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(light dramatic music)
(women panting and moaning)
- Can we, can we talk about something?
- No, not right now.
- Renee, listen.
- You don't wanna do this anymore?
- It's not that, I just...
Wait, wait-
- Give me something to work with.
- What? What is it?
- Do you still want this?
- More than ever.
- Then promise me we'll work something out.
- I don't, I don't know what that means.
- I... (door opens)
(footsteps approaching)
- [Juliette] I told you we're not delivering on anything
less than our usual cut.
Come again?
You're breaking up.
No, it can't be on my end. It must be on yours.
Call me back when you get a better signal, bye!
These headsets are such pieces of shit.
Renee?
I know your shoes, Renee.
(toilet flushes) - Yeah, it's me.
- Do you have a dick?
- A what?
- You have a dick now?
Like you were peeing standing up.
- Wow, you definitely just said that.
- Lighten up.
- I was just tossing the coffee.
- You seem a little out of it.
You barely said a word on that call this morning.
- Yeah, I'm fine.
Just a lot on my mind.
- Well, we all need to be 100%
over the next couple of months.
- 20% of the company just got let go this week.
- Then make it 120%.
If you're worried about the layoffs, you're safe.
- What does that mean?
- That means I got to weigh in on our department.
- They asked you.
- You seem surprised that I didn't throw you under the bus.
Can you imagine the weight on my shoulders?
- I don't know. How does it feel?
- Fan-fucking-tastic actually.
I was on the call when they announced the cuts
and the budget for next quarter.
Stocks rose faster than their shriveled lil' dicks.
- Charming.
- Guess how high.
Seriously, guess.
- In inches or?
2%. - 7%
I'm cracking open a bottle of Veuve
at the end of the day in my office.
Swing by if you want.
- I think I'll pass.
- Is that her? - Is that who?
Figured you were sore about your girlfriend.
- Girlfriend?
- Catalina.
Don't play dumb. She was my assistant.
It was pretty obvious you two had something going on.
- What would I be sore about?
- The layoffs.
She didn't tell you?
- No, she didn't tell me yet.
- Well, no hard feelings.
I mean, if I were...
I'd be all over that too.
- What the fuck.
- You are taking this hard.
- Yeah, I can take that a little bit personally.
- Fair enough.
It had nothing to do with you.
In fact, the higher ups are really impressed
with your performance.
It's amazing how little action worked wonders for you.
Or maybe she was giving you information about my clients
'cause you always seemed to be just one step ahead.
- Do you think I'm capable of that?
- Why else were you with her?
Did you really see a future together?
Seems like I did you a favor.
- You know, it's a little pathetic
when you're the only one playing this game.
- So, it was just a fling?
- Just a fling.
- Then no harm done.
You'll find another little plaything soon.
Hey, maybe my new assistant, you might like him.
Oh, but you're...
But you can switch teams whenever it suits you, right?
- You know me.
- Don't sell yourself short, break it off with her.
Maybe there's hope for you yet.
You're out of paper towels.
- Maybe you shouldn't have cut half the cleaning staff.
- I'll be fine.
Alex, talk to me.
You're killing me here.
- I'm so sorry, Cat.
- Was I just a fling? Just your little plaything?
- Juliette said plaything.
- I tried to tell you what was going on.
- When's your last day?
- Today.
- So let's talk.
- Maybe she was right.
Maybe you were using me.
- You're taking her side now?
- You know what, I tried to take your fucking side before,
but guess what?
I don't know anymore.
- So you don't trust me?
- Why couldn't you answer her question?
Do we have a future together?
- I think so. - Then say it.
I think you should go.
(box of tissues clattering)
- Nice.
(gun firing)
(people screaming)
Oh, shit!
(Catalina sniffling)
- [911 Operator] 911, what is your emergency?
- I think I heard gunshots on my office building.
- [911 operator] Are you in a safe location?
- I'm in the ladies room, I think it's safe.
I don't know, I think-
- [911 Operator] Are you alone?
- Can the police come?
- [911 Operator] Units have already been dispatched.
If you feel it's unsafe to leave your location,
stay put, stay quiet, lock the door
and barricade if you can.
- All right, hurry.
- [911 Operator] Do you have a description-
(light dramatic music)
- Cat?
Are you okay?
All you have to do is just keep quiet.
(phone buzzes)
(gun firing)
Come on, respond!
(door opening)
(Juliette gasping)
- Renee?
- Juls. - Oh, shit!
Holy fucking shit!
- What happened? - I don't know.
What did you see? - Nothing.
I, I, I heard shots.
I don't know.
Jesus.
I saw people running so I just ran as fast as I can.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
Get this off of me.
(Juliette panting)
Oh God.
I did this. - Did what?
The cuts, I have pushed some poor bastard over the edge.
This is on me.
- We can hide until this blows over.
Police are on their way.
Come on. - God.
Alex. Alex, are you still at your desk?
Alex?
Piece of shit.
- I'm sure he's fine.
- I'm sorry.
- None of that matters now.
- I know I've been difficult.
- Everything's under control now.
(gun firing)
- Maybe we should make a run for it.
- No.
- We should make a run for it and-
- No, we're safe in here.
(woman screams) (gun fires)
- [Woman] He's coming, he's coming.
- What if they're hurt?
- What if the shooter is right behind them?
No, just leave them, maybe they'll go away.
(gun firing)
What are you doing? Are you posting online?
- I'm texting someone.
- [Dale] Is anyone in there?
- We should help him.
- Maybe he's the shooter.
- [Dale] I can hear you.
Please, please open up.
- What are you doing?
- [Dale] Please.
- Renee, don't.
- [Dale] I can hear you in there. Oh, God!
Please. - Don't.
Oh, God. (panting)
- Are you hurt?
Keep it down.
Are you hurt?
- [Dale] I don't know, there's blood.
There's blood-
- What's wrong with the men's room?
- [Dale] I just came from there, it's fucking bad.
- Hide someplace else.
- [Dale] I'm scared, please.
- So are we.
(door rattling)
- Did you hear something?
(Dale banging door)
- He's making too much noise. - Renee, don't!
- Oh God, (gasping).
Thank you.
Thank you, thank you.
(water splashing)
So fucking bad out there.
- How did you get past the shooter?
- I don't know.
- Did you see him?
- No.
- I don't recognize you, what department you in?
- I know him. He's in security
- Yeah, I was.
I came to pick up my last check.
- Are you part of the layoffs?
- Yeah. (paper towel ripping)
- Did you get your check?
- No, I didn't make it there.
- How about an ID badge?
- His name is Dale. He's not lying.
- I must've lost it.
- Why are you on the eighth floor?
- Juls.
- I don't know where accounting is, lady.
- Accounting is on the second floor.
- That's good to know.
- How long have you worked here?
- Three years.
I'll just stay over here, okay?
- Yeah.
(drier whirring) Fuck.
(light dramatic music)
- We can get through this, Cat.
- What the fuck are we doing?
What are you doing? - Quiet.
You were texting someone. - Yeah.
Someone in the building? - Yeah.
Maybe they saw the shooter.
- I don't know, she's not responding.
- Fuck. Sorry.
- Maybe she lost it.
Yeah, maybe.
Look, our guy's story isn't adding up.
- We've no idea what he's been through.
- No, something doesn't feel right.
I think I saw him before the shooting started.
- He said he didn't say anything.
- Things are starting to come back to me now.
- You saw him?
- I don't know (indistinct).
We haven't heard a gunshot since he got in.
- You're overreacting.
- You know I'm right.
- You're not wrong but it's not exactly a smoking gun.
- It's the only thing that makes sense.
Why did you have to let him in here?
- He said he was hit.
- He lied about that.
- I'm not gonna send him back out there to die.
- Then I will.
Where the fuck did he go?
- Respecting your space.
This is also a better place to listen from, so...
- Probably for the best.
- Hey, did you guys check for like a vent or something
we can escape out of?
- This isn't fucking "Die Hard".
- Thank you. That's helpful.
- I think we're just a little on edge here.
- Agreed.
- Can I use one of the stalls, please?
- No.
- Come on, I'll be quick.
- No.
- You gotta be fucking kidding me.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- Gonna piss right here.
- What, go ahead, here, just go.
- Thank you.
Would you like to sit in the chair
and lock the door with your body?
- Just go.
Was that a gun? - That was a gun.
Told you we should haven't let him in.
- He needed help, he's security.
- He was security.
- [Dale] Can you guys please talk?
I can't do this with you listening.
- What, now you've got stage fright?
- [Dale] Wasn't really gonna whip it out.
- Knew it. - We talked.
Right, and then he fucking shoots us
and then we fucking die.
(pee trickling)
- [Dale] I didn't flush for obvious reasons.
- I think we don't feel comfortable
with you in here with us anymore.
- Really?
I'm not a fucking pervert.
I just, I just came to hide.
That's it.
- Just leave.
- You just want me to fucking die.
(scoffs) I'll leave when the cops get here.
- Fuck this.
- What the fuck are you doing?
(gun clatters)
(blow lands)
- Gun!
(blow lands)
- Who the fuck are you?
You guys knew she was in there the whole fucking time?
- Don't move!
- Juliette, I said don't fucking move.
- Catalina, you watch where you're pointing that gun.
- Stop talking.
- Lower the gun, Cat.
- Let me, let me think.
- We can talk about this.
- Let me think!
- Seriously, who the fuck is that...
I'm not the shooter, okay?
I haven't hurt anyone.
- Because we have your gun. - I have his gun.
- You fucking idiots, the real shooter
is right fucking out there,
you think you caught him?
Oh my, we're gonna fuckin' die.
- We can tie him up until the police arrive.
- [Dale] What a great idea.
- Do it.
- With what? Fucking Kleenex?
- Trash bags, use a trash bag.
- There aren't any.
- I saw a janitor's cart right outside the door.
- That could work.
- Then go.
- Me? - Yeah, you.
- Are you scared?
- Of what?
- The real shooter
- I'm very open to the possibility
that there could be two shooters.
- I'll go.
- Wait.
Okay.
- If you hear any gunshots...
- We'll call the cops.
(chair scraping)
- The cart was right outside.
- What's taking so fucking long.
- Maybe you should go get her.
- Renee!
What did you see out there?
- I couldn't find the trash bags.
And this chair isn't keeping anyone out.
- Do it.
In the stall.
Get up.
Get up, I will fucking shoot you in the head.
- Okay, okay.
Get down on the toilet.
Get down on the toilet!
(blow lands)
- Do what she says.
- Oh, fuck.
- Tie his hands.
(Dale groaning) - Oh, fuck.
- Hurry up. - All right.
- What is your plan?
- Tie his feet. - Okay, all right.
- We should be formulating a plan,
we should be in constant contact with the police.
You should not be tying up the only motherfucker
that knows how to use that gun.
- Why'd you bring it?
- I always carry it.
- Fuck off with that.
Who brings a loaded gun to a former workplace?
- I have a concealed carry permit
in my fucking pocket right fucking here.
- I thought the whole point of this
was to be able to shoot back.
- Everybody's a hero at a gun range.
He has an AK, that is a Beretta, I was outgunned.
I'm not stepping in to that shit.
- Well, it's about fucking time.
(helicopter blades whirring)
How long do you think it'll take for 'em
to get in the building?
- [Dale] Depends, if the shooter is (indistinct)
on this floor.
(phone buzzes)
- She's okay.
- Did she see the shooter? Is it an employee?
- She didn't see his face.
- Show me what it says.
- Cat!
- Is that bleach?
Fuck!
- You you really know a lot about guns, don't you?
- What the fuck?
- How'd you know that was an AK?
- It's a common rifle, you can tell by the burst,
the fucking sound.
- I know you're part of this.
- I don't want to kill anybody, okay?
I'm not a murderer.
- Fuck you. Fuck you!
Oh God, just let me go, okay?
I will lead the police up here.
They're surrounding the building as we speak.
- Right, you want me to believe
that you're just gonna stroll out of here
and get help for us with an active shooter on the loose.
- Please, I know he's out there, okay?
Let me help fix this.
- We haven't heard any shots since you've been in here.
- Yeah, because he took hostages probably.
- Or he's being held hostage.
- Fuck you!
- Put the gun down, Cat.
- It has your attention doesn't it?
So we're not gonna talk about those text messages now?
- Do you have any idea what's going on out there?
This is not a good time to be talking about us.
- When is a better time?
- Let's just get through this.
- We could fucking die here.
- Yeah, we're gonna die if you keep waving
that thing around in here.
- If you put your phone down.
(phone buzzes)
Are you gonna get that?
- This is more important right now.
- If he comes in here,
you really think she's capable of handling that gun.
- Then who?
- If not me, fucking you.
She's gonna misfire that thing, kill one of us,
and draw some unwanted attention.
She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing.
- You're not wrong there.
- Why don't you do something about it?
- You're as dumb as you look.
You think you can turn us against each other?
I think you're afraid that I might know too much about you.
- I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, lady.
- I know you're not supposed to be in the building today.
The paychecks were mailed out.
I signed them.
- You're behind the layoffs?
- Now do you wanna kill me?
(spits)
Son of a bitch!
- Don't even think about it.
- Okay. You're, you're still mad, that's, that's fair.
Did you two work things out?
- We're all on the same side.
- Look, I get it, we're safe.
We have got our guy.
- [Dale] I'm not the fucking shooter.
- Keep it down.
Okay?
(phone buzzes)
Okay, let's, uh, let's call 911 again.
- I already did.
- Call them again, tell them where we are
and that we have the shooter.
- [Dale] I'm not the fucking shooter.
- Shut up.
Tell them we have one of the shooters.
Is that better?
- (indistinct) and torturing an innocent man?
- You wanna go another round?
- I didn't fire that weapon. Check the magazine.
- [Juliette] The what?
- The magazine.
- The magazine in the gun.
It can tell us whether he's fired the gun or not.
- Do you know what she's talking about?
- I'm trying to help you.
- Yes, of course. I know what she's talking about.
Tell her. - I heard.
What's the magazine? - Oh, for God's sake.
- You hit the release on the handle.
Right there by your thumb, yes.
For the love of Christ,
take your finger off the goddamn trigger.
(magazine clatters)
We're all gonna die.
Here comes the hard part, you're gonna have to count.
- How many are there?
- How many are there supposed to be?
- Some have 10 I think. - 15
- What are you gonna do? I have the bullets.
- Give them to me. - Fuck you, no way.
No, fuck you. - Okay. Okay.
- Careful, okay? There's still one in the chamber.
- She has the bullets.
- It automatically feeds bullets into the chamber
when it's loaded.
- He's saying it's loaded. - Is it?
- Oh my God, you don't know
the first fucking thing about guns.
- No, I don't.
- None of your boyfriend's ever taught you this?
You never took a gun safety class or went to a range?
(Juliette scoffs)
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, hold on, hold on.
Check the chamber, you'll find the last round.
- I don't see anything.
- Pull the slide back.
- I think I have a better way
of finding out if you're lying.
- You're a fucking lunatic.
- Juls. - Stop it!
- You are not running things now, Cat! I am.
He's a part of this.
- No, no, think about it, okay?
The shots you heard, fully automatic.
(mimics automatic firing)
That's a semi automatic pistol.
- Listen to him, Juls.
- Tell them.
Tell them you're part of this, that you're involved.
- I'm just here to pick up my check.
- Fuck off with that.
You've worked in security for three years
and you don't know where accounting is?
- You're not gonna force a confession out of me.
- Oh, really?
(phone buzzes)
- Stop, stop, stop, it's not him.
(gun fires) (Cat screams)
(Dale groaning)
- Oh my God.
(panting)
Oh God.
- What did you do?
- I didn't mean to shoot.
I wasn't gonna shoot.
- (indistinct) fuck, fuck!
- I was just defending myself.
- (crying) Help me, help me!
Help!
(gun fires)
You gotta get me outta here.
- We can't do that right now.
- I keep bleeding out like this, I'm gonna die.
- Can you hold on a little bit longer?
- Where are those fucking cops?
- It sounds like they're trying to talk to the shooter
from the outside.
- Fucking call, call the SWAT, I don't fucking care.
I don't wanna die in this fucking bathroom.
- Even if we call them, they're not gonna pick up the pace
for one wounded.
What?
- At least we know where they fucking are.
- Look, we just, we just need
to get our story straight here.
We're not going anywhere.
- You shot him, unarmed, tied up.
You did that. - He got free.
You know if I were you, I would be more worried
about helping him from bleeding out
than what your story is gonna be.
- You're gonna wait out the clock on me.
Please, please, don't do this.
Please, I'll tell them the shooter,
I'll tell them the shooter guy, please.
Fuck.
- There's not much more we can do right now.
- Just shut up.
- Help me get to the fucking toilet.
- It wouldn't kill you to have a little dignity, Juls.
(Dale panting)
- Okay.
(Dale groaning)
(Dale panting)
- Okay, okay!
He came in, he came in like this,
and you were here and then Catalina was there, right?
- I'm not gonna lie for you, Juls.
- We have to start taking care of each other.
If not now, when?
- This isn't office politics.
This is a man's life we're talking about.
- It's our lives too.
- There's still a shooter out there.
- Hey.
- Do you want me to leave you alone?
- No.
I need you to get that gun, and those bullets.
I need you to kill me.
- You know I can't.
- Fuck, it hurt so bad.
- Just hold on a little longer, okay?
(Dale panting)
- If you don't do it, I'm gonna bleed out
like a fucking animal.
- I can't.
- I was supposed to be a part of this.
Today.
I couldn't go through with it.
I wasn't here to pick up a check.
- What the fuck did you just say?
- Fucking kill me, please.
- Why are you doing this?
- It wasn't supposed to go this far.
- Who is out there?
- They heard that shot,
he's gonna be coming to find me.
- Cat?
(gun clicks)
(Dale suffocating)
- We were still talking here.
- We are still talking.
- We're still talking.
Shut the fuck up.
What the fuck are you doing?
- Give me the gun. - Why?
I'm gonna fucking kill him.
- Stop!
- He's with the shooter!
(Dale grunting)
- Then just let him die. - Help me.
(Juliette shrieks)
(Dale suffocating)
(neck snaps)
(body plops on the floor)
(Catalina sobbing)
(light dramatic music)
- Okay, okay.
Came in.
He came in violently.
He burst in here.
And he scared us, we were scared already.
And he was creepy looking.
No, no.
We let him in, Renee, you knew him.
We let him in, Renee knew him,
we thought we could trust him.
He worked in security.
And then it got violent.
When we saw he had a gun...
And, we just,
we had to defend ourselves.
We were defending ourselves.
- We don't need a fucking alibi.
He was with the shooter, we didn't do anything wrong (sobs).
We need to figure out a plan if the other shooter comes in.
- We shoot him.
We'll shoot him.
(Renee sobbing)
- I think they cut the power. - Yeah.
That means they should be here soon.
(glass breaking)
(drier whirring)
(gun firing)
(door banging)
(shooter wailing)
(gun clicks)
- No.
(gun clicks)
- No! (screams)
(gun firing)
(bullets clattering)
(high pitched buzzing)
(shooter wailing)
(gun fires) (body falls)
(gun fires severally)
(water splashing)
(Renee panting)
(instrumental music)