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A toast to the man himself, our savior, our Pope.

Mr. Pope, my daughter, she's sick. I'm here to ask a favor.

– How big? – $300,000 big.

– Get him out of here. Go! – Time's up.

That was awkward.

The way it appears to me is they're taking a buttload of money

every Thursday night.

If someone were to rob them of that money…

Stealing from the Pope? You're suicidal.

Let's do it.

We have the access codes. That's on me.

We have the inside man. That's you.

You're going to be parked up here, with the car.

– Where'd you learn to do that? Army? – Yeah.

– Did you serve? – Only thing I served is fries, my friend.

– How much? – Come on, let's go. Hurry.

$3 mil.

Get me my money back.

Unbelievable!

Get out of here!

We got a lot of people in a hurry here.

Five quarters. There you go.

Open the door!

Let's recap.

A man stole $3 million,

and you let him get on a bus?

– So what are you going to do? – I'm gonna find him.

We are following the bus 657 hostage situation.

All right, boys. We get a clean shot, we take it.

Copy that.

You need to fold your hand and walk away from the table.

I'm taking your whole stack.

Noted.

They're not going to hurt us.

Where's the money?

What's the big plan?

Maybe start a bus company and go head to head with Greyhound.