the GPS route to save his friend Ryan.
- Fucking God! - What a guy.
A dead guy.
Ryan, don't even think about it. No way I'm doing this.
- No way back. - But I'm not a freerunner.
You are now.
Oh... Holy shit.
Holy shit.
I've got you now, you little shit!
- Chelsea, run! - Aah!
REESE: Oh, you wanna play? Let's piay.
CHELSEA: Officer! Officer!
Offic...
Chelsea, right?
Free-run your way out of this!
- I always do, asshole. - Oh!
- Ryan! - I got you now, you son of a bitch.
How does it feel? Huh?
- Ryan. - Who is he?!
Look, they call him Mr. Frank.
He's at the tower.
He's at the tower at the center, that's all I know.
And the collar, how do I stop it?
How do I fucking stop it?
I don't know. He's too rich, he's too powerfull.
There's aiways tomorrow, kid. But not for me. I'm dead anyway.
Don't do it. Reese!
If he can kili that guy, he can get to your police.
Unbeiievabie. Un-be-fucking-believable.
I officially withdraw my bet.
I withdraw my bet as weLl.
I withdraw Mr. Frank's cLub membership.
Membership? I'm gonna withdraw his fucking heart!
- I second that. - Third it.
Wait a minute. Mr. Obashi...
- Never mention names, Mr. Frank. - Yes, yes. Of course.
- This is a fucking scam! - A scam?
Come on. His bet on Finch is the same exact amount of money...
that he took from us to enter this fakakta race.
Do you know what that means?
Fixes the race, takes our money, gets us thrown in jail. Then "poof"...
he disappears with the proceeds. Right, Frankie boy?
If you're fixing this race...
- Just wait, wait a minute! - I wilL fix you.
You wanted a game. I gave you one.
Better than anything you cretins could ever come up with.
And now you're nervous, you're worried. What's the matter?
Too much excitement for your weak tickers?
Watch yourself, Mr. Frank.
Chelsea. Chelsea. Chelsea!
RYAN: Shit.
TEXAS: Oh, those guys with the masks again?
They ain't gonna do piss.
TERENCE: Total degenerate.
You cunt and a half!
Finch. Finch?
- Finch. - What do you want?
The race is yours to win.
How do I know you're not gonna blow me up as soon as I win your game?
Because I wilL fucking blow you up now if you don't.
- Nice collar. - Holy shit, dude! What happened?
- Where's Chelsea? She here? - She's not with you?
- No, she went looking for the cops. - All right, I'll call her.
What did you find?
The mother lode, dude.
Who is he?
First, that logo belongs to a company called IFR industries.
Its CEO is named ian F. Ricks.
- "F" for Frank. - Yeah.
Chelse, it's Myles. Ryan's here at Cyber. Call me back.
Dude, these guys are linked to top internationaL weapons engineers.
They got a super satellite spy system.
He's a conspiracy theorist's wet dream.
Tell me he's got an office at tower center.
Yeah, top floor. Dude's a block away.
And the collar?
Then I'm dead.
Smile.
Why don't you go film yourself?
Oh, I do, sexy.
Every night at 8, I turn this camera right around on me.
Gothchyck dot com. "Chyck" with a Y.
That's it.
Gothchyck dot com is it?
Yeah. Can you hack into this wrist-phone thing?
Not without accessing the sateilite computer mainframe.
It's a block away.
Wha...? Wait. I gotta pack my computer!
Look at that ass, Jacque.
- You're the guy... - I'm the guy from the watch.
Call me Mr. Frank.
And you're Chelsea...
the one Ryan's willing to fly through city streets for.
And I can see why. You're beautiful.
Where's Ryan?
I'm afraid he's no longer with us, sweetheart.
I don't beiieve you.
If you really wanna see the world...
you're with the right man now.
Seeing the world with you would turn the world into shit!
Ha, ha, ha. You got a nasty wit about you.
It's okay. I really iike that.
Hey, you ever check out gothchyck dot com? it's my website.
Got my camera on me ail night.
Or maybe you're just too busy playing with your radio.
That's it, man. Mainframe.
Oh, we turn the cameras around on them. I get it.
But dude, it's so locked. How do we get in?
We gotta get up to get down. Come on, let's go.
Hey, hey. This is it. This is it.
We're gonna go through on three.
One, two...
Security alert.
Are you sure Ryan's not alive?
Jacque, get the girl.
Security alert. Control room. Door lock initiated.
Guess counting's not your thing.
- Get the door! - Shit.
Control room. Door lock initiated.
Oh, shit.
Ryan! Help!
Door lock initiated.
Security alert. Control room.
My kid's tree house is better secured than your fucking buiiding.
You piece of shit!
Gentlemen, your worry is all part...
of the excitement of the game, part of the playing field.
- I'm coming for you! - You absolute piece of rubbish.
I'm out of here, boys and girls. Fuck off and die.
We wiil see you very, very soon!
I'm coming. I'm fucking coming!
- You're dead! - You're so fucking dead.
Mr. Frank, is everything okay?
- Security alert. - How's it coming?
Thirty seconds.
We'll be downloading everything off your wrist and sending it worldwide.
- All right, who am I sending it to? - Everyone.
ALl right, you're on.
My name is Ryan Carter.
Today, a man named Ian Frank Ricks...
killed six innocent men.
- Mom. - Kid!
No!
- Shit. - Holy shit.
They were my friends.
- Are you tracking this? - I'm on it.
He killed them for the sake of a multimiilion-dollar...
gambling ring run by the sick...
twisted individual billionaires you see here.
- Shit. - Shit.
I hate billionaires.
I'm here to tell them all:
Game over.
- Way to go, guys. - Mr. Frank, if I were you...
I'd start running.
- Did we get through? - I think we did.
Door locks disabled in 60 seconds.
- It's Chelsea! - Give it to me.
Say hello, CheLsea.
- Chelsea. - No.
Now say goodbye, Chelsea.
Hello, Ryan. Can you see me?
I've never used this phone before. I don't quite know where to hold it.
Where is she?
Sadly, you've got about five minutes to live.
Where is she?!
And since I've been forced to do some immediate traveling...
regrettably, I won't be able to say goodbye in person.
But lucky me.
I found myself a lovely traveling companion.
Chelsea.
Goodbye, Ryan. Oh, and by the way, good game.
No!
Family plan.
GPS. Come on, come on. come on.
There they are! We get GPS on the family plan.
They're going to the bridge. To the last scanner! Go, Ryan.
Door locks now disabLed.
Go, go, go!
- You wanna go? Come on. - You take him.
- I'll go after the other one. - Ow.
Stop! Hey! Get back here!
Hey, hey, hey! Stop!
Hey.
It's got a busted headlight, but this baby really cooks.
- Sorry. it's an emergency. - Hey, hey!
Get off my bike. That's my bike! Get off my...
Been waiting for you, asshole.
At this scanner, second place is a dead man!
Finch! Are you crazy? They're gonna kiil you anyway!
It's not about the collar, it's not about dickface!
- This is between me and you! - It's not a race, man!
I'll always be the winner, Ryan!
Mr. Frank! i'm not playing your game anymore.
You're the fucking loser!
- I quit! - You fucking idiot.
Oh, for fuck's sake!
We'll be in City Island soon.
And, my truffle, we'll take you wherever you wanna go.
You'll have to kill me first.
Oh.
Oh, okay.
Ah...
God, I love that face.
Hey, what are they serving on the flight this evening?
Pork loin, sir.
- Pork loin... Fuck, what are you...? - Ah!
Bitch. What are you, fucking stupid? Eh?
Fucking move over there. Do you wanna get fucking shot?
Ryan!
You stay there. Stay there.
No! No!
Come here.
Hold it, Ryan. Hold on.
Recognize the collar she's wearing, yeah?
Now look at your timer.
You got about 30 seconds to live.
And so does she unless you do exactly as I say.
- What is it? - A deal so you don't blow us all up.
In this briefcase there's 1 miilion dollars.
Now, I'm a man of my word.
You jump off the boat, I'll reiease the collar.
You keep the money, I'll keep the girl.
You got about 20 seconds.
Eighteen, seventeen...
- I'll do it! - Ryan!
Good boy. Ha-ha-ha.
Good decision for both of you.
Ryan, no.
- Love bites, doesn't it? - It sure does.
Aah! Fuck!
RYAN: Enjoy the headache, asshole!
Decks, Freebo...
Mitch, West...
Finch, Turk, Kid Elvis.
They were my friends. They were freerunners.
And if they don't allow free-running in heaven, well...
these guys will find a way.
As for me and Chelsea...
we couldn't beLieve there was a million bucks in Mr. Frank's briefcase.
Got Gramps back to the ocean.
Still cranky, but you gotta love the guy.
As for CheLse, she just keeps getting more and more beautifuL.
Me? I'm good.
I'm just trying to figure out how a guy free-runs out here.
Um... A warm welcome for our unexpected guests...
the Metro Police Department!
- Let's go, honey. - Hands off.
COP: We're going downtown.
Hey, hey! Watch the stick, buddy!
Let's go.
- Fuck off! Fuck off! - Take this downtown.
Just put the laptop there.
Terence, which one of your private islands are you currently residing at?
- What month is it? - January.
Then the January Island.
Twelve private islands, one for each month of the year.
Don't you get lonely?
Not really.