Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

With pleasure, papa.
That's tender.
I know.
Oh, yeah?
What's in these boxes?
Or selling drugs, but that was me, really.
Smart.
(STAMMERING IN BROKEN RUSSIAN)
Only the three of you?
It's never too late,
(LAUGHS)
Yeah, well, that figures.
Right here.
Head down.
No one here is speaking about uranium. Where's the file?
He'll be lucky to get life.
Look, it doesn't work like that, all right?
That's no longer your concern.
(ENDS CALL)
(GRUNTING) It's all right. You're fine.
In my room
It's U-235.
RPG now!
Look, Jack,
6 inch ribbon curls, honey!
Yeah!
Contact!
I'm scared to death, let's go!
Try not to forget it.
No.
One, two...
Shit!
(ELEVATOR BELL RINGS)
It's very simple, Yuri.
Sunshine...
My boy here.
All right.
It's a two-year contract on that phone.
but it's a matter of national security, all right?
No! No!
And the file?
(SIGHS)
But nobody supported me.
(TIRES SCREECH)
See, my boy
Please put on these clothes. Trust me.
The case against Mr. Komarov
Guess who!
(LAUGHS)
Irina. Papa!
Set at 91.
Ah, yeah
I used him.
Yeah?
Is that the dancer down there?
Almost there.
What's in the file?
Sorry. Oh, God.
(CELL PHONE RINGING)
There's some food for thought
Can't tell you.
I know you love to just run in, making shit up.
When I say drive, I mean fly!
But like any professional, I have a plan.
All right.
You?
That's right, jerk-off!
McClane.
In my room
Yeah, just one.
Hey, hey.
6-1, Reaper, we read you. Go ahead.
Your mission is bleeding out over there.
Shit.