[honking]
[screeching tires]
- [moaning]
- Harder.
- [moaning]
- Hit her harder, please.
I decide how much pain
she gets.
And I decide how much
money you get.
Put those away.
Now.
- [honking]
- [screeching tires]
[grunting and growling]
[growling and barking]
[barking]
[growling]
[dialing]
Frank, I figured you'd call.
Do you know who
W.C. Fields was?
- The guy who married May West?
- No.
He was a guy who refused
to work with kids and animals.
- I'm a fan.
- Don't tell me
you opened the package.
- I thought about it.
- That cute little dog!
- So you knew
about this all along?
- Lighten up, Frank.
- It's easy money.
- There's no such thing
as easy money.
[grunting]
[growling]
- [growling]
- Hi, baby!
Come here, baby!
Mommy missed you!
Did you miss mommy,
my little baby?
Hum? Ah! He wants
to say goodbye!
- Say bye bye!
- [growling]
- Woof.
- [growling]
- Give it to me.
- This is my place.
We play by my rules.
- Look, if she wasn't here--
- What?
What would you do?
- Give it to me.
- Leave this to a professional.
Uh, could one of you
hit me please?
- [whipping sound]
- Yes!
- [whipping sound]
- Oh! Oh!
- [whipping sound]
- Yes! Oh!
Grandfather.
Have you heard
anything yet?
They're moving it today.
It's not just
for me, you know.
I know, grandfather.
It's for all of us.
All of us.
Yes.
[Beep! Beep!]
[sigh]
Ah! Striking,
isn't it?
What would you say
if I told you
I could sell that painting
tomorrow
for half a million Euros?
I'd say you'd have
to steal it first.
Speaking hypothetically,
of course.
- Of course.
- Name's Tracy.
This is Mr. Voros.
Let's get this over with. The
sooner he makes the delivery,
the sooner
I get my money.
Now, you be careful
with that,
because you have no idea
how much it's worth.
[Beep! Beep!]
- Take it easy.
- The package
in your trunk,
give it to me.
I can't do that.
- Give it to me! Now!
- Why?
- Because it belongs to me!
- Put the gun down.
I'm just a driver,
delivering a package--
Which was stolen from me.
Why should
I believe you?
Because I'm the one
holding the gun.
Do you have any idea
what you've got in that car?
- It's none of my business.
- Following orders?
Sticking to the deal,
actually.
Give it to me.
[police siren]
You should be careful
with those things.
They can be dangerous.
You're the driver?
Not what I expected.
Likewise.
Where's the package?
Follow me.
- So when's
that auction, Professor?
- Three months. Paris.
- The driver has arrived,
Mr. Khyber.
- Oh, perfect.
I've been waiting
a long time for this.
Finally.
Incredible.
Well, if our business
is done...
Wait a second.
This is something
I've been pursuing
for quite some time now.
I need to have my associate here
inspect it, just to make sure
it wasn't damaged in transport.
Professor?
Yes, yes...
Exquisite use of light...
It's magnificent.
- Yes, it is.
- Wait...
No...
What is it?
Well, it may be a masterpiece
in its own right,
but it's not the painting
you bought. It's a forgery.
That's impossible.
Maybe.
But I doubt I'm wrong.
- Fuck!
- [shattering glass]
This is extremely
disappointing.
I just deliver the package.
I'm not responsible
for what's inside.
I made a down payment
of a million dollars
for this painting.
I'm sure you won't mind
the hospitality
of my estate
while I look into this.
A real animal lover,
your boss.
Bad news.
The professor's confirmed
the painting is a fake.
Well, like I said,
- it's got nothing
to do with me.
- The man who hired you
to make the delivery says
he gave you the real painting.
Of course he did.
What else is he going to say?
So, someone
is lying, then.
We just have to
find out who.
Since you happen to be here
right now, you go first.
Are you left-handed,
or right-handed?
I only ask because
it usually saves time,
and a hell of a lot of mess,
to go straight for the fingers
of the dominant hand.
Second time today
I've had a gun pulled on me.
I need to speak
to Mr. Akamatsu.
Yes, I know what time it is
in Tokyo. It's urgent.
I can assure you,
I'll get to the bottom of this.
[screeching tires]
Yes, I am aware
of the consequences.
[muffled screams]
I don't expect any of you idiots
to know anything about art,
so I'm going to try to explain
this really carefully.
That painting was part of a set.
The same scene done four times,
each representing
one of the four seasons,
winter, spring,
summer and fall.
I own three of them.
Individually they're each worth
about twenty million.
As a set, they're worth
five times that much.
I already have a buyer.
He will be very disappointed
if I don't deliver.
- Now, what happened?
- Dumbfuck here
let the driver
take his gun.
I could beat you to death
with this poker...
but that would make a mess
on the carpet.
[scream]
[thud]
Start with that driver.
Find out what he knows.
And then kill him.
- [ring]
- Frank.
- I'm here.
- Ah, the rider's coming home.
Come in.
Why do I do this work,
you ask yourself, Frank?
Because it's simple.
Pick something up at point A,
take it to point B.
End of story.
- Nothing complicated.
- You are a man
who likes routine, Frank.
Exactly.
So why does it turn to shit?
You need to stick
by your rules.
Is the car ready?
Yeah, system check is complete
in maybe sixty seconds.
[car starts]
What can I do for you?
- The painting was a forgery.
- You opened the package?
Long story.
I need you to find out
about that gallery owner.
- Tracy?
- And I need you
to run a motorcycle plate.
- All right. Anything else?
- Yeah.
Find me a nice simple
delivery for a change.
Do you ever think
about switching jobs?
Only three
or four times a day.
Just imagine how bored
you would get, Frank.
Thanks, Carla.
What the hell
are you doing here?
I've come to talk
about the painting.
So, you will come
twice a week,
you will pay in cash,
and you will
never complain.
No matter
what happens.
I don't want
anything too rough.
I'll decide about that.
And no marks.
I don't want my wife
asking questions.
You're a naughty boy,
aren't we?
I'm just here to have
a little fun.
Nothing dangerous.
You can put those away.
You know what? You businessmen
are all the same.
Big men on the outside,
frightened little boys
on the inside.
[cell phone ringing]
- I have a job for you.
- I'm sorry,
Madame Cora
is not available.
Don't Madame Cora me,
it's work time.
She's with
a client right now.
I'll have her call
when she's done.
Cut the crap. You work for me.
Full time. I own you,
- so get over here.
- [phone beeps]
Where do you think
you're going?
I have business
to attend to.
Right now,
is playtime.
I'm just here...
...for a light whipping.
You know what?
Get out before
you get hurt.
- [coughing]
- I already told Khyber
I don't...
I don't know anything
about the painting.
Talk to the broker.
His name is Tracy.
If anyone knows anything
- about this...
- Oh, we're gonna talk to him,
don't worry about that.
But here's the thing,
Mr. Voros.
We need to find out
who has the real painting.
And we're finding it
very hard to believe
that you don't know
anything about it.
I want you to think long...
and hard...
I don't know.
You know what you need?
A little more incentive.
So tell me...
are you left-handed
or right-handed?
No...
No... No...
[scream]
You shouldn't break
into people's houses.
And you shouldn't chase cars
on a motorcycle.
I know a few people
who can ride like that.
You're not exactly
that type.
Oh yeah?
What type am I?
A nice Jewish girl,
from an American suburb.
The pictures,
the one with you
and the older gentleman
in a suit?
My grandfather.
The Pissarro?
It was fake.
My buyer's expert barely
looked at it, he had no doubt.
When you see the real thing,
you know right away.
There's an essence
that no forger ever captures.
But you thought
I had the real one.
I heard that
the original was in Berlin,
Anton Khyber wants it,
and Charles Tracy
offered it to him.
I'm sorry
about the frying pan,
I just want what's mine.
And what makes you
more deserving
than anyone else?
Family photos?
This was
my great-great-grandmother.
See that?
- What am I looking at?
- On the wall behind her.
The Pissarro.
This was taken
at their house
- in Warsaw. Mid-1930s.
- So?
My great-grandmother again.
With her father.
See the guy
with the beard?
My grandfather's
great-grandfather.
Camille Pissarro?
The rest is birth
certificates,
- other stuff.
- So what happened?
Ober-Gruppenfuhrer
Paul Hausser.
It's bounced around
since the war.
And you just have to get
this old family painting back?
I made a promise
to someone.
Do you know where Voros stays
when he comes to Berlin?
- Why should I tell you?
- If you want to see
the painting again,
I'm your best chance. Let's say
I have a professional interest
in getting
to the bottom of this.
I think you have a target
on your back.
Odds are, so do you.
I figure you've been
investigating this
for some time. Poking around,
asking questions.
They're gonna find out.
Voros uses an apartment
in Dahlem.
It actually belongs to one
of his father's companies.
Let's go.
Ah, hang on.
I just want
to get my jacket.
Get your hands off me!
Let go of me!
[cell phone ringing]
- It's his phone!
- Hey, come on.
- Goren, it's Khyber.
- Where's my painting?
- Your painting?
- Hey, you listen to me,
- you son of a bitch.
- No, you listen to me!
That painting's mine. I don't
give a fuck where it came from.
I'm going to find it,
and if you get in my way
I'm going to fucking kill you.
Understand?
Like I said. We've both
got targets on our back.
[cell phone ringing]
Yes?
Now listen to me, you idiot.
Go find that girl.
If you don't find her, you'll
get a visit from Madam Cora.
Clear?
- Maybe you should wait here.
- Not a chance.
It's the guy
from the art gallery.
- That's not a good sign.
- Oh, God!
His fingers
are missing.
It means he stuck to his story,
right to the end.
He was telling the truth,
he had nothing to do with this.
- Are you going to be okay?
- Yeah.
Do you need a minute?
I'll look around.
[scream]
- I thought he was dead.
- I think I'll take that,
for just a little while.
We better
get out of here.
Now what?
We still have the forgery.
Why did you keep it?
It's not paint by numbers.
There are only so many
people around
capable of doing
something like that.
We find the forger,
he'll lead us
to the original.
I have a friend who knows
about these things.
His name's Ivon.
I'll give him a call.
Goren found the driver. He was
with the girl at her apartment.
And then
they lost them. Again.
You keep
disappointing me, Lara.
We've got a lead
on the broker, Tracey.
He owns a gallery
called The Culture Factory.
There's going to be some sort
of event there tonight.
I love a good art show.
- [phone ringing]
- Hello.
Hi, Ivon. I have a painting
I need authenticated.
Bring it to the gallery.
I'll take a look.
All right, we'll
see you soon. Thanks.
He's working
at an opening tonight.
We're going to meet him there.
How long have you been doing
this kind of work?
A while.
No wife? No family?
I like to keep things simple.
Sounds kind of lonely.
You didn't track
that painting to Voros
with a simple internet search.
I wish.
Three years of my life spent in
dusty archives all over Europe.
When I started this,
I told myself
it was for my grandfather.
Sometimes I wonder why
I don't just walk away.
Why don't you?
Maybe it's because
I've been doing it so long
I don't know
anything else.
- You know what I mean?
- I get the idea.
[hip hop music]
It's an installation.
It's called Porcelain Angel.
Naturally.
Not exactly your kind
of crowd, I'm guessing.
I'll see if I can find Ivon.
Try and stay out of trouble.
The composition achieves
a very powerful, dissonant
counterpoint, doesn't it?
Although I must admit,
usually I prefer the early
Russian school of abstraction.
When I was nine, I had my first
erection to a Kandinsky.
In that case,
I'll leave you to it.
- What's with her?
- Later. Come with me.
Frank, this is Ivon.
Come in back,
show me what you've got.
Go in. Get Tracy.
Bring him to the car.
We'll wait
behind the building.
You found it.
This is Pissarro.
It's called The Street
Beside the Lake in Winter.
- Is it?
- You think it's a fake?
That's what I was told.
I don't know...
This painting's been missing
for almost seventy years.
Assume for the sake
of argument, the artist
had the original to copy from.
Who could have done it?
Not many people.
This is
first class work.
If I had to venture
a guess, I'd say...
Markov. Anton Markov.
He's the best there is.
He's crazy as a loon,
but if anyone could pull
this off, it would be him.
How do we find him?
Ah, he's a recluse, but
I could ask around if you want.
The main event. Please.
[clatter]
- Who is that guy?
- Mr. Tracy, my boss.
Hey!
[screaming]
- Going somewhere?
- Let's go.
Come.
- Good call.
- Why don't you shut your face?
- Okay, okay.
- Get in there.
Watch the hair.
[jumbled voices]
Is that enough dissonant
counterpoint for you?
- They got Tracy.
- The police are on their way.
If you don't want them to find
you here you'd better get going.
You know
where your boss lives?
- He's staying with
his girlfriend.
- Give me the address.
[Tracy] Please...
you have to listen to me.
I didn't have anything
to do with this.
Mr. Voros said otherwise.
All I did for him was I just
advised him that if he wanted
to sell the painting,
I could get a good price
for it. And that Transporter
wasn't my idea. No, I could have
delivered the painting myself--
Shut up. I'll deal with
the Transporter later.
Right now there's only
one thing I need to know...
- where's the original?
- I don't know.
Very well, then.
Lara...
Are you left-handed, or right?
The girlfriend's home.
We can use that.
Hey, before we go in there...
I just want to say something.
Whatever happens in there,
I just...
- I want you to know that...
- What?
We'll continue this later.
- It won't work.
- What?
Your gun, which you
just slipped from my pocket.
I removed the clip.
Shit.
I'm going in there.
You're just gonna walk up
and knock on the door?
So how are we
going to do this?
- You've been attacked.
- What?
- [banging on door]
- Will you help me?
What the fuck?
- Somebody help me, please!
- [violent banging on door]
- Help me, please!
- [banging]
[crying]
You have to help me.
There's this guy and...
Thank you.
You can wait right here.
Mmmm, mmmm!
We've got to make this fast.
I'll check the basement.
- Where is it?
- It's in the basement.
Get it.
I prefer to fight
someone my own size.
Is this as good
for you as it is for me?
- Too much foreplay.
- Frank!
We've got to put out
that fire!
- Never mind about that.
Where's my painting?
- It's over there, but--
- Get it.
- Don't you move.
Shut up. Get the painting.
The second you hand it over
he'll kill you and us.
Shut up or I'll kill
this bitch right now.
- My painting!
- It's too late.
My painting.
- Get off of me!
- We've got to go.
Please. Please.
There's at least fifty million
dollars worth of art down here!
[coughing]
[woman screaming inside]
Shit.
Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Thank you.
Call the fire department.
You'll need a place
to stay tonight. Come on.
[coughing] Lara!
I can't move.
[coughing]
Lara!
Help me!
I can't breathe!
[coughing]
My legs!
Lara, help me!
[coughing]
[sirens]
- [answering machine] Bonjour.
Laissez-moi un message.
- Juliette DuBois.
This is the Transporter.
I have information for you
regarding the death
of Max Khyber.
Call me back.
And you owe me one.
I can't believe
the painting's gone.
I mean,
after all this time,
I really thought
I would get it back.
Hey, we got out alive.
Would it make a difference if
the painting wasn't destroyed?
What are you talking about?
I switched them.
Is it the real thing?
- It is.
- Can I look?
You know, last night,
I half-expected you to throw me
out of the car and keep
the painting for yourself.
You don't know me
very well.
Maybe that's something
we can work on.
I'm leaving town
tomorrow.
- Another job?
- Brussels.
I know a great
waffle place.
It is. It's authentic.
- Babe, wanna party?
- With you?
You up for it?
- You by yourself?
- Not if you get in with me.
You want to meet
my little friend?
Every one of those assholes
had it coming.
That waffle place
in Brussels...
Maybe
I'll see you there?
Maybe.
Thank you.
Grandfather.
[intake of breath]
You found it.
Uh-huh.
Now we are all home.
Thank you.