02x01 - Auction

[bunniefuu]

Look, Miles, I think
you know my story.

If I just had some cash, I could
maybe get some treatment

to buy me more time and,
uh, maybe see my son be born.

I am what you would call
a facilitator.

I represent a very exclusive,

very wealthy clientele
who pay exorbitant fees

for a unique,
one-of-a-kind experience

in a highly intense sport--

- hunting.
- You'd want them to hunt me?

Like you'd hunt an animal?

A sport in its purest form--

a hunt to k*ll.

It's a 24-hour hunt.

Every hour you survive,
the more money

is being wired
into your bank account.

And that continues
until the game ends.

If you survive the day,
you walk away rich.

You don't,
you die a few weeks earlier

than you would have anyway,
but you leave

your family set for life.

Your husband

turned out to be tougher prey

than we're used to.

Prey?

You set me up.

Now I'm hunting you.

The investors are aware.

That puts us all at risk.

In the 2,000 years
since these games began,

we have never ceased

a game prior to conclusion,

and I'm not about
to have the history

of what's been built
over millennia die on my watch.

So, do we have our runner?

We're spoiled for choice.

Our scouts have done
such an incredible job.

I believe I have the next three,

four runners
in my hands right now.

I'm glad to hear that,

because we have brought in
multiple new investors.

We've approved a group in Dubai

to purchase futures on winnings

of some
of our more established hunters,

and a sportsman in China just
cleared vetting and is willing

to pay top dollar
to participate in our event.

Ah, this is wonderful news.

So, we can't have any more
issues like in Detroit--

like hunters
coming after you personally,

the taking
of a civilian hostage.

It was an anomaly.

It was a mistake,

and mistakes have fathers,

and the board can't
let it happen twice.

Do you understand
what I'm telling you?

Yup.

I have much reading to get to.

Career petty criminal
Gary Glenn went viral

nine months ago
after he punched a clerk

during a failed shoplifting
in Van Nuys, California.

12 police cruisers,
two helicopters,

and it still took 28 minutes
and eight seconds

to apprehend him, running nearly
half an hour at full throttle.

Forensics found something
particularly interesting.

Yes,
we calculated distance traveled,

and we and were able
to determine

that the subject's last mile
was faster than his first.

He didn't just survive
under pressure. He thrived.

He is currently out on parole.

No job. He panhandles
on Ventura and sleeps at a YMCA.

But our psych division believes

he could be motivated
to participate

not just by money but by ego.

That's correct. A look
at Mr. Glenn's criminal record

and school files indicate
malignant grandiose narcissism.

To not participate in the game

would be to admit
he's not superior to others,

something he simply can't do.

Thanks, Dr. Martell.
I heard quite enough.

In fact, I should have
interrupted this presentation

after the first ten words.

Tina, do you remember
your first ten words?

Um, uh, yes, of course.

Um, uh, "this video

of career petty criminal
Gary Glenn went viral"?

Yeah. "Went viral."

Why would I want a runner

that millions of people
have seen on YouTube?

Why would I want such a
participant in a secretive game?

We have considered that.

You see,
the news cycle is so fast,

and the human attention span
is so limited,

we're confident that risk
of Glenn's dubious notoriety

interfering
with the game is minimal.

Our tech division has been
scrubbing the video

from the Internet.

I mean, views have fallen
to almost negligible numbers.

"Almost negligible"
is not negligible.

Respectfully, sir, Gary
Glenn is a fantastic candidate--

from his physical attributes
to his psychological profile.

To dismiss him out of hand
would be foolish.

Tina,
how long have you been with me?

Eight years.

Yeah, because I saw
potential in you.

We both know
you're better than this.

I have an auction coming up
in a week and no product.

Where are the runner-ups?

25 very solid candidates.

Yeah. I'll determine that.

Victor Suero,
what are you all about?

Let's go, Victor! Let's go!

Move your feet!
Move your feet!

- Drive your hips!

Cover up, cover up.

- Hey, Paddy, call the fight.
- He's defending himself.

He's a punching bag.

Victor, I'm ending it.

Don't throw.

That's it.
We're done. We're done.

- That's it. That's it.
We're done. We're done.
- No!

We're done.

Why'd you call it, huh?

Should've called it
two rounds ago.

Next time you come in my ring,
I'm not

letting your brother
near another fight.

- What?
- Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

No, no, no.
She's just f*cking around.

- Oh.
- Apologize.

- No. f*ck you, man t*ts.
- That's it.

I'm recommending the commission
suspend her for three months.

- Oh, I'm recommending
more vegetables!
- Come on, Paddy.

- You can't f*cking do that.
- f*ck you.

Maybe try a f*cking salad!

What, you want
to f*cking walk home?

You never
throw in the towel, Josie.

He was a can,
and he made you his b*tch.

Okay, I can't hear that.

So now you're deaf
and blind.

It's what I do, okay?

You're not very good
at it anymore.

Yeah?
Well, then stay home next time.

So, Paddy can let you
get ground and pound

till you see black?
Like in Inwood?

Inwood was a mistake.

You still fighting
is a mistake.

I should have a say
in things, too.

I'm not a little girl anymore.

- You're always my little girl.
- Fine.

Then what'd you promise
this little girl?

That one day we'd live
in a big old lighthouse,

so that even
if it caught on fire,

the waves would put it out.

You said
you'd protect me forever.

Can't do that
if you get yourself k*lled.

Payday. Door was light, man.

Oh. Thanks, Hanley.

You're welcome, buddy.

This...

...is our only way
to the lighthouse.

Team Tiro,
esteemed members of the board,

Madam Chairwoman,

and, of course,
potential hunters

linked in from around the world,

I give you
Victor "Victory" Suero.

Born in the hardscrabble neighborhood

of Grand Concourse, the Bronx,

he was a Silver Glove champion
by the age of 12.

He had Olympic Committee reps

drooling over him
by middle school.

He was not only destined
for gold medal glory

but to be the future
Light Heavyweight Champ.

And then tragedy struck.

At age 13, a fire tore
through the tenement

where Victor lived,
k*lling both his parents.

But through the flames
and the smoke,

he was able to heroically rescue
his infant sister Josephine,

but not before a burning ember
robbed him

of almost all sight
in his left eye.

This young man continued
to fight,

literally and figuratively,

to survive
despite his affliction.

He trained for years preparing
for low-level MMA bouts,

which, un-unlike boxing,
allow him

to fight despite
his-his impairment.

At age 18, he legally adopted
his sister Josie--

that's what he calls her-- and
became more father than brother.

So, to keep her
from foster care,

he had to work two,
three jobs at a time

while still chasing his dreams
of glory,

which truthfully-- at the age
of 33-- will never come.

And this is exactly why he will
be the greatest challenge

our hunters have ever seen.

He does not give up.
He does not quit.

He doesn't know how.

Look at him--
arms raised in triumph,

screaming at the sky in hopes

that Mother and Father
can hear him in heaven.

This man has more heart,
more grit,

than anyone we've ever admitted
into our midst.

He will provide a level
of competition

we've never seen before.

He stood toe-to-toe
with an inferno and won.

He is Victor in name
and victor in character.

It is, frankly,
a once-in-a-lifetime privilege

to have the opportunity
to hunt this man.

The opening bid
is $75 million.

Well, every hunter meets
the seminal price.

Well, let's separate the wheat
from the chaff.

$110 million.

Ten remain.
Only half can win the right

to participate in the greatest
hunt we'll ever experience.

Well, I know
what Victor Suero is made of.

Now, let's see
about our hunters.

$200 million.

Who will blink first?

$225 million.

And we have our team!

Congratulations.

Congratulations, Monroe, Tyler,

Pierce, Taft and Ford.

Business Affairs will provide
the wiring instructions

for our Panamanian partners.

Now, if you'll all excuse me,

I have to ensure
that Mr. Suero wants to be part

of our game as much
as you all do. Thank you.

- Two more, Mike!

All right.

Take it home.

Suero, Morelli can't cover
his 6:00 shift tomorrow.

You cover it.

Oh, no, no, Mr. Dupree,
I-I can't do 6:00.

I train mornings.

His wife's in labor.
He's already gone.

Oh, I-I get it, I get it,
but, look, I got a...

I got a fight coming up. Undercard.

$10K prize money.

- Really? $10K?
- Yeah. That purse is

gonna get Josie
into cosmetology school.

Vic, I love you, man, but

you couldn't beat an egg
with that eye.

My eye is fine.

It's actually getting better, hmm?

- Check my move.
- You're better?

- Yeah.
- How many fingers
am I holding up?

One.

You're giving me the finger.

Be here at 6:00.

Hello?

This Victor Suero?

Josephine's brother?

Jos...? Who's this?

Viele and Coster Street.

There is auto shop.
Bring your wallet.

- Hello?

Hey!

What the hell's going on?

I'm sorry. I f*cked up.

What do you mean
you f*cked up? What you doing?

Who are these people?
Mr. Suero.

Oh.

Is diet.

It's better than regular.

You called me.

To discuss your sister's...
situation.

I don't know who you are

or what she's doing here,
but you...

Josephine's valuable employee.

I like her very much,
but she make very large mistake.

You work here?

About four months.

What about the deli?

Pay more here.

- To do what?
- I explain.

I hire Josephine because
she's young and beautiful--

kind of person
police do not bother.

So when she make pickups,
is no problem. Usually.

What do you push?

Money. I move currency
for people who cannot use banks.

Now, to be fair to Josie,
when she took job,

she thought there was
bookkeeping, some deliveries,

but after a while, I told her
what she was carrying,

for her own safety,
because I like Josephine.

But today

- she lost duffel bag on subway.
- I put it down to make a call.

- These punks grabbed it and ran.
- How much?

$500,000.

Go home, Josie.

Go home. Now!

Yo, what you looking at him for?
I said go home!

You are not the one

to be calling the shots here,
big brother.

Nobody leaves until I know
how I get my money back.

I'll throw a match.
I'm a fighter.

Your sister told me.

I have a bout coming up,
and you bet against me.

I fall.

Josie,

let men talk business, huh?

So, you are going to get me
my half million dollars

with your little boxing match?

What, do you think I'm idiot?

You're a nobody.

Who are you?

I grew up around here,
and I know everybody.

How come I don't know
who you are?

Because while you're off

doing your little
sports violence...

...I make real violence.

You know who I am now?

He was one of my best men,

but he entrusted Josie
with package.

Now, what do you think
I will do to person

who actually lost the money?

It would have
to be something so terrible,

so horrific, that everybody

in streets will hear about it,

will fear about it
so no more mistakes occur.

- I'm gonna get you the money,
okay?
- How?

Tell me how
you will get me my money.

Oh. Undercard fight
in VFW smoker, huh?

Oh, come on.

I put $5,000 on you.

Bookies will know
something's wrong.

No. No, no.
You'll get me my money.

I don't care how,
but you get me my money,

or Josie, your beautiful
little Josie, suffers.

Do not try to run.

You will never get out
of the Bronx.

You k*ll me,
you never get your money.

So you're gonna have
to give me some time.

I don't have to give you sh*t!
Your sister

lost money that belongs
to people I answer to!

You will get me my money
by end of week.

I ain't gonna have it
by then.

Okay. Okay.

Okay.

Here.

You call them.

They've helped others
who have owed me.

Loan sharks?

At least
they will give you some time.

Something I cannot do.

So, as soon as the
fight's over, that's it?

We're done?
Timur's off our a*s?

Oh, yeah, yeah.
He's plugged in with guys

that'll take in the action
in A.C.,

in Philly. You know,

he'll more than enough make up
what you lost him.

We'll be fine.

He'll leave us alone.

No one'll know I'm dumping.
I'll make it look good.

You should.
You've had enough practice.

Oh, yeah? You being wise?

Gross. Another knockout?

That's eight
out of the last nine.

Your age, your eye-- commission
will punch your ticket.

I'm just glad
you won't be fighting anymore.

- Yeah. I guess so.
- Good.

Well, I'm gonna go
to the bodega.

Gonna make some
lechon asado, some mofongo,

maybe a little dessert,
and we'll celebrate.

Yeah? Okay.

Be back soon. Mwah.

Hello?

Hi, um...

...my name is Victor Suero.

This is gonna sound crazy,
but I-I need a lot of cash.

I heard
you might be able to help me.

Of course I can, Victor.

Helping people's what I do.