Rhythm Section, The (2020)

[bunniefuu]

Think of your

heart as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Lisa!

Front bedroom.

Hi.

I'm Keith.

Half an hour, 100.

An hour, 150.

I just want to talk.

Let's get the money

out of the way.

Yeah.

What's your name?

Lisa.

Is that your real name?

My name's Lisa.

Unless you want it to be

something else.

- How about Stephanie?

- Sure.

Stephanie Patrick?

Your parents, they were on the

Northeastern Airlines flight

that crashed,


into the Atlantic three years ago

with your sister

and your brother.

I'm a journalist.

I'm writing an article.

Look, it wasn't an accident.

There was a b*mb onboard.

Have you got

a cigarette?

No.

The bombmaker is here.


He's in London.

He's free. He's walking

the f*cking streets.

I'll be back in a minute.

Up. Come on.

Get off me.

Get off me!

I just want to talk,

Stephanie.

- Go on. Get out, guv.

- All right, I'm going!

You have

one saved message.

Hello, sweetheart.

Uh, Dad left his wedding ring

on the counter.

Can you grab it?

See you at the airport.

We love you.

What are you doing?

- Can you prove it?


- Just get in.

So where are we going?

You can't have sex with me.

That's a relief.

f*ck you.

Can you move?

You want a drink?

I'm gonna get a beer.

Is that the man


who k*lled my family?

That's Mohammed Reza.

He made the device.

- So he's a bombmaker.

- And the security services,

they've got him

under surveillance,

- but they won't bring him in.


- They know who made the b*mb

and they won't

f*cking bring him in?

No.

- Well, why not?

- I'm not sure yet.

Maybe they're worried

that if they do,

they might

lose his network.

Maybe they're also more scared

of who he might lead them to,

maybe one of our friends

in the Middle East.

Ramifications of that

could be huge.

Can you imagine

if this stuff gets out?

That they've let a known b*mber

walk the streets of London?

That all of this,

all this...

The plane crash

was a cover-up?

The fallout would be

catastrophic.

How do you know all this?

Research.

And my source.

- And I'd prefer it...

- And you know your source...

- ...if you don't smoke, please.

- ...is telling the truth?

- How do you know?

- I'd prefer if you didn't smoke.

How do you know your source

is telling the truth?

He hasn't

steered me wrong yet.

So this source,

what does he need you for?

He can't do it himself.

He's part of

the intelligence community.

Ex-MI6, but he's still

an insider.

And he needs you

to help him.

Is that right?

I can help you.

You should have

left me alone.

But I didn't, did I?

'Cause I make

such a good headline.

Some tragic,

middle-class student.

I'm not that

kind of journalist.

And I'm not here

to sell papers.

You could have had

any life you wanted.

This is the life I want.

Instead of being the top

student at Oxford that you were?

I don't believe you.

Why did you come for me?

You're another victim.

You're just not dead yet.

Who was Martin Douglas?

The man in the seat

meant for me.

He was an architect.

From Uniondale, New York.

- Was he married?

- Yeah. Yeah, he was.

Did he have children?

Two.

B.

- Who else knows about all this?

- No one.

Well, what about

your source?

B.

Is that your source?

What's B stand for?

- Is B in Scotland?

- Leave it.

What's his name?

What's B stand for?

It doesn't matter.

You'll never find him.

I've got to go out.

I've got a meeting. So...

That's if you need anything,

and there's some keys.

I could disappear

and take your keys.

And I could

change the locks.

- That a new coat?

- No.

What do you think,

I'm a f*cking Travelex, Lis?

What do you need,

one or two?

And a g*n.

You? A sh**ter?

Do me a f*cking favor, Lis.

I'll just find someone else.

Can I help you?

The bag.

Where's my bag?

Stop!

Hey. I need to go that way.

Sorry,

we're going into the town.

You'll just have to

make your own way.

Get the f*ck off me!

Get the...

Let go of me!

Stop!

Take off your coat.

Take off your coat!

Empty the pockets.

- How long since your last hit?

- I'm not an addict.

- You're not an addict?

- I'm a user.

- This for me?

- No.

Huh? Is this for me?

You'd have to get

very close.

Close enough

to hit me with it.

It's not loaded.

Wait!

Stephanie.

That's your name, isn't it?

- Hmm.

- That's right.

Your parents would be proud.

Who else knows you're here?

- My parents are dead.

- I know.

Who else knows you're here?

- No one.

- I can't hear you.

No one.

No one knows. No one knows.

No one knows I'm here.

No one knows.

Why did you come here, then?

- I'm gonna k*ll Reza.

- Oh, God.

He must be terrified.

Help me find him.

You want to k*ll Mohammed Reza,

you need to hire a professional.

I don't have any money.

Oh.

Well, you have a job.

You're a prost*tute,

aren't you?

You're...

You're B.

You're Proctor's source.

Sorry?

I could go to a newspaper

and they would...

They would want to hear about

you and Proctor, I'm sure.

They'd want to hear

about you for...

Was that the same Proctor

you managed to get k*lled?

You might as well

have shot him yourself.

Look at me.

Look at me!

You don't have a clue

about the scale of the mess

you've caused.

No!

Where is Reza?

Help me find him.

Why would I do that?

You spooked Reza

with your cafeteria stunt.

Thanks to you,

he's vanished.

- I need to k*ll him.

- You can't even walk.

Then help me walk.

Laces.

f*ck you.

One second. One second.

Just one second, please.

I'm gonna say this now,

so you never turn around to me

and say I didn't warn you.

You're not made for this.

Can we talk about Reza?

You're wasting your time.

Hey.

I can get you fit.

I can teach you survival.

But in the end,

you'll still be you.

It'll take longer

than you want.

It'll hurt

more than you think.

Can we talk about Reza?

Almost certainly,

you won't succeed.

But if by some miracle

you do succeed,

this is what you'll discover:

It's not worth it.

Come on.

Just stop it.

- Give me a minute!

- Oy.

Don't treat me like

I'm f*cking worthless.

All right,

take off your clothes.

- f*ck off.

- Take off your clothes.

You won't run?

You can swim. Swim home.

I can't... I can't swim.

It's f*cking freezing.

I mean it, I can't swim.

I'll f*cking drown.

Is there anything

you can do?

You don't even know

what I've been through.

Drugs. Prostitution.

That's not a tragedy.

It's a cliche.

You're a cliche.

You don't have what it takes.

So drown.

Or quit.

I don't care.

I've got nothing to lose,

so f*cking try me.

- What about your life?

- What about it?

My family weren't

supposed to be on that flight.

They changed their plans

so I could join them.

But I didn't.

Not because I couldn't.

Because I...

Because I didn't want to.

So they flew without me.

All right.

Reza is an errand boy.

The man who greenlit

the attack on that plane

was a radical Islamist cleric

representing

a hardline government.

And he paid U17

to get the job done.

- What's U17?

- "Who," not "what."

U17 is code

for an unidentified person.

CIA classification

for a t*rror1st suspect

with no confirmed root name.

U17 could be anybody.

And what about the cleric?

Where's he?

Cleric was k*lled in a drone

strike two years ago.

Reza is our direct link

to U17.

You want Reza,

you're gonna want U17, too.

I want 'em all.

So this is Abdul Kaif.

He was an activist.

A visionary.

I read about him

at Proctor's.

Considered a massive threat

because he was a reformer,

from a region

terrified of reform.

They k*lled 239 people

just to get to a man

they could have shot

coming out of Harrods?

It was a message specifically

addressed to reformers:

We can get you anywhere

and there is nothing

we are not prepared to do.

Abdul died

fighting intolerance

and extremism.

Everyone else was

collateral damage.

Abdul's father, Suleman Kaif,

suspected as much.

He wasn't afraid to find out

who was behind this.

He financed Proctor.

Stop.

You got to get

your breathing sorted.

Don't panic.

Be calm. Be still.

You got to get your

rhythm section under control,

like in music, remember?

Think of your heart

as the drums.

- Yeah.

- Your breathing as the bass.

You get those sorted

and you're sorted.

Your heart as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Put another one in.

Never less than two.

Good.

- That's the easy part.

- What's the hard part?

Living with it.

You're gonna

have to be someone else.

Petra.

- Petra Reuter.

- Who's that?

- She was an assassin.

- Was?

- She's dead.

- Well, how's that gonna work?

Her body was never recovered,

so it's gonna work great.

Christ.

What the...

f*ck off.

You've f*cked the car

and now you're dead.

You're f*cking crazy.

Nice job.

Enjoy the walk home!

Enjoy the walk home!

Is this your wife?

Uh-huh.

- She's beautiful.

- Yeah, she was.

When are you gonna

teach me to fight?

We should probably

go over that, no?

Find something sharp.

Go for ears, eyes.

If they've got ba*ls,

go for those.

That's it?

We need to concentrate on

the abilities that you have.

Like languages.

This because

I'm a woman?

There are plenty of women

out there just as good as men.

So, make me one of them.

- It would take too long.

- How long?

How long?

It's been months.

I said, how long?

Your menopause would be

a distant memory.

f*ck.

Stop it.

No.

Go ahead.

Calm yourself.

Calm yourself.

Stop moving.

That's a good start.

Want some tea?

Hey.

Are you MI6?

Proctor said you were.

Not at the moment.

What does that mean?

That means I messed up.

How?

I k*lled Petra Reuter.

Deliberately?

Yeah.

I didn't k*ll her

by accident.

That's Petra.

How old would she be now?

Older than you,

but manageable.

Those three men

she's with there...

She k*lled all of them.

This is the nine-millimeter

hollow-point.

When that impacts soft tissue,

it flowers up to about

three times the size.

Creates a larger

wound channel,

severing arteries,

cutting nerves.

Massive blood loss,

hypovolemic shock.

You hit someone

in the sternum with that,

the bone shatters,

b*llet enters the heart...

The heart blows out.

- sh**t me.

- What?

- Right here.

- Are you out of your mind?

Shut up. Just do it.

Think of your heart

as the drums.

Your breathing as the bass.

Massive blood loss...

Clean through the body...

Hypovolemic shock...

When that impacts soft tissue,

it flowers up to about

three times the size.

You hit someone

in the sternum with that...

...the bone shatters,

b*llet enters the heart...

...the heart blows out.

I'm putting you

out in the field.

I received

counterintelligence information

that Reza's making

a new device for U17.

Word is

it'll be a major event.

So you're going to Madrid.

It's where Marc Serra lives.

That's Serra.

He's an information broker.

Used to work for the CIA,

now he trades

on the open market.

We use Serra to get to U17.

You're gonna have

to get close to Serra

to convince him

you're Petra.

- Who's gonna pay for all this?

- f*cked if I know.

You serious?

What about Abdul's father?

Suleman Kaif.

He financed Proctor.

- Good idea.

- Yeah, it is.

Go get us some money.

How did you get in here?

Far too easily.

What do you want?

- What do you want?

- Your son was on flight 147.

Get out of my house.

You tried to prove

that the crash was terrorism,

not mechanical failure,

but no one believed you

except Proctor.

- You know Proctor?

- Yes.

If you want to talk to me,

get that g*n out of my face.

Proctor promised to find out

the truth for me.

Instead, he stole my money

and disappeared.

- He's a fraud.

- No.

- He's a thief.

- No.

He's dead.

He was m*rder*d.

So why are you here?

To offer you closure.

And how would you do that?

Violently.

And, uh, what do you

want me to do exactly?

Just...

Just expenses, that's all.

Just expenses.

- That's all.

- That's all.

How did I guess?

Please, leave my house.

No.

On the inside.

My family's seat numbers.

People have gone to far greater

lengths than this to cheat me.

- I'm not cheating you.

- I don't know who you are,

but I'll find out.

Now, please leave my house.

How do you know

Proctor was m*rder*d?

- Ah, she is leaving.

- Because I found him.

It was my fault.

He was the first person

in three years

to treat me

like a human being.

- Come on, get out.

- He wasn't a fraud.

You've made a mistake.

Alia, leave it.

This doesn't concern you.

My son is dead.

And it doesn't concern me?

You know

as well as I do

that it is far more

complicated than that.

She has no idea

what's she's talking about.

- But I do.

- Alia, be quiet.

I will not be silenced.

You stay silent

if you want to.

You were right about the

flight and you know it.

Proctor showed me everything.

Whoever did it,

I'll find them

and I'll k*ll

every last one of them.

I can do it. I will.

But there will be

no public vindication for you.

k*lling the guilty

will not heal us.

I'm not looking

to get healed.

I will help you.

I will give you the money.

Here.

Your ring.

No, no. Keep it.

Keep it for me.

Got your

first contract for you.

Name of Lehmans.

He's a piece of sh*t, this guy.

Deals in arms, g*ns,

drugs, blood diamonds.

If anyone can find him,

it's Serra.

Why do I

have to k*ll him?

Lehmans is the one

who led me to Petra.

And she wasn't

the forgiving type.

There's something else

you should know.

He arranged for the b*mb

to be on that plane.

- Yeah.

- Hello, Marc?

Who is this?

I need you to find

Eric Lehmans for me.

Eric Lehmans, huh?

Never heard of him.

What about Petra Reuter?

You heard of her?

Uh, now I'm definitely

not interested.

But I'll tell you something.

You can have

this one for free.

Petra Reuter is dead.

I get that a lot.

Whoever you are,

you're not her.

Can you find him or not?

Let me...

Let me think about it.

Sure. Why don't you call me

when you finish your espresso.

Why are you

looking for Lehmans?

What?

Why are you

looking for Lehmans?

Never mind.

If you don't know why,

I'm wasting my time.

Hold on a sec.

- How much?

- How much what?

- How much will it cost?

- I'll let you know.

- Call me on this number.

- No.

We'll meet tomorrow.

Face to face.

- Okay, where?

- I'll text you.

Always figured you

for a blonde.

Did you find him or not?

The fee is 200,000 euros.

It includes a risk premium.

You must have

a low opinion of me.

I don't have

any opinion of you yet.

Payable by wire, no cash.

That works for me.

Lehmans has an air-transport

company based in Belgrade,

but he keeps his distance.

He's changed his name

and lives alone

in Tangier, in his apartment

and rarely goes out.

Have fun.

Who sent you?

Your outline's unclear to me.

Ah.

But you smell like a woman.

It's Petra Reuter.

If it was,

I'd be dead already.

You are.

Petra had a reason to k*ll me.

What's yours?

Stay.

Three years ago.

Ah...

Flight 147.

No, get off me!

Hey.

Hey.

Hey, you!

Whoa.

Back up!

Get the f*ck back.

Fairuz!

Get on your knees.

Get on your knees!

A genoux! A genoux!

Hey!

Hey!

Go!

f*ck.

Go!

Move! f*cking get out!

No. f*ck!

sh*t. sh*t. sh*t!

f*ck!

You really left your mark

on Tangier.

You never told me

about his protection.

Lehmans made too many

enemies not to have 'em.

I'm surprised you didn't

know that... Petra.

- I got a proposition for you.

- What?

An American financier

named Leon Giler.

He's being investigated

by the authorities in the US.

My client's concerned he may

be tempted to cut a deal,

save his own skin.

Why is he being investigated?

He got greedy with

other people's money.

And it's time-sensitive,

I'm afraid.

If you need more time

to think about it,

we can meet up again later.

If you're around.

Strictly business,

of course.

What else would it be?

What's up?

It's Serra,

he wants me to take a contract.

Some businessman in New York

named Leon Giler?

Take the contract.

Giler is suspected of having

financial dealings with U17.

It's believed he funded the cell

that brought down the plane.

One more thing. Serra.

When it comes to the money,

make it hurt.

Petra always did.

I'll do it

for two million cash.

- You're sh1tting me.

- No.

I imagine

for whatever problem

your client has with Giler,

that's gonna feel cheap.

And then I still owe you 200,000

for finding me Lehmans, so...

It's really only

1.8 plus expenses.

That's not reasonable at all.

Well, this isn't a

reasonable business, is it?

So where exactly have you been

for the past few years?

You're the information

broker, Marc.

- What?

- I don't know.

You're much more human than

I thought you'd be, Petra.

Then it's a good disguise.

Yes, it is.

So, what's your story?

You're from Munich, right?

I think you know

I'm from Berlin.

Ah, Berlin,

that's right. My bad.

It's just you don't speak with

a trace of a German accent.

- How long have you lived here?

- About six years now.

Since you left the CIA?

You know,

there's a lot of people

that think that you're dead,

who would love to know

that you're not.

Why not just disappear?

We are what we are.

Right?

Giler. One million dollars.

The price is two million.

Why did you k*ll Petra?

She m*rder*d

an MI6 colleague of mine.

I found myself in a position

to return the favor.

So what was the problem?

I was ordered

to stand down.

I did it anyway.

MI6 ordered you

to stand down?

No.

CIA.

CIA hired Petra

to track and k*ll U17.

Anyway, I shot her.

CIA got very upset,

MI6 had to do something.

Petra was meant to k*ll U17

before my family's

plane went down.

So that's why I'm here.

To finish the mission

you f*cked up.

Was your wife

the MI6 colleague?

Any regrets then?

You told me revenge

is never worth it.

So I'm asking you,

any regrets?

Giler's security is tight.

No g*n will get through,

- not the way you're going in.

- Which is how?

He owns a penthouse

on Central Park West.

Not his family home.

- A mistress?

- Call girls.

Gas him first.

Square in the face, okay?

- Are you listening?

- Mmm.

When he goes down,

cut his throat.

You go in deep, you go in hard.

Ear to ear.

Gas him first,

or you won't manage.

And wait until you're undressed.

- You got a better idea?

- I don't have a worse one.

You have to walk out,

not run out,

and you can't do that

covered in blood.

- You okay?

- Why wouldn't I be?

I never thought

you'd get this far.

Penthouse.

One moment. Guys?

I'll take that.

Hands out.

"Salbadal..."

Salbutamol. I'm asthmatic.

All that heavy breathing, huh?

Showtime.

He's just such

a petty m*therf*cker.

No, no, no.

No, Terry. No, no.

You tell him

I don't give a flying f*ck.

I'll just pull

the f*cking plug.

I'll pull the plug right now.

- No, no, you tell him what I said the first time.

- Hold on. Hold on.

- Who the hell are you?

- Lisa.

- Who?

- Lisa.

- Where the f*ck is Madeleine?

- She's off sick.

She's off sick?

- Nobody told me that.

- I'm sorry, is there a problem?

Yeah, a big f*cking problem.

Not less than

forty f*cking inches.

They should know that by now.

What are you, 36, max?

I can't work

with this sh*t, come on!

- It's never been done.

- Oh, it's been done plenty.

You do all the sh*t

Maddie does?

- With her t*ts and all?

- Oh, I can do a lot more.

- Yeah?

- I think you'll be surprised

by what I do for you.

Oh, wow.

All right, I guess

it's my lucky day.

Where's the bathroom?

- You got to use the bathroom?

- Yes.

Come on.

It's right behind you,

it's on the left.

Make it quick.

I got to call Tokyo in an hour.

The f*ck you doing

in there? Let's go!

What are you doing

in there, Cinderella?

Put your head down on my c*ck.

Head down.

Close your eyes.

Please don't.

Please don't.

Don't k*ll me. Don't k*ll me.

Don't k*ll me, please.

I have children.

A little girl.

She's only nine years old.

I couldn't.

I just couldn't.

NYPD sources

have now confirmed

the identities

of the four fatalities

in the car expl*si*n

earlier this afternoon.

Leon Giler,

his chauffeur Adam Ross,

and Giler's two children:

Michael, aged eleven,

and Melissa, aged nine.

That wasn't Plan A.

You were.

I saw the target

get into the vehicle.

I didn't know

the children were in there.

I have to live with that

for the rest of my life.

Where are you going?

Away from you.

Stephanie.

Stephanie, are you there?

Look, that b*mb

that Reza's making for U17,

there's still no intelligence

on the target or the place...

I've got

my own plan, Boyd.

I'm gonna do this my way.

What happened?

I don't know if I can be

who I was before.

You need some sleep.

Why did you leave

the CIA, Marc?

Okay.

The things they asked me to do

went way beyond

the call of duty.

You do that once,

you know it's wrong,

but you get over it.

And so you do it again.

And again. And again.

Until eventually,

you feel nothing at all.

So that's why

you're doing this now?

I was out on my own

and I had only one skillset

that had any value,

so I exploited it.

Then it was because

I needed to. Now it's...

It's just the thing I do.

Are you happy?

Are you?

If you would've told me

when I was fifteen

this is where I'd be now...

I can't even imagine

how I would've reacted,

apart from being angry.

- Angry teenager, huh?

- Mmm.

With the whole world.

All the time.

I'm sure.

- Hey.

- What is it?

U17 is the one who hired Serra

to take care of Giler.

- Stephanie?

- How did you find out?

Yeah, don't worry

about that right now.

- Just listen.

- Hey...

Who told you this?

What you need to know

is U17 is now eliminating

all connections to him.

So Serra is clearly next.

And so are you.

I have

another contract.

- Who?

- U17.

- Who is the client?

- You are.

I just found out U17 used you

to take out Giler.

That means you're next.

So what do you know?

Right.

Talk to you later.

U17's gonna be

in Marseille.

When?

At a peace march.

He's making a device.

- Who is?

- U17.

He's not even a believer.

He's got no faith at all.

Everything he does,

he does for profit.

Not for the Prophet.

You know his name?

Mohammed Reza.

- He's a bombmaker.

- I know who Reza is.

I used to think

that's all he was.

We didn't realize

that he could've been both.

You sure it's him?

Are you sure

you want to do this?

I'm sure.

- Because if something goes...

- I'm sure.

Why don't

use the phone?

You just don't

need the phone.

You just don't need it.

I'm with you.

Samira, we're in this together.

But he said to use the phone. That was the plan.

f*ck.

f*ck.

sh*t.

Open the doors.

I can't let you off here, sir.

Why?

The demonstration is right outside.

Where's the detonator?

Reza...

I'm gonna sh**t you

through the f*cking spine.

Where's the detonator?

If you sh**t me,

everyone dies.

Open the doors... Now!

Everyone get out!!

Everyone get out!!

It's not working.

There's a b*mb!

The detonator's not working!

Who are you?

You k*lled my family.

Serra sent you.

He'll k*ll you, too.

I know.

It's a timer. It's a timer!! It's a timer!!

You coward!

Go.

Go!

Well, just let me know

when you know for sure...

Yeah. Call you back.

- Hey.

- I have something to tell you.

I lost my family

three years ago.

They were k*lled...

...on the flight that exploded

over the Atlantic.

Flight 147.

What was that?

You know what it was.

I've been dying

for three years.

For you,

it'll be a few minutes.

What's it feel like?

Hmm?

How does it feel?

You shouldn't have

told me Reza was U17.

He's a f*cking nobody.

Sending me to k*ll

U17's connections.

That's when I knew

it was you. So...

Probably shouldn't

have done that.

You thought I wouldn't

want to believe it, hmm?

We were both pretending

to be someone else.

I just f*cking did it better.

There's no one left.

Stephanie?

Are you Stephanie?

Whoever you are...

...thank you.

Don't mention it.

Ever.

Back in MI6?

I could be.

One sharp twist.

Petra needs to disappear.

My name's Stephanie.

I hope I never

see you again.

Do you?