A young journalist, a seasoned cameraman and a discredited war correspondent embark on an unauthorized mission to find the No.1 war criminal in Bosnia. However, their extremely dangerous target decides to come after them.

Benjamin: We are journalists! We can't do this. It is unethical... and insane.
Simon: It would be a pleasure to personally catch him.
Benjamin: By ourselves. By ourselves. We don't even have any weapons.
Simon: If I gave you a gun, would you know how to use it?
Benjamin: No.
Simon: Then what the fuck are you complaining about?
Duck: I told you. The moment you start drinking that Bosnian brandy, the devil's sitting in the corner, just laughing.
Simon: ...putting your life in danger is actual living - the rest is television.
Indian Officer: War criminals? Believe it or not, we don't even have a copy of the complete indictment list.
Duck: You don't?
Indian Officer: [hopefully] No. Do you have a copy? I could always Xerox it. Miriam, is the copier working again?
Duck: Look, word has it there's a bunch of them living right here in Foca.
Indian Officer: Could be. Unfortunately, we're here to reform the police force, not hunt for war criminals.
Duck: But it wouldn't be much hunting. I mean, most of them are listed right in the phone book.
Indian Officer: As I said, we're not authorized to arrest war criminals.
Duck: You *are* the international police, right?
Indian Officer: Yes. Under the flag of the United Nations.
Benjamin: I thought the U.N. *was* looking for war criminals.
Indian Officer: We are. Aggressively. There's a five million dollar reward, you know?
Benjamin: But you said you don't have an indictment list.
Indian Officer: We don't! Donut?
Duck: When I was a kid I used to carry a rabbit's foot for good luck. When I was in Somalia, I traded it for two cold Budweisers and a back-issue of Penthouse. You hear people talk about the horrors of war all the time, but the dirty little secret is, if you're just reporting it, war has its bright side as well. I know, I know, I'm sacrilegious but, being that close to death, being that alive, it's completely addictive. And if anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying.
CIA Operative: Let me tell you something, Mr. Cunt...
Simon: Hunt.
CIA Operative: Mr. *Hunt*. You're lucky I haven't already arrested your sorry ass and thrown you in a dark fucking hole with no fucking exits.
Simon: He's expecting NATO troops, not two jerks in a car.
Duck: Have you thought about the bodyguards that he travels with, Simon?
Simon: Yeah, word is he's got twenty armed guards with him at all times.
Duck: Yeah, well I heard it's *fifty*.
Simon: Fifty?
Duck: Fifty.
Simon: Maybe. Actually, some people believe he has none.
Duck: *Stupid* people.
Simon: Laugh at all their jokes. Whatever you do, don't stare at the midget
Benjamin: [after the waiter's warning] What the fuck was that about?
Simon: A warning.
Benjamin: Yeah? It seemed more like a threat.
Simon: Yeah, beware of the nosy waiter with Serbian pride.
Duck: Well, actually, it was the first time that I thought that maybe Simon wasn't jerking our chain.
Benjamin: Yeah? Why's that?
Duck: Because the guy in there said that he's not in Celibici, which means maybe he actually *is* in Celebici.
Benjamin: Right. Unless he's really *not* in Celibici.
Duck: Well, that's a possibility, too.
Boris: For a group of U.N. guards to go, it's too dangerous. For you guys? Sure, why not? Go to Celibici. Do the world a favor.
Benjamin: Okay, I'm sorry, are you still insinuating we're a CIA hit squad or something?
Boris: I'm sorry, are you still insinuating you're journalists?
CIA Operative: If I ever hear from you again, the CIA will be on you like a cheap suit from the Men's Wearhouse. You'll be arrested, jailed, and sodomized by a big, dumb, large-cocked Serbian bastard for the rest of your shitty little lives. And if you don't care about that, if you *like* big Serbian cock and you still plan on reporting any of this, then your friend Boris will find himself eaten by a tiger or a lion or a squirrel of whatever fucking animal we can find in darkest Africa. And you'll have to live with *that*.
Simon: I assume that I can quote you on the squirrel remark.
CIA Operative: Let me ask you a question. why would you think the CIA would want to let a war criminal go?
Simon: Let me ask you a question. In five years, why has the CIA, the Hague, the United Nations and NATO not been able to find a guy that we found in just two days, if you actually wanted to find him?
Duck: You see, you can't go hunting with 10 body guards. It's too noisy. It scares off the animals.
[last lines]
Title Card: The United States took out several full page Wanted ads in the local Bosnian papers to show the world it was serious about catching these war criminals... Of course, they listed an 800 number that could be used only in America.
Boris: [introducing them to Mirjana] I'm not doing what I'm doing. I mean, clearly I'm doing this, but I'm not doing this, because if I was doing this, I could get into a lot of trouble for doing it.
Duck: What the fuck, Boris?
Boris: Yeah. She might seem young and beautiful to you, but she would cut your balls off and sell them as trinkets if she thinks you're fucking with her. Okay?
The Fox: They are more afraid of me than I am of them. You do not have the balls to kill me. And you do not have the balls to take my money. And you do not have the balls to see what the international community will do, or not do to me. You have nothing.
Simon: That's why we've got to change the rules.
[first lines]
Title Card: Only the most ridiculous parts of this story are true.
[last lines]
Duck: Simon, you the only man I know who will borrow money to repay a debt that you took to repay a debt.
Simon: And that's why you love me.
Duck: That's why I love ya.
Roadhouse Waiter: The doctor is not bald, he's not desperate, and he's not in Celibici. He's everywhere. He knows everything. He listens to everything you say. And if you get close to the Fox, if you corner him, then even God can't help you.
Simon: Look, this is a news event. We are news men. We want off the copter, now. You ever heard of freedom of the press?
UN Soldier: Not in Bosnia sir, no.
Duck: Oh shit, I'm staring at the midget.
Benjamin: Well, stop!
Boris: It took me months to gain the trust of certain people who normally would be protecting the Fox. That's how I know you didn't just stumble on the fact he's up in Celibici.
Duck: Well, it's been printed in the press.
Boris: So are the horoscopes. Do you believe them?
Duck: You're not making any sense now.
Boris: I know. I'm the United Nations.
CIA Operative: The CIA has a bright side, the CIA has a dark side. And then there's the gray side. We do the things that people don't need to know about. It's a part we deny even exists. It's a part of the CIA that's been working for the last 3 weeks in Bosnia on the Fox.
Simon: And what have you been working on doing? Making him disappear?
CIA Operative: Let me ask you a question. Why do you think the CIA would want to let a war criminal go, huh?
Simon: Let me ask *you* a question. In 5 years, why has the CIA, the Hague, the United Nations, and NATO, not been able to find a guy that we found in just 2 days? If you actually wanted to find him.
Duck: [about Boris] He thinks we're a hit squad. He thinks we're a fucking hit squad!
Benjamin: Yeah, this can't be good. Isn't it illegal, impersonating a CIA officer?
Duck: Yeah, but we denied it.
Benjamin: Yeah, he didn't believe it.
Duck: It's true. It's like the more we fucking denied it, the more he didn't believe it.
Benjamin: Yeah, the problem is, if you were CIA you would deny it, and if you weren't, you would also deny it.
Duck: Simon liked to point out that news awards were like hemorrhoids, every asshole eventually gets one.
Benjamin: [after being shot at by the waiter] We're gonna die. Every single person down here knows exactly what we're doing.
Simon: Keep your panties dry, Benjamin. It had nothing to do with the Fox.
Benjamin: What the hell do you mean? It's just a little local tradition to shoot at every customer?
Duck: [Simon pulls out some money] Wait a minute. Is that my money? You mean the money I left on the table, that's mine? Simon!
Simon: Times are tight. Things happen. Sue me.
Benjamin: Wait, wait, wait. You stole the money that was left for the bill?
Simon: I needed it more.
Benjamin: Okay, you got us shot at for twenty bucks!
Simon: I didn't know he was gonna *shoot* at us.
Duck: You know, when you think about it, the whole thing is fucking ridiculous.
Simon: Why? I could very well be CIA.
Duck: You can't even spell CIA.
Simon: Every fucking CIA guy I know looks exactly like *me*.
Duck: Yeah, only better-looking.
Benjamin: Well, they certainly do not look like me.
Simon: And that is the genius of it! Of course, the CIA would have someone who doesn't *look* CIA! That's exactly what they would do.
Roadhouse Waiter: In the war I kill people like you.
Simon: The war is over.
Duck: There've many distinguished moments in television history. This wasn't one of them.
Boris: So you met the midget.
Duck: It's better than running over the midget.
Duck: One time in Rwanda, Simon decided he was gonna assassinate the leader of the Hutus and end the war. Three days later, he was in Morocco getting a massage from a hooker named Gladys.