All language subtitles for BL.S01E06.720p.WEB.h264

Previously on Bosch: Legacy.

Ida, Ida, Ida...

I don't know what I would do without you.

Nor I you, sir.

Sloan, what do you want?

Mr. Vance has shuffled off
this mortal coil.

Your services are no longer needed.

So I combed through
all of Wakefield's texts.

Last week, he sent Rogers
a photo of a blueprint.

A blueprint of what?

A 20x8 rectangular structure.

Any text?

Just the word "Plano."

That's a daisy chain of ANFO blocks.

Ammonium nitrate fuel oil.

They wired up their own tunnel?

It's a kill switch.

Destroy the evidence
with the push of a button.

-So what's the plan?
-Help 'em push it.

It's happening tonight.

How close do I have to get to Aslan
to grab a signal?

You steal the signal,
you toss it to me.

At the right moment,
I toss it to the tunnel.

Kablooey.

- Shit! Intruder!
- Coming your way now.

-Hold it right there!
-You got it?

Got it, got it, got it.
Here comes the hammer.

Boom.

Why don't you quit
beating around the bush

and tell me what you have in mind?

You walk into the U.S. Attorney's office
and confess.

To what?

You give them everything you know
about the Bratva

and hope that gets you some leniency.

Deal.

Mr. Kading.

I apologize for the late hour.

Check your client in to Club Fed?

Snug as a bug.

So what can I do for you,
Mr. Kading?

Here's the thing.

I don't trust the U.S. Attorney.
That office hates my guts.

They're gonna squeeze Carl
for everything he knows,

and then find some technicality
to renege on the deal.

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

Look, you call the U.S. Attorney,
he picks up the phone.

Me, not so much.

What do you want me to say?

Well, I want assurances.

I want him to stay in the safe house
for as long as possible.

I don't want the Feds asking the judge
to send him back to prison

the minute he walks in the courthouse.

He'll be a sitting duck.

Okay, this is me wiping away a tear.

Just deliver Rodgers,
do what the Feds tell you to do,

and don't be late.

Bitch.

All right. You mind?
I need to see my client.

I'll escort you.

The fuck you will. Privacy, please.

Hey.

Thought you were room service.

I'm glad you still have
that special sense of humor.

I'm glad this dump is temporary
'cause it has bed bugs.

Oh. Yeah, I'll speak to them about that.

Well?

Just be on time.

Our friend has the seal.

That's it?

That's more than enough.

Well, it better be.

♪ Oh, my, my, times are changin' ♪

♪ There's a fine, new day comin' round ♪

♪ It's a feelin' like
a cool rain comin' down ♪

♪ It's the rhythm of a new song singin' ♪

♪ It's the rhythm
of a new song singin' ♪

♪ Oh, my, my, times are changin' ♪

♪ Oh, my, my,
times are changin' ♪

♪ Oh, my, my,
I've been waitin' for this moment ♪

♪ Oh, my, my, oh, my, my ♪

♪ Times are changin' ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, my, my, times are changin' ♪

Makes me sick to my stomach
he might be getting a sentencing break.

Carl Rogers is confessing
to paying for four murders.

How lenient can the court be?

At his age,
he's going away for the rest of his life.

Still, it feels like
he's getting away with it.

We're talking about
a few minor privileges.

An extra hour of exercise,
maybe access to the prison library.

Mostly, the government guarantees
that he keeps breathing.

That's what I'm talking about.

He's getting away with it.

No one says it's perfect, Maddie.

But it is as much justice as we can get
given the circumstances.

This is where Detective Robertson
interviewed me the day you were shot.

Mm.

Thought you were gonna die.

And yet here we are. Still here.

Thanks to you.

Jasmine.

Do I know you?

Friend of Carl's.

I was just on my way out.

-Two minutes.
-Let's go inside.

-We can talk out here.
-Inside.

I haven't seen Carl in days.

Be precise.

Tuesday night. We had dinner at Jar.

Nothing since?

Son of a bitch hasn't answered my calls
or my texts.

I don't believe.

Check it if you don't believe me.

Pretty girls always think
they have benefit of doubt.

But not always.

You love your parents?

Yes.

Joe. Diane.

Dana Point.

I swear.
I don't know where he is.

Please.

Cockroach doesn't deserve you.

We crush him for you.

All teams, perimeter check.

Southwest perimeter clear.

You guys must be exhausted.
Out here all night.

That's the job.
What are you gonna do?

I just brewed a fresh pot.
How about a cup?

Does smell good.

Come get some.
Help you push through that last few.

Sure.

Whatever.

Use your bathroom?

Absolutely.

According to your pal Gustafson,

"Herstadt slipped through the cracks
in the justice system."

Those cracks being you and me.

He just can't admit he was wrong.

Meantime, no one's looking
for the real killer.

You volunteering?

Somebody has to.

I agree.

I wanna look at the discovery materials
from the case.

There is one problem with that.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.
It's privileged.

And since you don't work for me,

which you've made perfectly clear
on several occasions...

I want you to take this.

I'm paying you
to conduct an investigation

in support of a petition
for factual innocence.

If you believe
Jeffrey Herstadt is innocent

and that the killer
of Dr. Basu remains at large.

I do.

No one has to know.

Baba.

Come here.

What do we know?

No sign of him.

His whore hasn't seen him, either.

So, let's order.

No. Let's get to work.

Long flight. You must be hungry.

Russian food I can get in Russia.

Baba. Don't you want a bite first?

Let's find this scumbag.

Then we'll feast like Vikings.

Tommy's. Chili cheeseburger.

Original Tommy's. Original.

Original.

Of course.

Oh, come in.
I'm just finishing up an email.

I think that's a blueprint
of a shipping container.

How do you figure?

Wakefield had an app on his phone
called Voyage.

It's a cargo tracking system.

It shows real-time status
of global shipments.

That seven-digit number?

A tracking number?

I typed it in the app.

Huh. Two shipping containers.

South Bay. One in Long Beach,
one in Wilmington.

Both scheduled
to be picked up this afternoon.

Jesus H. Christ.

What happened here?

Fucking rookies.

No sign of him.

Fuck me.

Holy fucking shit!

Counselor.

What's this about?

Don't start with lie. Truth only.

Once chance.

Where in fucking world
is Carl Rogers? Hmm?

Bad news. Carl Rogers is in the wind.

How the hell did that happen?

He walked out of the front door
and disappeared.

Where were his minders?

Unconscious. Drugged, apparently.

Have you talked to his attorney?

Kading? He's MIA as well.

How fast can you file on Rogers?
Get a warrant for his arrest.

We're working on it.

He could flee the country.

Then the Feds will extradite him.

That blueprint off Wakefield's phone.
Matthew did some legwork.

It's a shipping container.

Plano is an export company.

There was a tracking number
just activated

for a pick-up
of two containers this afternoon.

Being delivered to where?

San Pedro.
A ship headed to Vietnam,

which has no extradition treaty
with the U.S.

I looked it up.

Where are the containers now?

One's in Wilmington,
the other is Long Beach.

We need to go now.

You take Long Beach.
I'll text you the info.

You shouldn't go alone.

Screw that. I'm headed to Wilmington.

Help you?

Hope so.

John Creighton. Trident Security.

Is there a problem?

Nothing we can't fix.

Chanson Trucking's a client.
They're picking up a box.

Dipshit driver forgot the seal.

So I had to come all the way down here
myself to sort this shit out.

Maybe I could slip one on,
save us all a headache with customs.

You got the I.D. number?

-Just the tracking.
-Let's see.

Sorry, pal, looks like they
already got it. About an hour ago.

Shit.

It's one of those modified containers.

With inspections and all,
driver probably wanted a head start.

Modified, huh?

Appreciate you showing me.

Always wanted to see
how these boxes got modified.

We import most of them from China,

then tailor them
to the clients' specifications.

-What kind of specs?
-Depends on what they want.

We usually outfit them
with two sides. Freezer, cooling. Here.

That little room's the freezer.
This here's the cooling.

Ventilation?

Fresh air exchange.
Evaporator fan.

It's all insulated, so once you set
the temperature, it holds.

Ritzy. Guy's asking about
one of the Planos.

Got picked up earlier.

Oh, that one.

What do you mean?
Was it any different?

Kinda. They didn't want a freezer unit,
just A/C and a thermostat.

I called the trucking company.
It's already on the ship.

Can we get on?

Not without a warrant.

With customs, once it's in port,
good luck.

All right, I'm calling the U.S. Attorney.

They'll put out a red notice.
That goes out globally.

If Rogers is in a fucking container,

they'll catch him
on the other side in Vietnam.

You heading back?

I can come your way.

No, don't bother. It looks like
they picked up the one here too.

Uh, I think I'm gonna wander a little bit.

I'll, uh, I'll let you know
if I find anything.

Roger that.

Son of a bitch.

Adios, asshole.

The world's a better place.

No question.

A little justice.

He got what he deserved.

If those Russians had caught me...

Be on your way to Hanoi too.

Where do you think they are?

My bet? They're gone.
On the red-eye back to Moscow.

Goes without saying.

This stays between us.

Absolutely.

Especially Maddie.

Goes without saying.

Ah.

Night.

Goodnight, Harry.

Still on for tomorrow?

Yes, please. I need a night off.
No cop talk.

Maybe a little bit.

Yeah, maybe a little venting,
a little whining.

All right, Boots, listen up.
Last chance for a spot on the team.

You know the drill.
A quick 10K through the park.

Time to beat is 45:55 for men,
56:31 for women.

Let's make Hollywood Division proud.

So I have a question.

10K is like six something miles.

Yeah, 6.2 and change.

And Baker to Vegas is 120 miles.

Yeah, through the desert.

-So that's like five marathons.
-Right.

So are you, like, fucking kidding me?

It's a team sport.

Paulina, it's a relay race
over two days and nights.

Nobody runs the whole thing.
That would be impossible.

I was gonna say.

Got it in you, Bosch?

Standing on my head.

Counting on it.

Ready and...

Let's go, guys.

You heard about Rogers?

A lot of egg
on a lot of Federal faces.

His attorney's missing too.

That doesn't bode well for either of them.

So his criminal case is on hold
until he turns up.

If he turns up.

Going ahead with the civil suit?

I need to talk to my client.

Well, she can still get a verdict at trial

and a possible judgement
against Roger's estate,

if they can find it.

Worth a try.

All right, let's go. Do it.

Nice hustle.
Way to push through at the end.

-What's the verdict?
-58:51. Just missed it.

Damn it. I knew I should have
pushed harder at the beginning.

One of the five alternates,
if you want it.

Uh, I don't know.

Hear the party in Vegas is epic.

Be a shame not to see you
bust some moves on the dance floor.

I'll think about it.

Oh, that sucked.

Yeah, you could say that again.

That sucked. Whoo!

This is off-the-charts weird.

What we have here
is a holographic will.

-Holographic?
-Handwritten.

Is that a problem?

Not per se.

In California, holographic wills
are accepted as legal instruments

upon verification.

Vance must have known that.

Well, that's why he sent you the pen.

"Last Will and Testament
of Whitney Vance.

Hieronymus Bosch,
sole executor."

Congratulations.
You must have done a good job for him.

It's not finished.
He may have an heir.

Well, who else knows you have this?

Vance's letter says he directed his
secretary, Ida, to send me the package.

I wonder if she knows what's in it.

Well, she is.
To the tune of $10 million.

No kidding.

Was it certified? I mean,
did you have to sign for it?

No, it was just stuffed in the box
with all the junk mail.

Maybe the best way to get it to you
under the radar.

The last time you saw Vance,
was he of sound mind and body

as he attests here?

Yeah, he was.

What do we do next?

Nothing, for now.
We lie low and wait.

You keep working your case.
Confirm Vance has an heir.

We see who makes a move,
see what the corporation does.

When they make their move,
we make our move.

But we have to safeguard the originals
at all costs.

We need to make copies. Decoys.

And what about this?
You sure it's the same one?

As far as I know.

All right, we need Ida to confirm it.
Verification every step of the way.

Chain of authenticity.

His pen,
his signature in the pen's ink.

Got it.

Billions of dollars on the line.

People will do anything
to get their hands on it.

That's what Mr. Vance said
when I took this job.

-Hey, big dog.
-Mm. Harry.

What's the good word?

Undetermined.

Really? He's 88 years old.

Tell me about it.

If the word "billionaire"
wasn't part of his name,

he wouldn't even have gotten an autopsy.

What's the red flag?

Slight petechial hemorrhaging.

So not natural causes.

As of now,
Ventura's not ready to call it.

Could be foul play.

That's your area of expertise.

Used to be.

You see that?

-Got it.
-What's the vehicle code section?

Twenty-two, four-fifty, A.

Call out the plate.

California license plate.
Three Tom Henry Ocean four seven nine.

It's clean. Light him up.

Freeze! Hey!

Shots fired!
Shots fired! My partner is down!

Oh, fuck.

I'm going.

Everybody in the station.
Officer down. Officer needs help.

- Ivar and Dix Street. Officer down.
-Shit. You got this?

What are you waiting for?
Go. Go, go.

Six-Adam-Forty-Five.
Officer needs help. Shots fired.

Shots fired. My partner is down.

Six-A-Forty-Five. Six-A-Forty-Five.
Oh, my God. Paulina.

Your partner rolled to the scene?

Yeah, I'm gonna catch a ride
with somebody else.

Another officer's
gonna add to the chaos.

So you want me to stay here, then?

Another set of hands.

Go see Sergeant Mankiewicz.
He'll give you your assignment.

Sir.

ETA on the RA. My partner's
breathing, but she's unconscious.

It's bad. It's bad.

Okay, listen.
RHD is going out to tell the family.

Poor parents.

When her folks open that door,

I don't think they should
learn about this from strangers.

You want me to make notification?

Be the liaison.
You're there if the family needs you.

I don't--
I don't know them.

But you know Paulina.
She's your fellow officer, right?

Mankiewicz.

Yeah.

All right, put him through.

This is Larry Magill.
We're following breaking news.

An LAPD officer has been shot
following a traffic stop in Hollywood.

Sources tell us the wounded officer
is a rookie female patrol cop.

Fuck!

The incident occurred near
the intersection of Yucca Street

and Wilcox Avenue
approximately ten minutes ago.

No, no, no, no.

Pick up. Pick up. Come on, Maddie.
Please, pick up.

Dad.

Mads. Are you okay?

I'm okay. Just shaken up.

What happened?

She's one of my classmates, Dad.

God. How bad?

Um, I'm hearing it's not good.

Where are you?
Are you at the scene? At the hospital?

At the station.

Listen.

They want me to help make notification.

What do I say?

You'll find the words.

I love you.

I love you too.
Keep me posted.

I promise.

Bye.

...as the story develops,
but in the meantime, officers...

Jesus.

This shit ends now.
These fucking people never give up.

What's the plan?

The plan?

You've done this before.

And it never gets easier.

All right, don't overthink it.
Just tell them what we know, all right?

Mrs. Calderon.

Yes, that's me.

Detective Dorsey.
Officer Bosch.

Ma'am, there's been an incident.

Please tell me she's okay.

Can we step inside, ma'am?
We'll give you the details.

What happened?

Officer Calderon
was involved in a shooting.

Oh, my God.

She's alive.

Paulina's alive.

Were you with her?

No, but your daughter's
been taken to Cedars-Sinai hospital.

She's being treated.

Take me to her, please.

Having trouble following me?
Want a copy my itinerary?

Where'd you burn us, at the bank?

What do you want, Creighton?

I want you to stand down.

Stand down from what?

Your employer died.
Your employment's terminated.

Speaking for the corporation,
stop what you're doing.

We even know what your attorney's doing.
We've been watching you.

I'll take it under advisement.

I don't think you understand
the position you're in.

Oh, yeah? What position is that?

You're on very dangerous ground.
You need to make careful decisions.

I represent people who reward those
who make careful decisions.

You know what,
that sounds like a threat or a bribe,

or maybe both.

Take it any way you want.

If I were still a cop,

I'd arrest you for threatening an officer
and attempted bribery.

But you're not.

Wonder if she'll come back.

I wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

Having second thoughts?

About the job?

Wouldn't blame you if you were.

No.

I was just wondering.

How she's doing,
what went wrong.

Maybe she did everything right
and it still went wrong.

That's a sobering thought.

Yeah, it is. But shit happens.

You got shot and came back.

I did.

You never talk about it.

'Cause it's not that interesting.
Maybe some other time, Mads.

I wanna know what it felt like.
I wanna know what she's going through.

I was part
of an LAPD FBI joint task force.

We were working a string
of bank robberies and murders.

Bad guys were using the tunnels that run
under the city to pull off their capers.

Oh, man, that sounds
like something out of a movie.

Yeah.

Is that--?

Needless to say,
they completely fucked it up.

That's how you bought the house.

Yeah.

I could use another windfall about now,
fix it up.

Maybe somebody will do a remake.

Anyway...

Yeah, anyway,
so we finally catch him in the act, right?

Downtown bank. Big shootout.

Killed two, captured two,
and two slip off into the tunnels.

So I go in after 'em.

Why didn't you wait for backup?

No time.
They would have escaped.

Dad, if I did something like that,
you would pitch a fit.

Do as I say, not as I do.

My partner knew where I was.

You wanna hear
the rest of the story or not?

So you're tracking the bad guys...

Down in the tunnel,

looking around with my flashlight,
for a while, it feels like hours.

No idea where they are.

And then I trip over one 'em.

Oh, man, how scary is that?

Well, he's dead, right.
Wounded in the shootout.

So I move past him and I'm
going around the bend in the tunnel,

and his partner is waiting there for me.

One shot.

Sounded like a fucking cannon.

Hit me like a freight train.
Knocked me on my ass.

Shattered my shoulder blade,
collarbone.

Did it hurt?

Hurt like a bastard.

So I started going into shock.

Daddy. Holy shit.

I heard footsteps. This fucker
is coming back to finish me off.

So I'm lying there
and I'm thinking holy shit, right?

Is this it? Is this where it ends?
Is this is where I buy it?

On my back and in a fucking sewer.

I close my eyes.

Then two shots.

Bad guy falls down dead
right next to me.

And then all of a sudden,
out of nowhere, like an angel,

I hear this woman's voice
telling me everything is gonna be okay.

Your FBI partner.

That's right.

Eleanor Wish.

Your mother.

Fuck, she saved your life.

She did.

Is that why you married her?

That and I'd already
fallen in love with her.

I just didn't know it yet.

I miss your view.

I miss her too.

-J. Edgar.
-Harry.

Great to see you, brother.

Good to see you.
You look good.

Can I get that in writing?

How's RHD?

Busy. This cop shooting.

You working it?

All hands on deck.
You remember.

Yeah, I do.

How's Maddie doing?

She's holding up.

She know the officer?

They were in the academy together.

That's rough. Give her my love.

Will do.

This for me?

I'll reach out when I need it back.

I'll book it into evidence
for one of my cases.

It'll be safe.

Great to see you, brother.

Good to see you too, brother.
Be safe.

You too.