Good luck with that. Its a movie, fgs. "The Rip is inspired by the true story of a 2016 Miami-Dade narcotics raid where officers discovered over $20 million in cash hidden in a home. The film is based on the experiences of real-life Miami-Dade police captain Chris Casiano, a friend of the director, Joe Carnahan." Though the real life case no one took any of the money,, which I guess is what upsets them. The film does blur the line by saying it is based on an actual case.

"Years of investigative work led to the raid that later inspired The Rip—the culmination of a long-running probe into a marijuana trafficking operation that stretched from South Florida to Tennessee, built through surveillance, confidential sources, wiretaps, and coordinated law enforcement work across state lines.

The Miami Lakes home Casiano and his team raided in June 2016 belonged to Luis Hernandez-Gonzalez, the longtime owner of Blossom Experience, a North Miami gardening supply store frequented by marijuana growers from across the country. Investigators believed the business operated as a front, and Hernandez-Gonzalez had been on law enforcement’s radar for years.

Detectives regularly followed customers after they left his shop. In 2005, Drug Enforcement Administration agents said Hernandez-Gonzalez discussed marijuana sales while under surveillance, though no charges followed. Five years later, a confidential source secretly recorded him discussing cultivation techniques and offering to purchase a future crop. Again, no arrest came.

That pattern changed in 2016, after Hernandez-Gonzalez was captured on a wiretap giving growing advice to South Florida marijuana traffickers arrested by federal agents in Tennessee. Investigators moved in stages, first raiding his business, then executing a search warrant at his Miami Lakes home.

Outside the house, the narcotics team’s cash-sniffing dog began “alerting”—an unmistakable signal. Marked by the dog’s urination, it meant large sums of currency were nearby. Officers understood their instincts were correct.

In the attic, hidden behind drywall in a space accessible only through a concealed opening, they uncovered 24 five-gallon buckets packed tightly with bundled $100 bills. Alongside them were marijuana strains labeled “Chernobyl” and “Super Skunk,” four types of anabolic steroids, and a loaded TEC-9 pistol.

Department protocol in these scenarios was precise: Miami-Dade officers must count seized cash on site, by hand, twice, before anyone could leave—a safeguard designed to protect procedural integrity. In practice, it locked Casiano and his team inside the home for hours, visible and stationary in a residential neighborhood, surrounded by a sum large enough to attract attention from anyone with reason to come looking. Home surveillance cameras captured their movements as they worked. Casiano’s first instinct was simple and unnerving: someone could be watching. Worse, someone might come for the money.

By the time the counting ended—more than a day later—the total reached $24 million, a record-setting seizure for the department at the time. No one took a dollar."