All language subtitles for rabbit.hole.s01e06.hdr.2160p.web.h265-ggez_track3_[eng]

Multiple protests
around the country

as the Shared Data Act meets
resistance on Capitol Hill.

HAYDEN:
You want to stop the Data Act?

Then we need to show up.

BEN:
We should kill that Kyle kid.

He could be working for Crowley.

And he might just be
an innocent FBI informant.

Who are you?!

All the political donations
and PACs

that Intaverse Media gives
money to are publicly available.

I looked at
the executive level donations.

They only ever contributed
to one politician

on a regular basis-- Senator
Nora Evers of New Jersey.

- Cover your ears!
- What?

- (rapid gunfire)
- (groaning)

What did I miss?

You're missing
the most obvious version.

- That Valence sold us out.
- Stop saying that!

- He knew where all
the safe houses were.
- He didn't do it.

- This was not the plan.
- Shut up!

WEIR:
Miles, no!

It was you.

You were the last person
to talk to Valence.

Why the fuck
didn't you tell me?

If I told you that,

I would have had
to tell you everything else.

WEIR:
What else is there to tell?

BEN:
Your team--
they're dead, all of 'em.

("El Santo Negro"
by Antonio Maravilla playing)

CROWLEY:
Truth is,

our democracy works no different

than any of these shitholes
we traffic in.

Are we really going to have
this conversation right now?

Yeah! Look at this.
We've been grooming this guy

- for months, Ben.
- I told them no heroin.

But they don't listen.

We find our sap to kill
El Comrade Generalissimo.

We break him, program him,
rebuild him.

- Hold on.
- Blood, sweat and tears.

- It's hard, right?
- Yeah.

Then the day before the hit,
this shit happens.

BEN:
We'll figure
something else out.

Yeah. I'm sorry, Langley.

No president this year.

What does any of this have to do
with democracy?

Oh, stop it, will you? Please.
How many times...

Araña talks the talk
we feed him,

but how long
before he figures out

how things really work
and then sells out?

He'll control all the wealth
and resources

this country has to offer.

At the end of the day,
the only thing

you need to ask yourself is,

"Why are we giving control
to men like him

when we could be selling it
to the highest bidder instead?"

Or, hell,
taking it for ourselves.

You're fucking crazy.

(Crowley laughs)

Time for change.

(sighs)

What about this one?

♪ ♪

(indistinct, overlapping
news broadcasts)

(distorted, indistinct speech)

Because safety has a price.

Security takes a huge toll.

And those who say they prize
privacy over all things,

I have to ask--
what do you have to hide?

(applause)

NEWSMAN: Evers' staunch support
of the Shared Data Act

was thought to be a weakness
for her campaign,

as the bill has struggled
its way through the Senate.

The public is wary of the plan,
so the question now is

if her inexplicable surge
in the race can continue.

NEWSWOMAN: Once the clear
front-runner, the former

vice president abruptly
abandoned his campaign today.

NEWSMAN 2: A field full
of contenders has dwindled

to just a few after yet another
candidate has dropped out

for unspecified
personal reasons.

Are you tired of living in fear?

The Data Act
isn't about privacy.

It's about eliminating fear

and making this the safest

and most powerful democracy
in the world.

(applause and cheering)

(crowd chanting indistinctly)

♪ ♪

BEN:
Johnathan?

Are you okay?

I'm thinking maybe
I should just go ahead

and do your part of this.

No, no. We stick to the plan.

No, you killed the plan.

All right.

I'm sorry.

Okay?

I'm sorry. I must have said it
a thousand times.

No, actually, this is
the first time you've said it.

Doesn't matter. I just
want to be done with this.

And then what?

Johnathan?

It matters to me
what you think of me.

You really must have been
something back in the day.

Problem is I just
don't believe you anymore.

HAILEY (on comms):
She's coming your way, Ben.

(indistinct chatter)

BEN:
Oh, people, you have to move.

Can't be here.
Please, please. All right.

Um, this is her. The rest
of the motorcade got delayed.

What the fuck? The senator's
already running late.

They should have been here
ten minutes ago.

- How's this even happening?
- Oh,

well, you know,
a madwoman out front

caused a bit of a traffic jam.

- (horns honking)
- (indistinct shouting)

But we're working
on getting your people here

as fast as possible.

- Oh...
- (Evers speaking indistinctly)

What the fuck, Lanneman?
Is this Billy?

Yes, ma'am. We're just waiting.

Yeah, I'm not waiting.
You wait for the others.

I'll see you all at 6:00.

(siren wailing in distance)

(engine starts)

Billy, tell me
we have more wine.

Who the fuck are you?

I just want to talk.
Don't be afraid.

Who said anything
about being afraid?

WEIR:
The money loops

through every
anonymous financial entity

on the planet.

Someone has been illegally
feeding millions of dollars

to you and your campaign,
and we can prove it.

Come on, Senator.

You want the White House,
go get it.

All I want--
the man pulling the strings.

- No.
- Excuse me?

- (chuckles)
- This is enough
to take you down.

Enough?

Enough?

What you have-- it'll dominate
one news cycle, sure.

Hurt my chances? Maybe.

I have to stay a senator
for a more few years,

then try again? Boo-hoo.

It's nothing compared
to what they have on me.

One day, they send a car for me.

I'm blindfolded,
taken to a location.

I'm shown a safety deposit box
with a briefcase inside.

It's a metal one,
right out of the movies.

And inside are materials.

Hugely compromising materials.

Let's just say
that if that gets out,

anyone who's got my last name--

they're gonna change it
to something else.

I hear his gravelly voice
in my sleep.

And I regret ever
playing ball with him.

But there's no way
I'm gonna help you.

If we helped you get your case
back, would you help us?

Yes, but it's not gonna happen.

I was blindfolded.

I know the number of the box.

I have no idea
where the vault is.

You said you were picked up
from where?

- 3rd and D.
- Surface streets or highways?

Do you think
you left the city?

Surface. I assumed
that I was still in the city.

I heard a food cart nearby.

HOMM:
It was 1550 Girard.

Let me guess, it smelled
like chicken and garlic

and it was a Tuesday.

1550 Girard is an ultra-secure

private depository
used by shady rich people.

Uh, cartels, tax cheats,
criminals, money launderers.

It's kind of famous in my world.

Arif's Shawarma is there
on Tuesdays.

Well?

Can you do it, Weir?

You obviously have
a very talented team.

Mr. Heston,
welcome to 1550 Girard.

Ronald Kolgin.
So sorry to keep you waiting.

Not a problem.

And will you be joining
Mr. Heston

on the tour of the facility
today, Mister...

BEN:
You agreed to a chaperone?

Store-brand G.I. Joe over there?

- WEIR: It got handled.
- BEN: What were you thinking?

- I should have been there.
- I told you, it got done.

You didn't think I can
go on tour and take notes?

- Didn't have a choice.
- There's always a choice.

You don't get
to say that to me now.

We handled it. Get over it.

No one's talking to you.

He's really gonna fuck us.
You realize that?

LANNEMAN:
I could say the same thing
about you.

Whatever's in that briefcase
is too valuable

to trust to you criminals.

It doesn't leave my sight.

And you're gonna protect it like
you did your boss lady? Yes?

Respect me, Grandpa.

I'm the only one here
who knows the box number,

so you don't have a choice.

He is definitely gonna fuck us.

WEIR:
No one is getting fucked.

The senator's gonna get
what she wants,

she's gonna give us Crowley,
and then it's done.

What's he got on her?

You can tell me. Pee-pee tapes?

Oh. Scheiße tapes. Pew.

So, what's my part?

- Nothing.
- What?

I don't want anyone
getting hurt.

You're cutting me out?

You and Homm are in the van.

John, you can't do this
on your own.

Well, I'd love to call my team
and get some help,

but someone got them killed.

You and Homm--
in the fucking van.

Uh, that go for me, too?

No. You're with me.

The client has to sign
into their system,

enter their box number.

Once they've been verified,

they're given a specific route
to the vault.

That's because
the entire place is covered

in infrared motion sensors.
You get an escort.

As long as you stick
to the prescribed route,

none of the alarms
get activated.

But if you don't...

- And our state-of-the-art...
- (alarm blaring)

Sorry. My-my bad.

...the entire place goes
immediately into lockdown.

That's okay.
CP-1. Accidental trigger.

Reset.

- (chime)
- (alarm stops)

Wow. Interesting system.

The best.

We have something for you
in the 800 section,

as per your request.

Thank you.
Eight's my lucky number.

Now, by the time
you finally get to the vault,

it's old school.

Takes two keys to open the door
to access the box.

The clients and the escorts.

Three, two, one. Turn.

WEIR:
To avoid diving

deep into the minutia,
the simple version:

we walk in with an identical
case to the one in the vault,

distract the escort,
switch the cases out,

and walk out the front door.

HAILEY:
(scoffs) Is that all?

How-how are you gonna
get the keys?

Well, I'll have
to pick one lock

and then I'll use a copy
of the master key

for the other one.

A copy?
How are you gonna do that?

Already did.

You'll have your own key,

and your escort will hold on

to the master.

WEIR:
It's actually not that hard.

Scale a photo, trace it
to a blank, cut the key.

- Slick.
- But you still
haven't told me what...

- what you want me to do.
- Well,

given a large percentage

of their clientele
is morally questionable,

in order to use their facility,

we have to make
a $20 million deposit

in escrow
for the duration of our visit.

Oh. No.

- No. No!
- You'll get it right back.

You think
you can just use my money?

Hailey, it's not your money.

It's absolutely my money.

Oh, my God. Are you serious?
We're gonna be long gone

before they even realize
that they've been robbed, okay?

So as soon as I'm out, I promise

I will give it
right back to you.

If you get out.
What if it goes wrong?

It's not gonna go wrong.

I know how their system works,
and more importantly,

I know how their people work.

It's gonna be fine.

Oh, fuck.

SHAW: I know I've talked
about Edward Homm before.

But to quote the Dude,
"New shit has come to light."

Remember this guy--
the one wanted for killing Homm?

- Mm-hmm.
- That's John Weir.

Most wanted guy
on the eastern seaboard.

Well, my deep state contact,
Zaius, hipped me

to a news story about a shootout

in Upstate New York at a motel
just a few days ago.

Wasn't a ton of good video.
See?

But Zaius said
the government processed it

and said it was this Weir guy.

Now my boy Benzo here's
pretty good with the Photoshop.

He did a little up-rezzing,
little sharpening.

Look what he came up with.

Check it.

- SHAW: Same profile, right?
- Mm-hmm.

SHAW:
Same hair? Convincing?

Now look here.

There's an old guy with him
and a lady,

but who's this here?

He could be Asian, right?

- Word.
- Right?

Is that Edward Homm?

I don't know.

But Zaius also said,
"Call the morgue."

And guess what? It turns out

Ed's so-called body
was accidentally cremated

before
it could be DNA-tested.

- (laughing)
- Are you shitting me? I mean,

you think this shit's
some kind of a coincidence?

So, look, here's what I think.
I think Ed is not dead.

I think Ed stumbled
onto something really big,

and had to go underground to...

This is not good, right?

BEN:
What?

I said this-this probably
isn't very good, right?

Well, he's a lunatic.
Nobody listens to him.

He's got 23,000 hits.

(scoffs)

How's your wound?

Uh, it's gonna scar for sure.

How's yours?

Just part of the job, right?

We're not blood brothers
or anything.

(laughs)

Okay.

You think Shaw really has, uh,

an informant in the government?

Sure. Same guy
who shot the moon landing

in that studio in Area 51.

It doesn't matter.

They think
we're in Upstate New York.

Okay.

(taps key)

SHAW:
I'm telling you Ed is not dead.

HOMM:
He's got 31,000 hits.

Ed is not dead.

Yeah, he's also got
a pretty cool street food blog.

Sick. Yeah.
Bet you didn't know that, huh?

Phones in the Faraday bags.

They don't come out
until the job is over.

NSA's not the only one
parsing metadata.

I need you, I call you on that,
and you answer.

One unauthorized ping
in the system,

I send in The Janitor
and his bone saw.

MAN:
Yes, sir. So, what's the job?

You're going out of town.

Open.

Hey.

I need you to load in
your crypto wallet info,

make a transfer.

(sighs)

(chuckles softly)

How's this for what-ifs?

What if, uh,

this whole thing--

everything that has happened

up until now--

the bar,

the hotel, the safe houses,

Crowley, everything--

what if all of it

is engineered to...

to get me to this very moment?

All of it created
to make me give you

all of my money?

I mean...

it's what you do, right?

Yeah.

(Hailey sighs)

(short chuckle)

- All I got is your word.
- Mm-hmm.

(chuckles)

Pretty ironic, huh?

That's all I've got
to give right now.

HAILEY:
Fuck it. I'll do it.

Thank you.

You should get some sleep.

Yeah, I know.

Just-just... close your eyes.

Okay.

(footsteps departing)

You know, we got a few
thousand square feet here

if you want
to find your own space.

I told you
I'm not taking my eyes off you.

I'm good right here.

Awesome.

♪ ♪

You think he's trying
to reach Valence?

Maybe he had
a back channel going.

He hasn't slept
in a couple days,

but emailing a dead friend

is a level beyond exhaustion.

No. He's-he's just
not thinking clearly.

I mean, it happens sometimes.

He calls it
"going down the hole."

He needs help.

- Psychological help?
- Eventually, yeah, but

right now, I just...

I just mean he needs me.

I should be with him on this op.

I'll keep an eye
on him tomorrow.

You're going and I'm not? Huh.

And he thinks I'm the one
who's gonna hurt somebody?

And he's trying
to contact a dead man.

Did he tell you the plan?

Hmm?

What is it?

I'm worried about him,
too, you know.

But if there's a problem
with this plan,

you don't have the experience
to see it,

much less Evers' body man.

And he'll cross you,
both of you.

This is what I do.

I can help.

(soft chuckle)

I see what you're doing there.

Using your reverse psychology
or whatever.

Playing on my empathy.

I am not playing.

He's my son.

Mm-hmm.

Good night.

(cheering, applause)

The Shared Data Act is just

another way they dehumanize us.

- (cheering)
- We are like

these flesh and blood puppets,

and they've got their hands
up our asses

and they're pulling the strings,

while we work and we work

and they kill the planet.

We kill for them!

And all the while,
it's their shit

and blood-covered hands
pulling the strings.

- (cheering)
- Yes!

Then they pull it out, they
shake the blood in our face

and leave us in a heap
on the floor.

I'm not okay with that.

Are you okay with that?

- (crowd voicing dissent)
- So what do we say?

Take back your life!
Take back your life!

And now what do we do?

- MAN: Kill your master!
- WOMAN: Kill your master!

- (crowd chanting): Kill your
master! Kill your master!
- HAYDEN: Yeah!

Kill your master!
Kill your master!

ELIZA:
Baby, are-are you
really going to?

KYLE:
Of course I am.
Are you out now?

- Just make up your mind.
- Oh, baby, come on.

I mean, I just...

Baby, I've never
done anything like this.

Well, you can help me,
like you said,

or you can get out of my way.

Okay?

Look, I need to do this for me.
Okay? I-I... I just...

I can't live like this anymore,
you know.

I just want my life back.

I want to help you, baby.
Really, really...

Baby, I do. I do, baby.

(mumbles, gasps)

Ky. Kyle. Kyle, stop.

Stop. Just,
I want to help you, baby.

Really, just...
Just, baby, just stay.

Just stay. (gasps)

You know,
just fucking forget it!

Okay? I'll just do it myself.

I shouldn't have even told you.

- Just forget
you know anything about me.
- (crying)

- Okay?
- No, no, wait, baby, just...

Kyle. Kyle. Kyle!

No, just wait, just...

Okay, I'll help you!

Just-just...
just don't leave me.

Ky... Don't leave me.

Don't leave me!

- Hey.
- Kyle.

- Kyle. Kyle.
- It's okay. It's all right.

WEIR:
Today's the day.

Lanneman and I will go in firs,

take possession of our new box,
make a deposit.

With $20 million in escrow,
we can sign in,

at which point we will be
escorted to the vault.

You'll come in after us, take
a tour as a potential client.

By that time,
we should be in the vault.

Lanneman will distract
the escort and make the switch.

- (whispering): Which one?
- 844.

WEIR:
None of which can be possible

until the alarm system's
been defeated.

- (alarm blaring)
- And that's gonna be your job.

Wait, what? I...

I... How am I gonna do that?

I don't know alarms, computers,
any of that.

- You don't have to.
- I don't?

The weakest element
to any system

is always gonna be
the human element.

All you need is this.

A pen?

An infrared laser pointer.

- Oh.
- Invisible to the naked eye.

Oh... my God.

KOLGIN:
So sorry to keep you waiting.

Are you ready for your tour?

1550 Girard is the country's

preeminent
private sequestering facility.

We pride ourselves
on both our discretion

and our
state-of-the-art security.

- (beep, alarm blaring)
- (gasps)

- What is this?
- LANNEMAN: W-Why

- is the door closing?
- It's okay. It's okay.

He suffers from PTSD.

- Claustrophobic.
- Jesus.

You'll be all right.

CP-7. Sensor error. Reset.

- (chime, alarm stops)
- I'm so sorry.

That has only happened
once before...

(beep, alarm blaring)

CP-7. Sensor error. Reset.

Oh, Jesus.
Open the door.

Can we ask them if they could
open the doors as quickly

as possible, please?

- (chime, alarm stops)
- Great.

My deepest apologies, ma'am.
I can assure you that

- that has never...
- (chime, alarm blaring)

Oh, come on.

I-I... I should probably

take my valuables
to Eatonhurst like I...

Oh, one moment.
Uh, if you could literally

bear with us for one minute,

we'll reboot the system
and everything will be fine.

Kolgin. F Protocol.
Hard reboot the system.

Authorization GMRC-781.

- LANNEMAN: Open the door.
- Kolgin. Repeat,

- hard reboot.
- (stammers) Open the doors!

- Sir, you can't do that.
- Oh, the hell I can't.

- Open the doors.
- GUARD: Initiating.

All doors will remain shut

until all sensors
and cameras are back online.

It'll be less than
a minute, sir. Please.

I was locked in a box in Iraq,

and I'll be goddamned
they do it to me again!

No one is gonna lock you up.

We don't want
the smoke alarms triggered

- as well, sir...
- You're not gonna lock me up!

Open the doors!

They killed

everyone else in my unit.

Shot 'em in the head.
They killed my whole team!

Open the doors!

GUARD:
18 seconds.

15 seconds.

- It'll just be 15 seconds.
- I...

I heard, thank you.

- Open the door!
- Take it easy!

- Take it easy?
- Nine.

- You don't understand.
- Seven,

- I almost died in that box!
- six, five,

- They killed everyone else
in my unit.
- four, three.

- Two, one.
- HARLAND: Sir, please,
take it easy.

- (beep)
- GUARD: Back online.
All systems nominal.

I'm very sorry.
We should just lock up.

(whispers): I'm never seen him
react like that.

Three, two, one.

Uh, apologies.

All better now.
It won't happen again.

- Does this happen often?
- No.

But better the alarms are overly
sensitive than not enough.

- Should we see the vault?
- WEIR (on comms): Hailey,
we got to go.

- Wait. What?
- I fucked up.

I left a key in Crowley's box.
We've got to get out of here

before they discover it.

Miss Wolcott.
The vault?

WEIR:
Hailey, we got to go.

Let's get you checked out.

KOLGIN:
Miss Wolcott, should we go see

the vault?

Okay. Let's see this vault.

Is there a problem?

One second.

You will receive your,
uh, own key,

and your escort will

hold on to the master.

Walking through
the opening protocol.

You, uh, can choose a box

or one will be chosen for you.

- (alarming blaring)
- Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
- For fuck sakes.

Sorry.

(Kolgin sighs)

CP-7 sensor error. Reset.

- Reset. Reset!
- GUARD: Resetting.

(beep, alarm stops)

(sighs)
I'm sorry, ma'am.

I didn't mean to curse, but you
really need to be more careful.

Your, uh, pen.

(on comms): I've got it.

Well?

Like clockwork. (panting)

- Where's Weir?
- Right behind me.

Thank you for your patience.
You're good to go, Mr. Heston.

Thank you.

LANNEMAN:
Hell of a performance.

Well done.

Thank you.

By the way, do you know Pete?

Who's Pete?

LANNEMAN:
That's Pete.
Give him the briefcase.

HAILEY:
Oh, shit.

Fuck. I knew it.

BEN:
I knew it. I knew it.

I told you this was
going to happen.

- Calm down. It's fine.
- You okay?

Yeah.

The briefcase you walked in with
was a decoy, right?

You gave Lanneman the decoy,

you put the real one
back in your box.

Guess I should go back in
and get it.

Hey.

Thought you might want
to look in on your money.

You got to hand it to me, Weir.

That was black-belt level,

110% trust on my part.

Pretty fucking impressive,
if you ask me.

Yes, it was. And thank you.

You saved my ass back there.

'Cause I screwed up, and...

I wouldn't be standing here
if it wasn't for you.

And I put you in a position
you should never have been in,

and if something
had happened to you,

I would never have
forgiven myself. So, I'm...

I-I'm sorry.
Honestly, I...

I don't know what happened.

You showed that
you're an actual human being,

capable of fucking up.

And asking for help.

And apologizing.

Hmm.

- What?
- (soft chuckle)

I want to kiss you.

(laughs softly)

(laughs)

Yeah.

A friend once told me...

...everybody's a sucker
for confidence.

(line ringing)

WEIR:
Senator?

Oh, you're fucking good, Weir.

I guess you own me now.

- What is it I can do for you?
- Same rules as before.

You give us everything we need

to find our guy,
you get your case back.

Meet at 3:00 p.m. sharp.
I'll text you the address.

Damn, I'd love
to see her face right now.

- (laughs)
- (line ringing)

- KYLE: Yes, sir.
- Are you in position?

- Almost.
- Well, hurry up.

Every second matters
in this game.

The master dies today.

Bring the car around.

You ready?

Ready, baby.

(indistinct chatter)

(speaking indistinctly)

♪ ♪

(phone rings)

John? John, phone.

Thanks.

Senator.

- We're gonna be
a little bit late.
- (cheering)

Why? I said 3:00 p.m. sharp.

My people--
they added a stump speech.

- That is not a good idea.
- Oh,

don't be dramatic.

- I'll be there.
- (gunshot)

- (people screaming, shouting)
- LANNEMAN: Senator!

Senator!

Senator?

(gun clatters)

Senator? Goddamn it!

Got him in my sights.

Do it.

The fuck just happened?

(gunshot)

♪ ♪

NEWSWOMAN:
MPD has recovered a gun

and the shooter
remains at large.

Now, we've received footage
from the scene.

View discretion
is strongly advised.

- (gunshot)
- (screaming, clamoring)

- Oh, my God.
- In related news,

the Senate majority leader
has called

for an immediate vote
on the Shared Data Act.

The bill Senator Evers herself
was championing.

The once troubled legislation
will be brought

to the floor
as soon as possible,

and the polls are showing
strong bipartisan support.

Goddamn it!

- Crowley.
- BEN: Yeah.

Why would Crowley
kill his own candidate?

'Cause this wasn't
about winning the presidency.

This was about passing
a piece of legislation

that the senator campaigned on.

All he had to do was
have her assassinated.

Reshape the narrative.

Bright young senator
cut down in her prime

by the radicals she promised
to protect us from.

Turn her into a martyr, guaranteeing

that her legislation would pass.

When that happens,

Crowley gains access
to thousands of data points

on every single American
with a cell phone

or a computer.

He can control anyone.

Anything.

♪ ♪

- You did so great, baby.
- Mwah.

- Thank you so much.
- (chuckles)

I love you.

I do. I love you.

You know, you're perfect.

Like, I knew it
from the day we met.

Well... (chuckles)

Just took so long to find you.

(European accent): You know
how many girls' Facebooks

we had to scrape
in order to find someone?

(giggles) What's wrong
with your voice, baby?

You know, with the right mix?
Passion for politics,

- Hey.
- angry.

You know, so lonely.

Struggles with mental illness.

No attachment disorders.

- Wait, Kyle...
- Most importantly, someone

I could stand to fuck.

- Kyle...
- With enough data, you can make

people do whatever
you want them to.

It's funny,
you haven't been on your meds

- for almost six months now.
- (whimpering)

'Cause I started
changing them out.

And then, little by little,

now you're
basically homeopathic.

And like he said, you know,

"Make her... make her need you,"
he said.

(grunting)

You know,
"Like she needs oxygen."

And then I started
hitting the dog

and I started petting the dog.

Like, "Oh, I love you," or
then I kind of, like, hate you,

you know...

"I'm leaving, I'm staying."

He said...

"When you hand her the gun,

"She'll take it
because she wants to.

And because she loves you."

You know?

(exhales)

You know, "And then we'll make
sure she gets away clean,

'cause we don't
want to get caught."

You know? And then

spilling the beans.

(chuckles)

You know, "spilling the beans,"
that's...

that's another one.

(chuckles)

L-O-L.

- Okay.
- (engine starts)

NEWSMAN:
We just received word

Senator Evers, after being
in critical condition,

has passed away this afternoon.

Fucking bastard.

Preliminary reports
have identified the shooter

as Eliza Wells of New York Cit.

Her social media presence
shows a person deeply entrenchd

in fringe political causes.

And in at least one post,
she mentions her struggles

with depression
and bipolar disorder.

Straight out
of the patsy playbook.

MPD are still searching for her

and are asking if anyone
has any information

to please contact them immediately.

Eliza Wells was
last seen on foot,

running from the park
moments after...

♪ ♪

(newswoman speaking
indistinctly)

♪ ♪

The brazen attack happened

in the middle of the day
at a political rally.

Senator Evers was airlifted
to the hospital,

but has since passed away.

This afternoon, the shooting
death of Senator Evers

- on the campaign trail
- (phone chimes)

along with her security agent
just hours ago

sent shockwaves
across the country.

The shooter
has been identified...

♪ ♪

Tell them I had no choice.

Miles, no!

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org