All language subtitles for The.Wire.S02E04.720p.BluRay.x264-GECKOS

What's up?

Great view.

The harbor, I mean.

It's fucking picturesque is what it is.

I always ask myself, "Is today the day I drive
to Fort Armistead to stare at the harbor?"

No, I figure if I mind my own business, Frank
will call and wake me at seven in the morning

and tell me to get my ass down there
for some mysterious fucking reason so, hey.

Good anchorage, good cranes,
good railroads, close to I-95.

Lot of people ready to work.

That's my fucking town.

Except we're another 110 miles
for any ship coming up from Hampton Roads.

An extra day. So why come, right?

Unless you know your cargo's
gonna move fast and clean through the port.

Why offload in Baltimore except that we can
turn your ship around faster than other ports?

A Baltimore gang will make sure your cargo -
all your cargo - gets where it needs to go.

- Like you never stole nothing back in the day.
- We ain't back in the day, Nicky.

When did you last see trucks backed up
for three miles outside the terminal?

If it wasn't for the car-ships, we'd be starving.
The cameras come back.

I'm serious. They come back today. We tell
the shipper we lost the can in the stacks.

They're gone. We turned them over already.

To who?

Patapsco Line's a cunt hair away
from taking their business to Norfolk.

- I don't need this shit.
- I do, Uncle Frank. I need the money.

- God damn it! You ain't hearing me!
- You think this shit is fucking easy?

Try living on five or six days a month.
See how fast it puts you on your ass.

- I am on my ass, Uncle Frank.
- You need money, come to me.

Frankie Sobotka's
Father fucking Christmas lately.

- No doubt his pockets are full.
- You think it's for me?

Is that what you think, huh?
It ain't about me, Nick!

I know, I'm sorry.

You got Ziggy mixed up in this?
Jesus, what the fuck are you thinking?

Me and Zig are gonna talk on this
long and hard.

Let's go to work.

- How much?
- Twenty.

- Three-way split.
- Yeah? Who's the inside man?

You don't know?

Fuck you, then, I ain't no snitch.

Nobody should flash too much money.
You know that much, right?

Yeah.

When you walk through the garden

You gotta watch your back

Well, I beg your pardon

Walk the straight and narrow track

If you walk with Jesus

He's gonna save your soul

You gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

He's got the fire and the fury

At his command

Well, you don't have to worry

If you hold on to Jesus' hand

We'll all be safe from Satan

When the thunder rolls

We just gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

Down in the hole

Down in the hole

You gotta help me keep the devil

Down in the hole

Toxicology's coming back positive for
strychnine. 10%, 12%. It's pretty well laced.

- This was intentional?
- That's the ME's call.

I've seen street packages cut all the time
with all kind of chemicals.

Don't use too much,
you give a weak package some kick.

People think you're high-grade when you got
stepped-on trash with rat poison mixed in.

Too much poison, you got people falling out.

Be nice to have some answers for reporters.

- What do they wanna know?
- How it got in, what we're doing, the usual.

- It got in like everything gets in.
- If you can't win the war on drugs in a prison,

where the hell you gonna win it?

If it were one or two dead, it would fade.

Five in one night, eight more in the infirmary?
We need to show the flag on this.

- I need for y'all to wheel and deal.
- What do you mean?

This case gets made from an informant

and you'll have a couple dozen of them
if you're ready to shave some years.

Colonel.

- Jimmy.
- Winona.

Hey, hey, hey. Gilligan, little buddy.

Hey, don't you have a job?

Ooh. Ouch!

I smell fresh police work. OK, be like that.

You got some paper from inside the can?
A letter, envelopes, scraps of stuff?

Yeah, everything's in Evidence Control.

- You got the submission slips?
- He does.

- Lester.
- You want to pull all of it?

Hold it.

Before you start dancing with your Jane Doe,

I'll need something from you
on the Gant case.

I got a set of Ilene Nathan's teeth marks
on my hind parts.

- No problem.
- You found Omar?

I never lost him, my friend.

- He's got Omar?
- Bullshit.

Who's Omar?

My papers are in.

They are.

You want out, you're out.

But I'm offering to clean the slate here.
You and me.

Why?

Council vote is next week,
after which I'm upstairs.

If I'm gonna give myself a chance to make
my mark on this place, I'll need good people.

People you can trust.

And you ain't that, hm?

All right, you're a snake
but you seem to know your business.

I'm taking the bar exam in a month.

Why not put it off for a year or two,
leave the department with a major's pension?

Scalise is gonna retire this summer.

Do me a good turn on this detail
in the Southeast and you'll have that posting.

- Why would you do that?
- I value you, Cedric.

Look, you're arrogant and disloyal

but maybe, given time,
you'll find a way to shine.

- What's the detail?
- Drug case probably.

My sense of it is that
Valchek has got some personal issues

with somebody in one of the port unions.

He thinks they got too much money and so,
being Valchek, he gets a detail.

- That it? Pretty thin.
- I don't care if you make a case for Valchek.

I do care that the old Polack comes away
from it feeling he got his money's worth.

Valchek asked for me by name, didn't he?

You two are trading horses
and you need me in the corral.

How about this?

If I bring in a case,

you make the detail permanent
as a major case unit within CID.

Fair enough. Just keep Valchek stroked

and make sure you bring in
a drug case or two.

One other thing.

A promotion and a specialized unit
isn't enough?

I choose my own people.

Fuck me once, shame on you.
Fuck me twice...

Make a list. Give it to Rawls.
He'll pull who you want.

Shit do not make sense. Some of them
woulda got nothing. Tae? Lizard?

Shit, if it was a hotshot, they was after
some real lightweight motherfucks.

Yo, Dee, you want any Silver Surfers?
They tossing shit Tae had in his cell.

Whoever load that shit up ain't know
what he was doing.

My boy down the infirmary say the shit
was more rat poison than it was dope.

Ha.

Fucking A, right?

Jane Doe No.5.

Five... Five...

What's up, baby?

Ha-ha-hoo!

Not here. Put it away.

Shot and a beer, darlin'.

- Kept one for yourself, did you?
- Them Japs make a nice little camera.

- You even got film in that bitch?
- No, it's digital.

- I know it's digital, so what?
- So, no film, look.

There's a computer chip inside.
You load the pictures onto the computer.

Thanks, Dolo.

Hey, Zig.

Ziggy.

Don't spread no cash around for a while, OK?

Hell, no.

I mean, I might get a new clutch plate
put in Princess is all.

- Also your father knows.
- How does he know?

Horse saw us, right?

- Fuck me. He told?
- How long's Horse been tight with your pop?

Of course he told.

- He's pissed, Zig. He ain't happy.
- What did you say?

I told him we already turned the cameras
around and, after a while, he stopped yelling.

Yeah, at you, maybe. Fuck!

Anyway...

- it's low profile for a while, all right?
- All right.

You don't have to take a picture
to no Photomart to get it turned around?

No, it goes on a computer.

I gotta take a leak.

Ho! Pretty boy, hey, there!

Oh, Christ, Ziggy.

Jimmy, just a scheduling thing.

Sean was invited to Mark's birthday party
on Saturday. Pick him up there after two.

I realize it's your weekend but Sean would
be upset if he missed it. OK? Great.

Omar by the end of the week,
Jimmy. Ilene is on the warpath.

Motherfucker, I am serious.

Mr. McNulty,
this is Dr. Halpern's office.

You missed your cleaning on Tuesday.
We haven't heard from you.

Give us a call, please.

McNulty, this is your dear friend Ilene Nathan.

I indicted this piece-of-shit case
because you swore we had an eyeball wit...

Drive time is 6.38am
and we have reports...

- Go around, asshole.
- What did you call me?

I'm sleeping on this side.
Cos you gotta get up, everybody does.

Yup.

Wipe off the seat, Nick, I know you hit it.

- If I could fart now, I would.
- That's a surprise.

No chance for breakfast, huh?

No. I'll stop by the bar.

No, you won't. You ain't got time. You gotta
run me past my ma's to pick up Ashley.

Hurry up.
You know I got a ship to work today.

Your ma knows you got a ship, too.

Don't go upstairs. Just head out the back.
I'll pick you up in the back of the alley.

Ow!

We got a kid together. What's the big deal
if we spend the night in your folks' basement?

They're decent people.

- We ain't got time.
- I know.

- So why are you grabbing?
- They were staring right at me.

I'll meet you out back.

So how do you get the container off the ship,
off the dock?

To make sure your cargo isn't messed with,
you'd wanna get with one of the checkers.

- Who are they?
- Local 1514.

They monitor all the loading and offloading,
they match the manifests, tally the cargo.

Nothing moves
without them putting it down somewhere.

- Or not.
- Or not.

So we need to talk to a checker.

What?

Black, white, Polish, Irish, Italian,
it doesn't matter. No one talks to police.

How do you make a case, then?

I patrol. I write traffic tickets.

They got an open container
or a damaged container, I take a report.

Something stolen, I take another report.

If someone gets something dropped on 'em
or gets run over by a loader, I keep writing.

That's the job, huh?

- How long you been on?
- Two years.

What did you do before that?

I took tolls at the Fort McHenry tunnel which,
I'm happy to say, wasn't nearly as much fun.

Made 22,500, went home tired every night
till I walked by the office bulletin board

and read the MDOT job posting.

Port Authority officers, schedule one,
starting at 33 with benefits.

Toll-taking days were over, huh?

Father of my two kids went to Houston in '99,
hasn't so much as called in three years.

I wasn't gonna make it on 22,500.
Not with kids, I wasn't.

Did you want to be a police?

- Could've been me the other night.
- True.

Except you up and tell me to stop doing that.
Avon to the rescue. How did you know?

I figured your ass was here to thank me
for pulling you off of that shit.

Five dead, more in the infirmary.
How did you know?

I did as your uncle should cos
I'm concerned about you fucking yourself up.

You knew.

Look, man, I ain't had nothing to do with it.
I mean... I might know who did, though.

You practically running this place.
Who else could it be?

It ain't about what happened,
you understand?

It's about using what happened
to our advantage.

- Play or you gonna get played.
- I need to know that you ain't do that shit.

I already said it.
You ain't gonna believe it, fuck it.

You can tell yourself I spiked it
but be grateful that you still standing.

Once you done that, we can talk about
how to shave some of these years off.

Not just for me, for you, too. They're looking
for the motherfucker that brought it in here.

They need him to fall. And you know what?
I can give you a name, the right name.

We can take that name down to the Assistant
Warden. We can get some of our lives back.

You dig?

So stay close.

This play on the inside,
this play on the outside. We got it all covered.

I don't want no part of what you do no more.
You hear me?

So you can just leave me the fuck out of that.
Whatever it is.

Anyone seen Omar?

We're back in.

Six ships in one day.

Ain't seen the terminal this busy in months.
Feels sweet.

Shit, look at this pretty bitch.

- What the fuck are you wearing?
- Italian leather, all right?

In winter on the goddamn docks?
How much did that shit cost?

- Two grand.
- Are you out your fucking mind, Zig?

- Fuck it.
- $2,000 for a single goddamn jacket.

Jesus, Zig, you need therapy and shit.

I figured an African-American would
understand how a player such as myself

needs to take heed of the latest fashions
but yous ain't got no fuckin' style neither.

See you.

- What?
- I told you about not spreading cash around!

Jesus Christ, Nicky, it's a fucking coat.

I can tell people
I'm paying for it on installments or whatever.

But you got to admit,
I do look pretty today. I do.

All right, straighten her up!

The Greeks wanna talk to us.

- Yeah, what about?
- How we did good by 'em.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

But for Christ's sakes, Zig,
keep your shit quiet

before half the waterfront's talking about us.

All right, no problem.

- All right. See you later.
- See you.

I want us to remember
the meaning of romance

If I've done something wrong

Give me one more chance,
oh-ho-ho-whoa-ho-ho

I promise, promise to be close

Oh, my darling, I have promised to give you...

Yo, quit it.

Gentlemen.

- We don't need that now.
- Say what?

I don't give a shit about drugs.

Littering pisses me off.
Pick that shit up when I'm gone.

I'm looking for a stick-up boy, name of Omar.
Dark-skinned guy with a scar down his face.

You boys would know him if you saw him
because he's got a shotgun about yay-long.

He'd put it to your head
and steal your shit without thinking twice.

Anyone know where he hangs?

Who he's running with?

- What he's driving?
- Fuck you, Officer.

The second package is weaker than the last.
It won't take the cut like before.

Fucking Atlanta shit costs more
and it's still not as good.

Came in at 25.
All we can do is sprinkle it and bag it.

Gonna lose my money? I lose my money.

- Step on that motherfucker.
- How hard?

- Make it ten.
- It's shit now.

I know.

The container itself leads us nowhere.
Fake addresses on either end.

Which leaves us the port itself.

Whatever went wrong on that ship

was known to whoever
should've picked that container up.

Which is why it stays on the dock.

Bottom line is, we need to know more
about cargo moving off that terminal.

How to do dirt
and how to hide when you're doing dirt.

Uh...

Bottom line for me is different. Bottom line
for me is, you guys should've held that ship.

- For your crime scene, for the whole case.
- Sir, the witnesses...

I don't care if they were speaking Mandarin
with a cocksucker's lisp,

they needed to see the inside
of an interrogation room.

We were in Philadelphia with no jurisdiction,

dealing with foreigners
and no probable cause.

Boys, I can only tell you
what it looks like from where I sit.

And from here, the view is
two of my detectives fucking the dog.

13 homicides - 14 if we connect
the floater - and all of them red.

What can I tell you? If this case doesn't fall,
we'll all be stepping on our dicks

trying to explain what happened.

Mmm?
So work it as you see fit but understand,

if I have to throw Burrell a scapegoat or two,
I got one to throw.

When you're alone, the going gets rough

Come back, come back, come back...

Fuck me.

I've had enough

Make me a queen...

He's my dream

Mm-mm-mm, mm-mm-mm...

So...what do you want to talk to us about?

If you are able to do like you did,
we have other things we can use.

- Like what?
- We shook things up snatching the cameras.

With expensive shit like that,
we gotta lay back for a while.

The stuff we need is not like that.

"Acetone, sulfuric acid,
potassium permanganate."

- Chemicals?
- Paint thinner, shit like that.

What do you need with those?
Pick 'em up at the hardware store.

No. We need much.

Metric tons. Five or ten tons. Check and
you'll see, they make these things here.

Send them from here.
Tanks and tanks down at your docks.

Good money for those.

How much?

How much chemical? Two tons? Four? Eight?

I'll look into it.

Yo, Bubbles!

McNulty!

My mainest man.

Get in the car.

Where you been at, brother?

What did you get?

A Walkman.

You know how it works, Bubs.
You'll need to pay taxes on this shit.

- Taxation without representation, you know?
- I don't want much. I need Omar.

Wild Omar?

You want us to wander around town looking
for a crazy motherfucker with a shotgun?

Him and me go way back. It's a friendly thing.

Then find the motherfucker without us.

No problem. Show me a receipt
for this shit, you're off the hook.

- Here.
- Keep it. Part of my tax.

Your tax is Omar.

I need a line by Friday, Bubs.

Fuck!

My client will provide information
as to the source of the tainted narcotics.

He can identify the method by which
contraband is smuggled in here,

- as well as those responsible.
- Cell block talk is cheap.

- He'll give you what you need to make a case.
- Your terms?

Mr. Barksdale has a first parole hearing
at 28 months.

We'd like to trim that to a year and have
your assurances of institutional support

for work release and early parole.

- One year on a seven-year bit?
- We're offering extraordinary cooperation.

Mr. Barksdale's placing himself at risk

by offering information implicating
other prisoners and staff at MCI.

And I would only add that
Mr. Barksdale's extant conviction is his first.

He has no priors whatsoever.

I recollect that a police got shot
behind Mr. Barksdale's business.

- No, sir.
- You don't remember that?

I remember the officer got shot
and being upset about that,

not only because the officer got shot
but because there'd be more police on me.

I thought, "Any time any fool do something
like shoot a police, it's bad on everyone."

And you know that my name ain't nowhere
on what happened to your friend.

I think what we're asking is reasonable
under the circumstances.

Until someone identifies
the source of the tainted heroin,

you could have another five overdoses
tomorrow or the day after.

Consider the offer.

But the next time we talk, an Assistant
Attorney General has to be in the room.

Tuna surprise?

For Christ's sakes, Ma,
I climbed all over two ships today.

How about a meal for that kinda day?

- Where's Pop?
- He's at the bar with the horses.

Go tell him it's dinner.

- We winning, Pop?
- Niko.

You up today?

I was doing good
but this year Gulfstream is killing me.

- Go easy. That's my inheritance.
- Mmm.

After 25 years, I'm still ahead almost 7,000.

You ought to let me take you up to Pimlico
when it opens. Try your system out for real.

- Too tempting.
- Just once.

Saw that the Cape Spruance
is over at Point West.

Yeah, we offloaded her today.

You know, we double-hulled her
down at number four.

Maybe two years
before the dry dock closed up.

- She still floats, huh?
- Of course she still floats.

You ever miss it, Pop?

Wouldn't do no good.

- What's for dinner?
- Tuna surprise.

You're loyal to your people.
I respect that, at least.

Don't worry, Burrell wants you on this detail
so I want you, too.

I need your approval for Freamon,
Greggs, and Hauk. They're all CID.

Correction.
You need my approval for everyone.

This may be Valchek's creation but the detail
is investigative and comes under CID.

If they work for me, they need my OK.

Good news is
I got no problem with anyone on your list.

Except McNulty. No McNulty.

Nothing that even resembles
the son of a bitch.

- That bad, huh?
- He quits or he drowns.

That's the only two things get him off
the fucking boat, so help me God.

You even know what this detail's about,
Lieutenant?

- Some kind of beef that Valchek has.
- Two Polacks pissing on each other's leg.

Yeah, I heard.

Anything to get you out of the basement,
huh, Lieutenant?

No! Kima, who cares?

We'll be there in five minutes
and they'll still be dumb-ass frat boys.

Think to yourself, "What would a lawyer do,
what would a lawyer say?"

Shakima Greggs, Esquire.
That's what I'm talking about.

Wait.

- Get your ass down, fool.
- Fuck you, lady.

I ain't no lady.

- Bitch, drive it or lose it.
- Let's get outta here.

Only the finest breeds can perform
this well, with this much heart and obedience.

Obedience that brings out the champion,
not only in show dogs... Look at that tiger go!

A third generation champion from Blackpool.

Even house pets that never knew
they had the blood of champions in them.

To perform at this level, an animal
has to follow orders without question.

Come on upstairs.

Jesus Christ!

Nothing's on this site.
Most of the chemicals are over at Fairfield.

- Who do we know at Fairfield?
- Ott's brother-in-law works there.

You might try and touch him.

- What do they want with those for, anyway?
- Beats the fuck out of me.

- Jesus, Ziggy, I'm sorry.
- Fuck, man, shit.

I didn't see you standing there
in all that sweet leather.

- What the fuck is wrong with you?
- Clumsy, I guess.

But, hey, you can steal a whole can full
of baby wipes and clean yourself up.

Fucking goof.

Dick.

Shit, Lieutenant, I promised.

Think my woman's gonna give a big cheer
when she hears? I was out the damn door.

- You don't know Cheryl.
- You don't know Marla.

Look, if you want, I could use you inside,
like we did Prez last year.

If I hear the music, I'm gonna dance.

I'll tell your wife if you tell mine.

In the car but not out in the open.

Yo, Rock.

Be subtle with it, man.

- You know what subtle means?
- Laid-back and shit.

- Good tunes, Pop?
- Yeah. Thanks for the 'phones.

I don't know, Bubs. I mean...

if you go rolling over rocks,

then you're gonna get bit by a snake, right?

Gotta pay that tax, Johnny.

I mean, you got to give
a working police his due.

- So Bee's working for Lamar?
- All of them work for Lamar.

He got that whole corner to hisself.

The stash is across the street
in the low-rises?

In the second court.

They got it up in this one place
that got boarded-up windows.

How many doors down from the end?

Three.

Yo, Pop.

Anyone got a line on that wild boy
who likes to pop the shotty?

- Omar?
- Yeah, I need Omar.

- What do you want with Omar?
- Just want a word with him.

Just a word.

You want to get with Omar,

you need to stand out on one of them corners
with a big-ass package.

You be talking to that nigger soon enough.

You feel anything?

Come on, let's go.

Come on.

The price of cooperation is an agreement
by the state parole officials

to move Mr. Barksdale's first parole hearing
forward 12 months

and to credit him with cooperation
in this matter.

You can't make a case on some con's say-so.
We need the dope on the table.

Of course you do.
If before the end of business today,

you effect a search of Officer Tilghman's
vehicle, locker and person,

- we are confident evidence will be recovered.
- You're confident?

As far as DOC is concerned, this is a fair deal
if it takes the overdoses off our plate.

- But if we come up empty on this...
- You won't.

Five will get you ten, that's the motherfucker
that spiked the packages.

You have proof of this? Then we make
the case that's there for us to make.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. New Orleans.

Lieutenant.

- Welcome to the Southeast.
- Major, I understand you asked for me.

My son-in-law can't say enough in your favor.

And, of course,
you did him a good turn last year, right?

- You want to tell me about this target?
- Frank Sobotka.

A union man down at the port.

The motherfucker's showing a lot of money.
My gut says a drug connection.

I can also tell you for a fact that his people

will up and steal anything
that isn't nailed down.

- You seen the off-site?
- Not yet.

- I told my people to meet here at the District.
- Pretty good digs. Come on, I'll show you.

It's from a young woman to her mother
or at least an older woman.

She mention any names?

There is an Anya here.

And from the way she writes,
I'm guessing it is a child.

It's almost ready, Father. Excuse me.

- So who's she writing to?
- There is no name.

The letter is for the whole family but uh...

Um...yes.

- She signs "Nadya." Her name is Nadya.
- Nadya.

- Is she in trouble?
- She's dead.

Is there anything to indicate
where these people live?

- If you had an envelope, I could...
- No.

The only thing she mentions is a church -

St. Volodymyrs, or St. Vladimir, and a priest.

- Father Vasyl, it says.
- There's no names or places or...

Across the water, Father Vasyl is a common
name and there are many St. Volodymyrs.

But leave the letter. I will try.

Thank you.

I'm saying, if there isn't enough work,
then you could do something else.

There's enough work.

The fact is I came into some back pay
I was owed from about a month ago.

A couple of thousand from the vacation fund.

Stop, Ash.

I was thinking, you know,
maybe this'd be the time for us to get a place.

You could cover that?

And maybe we don't rent.

Maybe we try and buy something
in the neighborhood. Nothing too big, just...

I heard Aunt Treesey's old place
up in Covington has been fixed up real nice.

You know, like with wood floors and all.

Hey, Ash, what's that ship right there?

- Cable ship.
- And what's the gray one next to it?

Military Sealift.

Attagirl.

You cold?

- Hey, Dwight?
- What's up?

- We have to search your vehicle.
- What the fuck?

Open it or I'll shim the lock,
maybe damage your ride.

You got no call to be doing me like this.
No call and no damn warrant.

You drive onto a DOC facility,
the vehicle's subject to search.

Where's the key, Dwight?

He'll be back from lunch any minute, Zig.
You hear me?

He sees you on that thing, he's gonna
break you down and sell you for parts.

Here it be.

Y'all planted that shit.

You fucking know you did.

- What's with the whistle squad?
- It's for us.

They marked us
when we stepped out of the car. That's him.

That's Horseface? How did he get that name?

You need a close-up?

- Thomas Pakusa.
- Yeah?

- We need to talk to you about something.
- What?

- You checked Atlantic Light two weeks back.
- If you say so.

Remember that container
that came off that day with all the dead girls?

- No.
- You don't remember the dead girls in a can?

- Come on, Horse.
- I remember you found them in the stacks.

- Not that they came off the Atlantic Light.
- Let's take a ride downtown, clear this up.

No.

- Get the fuck in the car.
- Am I locked up?

- Get in the damn car.
- If you want me in that car, lock me up.

And then I wanna talk to my shop steward
and he can have an IBS lawyer go with me.

Hey, Dad, what...
Jesus, Pop, what was that for?

Say cheese. You pull another stunt, I'll have
your card. I don't care who your mother is!

Get the fuck outta here!

Kind of smart for a fat man, isn't he?
All right, all right.

God damn it, Ziggy, you sick fuck!
Get your dick out of my computer!

Where are the first lot of detectives?

Dead. To me, anyway.

I shipped them humps back to Burrell
as fast as I could.

What kept you?

The beautiful thing about this department is
every brain-dead manages to land on his feet.

- How's it hanging?
- How are you doing?

- Where's Lester? We got him, too, right?
- Out on the street today with Homicide.

- Rawls will give him the bad news tomorrow.
- Not McNulty.

McNulty, they really hate. Not that I blame 'em.

You have Roland for the duration. Anyone
else from Southeastern you need, you got.

Well, I'll leave you to it, then.

Hey, Lieutenant, Carver's in Southeast now.
I think he's got Sector Two.

It'd be great to have Carver on this, right?

On what? We don't even know what the hell
we're supposed to be chasing.

No offense to your father-in-law
but it's real thin.

We run with the program for a few weeks,
maybe make a drug case or two.

Beats the hell out of ECU anyway.

Him and this lady have this daughter
who's born a mute.

The wife doesn't like that so she breaks out.
He's raising his daughter.

She has a period, freaks out, goes to him.
He thinks she was raped.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Jackpot. Uh...

That's about $10 worth
of bulk metal right there.

We haul it down to the scrap yard
and we're good.

We'll break our fucking backs on this.

Johnny, keep your eye to the ground.
I'm trying to school you here. OK?

This is good right here.

$10 right here.

Snitching, Bubs?

You be asking for me?

These headphones are great.
I'm gonna use them at the gym. Thanks.

- You hear the boys?
- No, it's quiet up there. A little too quiet.

- They're probably playing video games.
- Or with a book of matches.

So did you have a lawyer
look at the papers yet?

I did.

- And?
- He says I shouldn't sign it.

He says I'm giving away too much.

I would never pay that kind of support
and alimony if we went to court.

That's what he says.

Signed and notarized.

I don't wanna argue about the money.

I wanna get back together.

Yeah.

Yo, String, I was subtle with that.

...has led to drug distribution charges
against three inmates,

one who himself was incapacitated
by the tainted narcotics

and a correctional officer, a 10-year veteran.

I'm instructed
by the Corrections Commissioner

and the state's Public Safety Secretary

to announce that the maximum penalties
will be sought against this officer...

I got a mid-term. I gotta study.

- So this is their joint, huh?
- What's the plan?

Time to make it clear to these people
that we're not gonna go away.

You ain't gonna play that country shit, right?
I hate that country shit.

No. Not even Ray Charles
can save that mess for me.

No, sir.

Big Daddy Lipscomb was right tackle.
Your brain's gone to shit, Jessy.

Left tackle but you was too busy pissing
in your drawers to learn left from right!

Take your ass down to Shula's Steakhouse
and get an education.

Hey, darlin'.

- What's the deal?
- Just dropping in for one or two.

Then we take ourselves out of here.
How about you?

I'm leaving after this one.

You guys Port Police?
I don't recognize either one of you.

- City Homicide.
- Homicide? Who got killed?

- Those dead girls in the can.
- That was a accident.

That was a fucking accident.
That's what I heard, anyway.

Excuse me, excuse me.