Detective Danny Fisher (John Cena) is about to have the worst day of his life. A nearly untraceable internationally-known terrorist named Miles Jackson (Aidan Gillen) has kidnapped his girlfriend Molly Porter (Ashley Scott) and forced him into "12 Rounds" of dangerous games carefully plotted throughout the streets of New Orleans. Danny struggles to keep focus while the obvious ticking clocks and crude consequences that accompany each one of these "rounds" do their best to derail him from rescuing the love of his life before it's too late.
Thats basically the plot premise. John Cena is responsible for Miles Jackson (who has the worst Irish accent I've heard in a while, and the actor is actually from Ireland) being captured by the FBI and his girlfriend being run over.
Apparently its common practice to put international supervillains in lockup in Florida because thats where this guy goes to prison. Instead of being extradited to the laundry list of countries he has supposedly committed atrocities in (as mentioned in the first 10 mins of the movie) hes charged with felony evasion (or something, I duno) and goes to general population in a sunny Florida prison.
Anyhow, he (obviously) escapes and instead of going straight for the guy driving the SUV that mowed down his slutty girlfriend he decides that he needs to play an elaborate game with Cena while chewing the scenery in New Orleans. I mean, his girlfriend seems like kind of a whore and its not like he didn't have enough money to actually purchase another human being for companionship. But hey, this is WWE Films here... we're not talking about an Ingrid Bergman-esque study of the human condition.
I mean fuck.. seriously Miles. For the tens of thousands of dollars you put into buying the technology for your super elaborate games and expensive cutting edge technology you could've been in Thailand banging ladyboys and drinking mai tais.