smugglers. Butchers.
They provide every damn terrorist
organisation in the world with our guns.
I can't stand by you on this one, Ranger.
You withheld evidence, harboured
a key witness in a federal investigation,
caused a good man's death and violated
every jurisdictional clause in the book.
I've no choice but to put you on probation.
You'll take a mandatory vacation without
pay until this matter can be cleared up.
You want my star, Captain?
That won't be necessary. Not yet.
Hey, Wolf. How's my boy?
Jim...
What's wrong?
Nothing worth talking about.
Hey.
Hey.
Are you OK?
Yeah, I'm OK.
Lola!
- You think they got the message?
- Just like you planned.
Damn.
Jim?
Come on. Let's go home.
I'll see you soon, honey.
- Daddy, aren't you coming in?
- No, I'd better get going.
I don't wanna leave you.
You're becoming quite a lady, you know.
I'm gonna miss you, honey.
- I love you, Daddy.
- Oh, I love you too.
Pretty jittery for a Ranger.
- Pretty quiet for a fed.
- Oh, I make it my business.
Looks like somebody
doesn't like you, McQuade.
- I make a few enemies here and there.
- Yeah? So do I.
- What do you want?
- I came to enlist your help.
See, I'm not the token nigger
when it comes to following the rules.
Get to the point.
I know they got a drop-off point
somewhere between here and Big Bend.
- That's 500 square miles.
- Who knows? We might just get lucky.
Pretty desolate terrain, McQuade.
There are no roads up here.
- This could take weeks.
- Yeah, it's gettin' late.
We'd better turn back.
See somethin'?
Take us down over there.
There's been some activity here. Pretty
well-organised for the middle of nowhere.
There's nothing
indicated here on the map.
What's goin' on?
I've got a bad feeling about this place.
Well, Ranger, how does it feel
to be baby-sitting Burnside?
Candy-ass feds.
McQuade! What is this?
A damn goat trail?
- If you wanna turn back, that's fine by me.
- Who the hell does he think he is?
He knows this country better than you
know the warts on your wife's backside.
Why don't we all line up and kiss his ass?
- I'll be damned.
- You need some help?
Let's show 'em what this baby can do.
What the hell does he think he's doin'?
What the hell...?
Hang on.
- What's he got there? A damn tank?
- Why don't you just shut the hell up?
Let's go.
A real pretty setup, huh?
It's been too easy.
Let's check around
before we make a move.
Burnside, hold it.
- This is the FBI.
- Burnside!
Drop your weapons
or we'll commence firing.
Get down!
- Run for it. I'll cover you.
- I'm staying here.
Get your ass out of here!
That's an order, Trooper!
You son of a bitch!
Now this is my idea of fun.
Rawley, that's enough!
Look, darling. I have a surprise for you.
One of your new friends.
Rawley, please! Rawley!
I waited a long time for this.
Please don't do it this way, Rawley!
Very well, my dear.
Get his truck. I have a better idea.
Get her out of here.
You murderer! You murderer!
Let go of me!
Pick him up.
Put him in it.
Something to remember you by.
Adios.
Freeze, assholes!
Ranger!
You son of a bitch!
Ranger!
Ranger?
Don't die on me now, dammit.
Dammit, don't die on me now!
Get me a beer, kid.
Yes, sir!
Aren't we a sorry bunch of bastards?
Whose idea was this, anyway?
- Oh, Jim, thank God you're here.
- What's wrong? What's wrong?
It's Sally. She's missing.
I called all of her friends.
OK, calm down, calm down, calm down.
Are you sure you checked everywhere?
Oh, Jim.
I'll take care of this.
Is it "Ranger" or "Mr" McQuade?
May I come in, please?
- Say what you came to say.
- I came to offer my assistance.
A business acquaintance of mine, Rawley
Wilkes, has disappointed me greatly.
I'm not interested in your problems.
I'll get him my own way, in my own time.
- Wilkes has your daughter, McQuade.
- Oh, Jim! Jim!
It's his way of saying
he would enjoy your company again.
I want my daughter back, Falcon.