All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 10x21 - Raymond Reddington (No. 00) Pt. 1.ELEANOR.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Dembe Zuma?

It's for you.

Hello?

Dembe, that was incredibly reckless
calling to warn me off.

How did you know I was at the mosque?

What were you thinking?

I was thinking about death,

possibly yours
or some hapless FBI agent.

I see. Well,
it was foolhardy, short-sighted.

And it worked.

But at what cost?

You've done something
in the last few years

I never thought possible.

You wiped your slate clean.

You joined the FBI of all things.

Don't go throwing away
your future on my account.

Nobody knows I made the call.

Good. That Congressman
is looking for any excuse,

especially when it comes to you.

So don't do me any more favors.

I won't.

I'm going to bring you in, Raymond.

That's the spirit.

I'm serious.

I hope so. For your sake.

Be safe, Dembe.

You, too.

Chuck, slight change of plans.

How quickly can you get ahold
of our friend Bertha?

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Come on, people. Debrief in 20.

I want to hear some good news.

Mr. Cooper, perhaps you can
explain something to me.

Reddington blew up his own jet
to get away from us.

Then he turns around,
comes all the way back to the city

just so you two can have
a cozy chat in your kitchen?

How does that make any sense?

It doesn't,
but his behavior rarely does.

Not from the outside, anyway.

Well, I guess we should be grateful,
for his lapse in judgement.

Barricades went up as soon
as you reported the incident.

This entire area has been
shut down and sealed off.

He was last seen driving this,
a 2018 Nissan Leaf.

He disabled the GPS,
but we got the plate number,

so our first order of business
is to find that car.

I'm sorry,
but our first order of business

should be to throw out the playbook.

You may want to think of Raymond
as an ordinary criminal.

That would be a mistake.

I realize you all
spent years with the man,

and you feel like you know him better...

It's been over a decade,
and I still don't know him.

But there are a few things
we should probably explain.

His personal assets are in the billions,

the scope of his influence,
basically unlimited.

And those are just
his external resources.

It's his mind you should
be worried about.

No matter where he is,
the time of day, weather conditions.

He has escape routes
within escape routes.

Okay, keys and money
are in the envelope.

The car's outside.
Oh, and take this card.

If you get arrested, call the number,

somebody'll bail you out.

Have a nice drive.

Keys and money are in the envelope.

Your car's outside. Take this card.

If you get arrested, call the number,

somebody'll bail you out.

Have you ever heard the expression

"He sleeps with one eye open"?

I've actually seen him do that.

I think what we're trying to say is,

he's a real tricky customer.

The way you all build him up,

it almost sounds like you admire him.

Oh, it's not admiration, it's a warning.

I don't care if he's Lex Luthor.

Reddington's not getting outside...

MPD just flagged his plate!

Heading east over Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

Damn, he got past the police barricade?

Let's get choppers in the air.

We need to shut all traffic heading...

Sir, Virginia State troopers
just pulled over

a Nissan Leaf moving west on I-66.

- The plate's a match.
- How the hell is he...

I don't understand.

Aviation Command says
that they're circling him

on the Anacostia Freeway,
same plate, same car.

I'm not gonna find him
in any of these cars, am I?

I'm afraid not.

Within hours he's somehow
floods DC with identical cars,

so we spend the day chasing
our tails like a bunch of idiots?

Confusion, misdirection,

this is how he operates.

It's kept him safe
for over 30 years on the run.

But you do have one advantage
in this case.

What's that?

Us.

I've gotta make a call,

I'll be back.

Agent Ressler, I wanted to find a moment
to offer my condolences.

Jon Pritchard was a good man...

You know what? Don't, just don't.

Okay, I just...
I hope you don't blame yourself...

Enough!

That's enough now.

Take him up to my office.

You all right?

Fine. Fine. I shouldn't've...

- Arthur...
- His friend died. Let it go.

Mr. Cooper.

Don't forget why you're here.

We all want the same thing.

All right, people, let's focus up!

The name of the game
is Raymond Reddington.

He's inside that perimeter,

and if he's crawled into some rat hole,

I wanna know where!

Last Sunday at Perkins,

I put a couple of these
hazelnut creamers in my purse.

Paula, did you happen to read
the paper this morning?

Nope. Too much gloom and doom.

Save me the obits, though.

It's a great way to find eligible men.

One woman's widower
is another woman's gain,

I suppose.

I want to hear your best
funeral pick-up line,

but first, Paula,

there's something important
we need to discuss.

Take a breath.

I'm fine.

Clearly you're not fine.

That's understandable.
But you can't be punching Congressmen.

Especially that one.

Just checking to see if you're okay.

It suddenly feels crowded in here.

You realize the investigation
is happening down there?

Yeah, I can't with them.

At the risk of sounding
unprofessional, same.

I realize I haven't known Reddington
as long as you have,

but it still feels weird

teaming up with strangers
to hunt him down.

I don't want to lose my dental,
so don't tell the windbreakers,

but part of me is rooting for Red.

Maybe part of me is, too.

But personal feelings aside,

the five of us have a decision
to make right here, right now.

This team has always had one mission,

to bring criminals to justice.

When Reddington was with us,
he understood that.

But he's chosen to walk away.

And now those men down there

have asked us to deliver him up.

We could make their jobs harder
if we want to.

But what would that say about us?

They want us to find Reddington
to save our own skins.

But I want us to find him
because that's who we are.

Now, if you don't agree,

if you can't commit
to using everything you have

to bring Reddington
in to face justice head on,

then you should step aside.

Okay then.

Now we just have to figure out
where the hell he is.

One thing's for sure,

he's gonna get outta DC
as soon as possible.

Andrea? It's Raymond.

I'm curious,

what homes do you have
right now on the market?

Something small, modest,

east of Capitol Street,
south of the Mall.

I do have one a little further west
in Adams Morgan.

Updated kitchen,

nice hardwood floors...

No, no, no. That won't do, I'm afraid.

My needs are quite specific.

Okay.

I have something on Westover Drive,

bit of a fixer-upper.

Actually, never mind.

Too much fixer, not enough upper.

Is it owner-occupied?

No, it's vacant.

Hmm. Sounds perfect.

It's a total gut.

I don't even think
it has a functioning toilet.

Not to worry, Andrea.

We'll be taking it right down
to the foundation.

You understand what I'm saying?

- The foundation? Right.
- Excellent.

How soon can you pull down the sign?

We've identified 17 different locations

where Reddington might have gone
to ground inside the containment zone.

Businesses connected
through Morgana Logistics,

underworld hideouts he frequented,

and addresses of his known associates.

Agent Zuma, you've been awfully quiet.

Don't you have some ideas
from your history?

What exactly are you implying,
Congressman?

Over the years, there have been
a lot of keys and doors.

I could draw you a map,
but I'm quite sure Raymond

has changed his protocol since I've...

We've tried to explain to you
that Raymond...

Please, no more speeches
about his brilliant mind.

We need to get rolling.

Everyone, listen up.

We've got a list of 17 locations.

Reddington could be hiding out
in any one of them.

I need you to break into teams
and work down the list.

You're gonna be searching
private homes and businesses.

There may be civilians on site,

they may be hostile to your efforts.

So I expect you to exercise caution,

but I want all these places cleared
by end of day.

You've got a hunch, don't you?

And it's not on that list, is it?

So why don't you...

Because if I'm wrong,

I would hate to cause this person
any unnecessary distress.

If Reddington's holed up with them,

they must be a formidable ally?

Not really.

But Raymond really
loves her Scotcheroos.

Her what?

Everyone's clear on the timeline?

It's an awfully short window.

Our girl's built for speed.

I don't think it'll be a problem.

How's she look?

Gorgeous as the day we bought her.

All righty.

Forgive me, Paula.

I came to visit you,

and here I am
chatting away on the phone.

I assume you have a good reason.

My Jellybean used to keep lines
of people waiting at the DMV

just to take the girls out for a tinkle.

He loved those poodles.

I'm glad you brought that up.

I've been pondering Glen.

I've been trying to think of a fitting

and more permanent way
to honor his memory.

A trust or a foundation,

a charitable something,
something in his name.

But what would make sense for Glen?

I thought of the people
he's touched in his life,

his colleagues at the DMV,
his fellow bowlers.

We should probably skip over

what Glen loved to touch the most.

But the point is,
what kind of a man was he?

What did he care about?

What worthwhile causes did he champion?

Huh.

Nothing really comes to mind.

Nothing respectable, anyway.

It has been an uphill battle.

As you know, he had a few
passionate interests,

most of them quite unmentionable,

in polite company at least.

He gave little to charity,

found most people
basically insufferable,

and vice versa.

I thought, perhaps, his alma mater,

but how do you honor his legacy
of catcalling coeds

and dropping out his third semester?

I don't know. Maybe I'll just
endow a Chair at Harvard,

the School of Public Health
or something.

Not what Glen would've chosen,
but who knows?

Perhaps if he'd exhausted

all other uses for his time and money,

he might've done
something good for humanity.

You never know.

And Paula, I'd like
to make you a part of it.

How about Honorary Member
of the selection committee?

I love any excuse to throw a party!

You think those Harvard snobs

could handle a nice big bowl
of cheeseburger chowder?

Raymond,

you are so sweet to visit me,

but you better shake a leg.

It's not safe for you to be
in one place for too long.

So you have been reading the paper.

Well, you just looked
so cute in that picture,

I wanted to cut it out
and put it in my scrapbook.

My dear, it's been a pleasure.

The greatest pleasure.

Paula.

Dembe?

Oh, is this a new gal pal of yours?

She's a cutie pie.

We need to find Raymond, Paula.

Oh...

I'll check upstairs.

Well, here, take a load off.

I'd offer you some Scotcheroos,

but someone ate the last one.

I'm guessing that someone
was Mr. Reddington?

We want to keep you
out of trouble, Paula,

but you need to talk to us.

Okay, fine.

He came knockin' on my door,
and I took him straight to bed.

Oh, take your minds
out of the gutter, you two.

He didn't get any sleep last night,

so I let him catch a few winks
in Jelly's old room.

Now, what's wrong with that?

Nothing, apart from aiding
and abetting a fugitive.

He told me what to do about that.

He said that if some pushy FBI agents

were to come around here,

I should tell them everything.

- Everything?
- That's what he said.

Every little detail,

so you can't charge me with anything.

The first thing I noticed,

something was clearly
weighing on his mind.

And, uh, and then,
he wouldn't get off the phone.

Who was he calling?

I don't know.

If you expect to get out of
this by trading information,

you actually have to give us
some information.

Well, if you're gonna beat it outta me.

It... It was a woman.

I'm not the jealous type,
so I didn't eavesdrop, um,

but her name was...

Andrea something or other.

I'm just about to get the key
out of the lock box.

Then we're right on schedule.

No way! You're a contractor.

Um, we may have a slight problem.

It needs a little work,
but the bones are good.

Now lemme show you that AC unit
you were asking about.

There's people here.
They're taking a tour.

Well, you just gotta get them to leave.

Andrea, come on, you've got this.

You go, girl.

Okay...

Her name is Andrea Athens.
Raymond introduced us.

She's the one who found him a space

to serve as a duplicate Post Office.

Wait, what duplicate...

It's a long story
with a super boring ending.

Based on a hunch,

we thought it might be wise
to track Andrea down.

But we couldn't get ahold of her.

She wouldn't answer her phone.

We tried calling her office,
but, apparently,

she dropped everything
to attend to a VIP client's emergency.

That sounds like Raymond.

Wait a minute.
What are you two getting at?

You think Reddington
hired this woman to, what?

Buy him a safe house?

That's unclear,
but before Andrea left the office,

she asked for her assistant
for the lockbox code

at 1120 Westover Drive.

That's outside the containment zone.

Does that mean Reddington
got through the barricades?

If he has, he may already be on site.

We're heading there now.

- Get SWAT on the line...
- Alert Metro PD...

Uh, we'll scramble units
to meet you at the house.

You love the house, right?

Who cares about the mold?

- What mold?
- Exactly! That's what I say.

- What mold.
- No, what mold?

You didn't tell us there was mold.

There's no mold in the disclosure.

And if they didn't disclose it,
then where's the mold?

- There is no mold!
- Is it the toxic kind...

It isn't any kind
because it doesn't exist.

I agree, mind over matter.

In this market,

you gotta be willing to overlook

some of the little things.

A little mold, who cares?

Is it that black mold?

Black, green, brown, whatever! Whatever!

Okay, we're outta here.

Mike, let's go.

Thanks a lot.

- I'm gonna remember this.
- Oh.

Buh-bye, now!

Happy hunting!

Donald told me
you were a menace behind the wheel.

Come on, Grandma,
we're trying to catch a fugitive.

Are you sure you're ready for this?

To get out of the car?

Definitely.

No, I mean...

Well, I know we all agreed
to take Reddington down,

but now that it actually might happen,

are you gonna feel okay
putting him in cuffs?

I'm not really sure.

I guess we'll have to find out
when it happens.

What's your ETA?

Uh, we're just down the street.

Backup's five minutes out.
Hold your position.

You are a menace.

Uh, look...

If Reddington's inside,

we don't move until
we have the house surrounded.

We're pretty sure he's not in the house.

How do you know that?

Because it's on fire, sir.

I don't get it.
Why would he go to all the trouble

of securing a safe house
just to burn it down?

Clear the way!
We've got a house going up in smoke!

All right, let 'em through!
Let 'em through!

What are we missing here?

Well, I dunno, I mean,
maybe this is the wrong house?

It could just be a bizarre coincidence.

No, wait, listen.

Raymond's using the fire.
That's how he's getting out.

You need to alert all checkpoints.

Stop any fire truck
from getting through the barricade.

Reddington's likely headed
south, southeast.

Know what he's driving.

Agent Nixon, would you care to...

Notify ground units, contact MPD.

Agent Ressler, coordinate with Tactical.

I want eyes in the sky.

Let's find that truck!

Clean it and leave it.
We're gone in five.

Catch you on the flip side, Chuck.

It's time for an update.

Where are we?

Uh, same place that we were
nine hours ago.

We shifted the containment zone south.

The units are going door-to-door.

Still no sign of Raymond or the truck.

Or Andrea Athens.

She's in the wind.

I don't even care about
divided loyalties anymore,

I just wanna find him
so I can take a nap

and oh, God, a shower.

You gotta admit, though,

that stunt with the firetruck
was pretty metal.

Oh, please, we're all thinking it.

Here's what I've been thinking.

I spent my rookie years chasing him,

my next decade working alongside of him,

only now putting him away's
gonna end my career.

What do you mean "end"?
Y-You're not retiring.

No, but... I mean, come on.

Even if we catch Reddington,

you really think Hudson's
letting any of us walk away from this?

We got it! We got the truck.

Where's Agent Nixon?

Oh, he's on the phone updating...
someone.

Get him in here. He needs to hear this.

Firetruck was abandoned... here.

In a warehouse outside Capitol Heights.

Finally, something we can use.

Let's scramble a team.

Start canvassing for witnesses.

Pull every traffic cam
in a 20-block radius.

Knock, knock, knock.

- Good news.
- Come in. Shut the door.

We found the firetruck.

- Was Reddington...
- Nah, he cleared out.

But we're checking the cameras
in the area.

Should ID his getaway vehicle
any minute now.

Great, so that just puts us,

oh, right, nine hours behind.

That's nine hours for Reddington

to ditch whatever getaway car
you're talking about and go

pretty much anywhere in the country.
Or the world, for that matter.

Hey, look, I'm just here
to help you catch your guy.

If you don't like the way
I'm doing things...

It's not you. It's them.

What do think they're doing out there?

We should've taken Reddington
at that airfield two days ago.

But he disappears just as we arrived.

Then we lock down an entire district,

and he slips past us at the barricade.

How many times do we have
to fail before we admit

there's a reason
he's always one step ahead?

He's good at what he does.

He's been doing it for decades.

But this time it's different, right?

'Cause now we've got his team
helping us...

Unless it's not us they're helping.

They're the Reddington Task Force.

It's in their goddamn name.

If you're right,

we're gonna nail them to the wall.

Where's Nixon going?

Who knows?

Why don't we go ahead
and review what we've got?

Unfortunately, we couldn't recover

any of the security
footage of Reddington

or his crew exiting the warehouse.

Our field photographer took these.

What about this?

It's a red-light camera,
activates when you go through the light.

I guess there's some laws
that Reddington does obey.

But there are other CCTV cameras
in the surrounding neighborhood.

We're isolating every car that passed by

in the hours after the fire.

We're up to 30 vehicles and counting.

Reddington could be in any one of them.

I'll talk to Agent Nixon,

see if he can get some help
running facial recognition and tracking.

After ten hours, we're gonna have to
comb through a lot of footage

to trace the trajectory of his car.

He breached the barricade here.

He abandoned his truck here.

He's heading east.

A lifetime ago at a party
on the Hicacos Peninsula,

Raymond exchanged some sweet nothings

with the wife of our host.

He was made to understand

that his life would be worth nothing,

or his death would be worth too much,

if he spent another night in Varadero.

So we stole our host's speedboat
and set out for Havana.

That's when he told me,

"In times of trouble
you go one of two ways,

up in the sky or out to sea."

Now we know he didn't go up,
not without his jet.

But what about out?

Congratulations.

You're not the only one
who's paranoid anymore.

It's not paranoia if it's real.

This real enough for you?

I pulled phone records for all
outgoing calls from this building,

the day we lost
Reddington on the tarmac.

Mmm-hmm?

Minutes after we learned
the location of the jet,

there was a ten-second call
to a burner phone

that pinged to a tower on highway 50,

right down the road from the airfield.

- Reddington's burner phone.
- You were right.

Someone did call to warn him.

Who was it?

Operating off of Dembe's theory,

we ran down any ships
with ties to Morgana.

We figured that Reddington
would want to push off

somewhere nearby with minimal security.

Bluefish Pier is closest,
but it's popular with tourists

which means a lot of eyeballs
with nothing better to do

than call the FBI tip line.

Can't ya just see
Red photobombing a selfie?

It's like, "Did you catch
a fish on vacation?"

"No, no. I caught a fugitive."

Anyway, the second one,
Finley's Landing,

it's just a bunch of rich boys
and their toys,

yachts, sailboats, that kind of thing.

Wait... Tillman's Wharf.

What?

Raymond used to have an interest

in some commercial
fishing boats docked there.

He shielded most of his investments

behind various shell companies,

but he enjoyed the perks of
supplying the freshest seafood

to restaurants and markets
around the city.

You're thinking that fleet
had a secondary purpose?

Why risk a traffic stop on land
when you can jump on a boat

and be in open water within a few hours?

It's a good hunch.

Let's gear up and head down...

Everyone, stop what you're doing.

That's him.

What is this? What are you doing?

Take him to interrogation.

Now you're questioning your own people?

What kind of an outfit are you running?

I wouldn't worry about it. Mr Cooper.

As you said, Agent Ishwood
doesn't report to you.

Whatever he's being questioned about,

it should be conducted
by either you or me.

And right now, we don't have
the time to waste.

Agent Zuma has a credible lead.

We need to get to Tillman's Wharf now.

All right, Zuma, you come with me.

You can explain on the way.

The rest of you stay put.

And Mr. Cooper, if you'd like to sit in

on the conversation between
Agent Ishwood and Congressman Hudson,

please, feel free.

Your wife completed
a law degree two years ago?

Yes, sir.

You have a mortgage
and two kids in private school.

How'd you pay tuition?

We borrowed from her brother.

Marcus.

Marcus Kennedy.

Something wrong, Agent Ishwood?

No, sir. I just... I...

I'll tell you what's wrong,

the three of us wasting
time in this room

while the world's most wanted man
gets further away by the minute.

Agent Ishwood is a ten-year
veteran of the Bureau

with a sterling record.

So if you're building to a point,
Mr. Hudson,

I suggest you make it now.

Fourteen minutes before
our response teams arrived

at the airfield where
we tracked Reddington's jet,

a call was made from your phone
to a burner at the airfield.

So I'd say we're here
to figure out why Agent Ishwood

decided to betray his country.

That number corresponds
to the cell phone

taken from you earlier today,
does it not?

Yes, sir, but I didn't make that call.

I don't believe you.

Tell me about your first year
with the Bureau.

- Mr. Cooper, please...
- You don't have to believe him.

We have surveillance devices
all over this facility.

If Agent Ishwood did make that call,
we'll see it.

And you won't.

Sir.

Lead the way.

Special Agent Zuma, FBI.

This is Special Agent Nixon.

We need the location
of these five vessels.

I'm afraid it's urgent.

Okay. Let me check the logs.

That's Agent Ishwood
at the exact moment the call was made.

Doesn't appear to be on his phone to me.

So either he gave the phone to someone

or someone took it from him.

Do you mind?

First three on your list
set out last month.

And, uh, the Amy Jo's been in dry dock,
for the last two weeks.

What about The Great Shirley?

Yeah.

- Huh.
- What is it?

Great Shirley got in yesterday.

She was supposed to go to
dry dock for some engine work,

but looks like they
resupplied last night

and headed right back out.

Raymond left on a commercial
fishing boat late last night.

- Are you sure he was on it?
- Yes.

Call Coast Guard Base Portsmouth.

We need them to use every vessel

they have to track them on radar.

Oh, my God!

Put the phone down
and put your hands on your head.

- Now.
- Dembe?

I'm telling you, he's on that boat.

Herbie, try and get Dembe
back on the line.

Somebody get me the Commander
of the Coast Guard's fifth district.

Hold on a minute, Mr. Ressler.

We won't be taking
any more cues from Agent Zuma.

What? We need to find that boat.

No, we don't because Raymond Reddington
is nowhere near that vessel.

- I understand your hesitation...
- Hesitation?

...but if we have a lead,
we need to pursue it.

I don't know what this is,
but Agent Zuma just...

Dembe Zuma's under arrest.

On what charge?

Aiding and abetting a fugitive.

At 3:55 p.m. just before our raid

on Reddington's jet at the airfield,

a call was placed
from Agent Ishwood's phone

to a cell phone in the vicinity.

We believe that phone belonged
to Raymond Reddington.

Only Agent Ishwood
didn't make that call,

Zuma did.

Here is Agent Ishwood
at the time of the call.

And here is Agent Zuma

90 seconds after the call ended.

He was clever enough to avoid
taking the phone on camera...

But here he is putting it back.

Hope he washed his hands.

I'm telling you, he's on that boat.

If we don't get him now, we never will.

Nice truck.

Where's the boat?

We sunk it.

You smell like fish.

Crab, actually.

We'll roll down the windows.

He's definitely slipping something

into Ishwood's pocket,

but maybe it's not a phone. Maybe it's

a small, phone-shaped thing.

Herbie, just could you...

Sorry.

Look, I've grown quite fond
of Dembe, truly,

but should we really be that surprised?

I mean, he spent decades
with Reddington.

It couldn't have been easy to
sever that kind of connection.

No one was more suspect of Dembe
joining the FBI than me,

but he's proven himself
time and time again

to be a dedicated,
thorough, honest agent.

Who called his best friend to
keep him from a life in prison.

You sure you wouldn't have done the same
if the roles were reversed?

I'm not.

I wouldn't even be here
if it weren't for Red.

I love him.

I mean, not as much
as he loves Holly, my wife,

which I guess I've always been
strangely comfortable with.

But the point is, everything
about chasing him feels wrong,

and I haven't known him
half as long as Dembe.

What I can't figure out, though,

is that if Dembe did warn Reddington,

why take us to the real-estate agent?

Why lead us to the wharf?

He say anything on the way over?

- Not a word.
- All right.

Excuse me. I need to speak
with Agent Zuma.

Given the circumstances,
I don't think that'd be appropriate.

I appreciate the counsel,
but Agent Zuma reports to me.

If you have a problem with me
speaking with one of my people,

you can take it up
with the Attorney General.

Stand aside.

Traffic is slowed down on Route 264

with a tractor trailer
off on the shoulder.

In other news,
police have a suspect in custody

after a string of burglaries
targeting mobile homes

outside of Fairfield, and a...

At least I'm not on the news down here.

Mmm. The seaplane is fueled.

You'll need to leave as soon
as we arrive.

It'll be nice to get out of the country.

Where are you off to next?

A meeting outside Bogota.

Will I see you?

When it's safe.

With any luck,
we'll be back on the mountain

by the start of the rainy season.

We'll see.

Your people at the wharf.

Mary was questioned by the FBI.

What is it?

Dembe was taken away in handcuffs.

It's not your fault, Raymond.

You didn't ask him to interfere.

I know.

Coast Guard just called off the search.

The boat's vanished.

Then he's gone.

Maybe. But not because of you.

I want you to know, Dembe,
you're gonna have

my full support in disputing
these accusations.

Whatever that tape suggests...

I won't be fighting any charges.

I stole Agent Ishwood's phone,

and I warned Raymond about the raid.

Why, Dembe?

If Congressman Hudson and Agent Nixon

had cornered him on the airfield,

Raymond would have refused to surrender

and he and any number of agents
would have been killed.

You were trying to save lives.

And you spent the last 48 hours

trying to find Reddington
and bring him in safely.

If we explain that
to the Attorney General...

It won't matter.

Raymond is gone.

And someone on this Task Force
will be held accountable.

It should be me.

That's absurd.

Every member of this team
bears responsibility

for what we've done here.

If you think I'm gonna let you
take the hit...

We are not the same, Harold.

You operated in a legal gray area.

I spent over two decades
at the right hand

of the world's greatest criminal.

You're not that man anymore.

No, I'm not.

And I'm grateful for my time
on the Task Force, but...

Mr. Cooper,
please step away from the table.

- What's going on here?
- Put it on.

I did what you suggested.

The Attorney General agrees
that Agent Zuma should be

transferred to FBI headquarters
for further questioning.

I don't trust you.

I don't trust him.

And I certainly don't trust this place.

You won't be pulling rank
to speak to our suspect again.

Let's go.

Where do you think you're going,
Agent Ressler?

Oh, with you.

I intend to be present
for Agent Zuma's questioning.

If you don't like it, well,

you can slap some cuffs on me, as well.

No, no, I won't make the vote.

Tell the whip I'll explain when I can.

Believe me, this is more important.

You know, I almost
have to hand it to him.

Getting his man inside the FBI...

It's ballsy.

Whatever you may think, Congressman,

I didn't join the Task Force
for Raymond.

Whatever you say.

Dembe. I got you.

I got you. Okay. Keys.

- You okay?
- My leg's pinned.

All right. You stay here.

You all right?

We'll get you patched up.

But we've gotta keep moving.

Let's load up.

Raymond...

I'm not going with you.

They'll put you in a cell for years.

It's my choice.

Don't...

Don't move.

Congressman, please, lower your weapon.

It's not what you think.

Put the gun down, Chuck.

Everyone, calm down.

Put the gun down, Chuck!

Shooting a man is rather different

than convicting him
of a capital offense, Congressman.

Congressman Hudson, please.

Stay away from me.

No is going to hurt you.
Please, lower your weapon.

I don't trust you. You're his guy.

No, I'm not.

I don't trust any of you.

I'm on your side here.
I'm not going anywhere.

But I'm asking you, please,
lower your weapon.

Stay back! Stay back!

What the hell?

- Red...
- In the van.

In the van.