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dies.
Why don't we wait
till after she's dead?
You think it's over now.
You're wrong.
I'm not coming out yet.
I'll kill you first.
Roy, come...
God!
Lieutenant.
Yeah, Willis,
what's your status?
Broad just jumped, around back.
Go on ahead.
- Halt!
- FBI!
Get away from the body!
The party's over, pal.
She's dead.
She's dead, Lieutenant.
Hell of a night, huh?
Who was here?
Who touched the body?
She's dead, Mr. Gallagher.
It's over.
Nelson, this is Willis.
Check on the coroner's
arrival for me.
Better bring in the
Robbery /Homicide shooting team.
What's going on up there?
You want us up there?
You want to make
some room there?
Move 'em out of the way.
Gurney coming through.
Joey.
Hey, look,
it's none of my business...
but the lady had
fifteen bullet holes in her.
You guys like
making my job miserable, huh?
Shouldn't you go
to the ambulance now?
Just give me a minute.
It's not over, is it?
I want an explanation.
Explanation won't help you.
I've worked homicide
for thirteen years...
and I've seen
a lot of strange shit.
But I have never
seen anything like this.
You know what's going on,
and I don't.
You're going to tell me.
Explanation's
not going to help you.
I'll decide that.
Then I'm sorry.
Hey!
Don't you walk away from me.
What I'm after
is still out there...
and I don't know where to start.
Tommy, what happened to you?
Arrest him.
Arrest him?
Book him.
Lloyd...
I've got to take you downtown.
Boss' orders.
Come on.
Woodfield,
what are you doing up so late?
Having a ball.
I heard you took one.
You OK?
Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.
I woke you, huh?
No, I'm fine.
I'm fine.
If I wasn't fine...
somebody else would call you,
wouldn't they?
I got into a bit of a scrape,
but no big deal.
I'm just calling
so you won't worry.
I'll be home soon.
I'll, uh...
I'll be home as soon as I can.
I love you, too. Bye.
I hope you know what
you're doing, busting a Fed.
Let me worry about that.
How's the arm?
Hey, it's a scratch.
What the hell's this,
your press secretary?
This is the stuff
I got from Lloyd...
firearms, personal I. D...
and who in the hell
knows what this is?
Must be some kind
of special FBI toy.
Drop it off at the lab.
We'll see what they can
figure out in the morning.
Gotcha. No problem.
Thanks, partner.
Take care of that arm.
I got that information
you wanted.
Seattle FBI
says Agent Lloyd Gallagher...
was killed in a forest fire
about a month ago...
with a friend of his
named Stone, Robert Stone.
They were hunting
in Olympic National Forest...
the weekend
they had that big forest fire.
Bureau figured Stone was dead.
Never found his body.
Just figured it burned up
in the fire.
Is that all?
I had them wire me
a picture of Stone.
Evidently, Mr. Stone...
has taken over the identity
of his dead friend.
If you don't need me,
I'm going home.
Brem?
Good work.
Excuse me, Sarge.
Where do you want him?
Take the cuffs off him.
You want me to stay?
Crazy thing.
I was starting to like you.
Sit down.
I checked with the FBI
in Seattle.
Lloyd Gallagher is dead.
Your real name is Robert Stone.
That's about all
we know about you...
except for the fact...
that you're driving
a stolen Porsche...
which is probably
the only true thing...
that you've told us so far.
So why don't we just
have a little talk?
Who are you,
and what are you doing here?
Please don't ask me that.
Don't give me that!
I've had it with you.
You think this
is some kind of a game?
You think you can waltz
into this town...
turn my department
upside-down...
endanger my men's lives?
I'm tired of you
jerking me around.
I want answers!
Why does it take
fifteen shots...
to take down
some zoned-out stripper?
Why do three
law-abiding citizens...
go crazy
and start killing people?
I want answers,
and I want them now!
Miller, the stripper,
DeVries were the same...
and it's not human.
Excuse me?
I've been after it

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