Predator 2

Los Angeles, 1997. The city is a pressure cooker — warring Colombian and Jamaican drug cartels are waging open warfare in the streets, and the police are barely keeping up. Lieutenant Mike Harrigan leads a plainclothes unit that operates on the edge of insubordination, always first in, always aggressive.

When Harrigan responds to a stand-off and finds the Colombian gang slaughtered in a rooftop penthouse — skinned, hung upside down, organs removed — he starts pulling at a thread nobody official wants him near. A covert federal team led by the slick and secretive Peter Keyes shuts him out of his own investigation. Something bigger is happening.

The Predator is working its way through the city's most dangerous men. A Jamaican drug lord and his crew are wiped out in their fortified compound. Harrigan's partner Danny is killed investigating one of the scenes. The creature is smart, selective, and treating LA's underworld as a private hunting ground.

Harrigan pieces it together through sheer tenacity. Keyes reveals the government has been tracking the creature for years and wants it alive for study. Their trap — set in a meatpacking plant — fails catastrophically. The Predator butchers the federal team and leaves Keyes for dead.

Harrigan pursues the creature across rooftops and into the city underground, eventually finding his way into the Predator's cloaked ship buried beneath LA. They fight inside the vessel — close quarters, brutal. Harrigan wins.

Then the door opens. Other Predators file in, surrounding him. He braces himself. Instead of killing him, their elder steps forward and presses an antique flintlock pistol into his hand — a trophy from a hunt in 1715, an acknowledgment of his kill. They leave. The ship launches. Harrigan walks out into the night, alone.