All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S10E17.720p.HDTV.x265-MiNX

Surprise.

You need a bodyguard.

I don't want a bodyguard.
I want a girlfriend.

Yeah, well, good luck with that.

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Hello!

Hey, Pinky!

"Swan Lake"!

It's the music for my recital.

Yes. Speaking of that...

Capezios!

Oh, my gosh.
They're beautiful!

Named after the Italian
shoemaker Salvatore Capezio.

He made shoes for Anna Pavlova.

Oh, my gosh, Pinky.

One of the greatest
ballerinas of all time.

These are custom, Pinky.

How did you do that?

Remember when you fell
asleep during that movie?

You know, the animated one?

I measured your feet.

Thank you, Pinky.

It's my pleasure, dear.

How are you, Harold?

How are you? You
sleeping alright?

You look a little tired.

Very perceptive, as usual.

It was quite a night.

What happened?

I had an intruder
at the bathhouse.

What? Who?

- Were you hurt?
- I'm alright.

It was a little bit touch
and go at the beginning,

but I came out on
top in the end.

And you had no
security, I'm sure.

Raymond, that's a mistake.
You have to prioritize...

Ah! I'm way ahead
of you, Harold.

I realize I have been
a little reckless

when it comes to my
personal well-being.

- Where's Chuck?
- I don't know. Something with his uncle.

I haven't spoken with
him in a week or so.

But here's a thought.

Maybe you could loan me Dembe,
just for a day or two tops,

while I secure
other arrangements.

Yes. Absolutely.

I'll inform Agent
Zuma. Pancakes!

- You're welcome!
- Thank you!

By the way, I looked into
that ship you told me about.

The Aubergine in the
Port of Baltimore.

It's owned by Transwisk
International.

They're a shipping firm
with a few dozen vessels.

The Aubergine carries

just over 11,000
40-foot containers.

Did you look at the manifest?

I did. Looks clean.

A few hundred companies total,

moving their goods
for distribution.

None of the companies were
under active investigation

or raised any red flags.

That, Harold, is
precisely the point.

What no one knows is that hidden

among those 11,000
containers are two

that most certainly are
not what they appear to be.

The company is called
Enteron Electronics,

a so-called mid-sized tech
firm headquartered in Florida.

Enteron isn't a real company?

Well, it's real in the sense

that it was issued a
certificate of incorporation

by the state of Florida,

it pays utilities and taxes,

but it's not manufacturing

and/or selling mainframes
and motherboards.

It's a phantom, a carefully
curated corporate identity.

I'm sure if you look,

you'll find Enteron
has over 200 employees,

a 25-year history,
stellar reputation.

But you're saying
all of that is...

False.

Who could do something
on that scale?

Our new Blacklister,

the Morgana Logistics
Corporation.

A criminal concern
that specializes

in making companies
appear legitimate.

Enteron Electronics and
that shipping company,

Transwisk International,
are just two of hundreds,

maybe thousands of
Morgana's creations.

Thousands?

Morgana secures

authentic documentation
from the government

and real vessels, trucks,
ships, and aircraft

with bona fide hull
and tail numbers.

And they manufacture
exceptionally detailed identities

for executives and employees.

And no law enforcement
agency's picked up on this?

Well, it's not
entirely their fault.

The numbers are overwhelming,

and many of the companies that
Morgana stands up are real

and conducting
legitimate business.

But enough are
fictitious and camouflage

for certainly the largest
criminal shipping conglomerate

in the United States.

You take down Morgana,

you'll end one of the
biggest criminal enterprises

in American history.

Where's Dembe?

With Reddington.

He's finally agreed
to more security.

Dembe's filling in
while Reddington

finds a more permanent solution.

According to Reddington,
Morgana Logistics uses

apparently legitimate companies
like Enteron Electronics

as a smokescreen to move
contraband around the country.

After your call, I did
some research into Enteron.

Their tax returns
show a net income

of about $14 million a year.

They have a website with photos
and bios of an executive team.

Even a receptionist
who answers the phone

at their corporate offices.

I wonder how she'd
stand up to questioning.

Well, she'd be the only one,
because the rest of them,

they don't exist.

Well, not as flesh
and blood, anyway.

Their photos were
generated by an AI program

that uses different
pieces of faces online

to make an amalgamation.

If those executives are fake,

how do they have real driver's
license or tax returns?

That's what
we need to find out.

Enteron is just
the first domino.

Morgana's the
brains behind this.

They're our target.

Well, according
to the Enteron manifest,

that ship's carrying
electronic components.

The problem is, there could be
anything in those containers.

With over 500 million
containers shipped every year,

only about 2% are ever
physically inspected.

So, what is
Enteron really moving?

I can't wait to hear that.

Could be live reptiles,
fake Louis Vuittons.

Or weapons. Or people.

The possibilities are
endless and quite concerning.

Ressler, Malik, get to the port.

I'll reach out to the U.S.
Attorney for a search warrant.

With Dorf and Hudson
off our backs,

seems like things are
finally going our way.

His name's Jordan Nixon.

He's a Special Agent working out
of the Richmond field office.

He should be here any minute.

Come on, Arthur.

We're investigating
an FBI task force.

You really think
someone from the Bureau

is gonna help us do that?

You'll see. We worked
a few cases together

when I was with the
US Attorney's Office.

That was a while
ago. A lot's changed.

I'm betting he hasn't.

One of the cases we made

involved a group of
FBI tactical officers

lying about how much
weight they seized

in a handful of drug raids.

He went after them
like a bloodhound.

Yeah, and I'm still
paying for it.

Made more than a few enemies
in the Bureau on that one.

- Thanks for coming, Jordan.
- Yeah.

I already feel like
I might be sorry.

This is my aide, Diane Atkins.

- Diane, meet Jordan Nixon.
- Hi.

Diane was just leaving.

Oh. Right. Very
nice meeting you.

Likewise.

So, it's like that, huh?

Even the support
staff can't stay?

I'm circling the wagons, Jordan.

Everybody's need-to-know
on this one.

What exactly do I need to know?

Task Force 8-3-6.

It's a covert Bureau operation.

I stumbled onto it doing
some budget review.

From what I can see, it's one
of the biggest expenditures

the agency's ever
sanctioned, and nobody,

I mean nobody, will tell me why.

Or how. Or who.

Maybe there's a good reason.

Yeah.

Or maybe it's a corrupt op

and a criminal use
of government funds.

All I'm asking for

is a reasonable amount
of transparency.

You're a congressman.
Issue a subpoena.

I did. And not just me.

I got Senator Dorf
to back my inquiry.

Cynthia Panabaker
and Harold Cooper

convinced a judge to quash it.

And when Dorf kept pushing?

They leveraged him.

- That's why Dorf stepped down?
- Mmm-hmm.

I'm onto something,
Jordan. Something real.

And if I'm right, it's
a stain on the Bureau.

I'm coming to you

'cause you've always been
one of the good guys.

Are you still?

What would you need?

Information. I can't
get it from the outside.

Maybe you can sniff out
some truth from the inside.

That's all I'm after, the truth.

My problem
isn't with the warrant.

My problem's you're holding
up over 11,000 containers

to search two.

Well, we appreciate
your cooperation.

Alright, fellas,
let's crack a few.

I want it on record,
both these containers

had high-security bolt seals

that were intact
when you seized them.

Already noted.

What do you know about
Enteron Electronics?

Nothing. I see their
name on my manifests.

We have reason to
believe the company's

not transporting
electronic components.

Looks like this is
from Bordeaux. Wow.

Huh.

Got a Grand Crus here.

I'm no expert, but even
I've seen the headlines

on the tariffs being imposed
on imported French wines.

Those are pretty
expensive taxes.

A shipment this size?

By going under the radar,

you're probably saving
a few hundred grand.

So you had no indication

that you were
transporting contraband?

Absolutely not. I'm a captain.

I just sail my ship from
one place to another.

The containers come pre-packed.

It's not my job to
verify what's inside.

Well, we have your information.

If we need anything,
we'll be in touch.

I've done hundreds of runs
with Enteron containers.

They sent me a Christmas
card, for God's sake!

We need to find out
who runs Enteron.

Come in.

The FBI just seized
the Enteron containers

- at the Port of Baltimore.
- What?

Enteron has operated
without interference

from law enforcement for years.

What changed?

Okay. The boss isn't
gonna like this.

Keep an eye on the FBI.

I want to make sure
there's no ripple effect.

How much can we afford to lose?

Well, if it gets bad enough,
you'll have much bigger things

to worry about than the losses.

Sir, we know Enteron's been
distributing contraband

across the country.

The entire extent
of what and how much

is still under question.

We interviewed the
captains of the other ships

carrying Enteron
containers. Same story.

Nobody knew that they were
smuggling illegal goods.

So we have the shipments
but no company executives.

Um, we may not have executives,
but I did find an accountant.

It's the guy that did
Enteron's taxes last year.

Agent Malik, go talk
to this accountant.

I'll contact the
Tampa field office

and have them send a team
to Enteron's main warehouse.

Not real? That's absurd!

I can assure you this
company is very real

and extremely profitable.

I've been doing Enteron's
taxes for years.

What you've been
doing, Mr. Conklin,

is aiding and abetting
a criminal enterprise.

Now, if you knew or reasonably
should have known...

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Stop right there.

My clients submit
their financials.

I provide my expertise based
on the numbers they supply.

What about the contact
info I gave you?

We raided Enteron's
headquarters in Tampa.

There were no employees on site.

Just some dusty office
equipment and a few desks.

I know nothing about that.

Well, Mr. Conklin,
the only people

who could have corroborated
your story don't seem to exist.

But you exist.

You're right here
in front of me.

And I'm telling you the truth.

Enteron is a very
respectable company

with an impeccable reputation.

It's no scam.

Hell, I just had a working
dinner with Roger Barrett,

the Vice President of
East Coast operations.

- Where?
- Jaspiner in Manhattan.

Yeah. Yeah, understood.

Everything okay, sir?

Send everybody home for
the rest of the day.

Boss wasn't happy
about the seizure.

So much so, he, uh...

He wants to come into
town, talk with me alone.

Is it that bad?

Yeah. He's not
one to disappoint.

- Let me help, sir.
- No.

You can't help, Westbrook.

You can't help.

He's coming into town
for a leadership change.

And I-I really don't
know what that means.

Jaspiner?

I have been trying to get a
reservation there forever.

Did you go in the
kitchen? How did it look?

- How did it smell?
- Herbie.

Conklin's "working
dinner" was too long ago

for there to be any
surveillance footage.

But the restaurant's
general manager was able

to access the transaction
records for the night.

The executive, Roger Barrett,

used a corporate credit
card, but not from Enteron.

It was from a place called
Northmyer, Incorporated.

Is this Northmyer even real?

I don't know, but the card has
a billing address here in DC.

You and Agent Ressler get there.

I'll secure another warrant.

Did you try anything
while you were there?

Oh, my God. You
did, didn't you?

Just one delicious
fish dumpling.

Must be nice to be
in the field.

I checked the
perimeter. We're clear.

No apparent threats.

Tell me what happened
last night, Raymond.

Oh, let's not ruin a perfectly
nice time with all that.

You told Harold an intruder
was at the bathhouse.

Yes, and I handled it.

Who? Why were they here?

You're not gonna let
this go, are you?

Fine. I'll give
you three guesses.

If you don't get it
right, we move on.

Deal?

Deal. Monaco?

- No.
- Enzo?

No. That's two.

Not Monaco?

The chef at Gage & Truffaut?

Oh, come on.

There's no way she could
still be mad at me.

It was ages ago.

I barely remember what I did.

You remember.

In any case, no. Not the chef.

- You're out of guesses.
- No, I'm done guessing.

If you're not gonna tell me
what happened last night,

- then I'm leaving.
- Okay, okay, okay, okay.

On one condition.

What?

You beat me in a
game of Bananagrams.

FBI! Hands
where we can see them!

- Federal agents!
- No way in or out.

Clear!

This is Northmyer?

A warehouse with no
public access points

and no loading dock?

What is this place?

Where is everyone? Why
are you the only one here?

This place is a gold mine.

From what I can tell,

the building was being
used as a data center

for creating fake
American companies.

Paperwork on the desk suggests
that they were applying

for legitimate
permits and licenses.

Well, that's what
Morgana Logistics does.

This must be one of
their facilities.

Yeah, okay.

Look at this. Look.

All of these are companies.

It's going to take us
forever to figure out

which ones are real
and which aren't.

When we were debriefed
about Morgana,

I was thinking maybe a few
hundred fake companies.

But we are talking thousands.
Maybe even tens of thousands.

Look. Look.

Birth certificates,
vehicle registrations,

plane registrations, travel
histories, expense reports.

All real. Everything you
need to make a company.

Just add water.

Morgana Logistics may be

the biggest criminal
enterprise I've ever seen.

There's shipping routes
all throughout the country.

Thank you.

You got a name?

The Fifth Amendment.

That's an interesting name.

Yeah, my mother thought it
would make me stand out.

Well, whoever you are,
we ran your prints,

and you have no criminal record.

But you were carrying a license
in the name of Gerome Kavanaugh,

with an address in Bethesda.

Looks like there's no
such person or address.

No tax returns, no
Social Security numbers,

no birth certificate that
we were able to find.

No, you're a phantom, just like
those companies you create.

Jesus. I'm sorry to make
your life so difficult.

Oh, my life is fine.

You're the one who's in
for a difficult time.

Yeah? You think?

I don't care what your name is.

US Attorney's gonna
write you up as John Doe,

and then they're gonna
charge you with thousands

of counts of enterprise fraud.

Yeah, I'm thinking
RICO violations.

You don't need a
name to go to prison.

Alright. Am I softened
up enough for the pitch?

Is that it?

Right? You're a fed.

That means you live
for the trade up.

You catch a fish, and instead
of eating what you got,

you try to trade it up
for some larger size.

In this case, I
guess, it's what?

My employer?

I wouldn't worry
about what I want.

- What do you want?
- What do I want?

Well, I-I don't want to spend
the rest of my life in prison.

Then again, I want there
to be a rest of my life.

And what? If you cross
your boss, he'll kill you?

Look, he's coming for
you no matter what.

With everything that you know?

You need whatever
deal you can get.

Wow. Look at you. You
feds can't help it.

It's part of your DNA, right?

Speaking of DNA, uh,

you may be able to get
a sample off of that.

That's why you left
it there, right?

Okay. I think we're done.

I don't need anything further.

I don't want to
talk to an attorney.

So just send me out
to central booking.

We'll get this show on
the road. How's that?

That didn't go well.

Yeah, I don't care
how calm he is.

That man's afraid of someone.

That's who we need to find.

- Where does that leave us?
- He refuses to talk,

and we have no way to know
who he is unless he tells us,

and he knows it.

That man is a ghost.

What are the chances we'll
get a hit on that cup?

Based on how cool he played it?

About the same as me playing
first base for the Yankees.

Ah!

Three to 0.

- Best of seven?
- Mmm-hmm.

Start talking.

I was half-asleep
when I heard someone coming in.

So I went to investigate.

You were alone?

Yes, but I felt perfectly
capable of defending myself.

From?

It was Weecha.

Weecha?

You told Harold it
was an intruder.

And she was.

Raymond.

Clearly you led us to believe

it was someone with
bad intentions.

I don't know what Weecha's
intentions are, Dembe.

The woman's hard to read.

She wouldn't hurt me,
but she might hurt me.

It's unclear.

Oh. That's Andrea.

Have you met Andrea
Athens? Lovely woman.

She was the one who helped
me find a suitable space

for the duplicate Post Office.

- I don't think we've met.
- Ah. Well.

Jack-of-all-trades. Jack?

If it's a woman, does that
make her a Jill-of-all-trades?

Eh. Logistics of all types,

- not just real estate.
- Whoa, Raymond.

- I got it.
- Okay.

- Andrea!
- How are you?

- This is Dembe.
- A pleasure, Dembe.

- Hello.
- I'm wonderful, thank you, Mr. Reddington.

Andrea, I can't tell you

how marvelous that
last place turned out.

Thank you so much.

It's always nice when
your work is appreciated.

Please, tell me, how can I help?

I'd like to throw a party.

Well, not just a
party, a celebration.

A party?

What are you celebrating?

Beginnings and endings.

The coming of spring.

Not a lot of food.

Lots and lots of
drinks and passables.

And maybe a little
window dressing.

How many guests are we talking?

Somewhere between 25 and 30.

Wonderful. Anything I
need to know about them?

Only that they're
an important group.

To me.

Oh. Excuse me.

Harold. I was wondering
when you'd call.

How did it go with Enteron

and the electronics
that weren't?

We're way past Enteron.

You were right. The
company was a front.

We followed the trail to
a warehouse here in DC.

One we believe belongs to the
Morgana Logistics Corporation.

- That sounds like terrific progress.
- You're half right.

We seized a mountain of
evidence, a mountain range.

Proof that thousands of American
companies that appear legitimate

are actually fronts
for shipping fraud.

So what's the problem?

The problem is,

is that we have only one
arrest to show for it.

The place was empty
except for one man.

Well, if he's
high-ranking enough,

sometimes one is all you need.

I don't know how he ranks.

In fact, we don't know anything
about him, including his name.

- He won't talk to us.
- I see. That is unusual.

Tell you what. Send
me what you have.

Photo, prints, DNA, whatever.

Think you can find
out who he is?

Most criminals using aliases
leave some traces somewhere.

You just have to
know where to look.

Perhaps I can dig up something.

Sorry about that,

but I'm back, and I'm starving.

Dembe, maybe after
I make a few calls,

we should go grab some of
those falafel sandwiches

at that Lebanese
place we used to love.

Andrea, will you join?
The more the merrier.

No, thank you. I've
got a party to plan.

Man, you work fast.

Well, it's easy to work fast
when you don't find anything.

Look, the task force
that Harold Cooper runs

is not only a mystery to
those outside of the agency,

but to those within it, as well.

Every agent I spoke to
has no working knowledge

of the task force
or its operations.

I mean, I've worked black
ops that were less opaque.

Jordan, you wouldn't be
here if that's all you had.

Cooper's overseen maybe
200 criminal cases

over the last 10 years.

I mean, that kind of output?

Makes me wonder where
his intel's coming from.

Those cases are
originating from somewhere.

- Or someone.
- You have a theory?

No, but I may have a lead.

I don't have access to
the classified archives,

but I can see the file
numbers and the contact info

of the senior agents
connected to those cases.

And how does that help me?

One got my attention.

I don't know anything about it,

except it wasn't a
criminal investigation.

It was some kind of
other proceeding.

But Cooper was involved.

So were three other assistant
directors at the Bureau.

Four assistant
directors on one file?

Mmm-hmm. Must have
been important.

What are the chances
I can get someone

- who was there to tell me about it?
- Well, be careful out there.

You do not want to
finesse a Bureau official

into divulging classified data.

No lying. You have my word.

I won't say anything I wouldn't
say on the record, under oath.

I just need something,

any thread that sheds some
light on what Cooper's up to.

Raymond. You found something?

You should take Massachusetts
Avenue to North Capitol.

Constitution's faster.

You just started
driving yourself around.

How do you know
which way is faster?

- Reddington?
- Yeah. Yes, Harold. Sorry.

I had some information
forwarded your way.

So, according to my
sources in Paris,

the man in your custody
is Henri Guillaume

with an address in the Marais.

- You found his name.
- I found a name,

along with the name
Johannes Baard,

a lifelong citizen
of South Africa.

And Peter Roe, a British expat.

Maxwell Voll, a German
national from Dusseldorf.

I mean, there are others,
but you get the point.

Incredible. He's
a dozen people,

and yet we still have
no idea who he is.

Well, it's not unprecedented.
There are 195 countries.

I myself could produce a
legal passport for many,

if not most, if necessary.

So, we're no closer to
identifying our mystery man.

On the contrary. I think that's
exactly what you are. Closer.

I'd imagine the governments
who issued those passports

could shed more
light on the man,

including comings and goings.

We appreciate the assist.

While we have you, any progress

putting more permanent
security in place?

Do you still need Dembe?

Just for a little while longer.

See? No traffic.

Congressman Hudson.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

Mr. Shaeffer.

- What's that?
- A little surprise.

Do you like
surprises? I don't.

As a general rule, I like
to know what I'm in for.

This one I certainly
never saw coming.

A classified proceeding,

attended by no fewer than four
assistant directors of the FBI.

I look forward to this
pastrami sandwich all week.

- You're ruining it.
- Fine.

Maybe I should take
this to Harold Cooper.

- What is it?
- It's not a transcript.

I'm launching an investigation.

Into a classified
hearing? Good luck.

You've known
me a long time, Shaeffer.

Would you describe me as
a guy who depends on luck?

What do you want, Arthur?

I'm here to give, not to take.

I'm offering my assistance.

If people start asking
questions about that hearing,

you're gonna need a few
well-placed friends.

You're on the edge.

If this is a transcript,
a leaked transcript

of a classified Bureau hearing,

you're the one who's
gonna need help, not me.

Well, I can see
I've made a mistake.

I'm not asking you
to tell me anything.

I just want you to know
what I'm working on,

give you a chance to
get your ducks in line

- before hunting season begins.
- I appreciate the warning.

So I'll return the favor.

If you so much as whisper Zuma
on the Congressional record,

the first call you'll
get won't be from me.

It'll be from the
Attorney General.

Hmm.

Good to see you, Mike.

Arthur. Aren't you
forgetting something?

Keep it.

You got a second?

Of course. Come in.

We've been reaching out
to the federal authorities

in the countries that issued
passports to our suspect.

- Any luck?
- Nothing.

Looks like he doesn't have a
criminal record in any of them.

And all the addresses are
either fake or unoccupied.

But I started thinking about
something Reddington said.

Maybe we can't
penetrate the aliases,

but that doesn't mean
they can't be useful.

We don't know who he is, but
we do know where he went.

- The comings and goings.
- Exactly.

Every time he traveled
internationally,

a record was stamped
on those passports.

And when you look
at them together,

they have one
location in common.

All of his aliases have been
to Paris in the past 14 months.

Maybe that's his home base.

Reach out to the French again.

Let's make Paris
our primary focus.

Okay, we know our suspect
flew to Paris repeatedly.

So where did he
go when he landed?

The French police contacted
the rental car companies

that service Charles de Gaulle.

Turns out, every alias used by
our mystery man rented a car,

each one from a
different company.

We cross-referenced the
GPS data from all of them.

And you've got a hit?

Look at the overlap.

At some point, every car

was driven to this one location,

a building owned by a company
called LT&Z Unlimited.

I'm not sure what the space is.

Maybe some kind of
liquor warehouse?

Those are armed guards
patrolling the perimeter.

Their prosecutors are requesting
a search warrant as we speak.

Ressler, Malik, I want you to
be there when the raid happens.

We may finally be
getting somewhere.

Two units.

One flanks from the right,
and we hit from the left.

We'll be inside before
they know we are here.

It's still warm.

Where did they go? How
did they know to leave?

Someone warned them?

Well, they didn't have time
to take or destroy anything.

Look at this.

These are just like
Kavanaugh's office.

Oh, my God.

Look at how huge it is.

The raid outside
Paris was bigger

than anything we
could have imagined.

In fact, this may be the biggest
case you've ever given us, Red.

There's a network of
thousands of corporations

with legitimate documentation,

employees operating with
government-issued IDs

and using legitimately
purchased equipment

to move illicit goods
around the world.

And this warehouse in
Paris seems to be the hub,

the headquarters where fake
companies are developed,

managed, and tracked by
the larger organization.

Was there anything else?

We didn't get any
arrests to speak of,

but the digital maps we
found revealed the locations

for dozens of satellite
regional outposts.

Those outposts develop the intel

being fed to the
Paris headquarters.

With this information,
we'll be able to shut down

the biggest criminal shipping
operation in the world.

And we did it without any
cooperation from our suspect.

Ah, yes, your mystery man.

Whatever happened to him?

He got his wish. He was taken to
central booking and arraigned.

Given the flight risk, the judge
set an obscene amount of bail.

He'll be in jail
until his trial.

Well, thanks for the update.
And congratulations, Harold.

Here we are, Dembe. Home
in time for mocktails.

That was quite the day.

Just like old times.

Why did you really
want me to tag along?

Well, Harold was
worried about me.

It seemed like a
good opportunity

to make him feel better

and for you and I to
spend a little time.

I miss you too, Raymond.

Helen Swinton, please.

Counselor!

I need your services.

Yes, you have a new client.

He was just arraigned
in federal court.

I want him out. Today.

Oh, and, by the way, I
hear we're going to need

an obscene amount
of money for bail.

We just hit Morgana's
regional hub in Hong Kong.

Locals say it was
completely shut down.

Morocco and Greece are the same.

They've apprehended
a few suspects,

but they appear to be
low-level employees.

They can't shed any
light on Morgana itself.

Main Justice is gonna
have to give us our due

for taking down an
operation of this size.

I agree, even without convictions to show for it.

Harold Cooper.

What? When?

Apparently, our
suspect made bail.

Geez, that was quick.
What did it cost him?

His attorney just posted
$3 million in cash.

He's out.

Mr. Kavanaugh.

Please get in.

I said get in.

Are you gonna kill me?

Wow. What's all this?

This is the Morgana
Logistics Corporation.

At least, the key principals

from the regional
outposts around the world.

I had them flown in.

Why?

Why don't you grab
yourself a drink, Charlie?

Yeah, yeah. Sure.

Everyone?

Thank you for coming.

I know you weren't
given a choice,

but still, I'm glad you're here.

First, some difficult news.

As we speak, the FBI

and a legion of international
law enforcement agencies

are shutting down

all of Morgana's
operational facilities.

It's hard to imagine. I know.

But don't worry. All
your employees are safe.

Fortunately, I knew of the raids
in advance and made provisions.

For them and for all of you.

What can I say to
you about Morgana?

Of all the enterprises
I've designed

and maintained as part
of my organization,

it stands as one of the
crowning achievements.

If you'll forgive a
moment of braggadocio,

I must say it's a logistical
marvel to rival the pyramids.

A wonder of the world, but
one designed to be hidden,

wondrous precisely because it
exists unseen in plain sight.

The most complex
and sophisticated

shipping network in history.

Every year, moving
goods of more value

than the GDP of some
first-world countries.

A monumental effort,

accomplished, as the
greatest things are,

with singular vision
and collective action.

We did that. All of us.

It's hard to believe it's over.

All these years.

This was more than
an enterprise,

it was our lives, and
we lived them together.

I'm so proud...

That word doesn't
really suffice...

I'm honored to have
stood beside you all

as we discovered this
creation of ours together.

And together, we made a fortune.

A fortune that I have grown

and will now be sharing
with you, my partners.

Our work together may be done,

but none of you will
ever have to work again.

John Singer Sargent once painted
a portrait of Henry James

that was immediately
deemed a masterpiece.

But in 1914, at
the Royal Academy,

a political activist
took a meat cleaver

to the face of the painting.

And when a reporter asked James

how he felt about the vandalism,

he said, "I naturally feel
very scalped and disfigured,

but you will be glad to know

that I seem to be
pronounced curable."

And that's where we are now.

Our masterpiece has been
scalped and disfigured.

But all of us will live.

And all of us will
share in the cure.

So, let's celebrate.

Please, enjoy the food.

Enjoy the drinks.

Mmm.

And enjoy the entertainment.

Zuma?

One word. One word
and it was enough

to break this whole
thing wide open.

And I got Shaeffer to say it

without making a single
misrepresentation.

What does it mean?

Mmm.

Not what. Who.

Apparently, the FBI brought on
a new agent a few years ago.

An agent named Dembe Zuma.

What does Zuma have to do
with the classified hearing?

I don't know, and I don't have
the clearance to find out.

But I don't need clearance
to make an educated guess.

Nixon got a copy of
Zuma's official FBI photo.

We ran an image search,

with the help of a source he
uses for that kind of thing.

You ever seen that photo?

- Never.
- Mmm.

A photojournalist snapped
it almost six years ago.

Ran on a Wednesday
in a local rag.

The man in the back of the car.

The paper said it was
Raymond Reddington.

Is it?

I think so.

Now look past him

to the man standing by the car.

Is that Zuma?

An associate of
Raymond Reddington

becomes a Special
Agent for the FBI.

That sounds like something

that might require a
classified hearing.

The kind attended by four
assistant directors of the FBI.

Boom.

The minute I saw the
name Raymond Reddington,

everything started to
fall right into place.

Harold Cooper
adopted the daughter

of another former FBI
agent, Elizabeth Keen.

Keen. Why do I know that name?

Because she went on the run with
Reddington about 10 years ago.

It was national news.

And then Donald Ressler.

Blair Foster told me about him.

He's connected to Cooper
and his task force.

For years, in the early 2000s,
Ressler was the Special Agent

in charge of the
hunt for Reddington.

All roads lead to Reddington.

Yeah. He's the key. They're
all connected to him.

All these years, we've never
been able to catch him.

This is why.

Raymond Reddington

has corrupted a task
force within the FBI.

And I'm gonna tear it
apart at the joints.