I know that.
But I have a schedule to keep.
Hey, besides, we had an agreement.
Haven't you ever heard of the phrase,
"The customer's always right?"
Yeah, well, you should learn it.
Talk to you later. Sheesh.
What was all that about?
Ah, nothing.
Nothing, huh?
What, do you think I'm trying to hide something from you?
I know you are. (laughs)
Tactic number one.
What tactic?
(laughs)
Am I not entitled to have a little secret?
Well, of course you are, bubba.
I mean, what is this thing with you, man?
Every time I have a secret, you try to pry it out of me.
Pry it out of you!
You sing like a canary at Jump Street.
No, no, no.
Only under extreme pressure.
(laughing)
What pressure?
Aw, that's-that's tactic number two.
All right, don't tell me.
I don't want to know.
You can have all the sneaky little meetings
and mysterious phone calls you want.
All right, that's tactic number three... guilt.
No, no, no, no, no.
There's no tactic here.
I don't want to know.
Don't tell me.
That... That's-That's 3-A.
That's just three with a little topspin.
How best to convey this to you?
I do not want to know your stupid little secret.
Keep it to yourself.
Hey, how about those Niners!
Well, if you wanted to know the truth,
I was just about to tell you the truth, okay?
Hold that thought, bubba.
I can't believe it.
That can't be her, can it?
Tamara Van Zant.
Oh.
The spider returns to the web.
Wonder whose head she's gonna bite off this time?
Not mine.
Still looks good.
Don't remind me.
So, we gonna grab her?
Let's wait and see what she's up to first.
Joe.
Hey, now, who are
those guys?
BRIDGES: I don't know,
but we're not the only hombres at the dance.
Who are the real-world Illuminati ? Find out @ saveanilluminati.com
She made them.
Come on, Joe. We can't lose her.
Tamara Van Zant, fancy meeting you here.
You owe me 50 bucks and your life.
Yeah, but who's counting?
Federal agents. Nobody move.
We saw you, we saw you. Relax.
I'm placing this woman under arrest.
No, you're not. She's coming with us.
I'm flattered with all the attention.
Relax, bubba.
There's plenty of her to go around.
Trust me on that one.
(woman singing over bluesy organ riff)
CORTEZ: I didn't know Nash had a line on her.
I'm not so sure he did, Ev.
Well, clue me in, guys.
What am I missing here?
Tamara Van Zant... number one on Nash's Most Wanted List.
Nash was romantically interested
in that woman at one point.
She was trapped in a relationship
with a criminal... A union gangster.
She went to Nash for help,
and he took him down for her.
And what happened?
Well, it turns out she wasn't so clean.
Nash didn't know it at the time, but she was involved
in the shady business with her hubby.
Including possibly murder.
So she just wanted to get her hubby out of her hair.
Correctamundo. Correctamundo.
Soon as Nash put him in jail, she ran.
With one-point-two mil in dirty money.
And broke Nash's heart.
Ah, it's hard to know with Nash.
I mean, we've seen him get hurt over the slightest betrayals
and never think twice about the big ones.
Wow.
Her?
Her. Let's go.
Tamara Van Zant.
Boy, I never thought we'd ever see her again.
Yeah, well, life has its cute little way
of surprising the hell out of you, doesn't it?
Yes, indeed. So?
So, we get a statement from her, and put her in jail.
Just like anybody else.
Check it out.
What's this?
"Loco Joe's Family Style Salsa".
(chuckles)
Ah, the big secret.
Yes, indeed, man.
Every time I make this stuff,
everybody says "Joe, this is great.
"You should market
this stuff."
"Joe, this will sell like hotcakes."
I'm gonna do it.
I've rented a factory... A little, small little place.
I've hired ten workers, and I'm gonna do it.
Well, that explains the loco part.
No, no, no, no.
Not this time.
I have researched every angle.
I know the whole field flat.
You can't trip me up. Go ahead, try.
All right.
Where'd you get the money?
Investors provided the seed money
in exchange for a part of the profits.
Not a penny came out of my own pocket.
Next.
All right. Who's gonna buy it?
The traditional snack enthusiast is our target market.
Eight to 80.
Grandmothers, little kids,
sports enthusiasts, shut-ins, everybody.
How you gonna market it?
Glad you asked.
Mid-level independent distributors.
They control 80 percent of the family supermarkets
and ethnic groceries.
What's the I.F.?
The Inger Factor?
I'm tracking it at about four point three.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
Sounds like you're really on top of this thing.
Hey, man, you fall on your face enough times,
and, uh, you know, you're gonna learn something.
Hey, check it out.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
Maybe after lunch.
All right.
Mmm!
Joe, that's terrific!
You ought to market this stuff! Mmm!
Pica.
Alex Milosz,
Miss Van Zant's companion for the past ten weeks.
Cute guy.
That, uh, single-eyebrow look is much more attractive
than two, don't you think?
Hmm. Who is he?
He worked at the Plzen nuclear power facility
in the Eastern Czech Republic.
When the Eastern Bloc crumbled, plant security went with it.
He and a few friends started taking
their work home with them.
DOMINGUEZ: And U.S. Customs is involved because?
They were taking home
weapons-grade plutonium.
Plutonium?
As in mushroom-cloud,
your-teeth-fall-out kind of plutonium?
Well, is there any other kind?
Well, I don't know. You're the expert.
Unfortunately, Milosz dropped off our radar
three weeks ago. We...
tailed Miss Van Zant back to the states.
We're confident that Milosz
and the plutonium won't be too far behind her.
I've never heard of anyone named Milosz.
This was taken five weeks ago in Prague.
It's kind of cozy for a man you've never heard of.
You mean Alex?
I didn't know his real last name.
WOMAN: Where is he?
More to the point, where's the plutonium?
TAMARA: I know Alex
was into some interesting stuff, but I, I...
I didn't know anything about this.
Look, all
he told me was to check into the Fairmont Hotel,
and that he'd call.
Then again, maybe he won't.
Love's a fleeting thing.
WOMAN: Stop being coy!
We are talking about a possible
nuclear bomb here.
I heard you before.
Okay, look, I'll make you a deal.
Uh, excuse me?
Excuse me.
Could I talk to you a minute?
(sighs)
Pardon me, but are you crazy?
What exactly is your thought here?
I'm prepared to offer her full immunity
from prosecution on all earlier charges
if she cooperates
and if we recover the plutonium.
You're not authorized to do that.
I sure as hell can get authorized.
We have a case that'll put her away for life.
It's not her life I'm concerned about.
It's the two to ten million lives at stake
if a bomb goes off.
I'm telling you, don't do this.
Nothing is more important
than recovering that plutonium.
I can't argue with you there,
but you can't trust her to get it back for you.
I don't need her trust.
She's got information.
I've got her freedom.
Self-interest works with anybody.
Trust me.
Okay, here's the deal.
You get immunity on all your priors
if we get the plutonium.
You set up a meet with Milosz at the Fairmont.
Once it goes down, and we recover our assets,
you're free.
Clean slate.
I can live with that.
Uncuff her.
It's the right thing.
She's playing you.
Inspector, I've been watching Tamara Van Zant
night and day for about a month.
I've got a pretty good idea what I'm dealing with.
She doesn't have a clue, does she?
Not even close.
Got it, thanks.
What? I thought you busted her.
Yeah, well, customs asked us to step aside.
Well, so, what are we doing?
Evan, Michelle, get over to the Fairmont.
Get in all her phone records.
All of them.
Check and see if she's got a cellular account.
Harve, I want all the video surveillance tapes
from around Union Square.
She had all of 10 bucks in her purse and no plastic.
She wasn't there to shop.
Why was she there? Okay.
Uh, listen, Nashman,
I got some issues down at the salsa plant,
so, if you don't... Go.
Look, you know, if it's any consolation,
she always made you feel miserable at the end.
Thank you.
Yes, I remember.
Thank you very much.
DR. FONG: As requested, I've worked up
a number of more thermally intensive variations
of our base comestible foundation.
These are the finalists.
I hope you made it nice and spicy.
I like it real spicy.
All rate extremely high
on the Scoville Scale for capsaicins.
The Scoville Scale rates,
uh, how hot the peppers are, I guess?
Correct.
Alpha batch:
flavored with serrano pepper.
17,000 Scoville heat units.
17,000.
Chunky. Tomatoey.
Um, it doesn't have any kick to it, though.
I want it real spicy.
You like spicy?
Uh, yeah.
Delta batch: malagueta pepper.
90,000 Scoville heat units.
90,000... 90,000.
Better.
It's got, um, gums a little tingly.
Got a nice tang to it.
Is that the best you can do?
No.
This is the best I can do.
Zulu batch:
habañero pepper.
300,000 on the Scoville Scale.
300,000?
(chuckles)
(sputtering)
The habañero is also known as "Belizian Blowtorch."
My, my throat's closing up.
I will get you a glass of water.
Bring a straw, I'll drink through the hole in my stomach.
Dear God!
(coughing)
(sniffing)
You okay, bubba?
Yeah, I think my sight's coming back.
Attention, shoppers, item on aisle two.
I had to zip through 17 hours of tape
from seven different security cameras,
but, by golly, we got a hit.
The winner of this year's
"Looking Damn Guilty In A Supporting Role"
is Mr. Middleman himself.
BRIDGES: Well, bite me.
It's Karl Wamsler.
Everybody's favorite weasel.
(chuckling)
I wasn't meeting anybody.
I was looking for a gift for my mother.
Oh, is that right?
Well, you must've been having a hell of a time
trying to figure out what to buy,
'cause you were standing in the same spot for 40 minutes.
We got it on the tape there, Karl.
I wanted to put some thought into it.
After all, she's my mother.
(chuckling)
Does the name Tamara Van Zant mean anything to you?
No.
Did you see that?
Yes, I did.
Saw what?
You twitched.
What twitch?
I didn't twitch.
BRIDGES: You twitched!
Every time you lie, you twitch.
You guys are full of it.
I don't twitch.
(laughing): There you go again.
Man, you are "twitch-o-rama."
It's called a tell, Karl.
You'd make a lousy card player.
Now we know you were planning to put a deal together for Tamara.
And we even know what the merchandise is.
But we don't know where and when.
I think I'm leaving.
Unh, unh, unh, unh.
Now, Karl, there's only one reason why
anyone would want to buy plutonium...
To build a bomb.
Look, if you're gonna charge me with something, charge me.
Otherwise, I'm out of here.
Fine.
Just remember...
we gave you a chance.
DOMINGUEZ: See ya.
She's coming towards you near cosmetics.
Ah, nice trick.
You got my heart beating, feel.
Ah, I don't like to count my fingers more than twice a day.
I'm not as bad as you think, Nash.
Really? Mm-hmm.
I don't even think about it.
So, did you miss me?
Think about me?
Plenty.
Me, too. Mm-hmm.
What are you doing here?
What'd you do, run through that million-two already?
Mmm.
The Czech Republic was nice, but lacked certain amenities.
Decent lipstick, for one.
(chuckles)
I see the Fed's cramping your style.
Actually, it's comforting knowing I can be bad
and not get in any trouble.
Oh...
You're still quick, Nash,
but you lost your sense of humor.
Only when it comes to you.
That's too bad.
It's killing you
like it's killing me.
So close,
but you just can't get your hands on me.
Actually, I've got my hands all over you.
You just don't know it yet.
Touché.
♪ ♪
(shrieking)
(gunshots)
(screaming)
(gunshots)
(groaning)
Are you okay?
Was it good for you?
Not a bit.
Ahmed Khan, Pakistani national.
Why do you suppose he was after you?
Guess we'll never know.
Yeah, well, he'll never tell us, that's for sure.
Evan, Michelle, take Ms. Van Zant over to Lisa's.
Cassidy's up in the Humboldt camping.
Harve, transfer her hotel phone
so if Milosz calls she can take it.
Hold on a second.
Who's Lisa?
Don't take your eyes off of her.
Steps one foot out that door, shoot her.
Love to.
(phone ringing)
SIU, Inspector Dominguez.
Josote.
We got problems, Bro.
Who is this?
Marco, man.
Oh.
Who is it?
It's my, uh, commercial director.
Uh, so, what's the problem?
Our sound stage fell through.
What do you mean?
I thought you had that all set.
Well, I did, but they dumped us
in favor of a paying client.
So, bottom line,
I need five G's to rent a soundstage.
Five G's?!
Hey, no cash, no soundstage.
No soundstage, no commercial.
No commercial, no sales.
So, catch my drift?
Yes, I catch your drift.
It's up to you, 'mano. What do you wanna do?
I'll call you back "'mano".
Hey, Nashman?
No!
What do you mean, "no?"
You haven't even heard the question yet.
That's the beauty of it.
I already know the answer.
Look, we need someplace
to shoot this commercial, you know?
And your apartment would be perfect.
Hey, I got an idea... No!
It's a very small production, man.
We would be there two hours max.
You wouldn't even know we were there.
Exactly! You won't be there!
Take this, run this guy down
and make sure he doesn't fight it.
Nashman, I'm not a young man, you know?
And if it was just my financial future at stake,
I wouldn't even ask you.
But it's, it's Lucia.
Bubba, I love you like a brother.
Hell, you are my brother.
But every time we go down this road together,
I end up in the ditch.
No.
Okay, that's it.
No commercial, no name recognition.
Loco Joe's goes belly up.
I knew it was too good to last.
(laughing)
BRIDGES: Did you hear that?
Shameless.
He put every tactic he knows all in one move.
Unbelievable.
(muttering sadly)
You get one drop of salsa on my pool table, I kill you.
I love you, Nash Bridges. Oh, no, no, no!
Don't do that! Don't do that!
They talk about us already.
You know, if you're gonna do that much walking,
you should've worn some sensible shoes.
Don't get catty with me, darling.
If you do, I'll claw your eyes out.
Don't overestimate
how far you can get with what you've got.
(chuckles)
No, it's worse for you.
You've got everything you need,
but no clue how to use it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, girls.
What I need to do is use the restroom.
No, you-you stay.
I'll go. Okay?
I'm pretty sure I can handle this on my own, Evan.
Yeah.
Unless, um...
you have something else in mind.
Could be interesting.
Uh, well, actually, um, I'm gay.
(moans)
I don't think so.
Uh... nice try.
Make sure you wash your hands on the way out.
(chuckles)
(sighs)
MARCO: All right, everybody on their marks.
MAN 1: Quiet, everyone. Number one, please.
Everybody, number one. It's magic time.
Let's go.
MAN 2: Rolling! Background, action! Now, rolling.
(Dominguez sighs) Action!
MAN 1: Quiet, please!
MARCO: Good, good.
Everybody, keep it gloomy.
MARCO: Fancy couple passes.
And enter the butler.
Okay, Joe... DOMINGUEZ: Hmm?
Take a hit of the salsa.
Oh. Yeah. Uh.
Mmm.
Ay ay ay ay!
(Spanish music starts playing) Arriba!
Cue the llama! Cue the señoritas!
♪ ♪
Party, party, party! All right!
Everybody having a good time!
Taking hits on the salsa.
♪ ♪
More chickens.
BRIDGES: Hold it!
Hold it!
What the hell is going on here?
Hey!
Hey, Nashman!
Hey, uh, it's not really what it looks like.
Uh, it's, uh...
Hey, you told me
a few people in black tie.
You said nothing about mariachis and chickens!
I didn't mention chickens?
MAN 1: Still rolling. BRIDGES: No. No. You didn't
mention anything about chickens.
Oh, well, um,
Marco's vision just kept growing, you know.
And, uh... Marc-Marco's gonna lose his vision
if he doesn't get that camera out of my face!
(llama groaning) Now...
What does a llama have to do with salsa?
MARCO: It's a metaphor.
Yeah.
You wouldn't understand.
I wouldn't understand?
Well, why don't you explain it to me?
Oh, no, no, wait, no!
Don't explain it to me, 'cause I don't want to know.
Now... Look, now-now's not good.
Just come over here... No, no!
And try the salsa, okay? I...
Just-just try the salsa. Come on.
Joe... It'll make everything worth it.
Try-try it. Okay.
I try the salsa, everybody leaves, right?
Yeah. Sure. Perfect.
Let's have that salsa here.
MAN 1: Rolling.
Mmm.
Mmm. Not bad.
You like it? Really good. Everybody goes, right?
(cheering, music playing) Oh, please, yeah.
Bye.
Who is it?
It's me, darling.
Darling who?
(sarcastic laugh)
I hope you didn't screw up my order this time, Harve.
Lunchtime!
Hey, did you get the Cajun fries?
LEEK: Mm-hmm.
You did? Great!
Let's go. Lunchtime.
Get my chicken? Relax, you two.
I double-checked everything.
Come on, Harve, hurry up. Lifestyles is on. Excellent.
Let's be civilized for a change, okay?
Food over to Robin Leach.
And I'll look for plates and actual silverware.
(grunts)
Tamara.
Enjoying your stay?
Harvey, how long you been a cop?
Ooh, about 18 years.
You pondering a career change?
Hardly.
Look, I don't have time to screw around, so I won't.
I need to run out this afternoon for a little errand.
You let me split for an hour,
I promise I'll come back.
Why would I do that?
Because I'll give you a little brown paper bag
filled with a little mad money.
Hmm.
One hour, a hundred grand.
It's a smart move, Harve.
Can you keep a secret?
Mm-hmm.
I'm not that smart.
"A" for effort, though, baby.
All right. Call Nash.
Tell him I'm ready to talk.
TAMARA: Is this overkill?
I would've bet the farm you would've said that, sister.
Look, Milosz isn't walking around with the plutonium.
I'm just supposed to rendezvous here with him.
That's all.
You know he doesn't mean anything to me.
Does anybody? You did.
Front door, back door, side fire door.
No other way in or out.
Michelle, take the side.
Evan, Harve, take the back.
Joe and I got the front.
CORTEZ: Got it. CHAN: Got it.
All right, sister. I want you to go in there
and tell Milosz that the is buy set up
for the Fairmont Hotel at 11:00 tonight.
Can you do that? That's all I was planning to do.
You're on a short leash here, sister.
Ha, just the way I like it.
So, are we gonna wait out here?
For about ten seconds.
Come on, Joe, let's go.
♪ ♪
There she is by the bar.
DOMINGUEZ: So, uh...
which one's Milosz?
Well, it ain't the bartender.
Which means she hasn't told us the whole story.
Something new and different.
Surprise, surprise.
That's not Milosz either, is it?
No.
We've got a whole lot of new players here.
Oh, man.
That's the plutonium.
Come on, let's go.
Tamara! Tamara!
Get down!
BRIDGES: Police!
Everybody down!
(groaning)
Down!
Get down, get down, get down!
She's gone.
You got him?
Yeah.
Hi.
You're from out of town and lost, aren't you?
Yeah. Maybe you could help me...
(tires squealing)
Oh...
this is not good.
Something about Leopards and spots, bubba.
Want to check the citizen?
Yeah, I got him.
DOMINGUEZ: You ever notice how much body language can tell you?
I wouldn't say that she's a happy camper.
Hey, babe, you heard of Swedish massage?
Hello.
You lost her.
Explain how that happens at a simple meeting.
There was no meeting.
The whole thing was a bluff, sister.
We got a Pakistani we pulled out of the shootout back there,
who told us that Milosz has been dead for three weeks.
Presumably shot by Tamara Van Zant.
And you believe this Pakistani?
Well, I guess I do,
since he and the other Pakistanis were partners
with Milosz in the plutonium smuggling.
They all got jacked by Ms. Van Zant.
It's a big club.
They chased her
8,000 miles
for ripping 'em off.
They knew all about the meet at the bar.
They were just waiting for her to show up.
For a little payback.
Well, but who was the guy with the plutonium here?
The ship captain.
Tamara arranged her own delivery
via a Czech Republic freighter
that pulled into San Francisco yesterday.
So she was using us.
No rust on you.
Okay, so what do you need from me?
Rescind the immunity deal,
and I'll get your plutonium back.
How are you gonna do that?
Ah-ah-ah, that's my business.
Well, seeing as right now I have nothing, what do I have to lose?
Exactly.
You get to keep the world safe,
and I get Tamara Van Zant.
Well, if that's the way it goes down,
you've got yourself a deal.
What do we do, boss?
Woman like Tamara Van Zant doesn't need atomic energy.
She needs cold, hard cash.
And we know the guy that can make that happen for her.
Karl Wamsler.
Precisely. Hmm.
Take the van, and set up on him.
Our pleasure.
CORTEZ: On it.
Looks good.
Dr. Fong, my man.
Mr. Jalapeño.
(speaking foreign language)
Whoa, wait a minute.
Hmm? What's wrong with this picture?
It's on upside down. See?
It goes the other way. See?
My face. The other way. I'm sorry.
No visitors allowed in the factory.
Joe!
Oh, hey. No, it's okay, Dr. Fong.
This is my familia from Mexico City.
Yeah. Uh, this is, uh, Ernesto,
uh, Raul, Olivia, my cousins.
My Tia Lucia.
Ay, Tia!
You look beautiful!
What are... what are you guys doing here?
Oh, you remember Eladio, don't you, Tio Joe?
Little Eladio?
You were that tall last time I saw you, man.
You're all grown up. How you doing?
Uncle Joe.
You are hereby served
with a temporary restraining order
issued by the Superior Court of San Francisco
demanding the immediate termination of any and all
processes involved in the production,
shipping and marketing of "Loco Joe's
Family Style Salsa."
Ernesto, what is he saying?
Eladiodito, he's an attorney now.
La familia's attorney.
(Fong speaking foreign language)
Joe. Your hair.
You're a little thin on top, huh?
Que chupacabres.
It's the damn Addams family.
(sighs)
Unbelievable.
You know, I used to send Eladio money to go to school?
Always said he wanted to be a dentist.
Punk.
They're all claiming ownership of the salsa.
Man, I should've never called Aunt Lucia,
asked for how much cayenne pepper to put in.
That's it. I'm changing the baby's name.
Oh, this one's great.
Ernesto's brother said
he came up with the idea to chop the tomatoes.
Give me a break!
I mean, what salsa has whole tomatoes in it?
I mean, you couldn't even get 'em out of the jar!
Uh, let's face it.
There's no way they have a case.
Yeah. I mean, this-this recipe goes back for generations, man!
There's no single Dominguez
that owns it, man.
I'm the one that came up with the idea to market it.
I'm the one that's putting in all the work!
Well, then, stand up for yourself.
Get your own lawyer. Right there.
Well, you know, that's what I'm gonna do.
I'm putting my foot down. I'm getting a lawyer, man.
Yeah. Show 'em who's boss.
That's right.
Hey, man, nobody walks on Loco Joe.
Well, no one but Inger.
LEEK: Whoa!
Easy there, Michelle.
Those are delicate instruments.
I was only panning.
Camera controls are my department.
I am in charge of technical.
Oh, okay. Well, you might want
to pan right just a little bit,
because there's a pole blocking the view.
Wait. Are you saying I parked in a bad space?
Because I'm in charge of parking, you know.
No. It's a great parking job.
Superb job.
You see, there's a certain way
that we do things on stakeout, Michelle.
Which is simply the result
of a couple of thousand man-hours of experience.
It takes a certain amount of savvy, Michelle, if you will,
to know exactly where to aim the camera,
how much zoom to apply for proper surveillance, huh?
See, it's the same thing with parking.
Selection of site, angle of attack.
Right. CORTEZ: Yeah, it's...
It's about a learning experience.
You'll get it. Don't worry.
Okay. Hey, check it out.
There he goes.
And there's Karl Wamsler's red Cadillac.
Ev, you drive.
(mechanical whirring and creaking)
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
What's going on?
Aah!
We're being towed!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Hey, man! There he goes.
What are you doing?!
(phone ringing) Nash.
CORTEZ: Yeah, Nash, we got a problem.
What?
Well, it looks like we lost Karl Wamsler.
You have got to be kidding me!
Yo, Nashman, you see what I see?
BRIDGES: I see it, but I don't believe it.
Come on
back.
Tamara Van Zant, turning herself in.
What next... gravity fails?
It's got to happen.
You got five minutes.
It used to take you a lot longer than that, Nash.
That just cost you a minute, sister.
What do you want?
You finally have me where you want me, don't you?
I don't know where you belong.
Nash.
Don't.
No games, Nash.
Is that possible with you?
If the plutonium were recovered,
if I were free to go...
where do we stand?
Any chance?
Tamara, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.
But you know, the cruel thing about life?
Has this way of twisting what was meant to be
into what is.
And you and I are about as far apart as we can get.
I've changed.
No, you haven't.
(throat clearing)
Nash?
Customs is here.
What about the plutonium, Tamara?
It's safe. Don't worry.
I think what Agent Reynolds meant to say was,
"Where is it?"
Let's talk about my deal first.
REYNOLDS: My offer
still stands.
You bring me the plutonium,
and I'll see that your warrants are dismissed.
Not good enough.
Told you.
She wants a villa in St. Tropez
and an interview with Robin Leach.
No, actually, it's simpler than that.
What?
I want immunity on this case, too.
Protection from any and all charges
connected to the plutonium.
I want to walk away from this a free
woman, that's all.
You want the plutonium, those are the terms.
I'll have to make a call.
Gonna stop her?
It's Agent Reynolds...
Wouldn't do any good.
REYNOLDS: She wants a deal...
Don't be so disappointed, Nash.
I mean, there's nothing wrong
with almost everybody getting what they want.
REYNOLDS: and we get the plutonium.
Got it.
Thanks.
You got your deal.
Now, take us to the plutonium.
My pleasure.
Toodle-oo, Nash.
Uh-huh.
Well, good for you.
Yeah.
Okay. Bye.
That was Reynolds.
They recovered the plutonium.
They're processing Tamara's paperwork.
An hour from now, she'll be on the street, free and clear.
Yeah, well, dude, it's over, so put it out of your mind.
I can't.
Pretend to put it out of your mind, then.
I can't make any sense of it.
Hey, man, it's love.
There is no sense to it.
No. I mean,
why did she decide to turn over the plutonium now?
She had two options, man.
She could split with the stuff and be a fugitive
until we caught her,
or she could, uh, turn it in and be free, you know?
I mean, uh, she tried life on the run,
so obviously, freedom sounded better.
But if she was gonna turn it in,
why would she ditch us at the bar?
I mean, why the big game of hide-and-seek?
So much for putting it out of your mind.
She could have turned over that plutonium
to Reynolds in the beginning.
She could have come to me in the beginning.
So, she, uh...
Took her a little while
to figure out what her best option was.
I mean, whatever you said to her,
apparently, it had its effect.
Unless...
she figured out a third option.
CORTEZ: Nash,
I found a cell phone that Tamara rented
from a cellular shop right down the street from her hotel.
Excellent work.
Thank you very much.
Joe, look at this.
Two, three...
four, five...
eight calls to the G.B. Bar.
Mm. She was friendly with the bartender.
Exactly.
He's the one that pointed out the ship captain, huh?
Mm-hmm. Harve?
I'm gonna need to know how much
plutonium the Feds recovered.
Calling now.
Look at this.
LEEK: Janet Reynolds, please.
Janet?
Harvey Leek at the SIU.
What was the total take on the plutonium
that you recovered from Tamara Van Zant?
Thanks a lot.
Three point eight kilos.
(groans)
Wake up, party boy.
That plutonium that was sent over on the ship...
How much did Tamara Van Zant have?
Almost eight kilograms.
Thank you.
That means she's still got four point two kilos.
(clears throat)
What's that worth, a couple mil?
So she gets away with her freedom and her money?
Well, she ain't gone, so we're still in the game.
Hi, Scottie.
Got my package, and, uh, maybe some Cristal?
You got a bottle or two back there, don't you?
Nash.
Tamara Van Zant.
What a coincidence.
Buy you a drink?
No, thanks.
You know, you always surprise me.
Girl's got to keep a guy guessing.
Well, you won't be needing this any more.
I'll just take it back to Agent Reynolds
with your best wishes.
Nash.
Don't worry.
We'll see each other again.
You can't help yourself.
You know what?
Neither can I.
(sighs)
(loud shouting on TV)
Thank you, Susan.
ELADIO: What we're talking about
is a base participation of four percent
for each family member,
with a one percent per annum increase,
nine percent cap.
Um, agreed, provided each
family member assume a three and a half percent liability
against start-up, and Joe here
retains sole rights
to the ancillary markets, including
the movie
and book rights to the Loco Joe's Salsa story.
On that basis, I'm prepared to call it a deal.
We're satisfied.
Closed.
(whistling, shouting and man speaking Spanish on TV)
(Dominguez sighs)
Well, Harve, how did we come out?
Okay, baby, with all the various shares and disbursements,
employee stocks and profit participation,
you now own a grand total of...
one percent of your company?
Uno percento?
Ouch-o.
Oh!
Why,
Nashman, why?
Well, Loco,
I guess some things just weren't meant to be.
MICHELLE: Shh! Everybody quiet down! This is it!
This is Joe's commercial!
MAN (on TV): Loco Joe's Family Style Salsa!
There was nothing wrong with this plan.
I had everything thought out. It was...
Ah, I know, I know.
Come on, we'll watch your commercial,
we'll eat some chips, salsa, it'll be great. Come on.
(piano plays dramatic music as narrator speaks Spanish)
MAN: ¡Ay! ¡Ay! ¡Ay! ¡Ay! ¡Ay!
¡Arriba!
NARRATOR: Loco Joe's Family Style Salsa!
(narrator speaking Spanish)
NARRATOR: Loco Joe!
Está muy fantástico!
Bye!
(laughter)
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