(Irish music plays as the patrons of the bar talk and drink. Cora moves through the crowd, obviously knowing most of the patrons)
[McRory’s Back Room]
(Three men are playing poker around a table)
Cora: Can I get you boys any refills?
Cabella: Ah, no, thank you, Cora.
(Cora takes a cigar from Cabella’s mouth)
Cabella: Oh. Can I get that back on the way out?
Cora: If you're good, Mr. Cabella. Rules are rules.
Donnelly: Listen, honey. Our condolences. Your father was a kind host. It's hard to see his empty chair there.
McCann: He was the best of us.
McCann: To John McRory!
All: John McRory!
Doyle: Is that Mistress Cora McRory?
Cora: I don't believe we've met, Mr...
Doyle: Mark Doyle. This is Liam. This is Liam's Brother. My sympathies, by the by.
Doyle: Forgive me for conducting such dirty business on your day of mourning, but himself owed me a debt and I've come by to collect.
Cora: My father owed you money?
Doyle: He took out a loan 12 months ago, $5,000. With interest it's 15 and come due today.
Cora: Fifteen thousand dollars? I don't have that--
Doyle: Unlike Yankee banks, I don't give unsecured loans. Your Da put up his pub as collateral. (shows Cora an IOU)
Cora: The bar is all he had.
Doyle: In this life, some are given to need, some provision. My boys tell me you're the sole heiress. So, 15,000, pay up. Or, if it's easier for you, I'll take the pub.
(Cora moves to attack Doyle, but Liam catches her and pushes her back against a cart)
Doyle: Thank you, Liam. Go on, love. Collect yourself, check your assets. We'll wait for exactly two hours.
(Cora runs out of the kitchen)
Parker: So this is paying respects, hmm?
Nate: Oh, absolutely, yeah. I mean, it's an Irish wake.
Hardison: You know, there's a poker game going on in the back room.
Nate: Yeah, at one time or another, every man in this neighborhood played in John McRory's Friday night game. It's an honor. I mean, hell, my father played in it for ten years, before...
Eliot: This was your father's local?
Nate: Oh, hey, this was my father's office. (gesturing toward the bar) Right here. And he held court right there on that stool. And he would just... I mean, I grew up in this place.
Hardison: It must have been an interesting education.
Jimmy Ford: We can work something out.
(Jimmy grabs a man’s fingers and bends them backward. On the bar, a young Nate watches)
Jimmy: Now, what did we learn, Nathan?
Nate: Don't gamble with another man's money.
Jimmy: Good lad.
Nate: Yeah. Better than prep school.
Parker: What kind of crook was your dad?
Hardison: Parker, you just...
Nate: He ran numbers.
Eliot: Let me get this straight. So you stopped stealing, you stopped drinking and you moved upstairs from a thief bar.
Parker: He did. I get that. You don't get that? Why does nobody get that?
Nate: No, the thing about it is, I mean, now it's just a neighborhood bar. I mean, back in the day you never knew who you were drinking next to. You had the mob on one side, the law on the other.
Hardison: Times have changed.
Nate: Yeah, you know, not that much. But, Cora here, I remember the day she was born.
(Cora hurries to the cash register and opens it)
Nate: She grew up here too. And she turned out all right. Huh, Cora?
(Cora glances angrily at Nate and turns to go back into the kitchen, the money from the till in her hand)
Eliot: Whoo. Redheads burn the hottest, don't they?
Nate: Easy. She's like my niece.
Eliot: She's not like your daughter, though.
Nate: Yeah. Like my niece. So, I don't want you to like my niece ‘cause she's like my niece.
Eliot: I don't like your niece.
Nate: No, but you know what I mean.
(in the doorway to the kitchen, Cora shoves the money into Doyle’s hands)
Cora: There. That's all we have.
Doyle: Let's see now.
Liam’s Brother (counting and marking money): Two hundred and ten.
Liam (writing in book): Noted.
Doyle: Well, that's only 14,790 to go.
(Cora walks out of the bar. Nate and the crew watch her go)
Cora: His name's Mark Doyle. He's Irish. You know, he says Dad took out a loan from him a year ago. I didn't believe him at first. (takes a drink from Eliot) Thank you. But I realize that was just before the cancer took Mom. You know, I tried to help him with the bills. He swore he had it under control. I could have stopped this.
Nate: No, no, no. Listen. This guy Doyle, he's a loan shark. I don't think you could've helped. But, maybe we can. Hmm?
Cora: No, he wants 15,000 in the next two hours, Nate, or he's taking the bar. I can't get that kind of money. In two hours?
Nate: Why don't you do this? Why don't you go back downstairs, tend to the guests and everything and we'll try to figure out something here, OK?
Cora: OK. Thank you. (leaves)
Parker: Why don't we just send her to the police? I mean, I don't use 'em, but this is what they're for, right?
Nate: No, if Cora says to the police that she owes Doyle money, Doyle denies it. Six months later he comes and burns down the bar. And that's assuming that he doesn't have a couple of local police on the arm.
Hardison: That's what sucks about the credit crunch. Honest people can't get loans, sharks move in, 12 points on the interest every month. There's no way to get out from under that.
Eliot: I don't care. You don't collect debts at a wake. You just don't do it. Want me to go downstairs, break this guy's knees?
Nate: No, we need some reconnaissance. Like, you know, why is this Irish loan shark here? And what is this two-hour timetable? Why don't you call Tara, tell her we got a job.
Tara (enters pub): What's the game?
Nate: Twenty questions.
Tara: I'll do it in ten. That one?
Nate: Right there.
Tara (pulls up skirt and grabs a drink): Oh. I'm Trish, and I'm lonely. (sits down at the bar) Shot of Jamie, rocks.
Doyle: That's only a bit of Irish. (sits next to Tara) How'd you like a whole lot of Irish?
Tara: And what do you do?
Doyle: Typical. Only Americans ask for your occupation before your name. I'm a bank, sweetheart.
(Parker picks Doyle’s pocket and hands the wallet off to Eliot)
Tara: You're a bit short for a bank.
Doyle: Very clever. It's a family business, mine. Based back in Belfast. I'm the VP in charge of overseas expansion.
Tara: Slow down. I love it. I love it.
(Eliot opens a passport and sends a picture of it to Hardison)
Eliot: Nothing but cash and an ID.
Hardison: I'm running it, but we got next to nothing on this guy. No bank accounts, no credit cards. He's totally off the grid.
Doyle: Mark Doyle, loan shark. If I were ashamed, I couldn't do my job, could I? I provide a service for people with no recourse, help those with nowhere else to turn. Society needs me.
Tara: Right, but isn't it, um, illegal?
Doyle: As me Da says, we pick up where the law leaves off.
Hardison: Got something on dear old Da. Tim Doyle. Not only runs the family loan-sharking business, but used to kill people with nail bombs for the IRA.
Doyle: You see, I convinced me Da to let me open a branch over here in Boston. Grow the business, as it were. For 200 years, America took Ireland's best and brightest. I'm just here to collect the interest.
Tara: You are so smart.
(Tara touches Doyle’s face and Parker puts his wallet back)
Tara: So, why is it that everyone else is broke and you're not?
Doyle: Cash only, love. That's the secret. Numbers on a screen can be manipulated, but a cash business endures. It was good enough for my Da and his Da before him, it's good enough for me.
Hardison: I got plane tickets. Doyle's headed for Belfast in a couple of hours.
Nate: OK, well, that explains the deadline, but why take the bag of cash? Tara, I need you to ask something.
Tara: How long are you in town?
Doyle: Leaving tonight. Annual review, sort of. Show my new branch of the business is profitable.
Tara: How profitable?
(Doyle glances at his men, then opens the bag of cash he has with them for Tara to see)
Doyle: That's not all of it, mind. Just enough to repay me Da for his investment, and prove that this branch is very, very profitable indeed.
Tara: Well, then, you can buy a girl a drink. (gets up) Be right back.
Doyle: Hmm. (to bartender) Same again.
Eliot: Can't just steal the note, it's only gonna tick this guy off.
Parker: Can we con him in two hours?
Tara: More like an hour and a half. We can't pull something together this fast.
Nate: Fifty bucks. I got fifty bucks. Hardison, I need you to tell me what live sports are being broadcast. Tara, set the hook. You guys, I need cash.
Tara: No. It's impossible.
Parker: You want to run the wire. In two hours.
Hardison: One and a half.
Eliot: The wire's three weeks, minimum.
Nate: Look at it as the wire in a bottle, OK? Because no one's done it before doesn't mean it's impossible.
Tara: Yeah, it does. What are we supposed to do? Steal the wake?
Nate: Whoa, have some respect. Borrow the wake to save the bar.
Nate: OK, guys, nothing fancy, classic wire. You delay the sports feed. Now I know what's gonna happen, he doesn't, I get him to bet. Now, where's my cash?
(Hardison, Parker and Eliot are moving items from bookshelves)
Hardison: Look, man, it is 9:00pm on a Friday night. All the banks are closed.
Hardison: Daily withdrawal limits. If y'all want me to do an electronic wire transfer of 100 grand between the Caymans and Madagascar, I can do that. If you're talking cash, you're out of luck. I'm sorry. Welcome to the future.
Eliot: Just use your little slimmer thing, man, and gank the ATMs.
Hardison: It's called a skimmer, but thank you for trying. And, no, I don't have that thing anymore. We're the good guys now. I haven't used that thing in months.
Eliot: We've been the good guys longer than that.
Hardison: Well, we had a break.
Nate: Can we please focus?
(at the end of the bar, Doyle is holding Tara in his arms)
Hardison: Emergency fund.
(Eliot and Parker just look at him for a moment, then all three scramble. Eliot pushes over a chair and cuts open the bottom of it. Parker pulls several cereal boxes from the cupboard and dumps them out on the counter. Hardison takes the painting of Nate from the wall. Parker picks up several bundles of cash from among the cereal. Hardison carefully cuts the backing of the painting)
Parker: Whoa! What are you doing?
Hardison: Oh, what, you thought I kept Old Nate around for sentimental reasons?
(Hardison peals back the paper and pulls out several bundles of cash that he hands to Eliot, who has his own money from the bottom of the chair)
(Eliot walks into the pub and hands Nate the cash)
Eliot: Just a little over nine grand. That enough?
Nate: Yeah. I don't need enough to win, just enough to lose. It's perfect.
Eliot: I'll take care of the muscle. (moves away)
Nate: All right. Hardison, let me know when you got control of the feeds.
(Hardison cuts into the wood at the back of the bookshelves and pulls away the wood, exposing wires which he pulls out)
Hardison: Here. This is the cable to the television in the bar downstairs.
(Parker pulls the wires across the room)
Hardison: Nate, we're ready down here. I'm about to splice, well, everything.
(Nate moves up behind Tara and puts his arm around her, kissing her temple)
Tara: Oh, perfect.
Nate: Ah, come on, Trish, don't be like that, huh?
Tara: It was nice meeting you, Mark. (pushes Nate away and heads for the door)
Doyle: Hey. Thanks a lot, ya goby. I was making headway there.
Nate: Sorry, I'll make it up to ya. (to bartender) Get this guy a drink. Whatever he wants.
Doyle: Give me an empty glass and a bottle of the most expensive Scotch you've got.
Nate: Oh, wow, well played. (pulls out money to pay for the bottle)
Doyle: What's the story with the blonde?
Nate: The blonde, yeah, I used to go out with her until I broke her brother's kneecaps. That's all. Gambling debt. You don't pay, you don't walk. I don't care who ya are.
Doyle: All right. I'll drink to that. Have a seat. (to bartender) Get him a glass, will ya?
Nate: Oh, well, that's very kind of you.
Doyle: What's your name?
Nate: Name's Jimmy. Yeah, Jimmy Ford.
Doyle: Good to meet ya, Jimmy.
Doyle (lifts drink): Slainte.
(Hardison plugs wires into a panel and a game begins to play on the monitors)
Hardison: We are up and running. I've set the TV in the bar on a 20-second delay. Oh, Sisko just hit a jumper from the baseline.
Tara (walks in): We need info from the bodyguards, but I'm burned.
Parker: On it. (walks out)
Announcer: He's gotta get down more. Get around on the right side. No good. Rebound Archer.
Doyle: You make book on this game?
Announcer: ...lazy in the lane.
Doyle: How about a little action? Without the juice, of course.
Announcer: ...inside for Boston. Over to Myers on the left. They've sort of dropped into a deep two-three zone.
Nate: A hundred that Sisko misses.
Announcer: [TV] Currey down low now.
Doyle: I'll take that.
Announcer: Back out top to Sisko. He's picked up by Wanzer. Sisko from twenty. Bottom.
Doyle: For a bookie, Jimmy, you're not much of a gambler. (takes Nate’s money)
(Liam and Liam’s brother are playing darts when Eliot walks up, laughing)
Liam: What's your problem?
Eliot: You remind me of my sister. (throws a dart without looking and hits the center of the target) Yeah, it's all in the wrist. (to Cora) Hey, how are ya? Good to see ya. Can I buy a couple of beers for my boys and one for me if you don't mind. We're gonna play a little darts here.
Liam: Do that again.
Eliot: All right. (hits center of board without looking) I'll show ya how to do that.
(Cora gathers a tray of drinks and prepares to take it to Eliot and the Liams when Parker walks up)
Parker: I'll take this one.
Liam: Take these.
Eliot: Right. (sees Parker with tray) Oh, there it is. Look at that, some ale. Let me get these for the boys here. (starts taking glasses from the tray) One for you.
Eliot and Liam: Cheers.
Eliot (slaps Parker on the ass): Huh? Good game.
(the men laugh. Parker laughs too, and slaps Liam on the ass)
Liam: Whoo, you like that?
Liam’s Brother: Come on, love, give us a whacking.
(Parker slaps Liam’s brother on the ass)
Eliot: There ya go, right. Feisty little thing.
Parker: I got their cell phones and their wallets. (hands them to Hardison) Also lifted this. Doyle's ledger. (hands book to Tara)
Tara: It's written in code.
Announcer: Patterson without any touches and here comes Boston the other way.
Nate: All right, another 500 that he misses. (puts money on the table)
Announcer: Doesn't have it. Back out to Sisko.
Announcer: He puts it up again and drains it.
Doyle: I almost feel bad taking your money. (sees Nate’s full glass) What, are you too good to drink with me?
Nate: No, no, I'm.--
Doyle: I'm not betting again, if you have the advantage of me, Jimmy boy.
(Eliot looks across the room toward Nate)
(Parker, Tara and Hardison stop what they’re doing and wait)
Nate: Well, you're right. I mean, I might as well. You know, I mean I'm getting my ass handed to me. You know, drowning my own sorrows here, right?
(Nate takes a drink, then looks back at Eliot, who is watching him. Nate looks away and takes another drink)
(Parker shakes her head and Hardison sighs)
Tara: So, this is...
Hardison: Not good. I'm grabbing all I can off of Liam One and Two's cell phones. We may be able to use any common GPS coordinates to triangulate the location of Doyle's office.
Tara: And I'm close to decoding this ledger.
Tara: And alphanumeric substitutions.
Parker: You know how to read that?
Tara: Yeah. I trained in cryptog... Never mind.
Hardison: Archer just got robbed.
Hardison: Lay-up at the other end.
Nate: OK, a thousand says Archer gets schooled.
Doyle: No way.
Announcer: Archer's at the top of the key. He drives the lane. Ball is stripped by Arnie Risen. Now the pass to Myers...
Doyle: Archer gets payback, double or nothing.
Hardison: No, turnover. You're good.
Announcer: Inbound by Archer. He throws it away.
Doyle: Who are you throwing it to? There's no one there.
Announcer: Two mistakes by Archer in a row.
Doyle: Ah, what the hell, I'm playing with your money anyway.
Nate: Yeah, well, for a loan shark, you're not very good with money, are you?
Tara: It's got Mike Duffy, 78 Oak Street.
Hardison: Borrowed the money to put his mom in a nursing home.
Tara: OK, Alison McCoy.
Hardison: I got her, special needs child. School bills. You know, Nate, we just cracked this ledger, and Doyle is way, way deeper into this neighborhood than we thought. OK, Nate, Boston wins with a three-pointer. Nate?
Hardison: Eh, Nate?
Doyle: That pile of cash in front of you looks mighty inviting. I got a plane to catch. One last bet?
Nate: Well, I mean, there's almost $10,000 here. I mean, you have the cash to match it?
Doyle (looks at his case): Nah. My cash has other obligations. (pulls out the napkin)
Nate: Ah, no, no. I'm not gonna take a marker.
Doyle: Don't have to take my marker. (nods to Cora) Take hers.
Nate: How do I know she's good for it?
Doyle: You don't. That's why it's called gambling.
Parker: How's it going? You both feeling good?
(Parker puts back the Liams’ wallets and goes to stand near Eliot)
Parker: What's Nate thinking?
Eliot: He's not.
Hardison: Nate, you got ten seconds. Place the damn bet.
Tara: Don't be cocky, Nate.
Announcer: The shot clock has been turned off. There are 20 seconds remaining in the ballgame. Boston working for a last-second shot.
Nate: All right.
Announcer: Down by two.
Nate: Let it ride. Boston wins. Hmm?
Hardison: Whoo! Yeah, baby. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about right there. Yeah.
Tara: I didn't realize you were quite that into basketball.
Hardison: Ba-basketball? Woman, we just pulled off the wire in the time it takes to get a pizza delivered. This is a big win. Big. They're gonna talk about this one.
Announcer: Three pointer. He got it. He got it. Boston wins.
Nate: No hard feelings, right?
Doyle: Huh. You know what? Good riddance. That bitch is your problem now. (picks up case) Was a fine way to kill some time. I come back, maybe we can do some real business, Jimmy Ford.
Nate: You're on. (gathers money and stands up)
Eliot: We got lucky on that one.
Nate: We're not letting him go.
Parker: But we saved the bar.
Nate: We're not letting him go. The night's just getting started.
(Nate, Parker and Eliot stand in the doorway to the back of the bar, watching Doyle collect his men and go toward the door)
If he goes back to Ireland, flashes that money to his father, he'll be back within a week and with more muscle, heat and protection. He'll be in every corner of this neighborhood. We won't be able to pry him loose.
Eliot: How can you be sure?
Nate: Because that's what my father did. Now, I know this guy. I know what he's about. Right now, right here. This is the time to put a spike in him for good. It's our only shot.
Hardison: Final sh... Nate.
Hardison: Do you have another con up your sleeve?
Nate: Uh, no, yeah, yeah. Well, yeah. No, this one's maybe a little bit more, uh, impossible. Let's go to the storage room. Uh, Tara, stall him, stall him.
(Tara walks in the door)
Doyle: Hey, beautiful.
Tara: Don't beautiful me.
Doyle: Sorry, men's business, money's money, love. Look, I'm heading out. Give you a ring when I'm back?
Tara: You're not going anywhere. It's turning into a blizzard out there.
Doyle: Doesn't look too bad.
Tara: I couldn't get to the corner shop for smokes. But, hey, you wanna sit in the tunnel for three hours, be my guest.
Doyle: Can't have that. Liam's Brother here is claustrophobic.
(Liam’s brother nods)
Doyle: Fair enough. Let's check the weather on the telly.
Tara: Yeah. Let's check the weather on the telly.
Hardison: Ch-check the weather on... Woman, you did not. (runs for the stairs)
Nate: So we're gonna lure him into a high-stakes poker game.
Eliot: Except you have no high stakes.
Parker: And no poker game.
Nate: Well, I got enough to slow-play him for maybe half hour or so. Hardison, have you found Doyle's address yet?
Hardison: I'm a little busy.
Hardison: Hey, Nate, this green blanket have any special memories?
Nate: Uh, no. Why?
Hardison (drapes blanket over monitors): Uh, no reason. (checks laptop) OK, the computer's still grinding out the cell phone information, I will hit you as soon as I get an address. (undresses as he goes upstairs)
Tara (trying to use monitor): I think this thing needs batteries.
Doyle: Here. I got it.
Nate: OK, you guys hit the road. Harrison's gonna text you the address. Now, Doyle, he deals in cash. The rest of it will be at his office so bring it to me.
Eliot: His money. You're wanna play with his own money.
Nate: If we pull this off, Doyle's gonna leave every dime he owns on that table. Now, I assure you his father will never forgive him for that.
Parker: What if I can't crack his safe?
(Eliot and Nate look at her, she smirks)
Parker: Seriously? C'mon.
Eliot: Let me ask you one more question. Would you consider trying this if you were sober?
Nate: I'd consider it.
(Eliot and Parker leave)
(Hardison tosses clothing down the stairs and comes downstairs half dresses. He turns the laptop around and sets up a weather report background before moving in front of the green screen)
(Doyle messes with the batteries of the remote before getting it working)
Doyle: Here ya go.
Hardison: Thank you, Chet. So, uh, whoo! We are really snowed in here, up, in, uh...
Tara: Wrong side, Hardison.
Hardison: Uh, Seattle, but it's way worse here in Boston. I mean, the highways are jam-packed, the turnpike is shut down at the 495 interchange, no flights in or out of Logan for a couple of hours. Hey, you know what, if you are a stay-at-home mom, you break out the wine and the Xanax, 'cause we're having snow days here, people. Back at ya...
Doyle (turns off TV): Give me a sec. (moves away)
Nate: All clear.
Nate: Was that my jacket?
Hardison: You know what, man? You're lucky I'm not wearing your underwear. And the next time y'all call me it better be for something easy, like faking a moon landing.
Nate: OK, Tara, here's what I need you to tell him.
Doyle (talking to his men): I'm in. Give me a few minutes.
Liam: With her?
Doyle (to Tara): Looks like we have some time to talk after all, macushla.
Tara: Should have played with me instead of Jimmy the first time.
Doyle: Fair enough.
Tara: You wouldn't got cheated. (to bartender) Can I get a rum and Coke?
Doyle: Wait, what?
Tara: He cheated you. He does it to all the tourists who come in the bar. (to bartender) Rum and Diet Coke, actually.
Doyle: Oy, explain.
Tara: The crappy cable TV in this bar? The sports channels are all on a local five-minute delay. So Jimmy spots a mark, calls a friend who's watching on satellite and he gets the action texted to him on his phone. You didn't see him looking at his phone? He ran you right up.
Doyle (grabs Tara): Why didn't you tell me this the first time?
Tara: Men's business. You hurt my feelings.
Doyle: Stay here, I'm gonna kick his arse. Then I'll be back, hurt your feelings a bit more. (moves away toward his men) All right.
Cora: Nate, did you find a way...?
Nate: I need you. (grabs Cora’s arm)
Nate: Tara, here's the trick. We're not gonna cheat him.
Nate: He's gonna cheat us.
Cora: Who's Tara?
Tara: Wait. You can't go back there. (grabs Doyle) Wait, he's playing cards.
Tara: So it's a protected game. You've heard about McRory's, right? Everybody comes here? Everybody back in that room is a heavy hitter.
Doyle: How heavy?
Tara: Local families. Irish, some Italians from the North Shore. Sometimes a guy comes up from Providence. But you start something in there... Look, come back to the bar. Buy Trishie a drink. (tries to drag Doyle back to the bar)
Doyle: Ford's back there playing? I'm not a bad card player myself.
Liam: I don't know about this. My brother's not so sure either.
Tara: See? Liam and... Liam's Brother are right. He's already shown he can beat you.
Doyle: Cheat me. And nobody cheats a Doyle.
Tara: Well, it's not like you can go in and cheat him back. He's the best at this. This is how he makes a living. Listen, your father never has to know that you got burned. Your dad never has to find out.
Doyle: He was sweet on you, right?
Doyle: He didn't see you with me just now, right?
Tara: I don't think so.
Doyle: What would he do if you went in there and sat on his lap?
Tara: What would you do?
Doyle: I think this'll work.
Cora: This will never work.
Nate: Of course it will. Gentlemen, I have a proposal for you.
Donnelly: Who the hell are you?
Nate: Mickey, this is Jimmy Ford's son, Nate.
Donnelly: You anything like your father?
Tara: The guys he's playing with, pulling something's risky.
Doyle: You help me clean out Ford, you earn five percent.
Tara: Ten percent.
Doyle: Thatta girl. Ten it is. OK. Let's keep it simple. You cozy up to him and give me either Tom (holds fist) or George (straightens hand). Tom is bad for me. George is good for me. So if Ford has, say, pocket aces you will...
(Tara holds her hand up straight to touch her nose)
Doyle: Good girl.
Cabella: I don't know about this, Cora.
Nate: Listen, I'll take the heat if anything goes wrong. All you guys gotta do is just keep playing.
Cora: Please? For Dad.
Donnelly: Buy-in's 20 bucks.
Nate: OK. All right.
Cora: OK. All right.
Donnelly: Blues are ones, whites are five.
Nate: OK, now listen. H-he may wanna buy in for slightly higher. Are you OK with making him think there's more in the pot?
Cabella: The less I know about this the better.
Tara: He's in. I'm supposed to be softening you up.
Nate: All right.
Tara: Could I borrow him for one sec?
Tara: These locals don't look anything like mob guys.
Nate: They're McRory's friends, they're all I got. (grabs a bottle)
Tara: You actually think Doyle's gonna buy their act?
Nate: They'll be fine. OK? Everything's fine. Hardison, you find out where Doyle keeps the rest of his money? (pours a drink)
Hardison: Using the Liams' cell phone—
Hardison (looking at monitor): --I've been able to map the GPS fingerprints of their calls and analyze their patterns of movements.
Eliot: Led us to a warehouse. We're in now.
(Eliot and Parker climb through stock in a warehouse)
Hardison: What, I'm sorry. Led you? Led you to the warehouse?
Hardison: I had two cell phones and two minutes. Do you know else can do what I do? CIA, MI-6 and me.
Nate: OK, Eliot, I want every last penny—
Nate: --of Doyle's to end up on that table.
Parker: We'll clean it out.
Eliot: If we can find it.
Hardison: Seriously, you want me to find the safe for you two now?
Hardison: Look, I got you to the warehouse, go find someone to punch.
Nate: What I need you to do is let him win slowly, you know, until the money gets here then flip him. I want him walking outta here with nothing.
Tara: You do realize this is insane?
Nate: Well, you didn't say impossible. You're, ah, you’re softening.
Tara: You know, she warned me you were a drunk.
Nate: Yeah, well, it's different than before. Before, I used to think I was okay when I was drunk.
Tara: And now?
Nate: Now, I know I'm not OK. (takes another drink)
Liam (hands Doyle the bag of money): Twenty grand.
Doyle: Good. Stay right here. If Ford walks out with any money left, follow him around the corner and take it back.
Doyle: Evening, gentlemen.
Nate: What do you think you're doing? This is an invite-only game.
Doyle: Then invite me.
Nate: Well, it's not my call. Listen, do you know who these guys are? That's Mickey Donnelly, Johnny "the Fist" Cabella, and Danny McCann. I mean, uh, you know, I can't cross them. Hmm.
Doyle: Cash plays?
Donnelly: Cash plays.
Doyle: Nice. A lot more where that came from, boys.
Cabella: All right, ante up, gentleman. Game's five card draw. (deals cards) Mickey?
(Doyle watches Tara’s hand gestures)
Cabella: What do you do?
Doyle (puts a lot of money in: Ah, let’s just be interestin’ about this, shall we?
Donnelly: I'll see that and add another five.
Cabella: I'll call.
Nate (takes a pot of money): All right. Uh, just give me two. (puts more money in) All right, you got it.
Donnelly: Too rich for me.
Cabella: I'll see it. Call.
Doyle: Pair. Not for me.
Cabella: I only got a small pair.
Donnelly: You're bluffing.
Nate: Don't bet your nancy.
Donnelly: One, two, three.
Nate: Yeah, I'll see ya.
Doyle: I'll double it again.
Donnelly: You'll see me on the next hand. I'm out.
Doyle: Who's it to?
Donnelly: I believe it's on Jimmy.
Doyle: Are you out, big man? Hang on. And that sees you.
Nate: Call you. (lays down cards)
(Doyle takes the pot)
Cabella: Hey. Nice. Right. Nicely done.
Doyle: Nicely done.
Donnelly: Nice hand, Mr. Doyle.
Doyle: Running a little low there, Ford.
Nate: Yeah, relax. My niece is coming with more cash. I'll buy back in. Not a problem. I'm gonna get a drink.
Donnelly: All right, ante up. Yeah, I'm in for this one.
Nate: What's the ETA on the cash?
Eliot: We're at the safe.
Eliot: Parker wants to take it out for dinner and drinks first.
Parker: This is a Glen-Reeder Prestige from the 20's. So many memories.
Nate: Tell her to pick it up.
Eliot: Come on, Parker.
Parker: I would move a lot faster, if you weren't stomping around.
Eliot: Shh. It's not me stomping. I don't stomp.
(Eliot moves to the door and peeks out, then exits the room)
Doyle: Now, we are gonna do some serious business in this town, my father and me. You gents are huge in this town, we should get to know each other.
Doyle: We're already making a mark. Like, Mickey, you remember that deal went down with the O'Hares last autumn?
Donnelly: Mmm... I remember it.
Doyle: You involved in that?
Donnelly: You could say that.
Doyle: That job would have been a mess without me. I was the one who told 'em to use cigar boxes instead of orange crates.
(Eliot comes upon a man)
(man punches Eliot in the face, Eliot punches him back. The man attacks Eliot, who blocks the blows. They circle each other)
Doyle: Hey, Ford, are you buggering off already?
Nate: No. I'm--I'm in. Eliot, Parker, hurry up.
(Eliot dodges a blow and punches the man in the ribs before pushing him away, then driving him into a large sack and punching him in the face. Eliot turns to find another man approaching with a pole and ducks when the man swings. Eliot gets to his feet and grabs a broken piece of the pole. He hits the man in the back and legs, the parries a blow and hits the man in the back again. The man moves to swing and Eliot drives the pole into his stomach, knocking the man to his back. A third man approaches)
Eliot: Hey. Come here.
(the third man runs away and Eliot throws the pole after him. In the office, Parker hums to the safe until Eliot follows the third man into the room)
(the man swings at Eliot, but Eliot punches him in the face. Parker continues to try and crack the safe as Eliot grabs the man’s head and drives it down onto a desk)
Parker: Would you...! I can't hear a thing.
(the man swings at Eliot who dodges the blow and grabs the man in a head lock. Parker kicks the man in the head, knocking him out)
Eliot: I had it.
Parker: I am trying to work here.
Eliot: Well, hurry up.
(Parker opens the safe and takes out the money)
Cabella: I'm out.
Doyle: You out of your league, Ford?
(Parker enters with an envelope)
Nate: Just in time. (takes the envelope) Uh, thank you, sweetheart.
Parker: Mm-hmm. (leaves)
Nate: Cash plays.
(Nate takes stacks of money from the envelope and lays it on the table. Doyle looks at the money)
Nate: What's wrong there, Doyle? Cash plays, right?
(Doyle turns over a stack of cash and sees the mark Liam’s brother makes on his money)
Doyle: Let's see now.
Liam’s Brother (marking money): Two hundred and ten.
Liam (writing in book): Noted.
(Doyle stands and pulls gun, aiming it at Nate’s head)
Doyle: What kind of idiot do you take me for?
Nate: Doyle, what are you so upset about? We're playing a game here.
Doyle: I know exactly the game you're playing. You're all playing it together. With my money. (picks up some money) This is my mark. I've just spent the last year running the only bank that would lend to any plank and neddy in this hole. And I marked every damn dollar I collected like so.
Donnelly: So you're a loan shark.
Doyle: Aye, I'm a loan shark.(points gun at Donnelly) And these are my teeth. No one cheats a Doyle.
Nate: I'd put that thing down unless you wanna get yourself killed. You don't know who these guys are.
Doyle: I know exactly who they are. A bunch of local thicks you recruited for this little game of yours. Well, game's over, boys. (puts bag on table) Start handing over your money.
Donnelly (holds up a badge): I'd put that gun down if I were you.
Doyle: What, this another prop for your wee game?
Donnelly: Yeah, (pulls a gun) and this is a prop I got from the Boston Police Department.
(Cabella grabs Doyle’s gun from his hand)
Donnelly: Point that gun at me again and I'll be calling my friend in the Coroner's Office.
Doyle: You're a frigging guard?
Tara: I think he prefers detective. Don't you, Mickey?
Donnelly: Sergeant Detective, Organized Crime Division. And these are my friends, Lieutenant Cabella and Captain McCann.
(Cabella and McCann hold up their badges)
McCann: Nice to meet ya.
Doyle: What the hell is going on here?
Nate: Gentlemen, I have a proposal for you.
Donnelly: Who the hell are you?
Cora: Mickey, this is Jimmy Ford's son, Nate.
Donnelly: You anything like your father?
Donnelly: So. What's your proposal?
Nate: OK, you let me and my friend Doyle, ah, in on your game and I guarantee you he will leave all his money on the table and confess to at least one felony, probably more.
McCann: So you're telling me this Doyle kid's gonna march right in here, confess to a crime and give us all his money?
Nate: If all goes to plan.
Donnelly: I don't know what kind of schmuck would do that, but I'd sure as hell pay to see it.
Doyle: This is entrapment.
Donnelly: Entrapment, huh. You think so? What do you think, Captain?
McCann: As I recall it, I'm pretty sure he came in here, put his money on the table and asked into our game.
Donnelly: And, if memory serves, he confessed to being a party to that O'Hare job down by the docks last year.
Doyle: We're already making a mark. Like, Mickey, you remember that deal went down with the O'Hares last autumn?
Donnelly: I remember it.
Doyle: You involved in that?
Donnelly: You could say that.
Doyle: That job would have been a mess without me. It was me who suggested they use cigar boxes instead of orange crates.
Cabella: First break we've had on that case in months.
Doyle: All right. All right. Fair enough. How's about I walk away with what's mine, you walk away with what's yours. And for your understanding, I'll make a little contribution to your retirement fund.
(Nate grabs Doyle’s arm and pushes him down on the table, holding his head onto the felt and his arm high behind his back)
Nate: All right, now, listen to me. This is what you're gonna do. You're gonna leave this bar. You're gonna get out of town. You're gonna go home to Daddy and tell him that your business went bust. Or I will call him and tell him that you gambled away all his profits to a roomful of cops. You will never set foot in this town again or they will throw your ass in jail. Understood?
Nate: Yeah, and one more thing.
(Nate breaks Doyle’s finger. Doyle screams)
Nate: Get out of here.
Donnelly: You're exactly like your father.
Tara (gathering money): So I guess this is, uh, all evidence, huh? Never make it back to the people it belongs to.
Donnelly: I don't know what you're talking about. I've been at the movies all night long.
McCann: Me and Johnny here had tickets to the game today.
Cabella: Great game.
(the police officer’s leave)
Nate: The ledger?
Tara: Every name. I mean, I'm still gonna take my...
Nate: Yeah. Take your cut. I would expect nothing less. Take it.
(Parker hands money to a man at the bar. In another part of the room, Hardison hands a couple more money)
Tara: Oh, my God. I can't believe you actually pulled this off in two hours.
Nate: Hour and a half. Softening.
Eliot: Definitely softening.
Nate: You guys get it squared away?
Hardison: Yep. Every last dollar.
Parker: Every last one.
Cora: On the house. (sets down a tray of drinks) It's the least I can do. You guys saved me today. All of us. Thanks.
Nate: Yeah, listen, I'm kinda beat. I'm gonna head upstairs.
Hardison: Wait, I'm sorry, wait, where?
Nate: Upstairs. Where I live.
Hardison: OK. Cool. That's cool. Except, how about this? You stay down here a couple more hours? Get an appetizer. Cora, what's good on the menu?
Cora: Calamari is really good.
Nate: Yeah, I don't really want calamari. I wanna go to bed.
Hardison: Cool. You can. In a minute. Y'all wanna help me?
Eliot: I ain't. This is your mess.
Hardison: What do you mean it's my mess?
Nate: What are you talking about? I don't understand. What mess?
Hardison: It's nothing. It's not a mess. It's nothing.
Tara: I don't clean. I'm going home.
Hardison: What you mean, you don't clean?
Tara: There's no maid service.
Hardison: If it was a bag of dirty money you'd clean that. I bet that.
Eliot: I'm not doing it if she's not.
Tara (stands): It was really nice meeting you, Cora.
Cora: Thanks for everything.
Tara: Well, he's the one you oughta thank.
Cora: Yeah. Thanks.
Nate: Ah, it was nothing.
Cora: You remind me of your old man sometimes.
Nate: Well, that's just an awful thing to say to someone who has saved your ass today. Come on.
Cora: He has good qualities, Nate. You've just never been able to see them.
Nate: He uses people and takes advantage of them. Come on, you know that.
Cora: Well, he takes care of his friends. Like you do. My dad would be really grateful for what you did here today.
Nate: Your dad was a good man.
Cora: He was. But they all have their flaws.
(Nate looks over to his father’s stool. He picks up a shot)
Nate: To fathers.
Cora: To fathers.