True Detective

¶

¶

Uhh...

What happened to your face?

Pool game the other night.

Called the wrong dude on cheating.

You got to watch that.

What do you want again?

I'm repping some people.

Yeah. They want to get to the good cook.

They'll trade you or the IC Brotherhood,

however you want to do it, coke for crystal.

Why am I not talking to Miles?

Oh, me and Ginger go way back,

boosted together.

You ain't saying much.

I figure I let my man give you the details.

Look. This shit I got,

you can step on it 5, 6 times.

It'll still kick.

Just means you got to cook a little more

for a lot more profit.

Nah.

I ain't go no use for it

or your money.

What, money don't spend?

I can see your soul at the edges of your eyes.

It's corrosive, like acid.

You got a demon, little man,

and I don't like your face.

It makes me want to do things to it.

Ginger, you call me again, I'm setting Miles on you.

I see you again,

I'm putting you down.

There's a shadow on you, son.

¶

Marty, you got him?

You fucking better, the shit I've been though.

I do. I got him.

We're on empty roads now.

So I got to drop back, or he'll spot the tail.

OK. That's Reggie Ledoux's

cook partner Dewall.

Birddog him, Marty.

You got it.

What's your location?

Just south of I-10 along the Creole Nature Trail

heading towards Carlyss.

Hurry up, man.

Copy that. On my way.

How we doing back there, Ginger?

Fuck you, motherfucker.

Aah! Yeah.

How'd you get onto Ledoux?

One of my old CI's tipped me off

to the location of his cook house.

So I came back on the job.

Didn't want anybody else to catch him, bring him in.

Look. You want my help?

Just show me the rest of the file.

Why are you so hot to see the new discovery file, man?

Well, why are y'all...

so hot to not give it to me?

It's supposed to be like a consultation, right?

Yeah, but you go first.

You take me through it,

and I'll let you see what we got.

I'll hold you to that.

Where's Ginger?

Wrapped up in a ditch. What you got?

Well, lost him and then had to double back

a few times till I found the exit.

That's his truck there.

We're gonna have to call this in, Rust.

Eh, we don't want to do that.

Troops will come, flood these woods.

They could scatter.

All right.

We ain't gonna find him from here.

You ever been hunting, Marty?

Uh, yeah...

10-point buck year before last,

50 yards.

I'm not talking about sitting in a treehouse

waiting to ambush a buck coming

to sniff your gash bait.

Talking about tracking.

Jesus, you're a prick.

Look. We find the place. We come back here.

We call it in.

One of us stays surveillance, yeah?

I can live with that.

Let's go.

Now, you got a tip

where Ledoux cooks, and Cohle came back

from wherever he was.

You knew it was gonna get here, man.

Just the once, the way you tell it.

I'll tell it the same way that I told the shooting board

and every cop bar between Houston and Biloxi,

and you know why the story is always the same

17 years gone?

Because it only went down the one way.

¶

Now, Rust's dad taught him bowhunting.

You know, you had to track game till you got

within maybe 30 yards of it.

Now, this enabled us to discern the suspect's path

while sidestepping various anti-intruder devices

they installed.

Tripwires back there. Clearing is probably mined.

All right. How you want to do it?

You go back. Call it in. I'll wait here.

You're gonna hold position?

Yep.

Do it now, Marty.

Fuck you.

You ain't doing this without me.

All right. Stay low.

We were just about to turn back,

call in parish, state, whoever.

I mean, we had the location.

We had our suspects identified at the location, you know?

Might as well just leave the shit be

and hand it off.

That ain't what happened. Hmm.

No. As soon as we started to back off, man...

Blam!

Bullets cut through right near Rust's head.

We dove opposite ways into the high growth,

but they'd already spotted us,

and they had something high-velocity.

Boom! Blew apart this tree between us.

I mean, it was on.

¶

Hmm. Heavy shit...

Like ferns and whatnot bursting all around us,

bark flying off of trees.

I mean we were in a bucket shitstorm.

Shit.

State police.

Put your hands on your head.

Put them on your head now.

Don't even think about it.

Put your hands on your head right now.

Intertwine your fingers.

Do it.

Back up toward me.

Down on your knees. Go on.

It's time, isn't it?

The black stars.

Shut the fuck up.

They'd spotted us before we crossed the forest.

So all we could do was duck for cover, dig in,

try getting closer.

It was chaos.

The black stars rise.

Why the antlers?

Freeze, motherfucker.

Put it down. Hands up. State police.

Set it down.

I know what happens next.

I saw you in my dream.

You're in Carcosa now with me.

He sees you.

Marty!

You'll do this again.

Time is a flat circle.

Listen, Nietzsche. Shut the fuck up.

Put it down. Marty!

There you go.

Black star.

Put your hands on your head.

While I was hunkered down behind this old, decrepit boat,

Captain America Marty Hart

decides he's gonna run deep into the woods,

flank around the back of the house

where Ledoux is firing at us, right?

Well, he sneaks up behind Ledoux

and just as Ledoux turns, bam, popped one off in him...

Head shot, clean... Dropped him.

Now, his buddy Dewall, he made a run for it,

and his homemade, cracker-ass security system

took care of the rest.

¶

Oh, fuck.

Get the cuffs off him

before his blood settles.

We got to make this look right.

Goddamn. Fuck.

What do we do, Rust?

Oh, fuck him.

Good to see you commit to something.

Now go see to the kids.

Don't bring them out until I say so.

After we confirmed two deaths

and searched the rest of the premises,

that's when we found the two children.

I mean, we got very lucky.

We just as easily could've been chewed to pieces