All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S10E17.WEB

Surprise.

You need a bodyguard.

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

Yeah, well,
good luck with that.

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.