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The Italian Job Donna Powers LYLE: I've got the orbital data and SV clock corrections for each satellite that gets the signal. That'll make my reading as solid as the Precise Positioning Service that only the D.O.D. can use. We're talkin' 100 meter horizontal accuracy, 156 meter vertical accuracy, .340 nanoseconds time accuracy. STEVE: Why can't he talk like a person? CHARLIE: Because he's not. LYLE: I do need one more thing, Charlie. CHARLIE: What's that? LYLE: Someone to turn the goddamn homing device on. No signal, no score. HANDSOME ROB: What's that shit? HALF-EAR: A book. It's called reading. You should try it some time. HANDSOME ROB: You wanna read something. Read between the lines. STEVE: Don't worry, they'll come through. You can trust these guys. JOHN BRIDGER: I trust everyone. It's the devil inside them that I don't trust. JOHN BRIDGER: How you feeling, boss? CHARLIE: Fine. I'm fine, fine. JOHN BRIDGER: You know what 'fine' stands for, don't you? Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. CHARLIE: You've become quite the philosopher since you quit drinking. JOHN BRIDGER: You don't like me sober? CHARLIE: No, I'm glad. Makes you a better thief. JOHN BRIDGER: "That for which all virtue is sold. And almost every vice - gold." JOHN BRIDGER: You planned this one down to a t, kid. It's a gift. You saw the big picture, made contingencies, covered the angles. Shit, you made thirty million dollars in gold drop out of sight without holding a gun. Who else could've pulled that off? CHARLIE: You could've. I had big shoes to fill. JOHN BRIDGER: Fill the shoes but don't follow the footprints. CHARLIE: If you would have told me that I would spend the next three years searching for Steve Bandell, I would have said that was nothing. Cause I would have spent a lifetime looking for that bastard if I had to. FIRST COP: You always work in the dark? STELLA: Buzz of the fluorescents throws me off. She's all yours. SECOND COP: Damn. Chris Perley couldn't crack it. Neither could Michael Hoyt. STELLA: Now you know who to call first. FIRST COP: You're expensive, Stella. Those guys cut us a break on subpoena jobs. Goodwill, community service. . . STELLA: Well I do it for the money. I'll send you the bill. SECOND COP: Don't you want to see what's inside? STELLA: I never look. STELLA: Charlie Croker. CHARLIE: Hi, Stella. STELLA: Refresh my memory. After you came to see me and told me what happened to my father, I told you I never wanted to see you again, didn't I? RICHARD: It's all in my patented sideways glance. Like this... I hit each woman on the jury with one of these. We make contact. And I know exactly what they're doing. Undressing me with their eyes. STELLA: I see... RICHARD: The case is all but won. That's why in jury selection I choose as many women as possible. Except lesbians, of course. I can tell in sixty seconds if they're a lesbian. Want to know how I know? STELLA:If they don't undress you with their eyes? RICHARD: Precisely. Like that waitress right there. See? She's looking at me right below my belt. Definitely not a lesbian. STELLA: Your fly. CHARLIE: Anyway, I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better before we leave for Los Angeles. I already booked your flight. STELLA: You truly are a fatuous, odious man. CHARLIE: I have no idea what you just said, but I like the sound of it. RICHARD: Everything alright, Stella? STELLA: Fine. Richard. Charlie. Charlie was just saying goodbye. RICHARD: Can I help you with something? CHARLIE: Oh, sorry. I was just undressing you with my eyes. CHARLIE: I see Drive Defensively is your motto. STELLA: Don't worry. Jack Daniels never let me down. CHARLIE: By the way you drive, I'm not surprised you named your car after a bottle of whiskey. Left. STELLA: Jack Daniels was chief engineer of the Mini. And I drive it exactly the way it was meant to be driven. CHARLIE: That's Lyle. Gearhead. He's who really invented Napster... At least that's how Lyle tells it. CHARLIE: Handsome Rob. Premier wheel man. He once drove all the way to L.A. just so he could set the record for longest freeway chase. Smashed the mark by twelve minutes. He got a hundred and ten love letters sent to his jail cell from women who saw him on TV. STELLA: And what about you? CHARLIE: I've been a thief since I had baby teeth. LYLE: You still haven't told us the most important thing. What exactly is the job, Charlie? And who exactly is she? CHARLIE: This is Stella Bridger. And we're finishing the job that we started in Italy. HALF-EAR: Holy shit. It's about time. CHARLIE: Stella. How much time will you need with the safe? STELLA: I'll have it open in five minutes flat. HANDSOME ROB: It's not the same as opening a safe for the cops. Your heart will be pounding in your ears. Perspiration on your fingertips. It's a whole different ball game. STELLA: You get me to the safe, I'll open it. YEVHEN: Governments are nothing more than puppets on the strings of the Trilateral Commission with their twisted gods. I mean, it's so obvious that in a world where NAFTA can overturn the Supreme Court, not to mention Microsoft's nefarious financial machinations, this, is our only refuge - gold. HANDSOME ROB: Doesn't matter what time it is. It's either bad traffic, peak traffic, or slityourwrists traffic. HALF-EAR: You gotta ride the Metro-Rail, man. HANDSOME ROB: I'm sure it's ideal for carrying a ton of gold, genius. CHARLIE: What's your guesstimate? HANDSOME ROB: If we had all green lights, fourteen minutes. But in the twenty times I've done it, the average is thirty-two minutes, with a top time of fifty minutes. CHARLIE: Then we'll travel like Rockefeller. When cars first started catching on, workers on tall ladders would use these swiveling colored boards for traffic signals. Now whenever Rockefeller would take the drive from his mansion to his office on Wall Street, the workers would make sure that he got green boards all the way. HANDSOME ROB: How do we get all green lights? CHARLIE: Lyle? LYLE: Let me see what I can do. HALF-EAR: Did you know that the first traffic signal to be patented was invented by a black man named Garrett Morgan? You're not the only one who watches the History Channel. CHARLIE: We'll never get by the guard unless they're certain it's legit. I'm thinking cable TV. We cut his cable, he calls the cable company. We show up. Send a cable technician into the house with a pinhole video camera while we get a feed.through an RF antenna. HANDSOME ROB: Who plays cable technician? Steve thinks we're all dead. STELLA: If you're all dead, I guess I'm the man for the job. CHARLIE: Are you up for it? STELLA: In for a penny, in for a pound. LYLE: I'm telling you. He claims he named it Napster because his hair is so nappy underneath that cap of his. But I know the real reason. It's because I was NAPPING when he stole the idea from me. I should've been on the cover of Wired magazine. HANDSOME ROB: Would you clam up. You'd give a woodpecker a headache. LYLE: I'm the Napster. HANDSOME ROB: Okay. You're the Napster. LYLE: Becky. Nice name. I wonder what she calls the other one. CHARLIE: How you doing? STELLA: Fine. I'm fine. CHARLIE: You know what .fine, stands for? Fucked up, Insecure - STELLA & CHARLIE: Neurotic and Emotional. CHARLIE: I know it was tough in there. STELLA: He touched my hand. And he came on to me. That slimy, disgusting man came onto me and I had to pretend that I liked it. You do know what this means... I've created our window of opportunity. CHARLIE: I know. When Steve leaves Friday night, we go in. By the time he realizes you've stood him up, we'll be long gone with the gold. HALF-EAR: Skinny Pete. HANDSOME ROB: The guy makes Jabba the Hut look like a spokesman for the Subway Sandwiches' diet. HALF-EAR: What do you think? HANDSOME ROB: I'm trying not to. CHARLIE: Lyle, what's the distance from the front door to the vault? Lyle? HANDSOME ROB: He only answers to The Napster now. CHARLIE: I'm not calling you The Napster.- LYLE: You call him Half-Ear. HALF-EAR: That wasn't my idea. LYLE: And him, Handsome Rob. CHARLIE: That's only cause he is Handsome Rob. LYLE: And I'm The Napster. CHARLIE: How far? The Napster. LYLE: Five hundred yards. STELLA: Jack Daniels, straight up. CHARLIE: Minis? STELLA: We could rumble right up the front steps, bring the getaway car right to the vault, and then straight to Union Station. HANDSOME ROB: We'll need three to hold the gold. STEVE: Yevhen. Didn't I tell you, many times, that I never wanted to meet with anyone but you? YEVHEN: I know. But it's his cash. He uses me to launder money. I'm just a middleman. STEVE: And a middleman is supposed to stay in the middle. CHARLIE: How are our matchbox cars? HANDSOME ROB: Souped. STELLA: Don't let their size fool you. These were rally cars back in the day. 135 mph, 155 horsepower — LYLE: Do I get to drive one? HANDSOME ROB: He. LYLE: Why not? HANDSOME ROB: Because you can't navigate your way out of a parking lot. Here's your ride. LYLE: But he ran into me. HANDSOME ROB: He's not driving either. You ever got a speeding ticket? STELLA: Let's put it this way: I can only get insurance through companies that advertise on TV at 3:00 in the morning. HANDSOME ROB: You drive. I drive. Charlie drives. LYLE: The Traffic Control Center is on the top floor of a building on Olympic and Grand. They get their data from pavement loop detectors and video image vehicle detectors. That info is fused together by specially designed algorithms to predict traffic conditions and control the traffic lights. So all I have to do now is change the data by creating my own algorithm. LYLE: B4 X TTratio, where Bi are Fisher's linear discriminant function coefficients, SpdRat is the speed ratio, and TTratio is the travel time ratio. CHARLIE: I have no idea what you're doing. Just do it fast. STELLA: You want the safe cracked, don't you? CHARLIE: Yeah. STELLA: Then I have to have perfect nails. Square tips have a more even surface area. Better grip, no slipping. CHARLIE: Are you making this shit up? STELLA: I just let you in on a valuable trade secret. STEVE: You've just blown the one thing you had going in your favor, the element of surprise. And I was surprised. Jesus Christ when I saw all you guys come out of the woodwork. For a minute I thought maybe you were ghosts. But you're screwed now. Did you figure out how to take care of my security guard? I'll hire five more. You know how to bypass my alarm system? I'll have a new one installed tomorrow. Does it tear you up inside seeing what car I drive? I'll buy a matching one in red. You think you can crack ray safe? You'll end up the same way as your dad. Looks like Good Time Charlie's got the blues. CHARLIE: You can wear that shit-eating grin on your face, but I know under that Versace shirt you're in a cold sweat. And you're not going to sleep a minute tonight. Cause you thought you'd gotten away with it free and clear. You thought you'd gotten rid of us. You're the one who's screwed. Right to the wall. STEVE: Give it your best shot. I'll outsmart you every step of the way. And this time, I'll bury you myself. CHARLIE: Get more guards. Change the alarm. Buy a dozen Ferraris. We'll still be here. Sleep tight. MASHKOV: Do you know who I am? SKINNY PETE: You work for Danya. MASHKOV: Yes. And you are gonna be straight with me and everything's gonna be okay. You fuck with me, I will be ruthless. SKINNY PETE: I understand. MASHKOV: I don't want you to understand. I want you to overstand. SKINNY PETE: Overstand... Okay. LYLE: Well we scared him alright. He's flying the coop. His security guard called Brink's Armored Car Service to confirm a 5 p.m. pick up at his house, then JetClub to confirm a MD11 Cargo plane departing from the Imperial Terminal at LAX at 8 p.m. CHARLIE: Confirmed? How'd we miss the first calls? LYLE: They must have been cellular. The cargo plane is being chartered to Mexico City. HANDSOME ROB: Only place with worse smog and traffic than L.A. STELLA: Once the charter's in the air, he could change the flight path to anywhere. And good-bye gold. CHARLIE: Not so fast. This is good news for us. HANDSOME ROB: Good news? CHARLIE: Sometimes when you're up to your ass in alligators you forget that you started off trying to drain the swamp. HANDSOME ROB: Meaning what the fuck? CHARLIE: We've been trying to get to the gold in the safe. Now the safe is corning to us. We'll boost it in transit. HANDSOME ROB: Charlie. He could take a dozen different routes to the airport and we have no idea which one. We can't take out an armored truck during rush hour. CHARLIE: We're already set to do it. Napster: how would you like to create the biggest traffic jam in the history of Los Angeles? LYLE: Keep talking. CHARLIE: You gridlock every route except the one we choose. Force the truck to go exactly.where we want it to go. HANDSOME ROB: But where do we want it? We can't shoot it out with armed guards in a Brink's. We'd lose. And even if we pulled it off, the cops would be all over us, chasing us all the way to Union Station. We're outmanned and outgunned. CHARLIE: But not outsmarted. We'll do it like the Italian job. We'll make thirty million in gold drop out of sight. CHARLIE: Maybe there's a way we can play this to our advantage. PHILLY STEAK: Are you out of your mind? Listen to me, Charlie. Get out of L.A. Now. Cause if there's one thing I know, it's that you never mess with Mother Nature, mother-inlaws, or mother-fucking Ukrainians. HALF-EAR: Did you know Einstein's 7th grade teacher told him he was a moron who'd never amount to anything? Same as mine. CHARLIE: Still hope for that Nobel Prize. HALF-EAR: Not me, man. But I did get my college diploma. CHARLIE: No shit. I thought you dropped out of high school. CHARLIE: You okay? HALF-EAR: Ah huh. Just need a moment' s meditation. CHARLIE: Now? HALF-EAR: I'm about to insert a wire into a detonator tube and if the wire touches the sides of tube, we'll be blown to Kingdom Come. Best to be at one with yourself. CHARLIE: Take all the time you need. HANDSOME ROB: Problemo. CHARLIE: What is it? . HANDSOME ROB: He's brought in three identical armored trucks. CHARLIE: Shit. Decoys. It's like a shell game on wheels. LYLE: How can I reroute the truck if I don't know which truck to reroute? HANDSOME ROB: Three Brink's trucks are leaving with motorcycle escorts, plus Steve in his Ferrari. LYLE: How're we going to figure out which truck has the gold? CHARLIE: You can monitor the traffic video cameras from your laptop, right? LYLE: Yeah. CHARLIE: Where's the first camera the trucks will go past? LYLE: Cahuenga Boulevard. They all have to cross that. CHARLIE: The weight of the gold will lower the suspension on the truck. CHARLIE: Nice work. HALF-EAR: Well like Einstein almost said: genius is ten percent inspiration, ninety percent detonation. CHARLIE: Don't you want to see what's inside? STELLA: I never look. CHARLIE: Trust me. You wanna look. STEVE: Please. Don't shoot me. Please... MASHKOV: Don't worry. That wasn't the deal. I'm not going to shoot you. STEVE: Thank you. Thank God. MASHKOV: He really thought I was going to shoot him. No. No. I'm not going to shoot you. I'm going to hack off your limbs and bury you while you're still alive. CHARLIE: New IDs. LYLE: Simon Quackenbush? Could I - just once - have a cool name? CHARLIE: There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Stella. But I've just been so busy lately, what with the explosion, car chase, Ukrainians and all. STELLA: It has been a hectic day. CHARLIE: It's about that thing you said to me back in Philadelphia. STELLA: That thing? CHARLIE: You said that you can"t have a relationship with a pickpocket, gold robber, or any kind of thief. STELLA: Oh... That thing. CHARLIE: Do you still believe that? STELLA: Yeah. I do. CHARLIE: Well I was wondering... What about a retired pickpocket, gold robber, thief? STELLA: Now that's an entirely different .question.

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